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dollfacefantasy · 7 months

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Blue Jeans

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: request from @agent-dessis-posts - leon is looking extra fine in his jeans and when he gets out of the shower. you can't help if you stare... and maybe do a little more. i hope you enjoy!! (sorry i couldn't find a pic of him in jeans for the header)

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

word count: 2k

a/n: hello fantasizers! (that's what i'm calling you guys now cause i am delusional) back again! thank you all for encouraging my flip phone delusions on my last post. this post is a request. if you sent me a request, know that i am working on it as fast as i can. just be patient with me pretty please :) as always i'm giving you 1000 smooches for your reblogs or comments (they really make me smile and laugh so tysm) <3

Leon looked extra good today. You didn’t think he did anything different to his look this morning, but something about him was hitting you just right today. It was like you couldn’t help but stare at him since he had come home from work. You were trying to get some of your own work done on your laptop at the dining table, but he was unknowingly making that a challenge for you.

He was reclined on the couch, sprawled across it with his arms behind his head, half-paying attention to whatever was playing on the tv. His thick biceps emerged from his tight white t-shirt and framed his face. The thin fabric did little to hide the definition of his toned abdomen and chest.

Your eyes trailed down his body from your place across the room, settling on his jeans. The way he filled them out was driving you a special kind of crazy today. His muscular thighs wrapped tight in that blue denim. You feel like you can practically see the outline of his dick against the material. Soon, he starts to sit up and you avert your eyes back to your screen.

Leon walks over to the kitchen, seemingly unaware of your ogling. He has his back to you while he surveys the fridge for a snack. You try not to drool as you continue to gawk at him. The muscles of his back were all but visible through that white shirt. But even better than that, your favorite part, his ass. Looking like it was sculpted by an actual god, you had to stop yourself from openly salivating over your boyfriend standing just a few feet away from you.

He turns around, again snapping you out of your lustful daze. This time, he catches it though. A slight smirk appears on his face.

“You know, honey, I could just give you a picture. You could clip it to your laptop, so that way you can at least pretend you’re working,” he says. So he had noticed.

“Oh shut up,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “Like you don’t want the attention. You’re laid up like a fucking Calvin Klein ad.”

“I never said I didn’t enjoy it,” he says, his smirk growing as he walks to you. He kisses the top of your head and rubs your shoulder in a way he knows will work you up.

You look up at him, half-unamused, half-needy. You wrap your arms around his waist from where you sit, sliding a hand beneath his t-shirt to feel his skin.

“Maybe, you could give me some attention in return. Might help me focus,” you suggest as you drag your nails lightly over his side.

“Nope, you’ve got to finish your work, and I’m going to shower,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” you say before pinching his side and snaking your hand out of his shirt.

He lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head. “Be good while I’m gone,” he teases.

“Mhm,” you hum. As he begins walking away, you smack his ass, your hand making a muffled clap against the denim-covered flesh.

He turns his head, also trying to seem unamused now, but you can see the love in his eyes. You smile innocently at him.

“Mhm,” he repeats sarcastically.

“I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go,” you tease as he exits the room.

It isn’t long before you hear the shower turning on in the master bathroom. It takes a minute, but with him out of the room, you’re able to focus enough to get a substantial amount of work done. You’re clacking away at your keyboard, lost in thought, not really noticing how much time has passed or that the shower has shut off.

Your concentration is shattered, however, when your personal work of art himself comes strolling past you into the kitchen with nothing on but a towel around his waist. It seemed like he was glistening, every muscle shimmering in the aftermath of his shower. The towel hung low on his waist, accentuating his v-line and exposing his happy trail. The smell of his shampoo engulfs you as he struts by without giving you a second look.

Internally, you felt like a cartoon character with your jaw dropped and tongue rolled out, an outline of your heart beating against your shirt. You try to keep it cool though and not let on how desperately you want him right now.

“Really?” you ask incredulously, “That’s how you wanna play?”

“Am I not allowed to walk through my own living room now because it distracts you?” he asks, “I know I’m pretty babe, but c’mon.”

You can hear that teasing lilt in his voice and it’s just stoking the flames of arousal inside you more. You close your laptop and stand up. Coming up behind Leon, you lace your arms around his waist and press your cheek to the warm skin of his back.

“You’re very pretty,” you agree, “My beautiful guy. Who’s also an attention whore.”

“I’m an attention whore for existing in your vicinity?” he asks, turning around in your hold so that he’s facing you. He returns the embrace and rubs your back with his thumb.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, you’re my attention whore,” you coo and squeeze your arms around him.

“I guess that’s ok then…” he says as he tilts your chin up and connects your lips in a soft kiss.

You return the affection, your need pouring through your actions. His scent overwhelmed you in such close proximity. You move your mouth with his while your hands glide down to his waist. A couple of your fingers slip beneath his towel, gently tugging it loose. The cloth starts to fall from his hips, but he catches the center, holding it so it still covers his length.

You break from kissing for a moment to catch your breath and take in the sight before you. The gray towel hanging between his legs, leaving his thighs and and hips exposed. You look him up and down, and your hands lower to his ass to feel up the muscles there.

“Like what you see?” he murmurs as you make out.

“Mhm,” you hum, not moving your lips away from his long enough to speak.

He backs the two of you up toward the counter, spins you around, and bends you over the cool marble. You feel both of his hands gripping your hips and the towel now crumpled on the floor against your ankle. He then slides his palms over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a firm smack. Sliding himself between your legs, he rubs his semi-hard cock against you over your shorts.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he breathes, his voice raspier as he rocks his hips back and forth, “This what got you so hot when you’re supposed to be working?”

“What can I say? You’re irresistible,” you tease, but it comes out more as more of a moan than you intend.

“Cute,” he chuckles before pulling down your shorts and panties, letting them fall to the floor with his towel.

He drags his tip up and down your folds, teasing you as the head nudges your clit. You’re gripping the edge of the countertop as a whine falls from your lips.

“Baby, no more teasing,” you whimper.

“My eager girl. So impatient,” he says as he finally pushes himself inside of you.

You had been trying to think of a reply, but your thoughts get hazy as his cock fills you. You groan, and your head falls forward to rest against the smooth tile. That doesn’t last long because Leon’s hand is in your hair a second later, lifting your head back up and turning it slightly to face him.

“C’mon sweet girl, you were staring so much, now you can’t even keep your head up?” he grunts as he pumps in and out.

You whine and nod, letting his grip support the weight of your head. He smacks your ass again in time with a deep thrust and a strangled moan falls from your lips. You bite your lip as your eyes flutter.

“That’s right, baby. Let me clear that pretty little head so you can work. Can’t think straight unless you’ve had me inside you, yeah? It’s all you care about till you’ve had your fill,” he rasps and grips your hips harder.

His eyes roll back momentarily as your walls squeeze around him once his words sink in. You pulse and feel the hot coils of pleasure tightening in your stomach. He lets out what sounds like a growl at the feeling. The sounds of your skin meeting his fills the room as he picks up the pace.

“Getting close, angel?” he says and pulls you closer by your hair. Your back is arching and you straighten your arms to support yourself upright. You hear his heavy breathing directly in your ear and feel the hot air fanning your skin.

You frantically nod in response to the question.

“Well, not yet baby,” he says and pulls out of you. You whine, about to complain, but he turns you around and boosts you onto the counter. He slides back in with a groan. “No, none of that. Just wanna see that beautiful face when you cum.”

The new angle has him battering your sweet spots with renewed vigor. He’s got one set of fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh, holding it up so he has room to work his hips for you. His other arm is wrapped around you and supporting your position.

You’re breathlessly whimpering, one leg wrapped around his waist and a hand in his hair. Your skin felt hot against his while the counter felt cool on your ass, especially after you felt the sting of his hand there a few times.

You were already close in the previous position, so you’re barely able to hold it together now. He can tell from the way you’re wildly fluttering around him. Your breathing becomes more like gasps as you approach that familiar edge. His hand on your back slides up to your head and pulls you closer so that his face is in the crook of your neck when he lets out a primal sound that’s somewhere between a whine and a growl.

“You there, honey?” he asks against your skin.

“Mhm,” you hum immediately, nodding again.

“Me too, baby. Let go for me. Squeeze me nice and tight, just like that,” he says, his voice strained and breaking off into a whimper at the end.

You shudder against him and gasp before letting out a long, low moan as you cum. Your body twitches and your head tilts back slightly. He presses some sloppy kisses to your neck before grunting and biting his lip, a choked sound of pleasure emanating from his throat.

His hips sputter and his thrusts lose rhythm as he releases too. You feel his hot, thick cum flooding your insides, the sensation making you tremble with satisfaction. His fingers press hard against your skin while his forehead rests on your shoulder. You feel his ragged breathing on your skin. It’s slightly cool from the light sheen of sweat you’d worked up.

The two of you take a second to catch your breath before disconnecting and untangling your bodies.

“You feeling better now? Less distracted?” he teases, brushing some hair from your face and kissing your forehead.

“Mmm, yeah, but I think I have to take a shower now too,” you say with a grin. You peck his lips in return and then hop off the counter and playfully smacking his ass again.

“I don’t know. You still seem to have something else on your mind,” he says, his own smug smile returning, “I didn’t think my girl would be satisfied after one round. Maybe a few more and then I’ll join you for another shower.”

“I think I like your plan better,” you say as he grabs your wrist and pulls you off to the bedroom.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine

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stararch4ngelqueen · 5 months

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jason getting his wisdom teeth out (or generally loopy on painkillers, like maybe post-mission or smth) and rambling abt how much he loves you and his life. adksjkfh sorry he's such a loser i love him to death

This was such a funny/silly idea I swear. Silly goofy cute husband stuff, I need this man 🧍🏽‍♀️

I did this draft at work and I didn’t have chance to look up reference videos, what you see is what you get 🌝

—

Time written - 9:18 a.m

—

“How’re you feeling?” You ask towards the large lump of a man casually sprawled over a majority of your couch, dressed in dark lounge clothes with a bandage tied around his right forearm. “Feeling alright?”

“Mm… No,” he answers. He’s still pretty loopy, his attention split between you and the ceiling above him. Maybe it’s the medication making him feel so relaxed, but he looks… content.

“No, wait. I- I’m fine,” Jason slurs, a faint smirk gracing his lips. “I’m perfectlyy fine.”

It’s funny; in an ideal world he’d be more embarrassed than he is, his words mumbled through small mouthfuls of damp, pink tinted cotton. Yet he’s so out of it he can’t care if you judge him or not.

Whether he would recall being hauled into an apartment elevator by Dick while you watched, probably secretly taking photos and videos would be a complete mystery.

Of all the ways you’ve had him the most vulnerable, this has got to be the best.

“How was work?” He mumbles, rubbing at his eyes with one hand.

Work? You question in your head, huffing a little bit. You rarely call in, but today was such a necessity. Thankfully you had an understanding boss, and an understandably reasonable friendship with the eldest Wayne son, who helped you carry such a large hunk of brawn and brain from your passenger seat towards your living room couch. You weren’t sure to play along or to break character to a play you weren’t aware you were involved in.

“Work was fine,” you say as you settle in between the slim spot available on the couch. He looks pretty comfortable there, but he probably would be happier in bed. “You sure you’re not in pain?”

“Mhm,” he grunts, closing his eyes as he tries to rest his head against the back of the couch. He looks as if he could fall asleep at any second, eyes half closed.

Jason looks up at you through slightly glazed-over eyes, his expression making it obvious that he isn’t paying attention to a word you’re saying. In fact, he looks a little surprised that you’re even sitting here next to him.

Something about you being so close to him is stirring up the medicated fog in his head. He can barely feel the stitches that he got earlier in his mouth, or how difficult it was to smile from all the numbing they’d done.

“You’re… right next to me.”

His murmured words are slurred, and they don’t make a whole lot of sense, but they make you smile.

“Yeah,” you reassure him. “Just making sure you’re feeling okay.” Of course—he thinks you’re so beautiful, where did an angel like you come from?

“Just rest here for a bit, alright?” Your hand finds its way to his, squeezing his hand lightly. “Think Dick went to go get something for you to eat. Or maybe Alfred made something for you. I bet you’re really hungry, huh?”

Again, he wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. His eyes peered down to his limp hand, seeing your slim, tiny fingers cradled along his open palm. Your skin was so smooth, so—

“Soft…” He mutters, making you scrunch your lips to refrain from laughing.

“Jason,” you attempt again. “You heard me?”

“Mm.. Yeah.” His gaze flicks back to yours, his head raising just a bit as if a teacher abruptly called his name in the middle of class.

“You look, uh, pretty.” He says, blinking once. “Today. Right now.”

Once more, it took everything in you not to laugh, recalling Jason’s insistence that he’d be perfectly capable on this kind of medication last night.

Oh, you were incredibly aware that he’s dealt with various stitches and removing bullets from his body, broken ribs and resetting bones back into sockets. And death. Sure, he’s explained he’s been on hardcore pain medication plenty of times, and how much it would’ve sucked if he was allergic to any of them. He’s Red Hood, he’s handled so much, he could basically handle anything.

However, as truthful as you understood, seeing him in such a state after removing one wisdom tooth was so … funny. Their were hundreds of other amusing descriptions to describe it, but in the end, it was all so very funny, seeing him all giddy like a little boy holding his schoolgirl crush’s hand.

Even though you’ve been dating for about five years. With a year break in between, give or take.

Maybe it’s because he’s so out of it. Maybe it’s all the meds they gave him messing with his brain. As funny as it was, it was also a relief to see him so relaxed, not as tense as he usually was. Especially during off days when he’d insist he was calm and collected, but the tension in his shoulders never dissipated.

“You look so pretty… Your hair, your eyes.”

His soft comment melts your heart, making you squeeze his hand. “Aww. You think I’m that pretty, Jason?”

Jason nods, smiling lazily at you. You lean your head against his shoulder for a short moment, mindful of his slightly swollen cheek.

“I’m sure you already know that, but… Yeah.” His hand raises yours upwards, a brief flush of heat spreading across his face as he plants a weak kiss along the back of your palm.

“Mm… you’re so gorgeous. I wanna tell you every day.” His voice trails off, eyelids getting heavier by the second, nearly hiding his heart eyes from you. There’s no hesitancy in his voice, no doubt to what he says. Just a simple answer, simple truth.

“So, are you feeling hungry?” You try again, reminding him of what you said earlier. If he was paying any attention. “Dick might be here any minute. He might’ve brought some froyo.”

He has a quiet hum, glancing back up at the ceiling again. “Dick. Dick’s always so thoughtful, y’know? Not as, uh, as much as you though. He’d never be.”

You cock a brow, fighting back any amused response. There it was, something unusually unexpected that Jason Todd would say about someone he insists he can’t tolerate about eighty percent of the day.

Dick being thoughtful? You’re positive the man is now in possession of lots of photos and videos of Jason during the car ride home after the dentist.

“I’m not hungry… but I’d love if you fed me.” His voice is soft, just slightly louder than a whisper.

Your eyes widen considerably, finally releasing a giggle after so long. You gave it your best shot, but your response was enough to make your boyfriend lightly laugh. His face winces, a low grunt leaving his mouth as his hand cradled his cheek.

“Awww,” you take his hand, feeling a little guilty for making him hurt. “I’m sorry, handsome. You can’t laugh for a while, did that hurt a lot?”

Jason gives you his best smile, which is admittedly a slightly goofy grin as he shakes his head, putting on a brave front despite the pain coursing through his head. “Nuh-uh. Not at all… Your hands are so soft, babe.”

You resort to a soft chuckle, trailing your fingers up to ruffle and smooth along his hair. “Thank you, Jason.”

He’s slow to reply, clearly lost in thought with genuine, furrowed brows. If not for the medication, he’d probably kiss you right now.

The doorbell rings, giving you a chance to get off the couch and invite Dick in, who carried with him bags of food and frozen yogurt. Jason had no problem staying where he was, his eyes fully closed as his body sank back into the cushions, seemingly content with couch life.

“Catch him saying anything stupid?” Dick mutters to you as you ladle some soup into a bowl, hellbent on capturing any sort of evidence to use against the man for future purposes.

“Other than him believing I’m still his favorite woman, he thinks you’re a thoughtful older brother.”

“Oh yeah??” Dick chuckles, peering his head over towards the slumped man. “I’d think if roles were reversed, he would’ve left my ass on the curb.”

“Don’t be mean,” you scoff, playfully nudging him with your elbow. “You know he’d at least take you back home.”

“Inside a trash bag in the trunk,” Dick muses, casually leaning beside you on the kitchen counter. “You catch it on video?”

“Left my phone in my purse,” you shook your head, reaching into a drawer to get a spoon. “Stay for a while. See what happens.”

“Babe??” You hear Jason call from the living room. You peer your head out this time, seeing him fully sitting up from the couch, his head turned towards you with focused vision and deep concern written all over his face.

“Wait… weren’t you working today?”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x #jason todd dc #this might happen to me soon 🧍🏽‍♀️#how fun

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popponn · 7 months

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weekend news, at night. [itoshi sae x reader]

note: while im cooking i will take a break from writing by writing. no warning, use of japanese honorifics, written with post canon in mind but not explicitly said. a fluff, as usual. and am i truly in love with this guy now. writing something with him in mind is a stress reliever. somehow. un beated, not proofreaded.

“Ah! Sae-san!” you swooned, your hands clapping dramatically as you smiled towards the flat, cold expression Itoshi Sae displayed within the TV.

Across you, another Itoshi Sae—the real one, the living one—watched you with an expression that was somehow even flatter. While you did realize the judgmental stare he was giving to you, who sat across him on the dining table, you chose to promptly ignore him. Sae, who had been watching this display for an hour, decided that it was time to question your brain, “What are you doing?”

“Hmm. Fangirling, I think?” you answered whilst propping your chin on your palms. Never once your eyes left the TV on the living room. “Sae-san’s expression there is really good. I like cool guy who is pretty dry.”

At that very moment, Sae truly wondered if you finally snapped. He had heard about the negative effects of overworking and you did sleep for two hours per day for a week. The fact you pretty much went on a full day hibernation yesterday was a testament to that. But then he remembered how you sometimes gets when teasing him and maybe the slight signs of insanity had always been there.

“I’m here,” Sae eventually decided to say.

“I know, Sae. You are,” you replied. You did not spare a glance towards him as you cheered the moment Oliver Aiku entered the screen, “Ah, Aiku-chan, as handsome as always! Oh, isn’t that Isagi-kun in the background? I miss him!”

Sae really wanted to go to bed all of sudden. He didn’t want to deal with you like this on a rare, empty weekend night.

Therefore, with that in mind, Sae closed his tab and stood up. “I’m going to sleep,” he told you before promptly walking to your shared bedroom.

He could only took a few steps before he was suddenly stopped by, hugging him with a cheeky smile staring directly into him. Sae frowned and your grin grew wider. A thin veil of apology laced your words as you wrapped your hands around his back even tighter, “Sorry. Was it to much for you, Sae-san?”

His eyebrows furrowed at the nickname, “Drop it.”

You laughed, then somehow pulled him towards the bedroom whilst walking backwards like a penguin. The sour expression Sae wore didn’t fade, however he followed you nonetheless without making you letting go of him. “Sorry, sorry. Really, this time. But seeing you being that rude while being so cute really refreshed me!”

Hearing your reasoning, Sae didn’t hold back, “Is your brain really okay?”

“Has anyone who overworked for a whole week ever have an okay brain?” you asked back lightly and somehow bitterly. As the two of you approached the door, Sae pushed the tablet he had been holding in one hand towards you.

“Hold it,” he said. Thankfully, you didn’t try anything funny this time, accepting it with one hand whilst draping the other on his shoulder. Sae rested a palm behind your head and opened the bedroom door.

You let out a coo, almost identical to the one you gave to the screen just a few moments ago, “Aw. Sae wants to cuddle with me?”

Sae didn’t even bother to gave you a reply as he closed the bedroom door, the two of still embracing each other while walking to the bed like a pair of actual goddamn penguins kissing each other.

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xxatinyminionxx · 10 months

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ZB1 Reaction - You Say Their Name

Genre: Reaction, fluff, a pinch or two of crack

Background: You have been around him for some time but never really used his name to speak to him until now.

Warning: Yujin + Jiwoong’s are a little longer sorry I took a break while writing this 😭

A/N: Happy ZB1 debut day!!! At this point I haven’t seen the comeback yet. This reaction is a call back to Say My Name era on Boys Planet in a unique way! 🫶

Zhang Hao

He saw you as the more distant person among his acquaintances and didn’t bother you as much because of it. He respects your space and if you’re not comfortable enough to talk to him, he’d rather not push you.

One day you found a really funny meme and decide to show him. “Zhang Hao, look at this!”

“Hm?” He’ll ask with raised eyebrows, his heart moved by your attention to him after all this time.

You hold your phone out to him, meeting him by his side to watch his reaction. You get the cutest giggle out of him.

“Oh, then I have something to show you too.” He adds before searching for a funny post he recently liked that he thought catered to your humor.

You two bond over your sense of humor and exchange phone numbers before his schedule whisks him away.

Sung Hanbin

You took one of his classes when you were on the lookout for a new hobby. You had such a good time even though tutting isn’t easy.

Swamped with work again, it takes you awhile to sign up for another one of his classes. In the midst of your busy schedule, you think you see him in a store you frequently go to.

“Sung Hanbin?” You ask carefully hoping you’re right and didn’t make a fool out of yourself.

He turns his attention away from a display and smiles politely. “Yes?”

That’s when it clicks. He probably has no idea who you are. A lot of students attended the tutting class.

“Ah, I’m Y/N. I took your tutting class at your studio. I guess I wanted to come say hi and thank you for leading such an engaging class. Dancing is my new hobby.” You ramble on but manage to say everything you meant to say.

He smiles and nods through your immense gratitude for him, his eyebrows furrowing at particular parts that he thinks praise him too highly. Our humble king. “Ah, you’re lovely. I remember watching you try to perfect every hand movement in the mirror. I’m glad I could provide you with a new hobby! Will I be seeing you in class again?”

“Of course!”

Seok Matthew

Matthew was the saint that was always there when you were having a hard time. He held the elevator for you who was sprinting to make it inside, offered you a ride home when it was pouring outside, listened to your advice and opinions on things when others weren’t, and called you his friend when you least expected that title.

The difference this time was that you were going to take him by surprise for a change. That’s what his kind gestures have led up to. While you were used to saying “thank you”, you never really addressed him by his name. It was nameless appreciation.

But when he takes some of the items you were clearly having a hard time juggling to hold in your arms…

“Thank you, Matthew.” Is what you say.

As if his dream came true, his face brightens up and he gifts you with one of his shy smiles.

“Haha no problem Y/N.” He responds lightly trying to keep calm though he’s screaming on the inside.

Ricky

An extremely handsome guy enters your cafe during work hours and he takes you ABACK with his aura. You’re suddenly so glad someone traded shifts with you. Your somehow unphased co-worker takes this man’s order before handing it off to you to make.

You feel his gaze on you for a moment—until it drops to his phone to check something on it. With his head down, you can hardly take your eyes off him as you prepare his order. Unfortunately you may never see him again, which is why you call his name with the utmost enthusiasm.

“Ricky?!”

He peers up at you and greets you with a cute smile before grabbing his order. “Thank you~”

Your eyes remain locked on each other a couple seconds too long for just a meaningless encounter.

“Y/N.” You point to your name tag assuming he wanted to know your name.

He hums and nods. “Y/N, thank you. Have a good day.”

Little did you know he would become a regular just for you <3

Park Gunwook

You had been window shopping today and came across a busking event as you walked around the city. Music along with someone’s talented rapping voice echoes down the street.

You approach the crowd to get a closer look. That’s when you catch a glimpse of a guy you frequently sat next to in school one year. You talked sometimes, but you weren’t really on a first name basis.

You decide to cheer along with the crowd, remembering his name as it used to appear on his school uniform. “Park Gunwook!”

The sudden unique cheer throws him off and he looks over in your general direction. You can tell he’s flustered in the face when he spots you but he keeps going until the end of his verse.

Once his performances are over, he rushes to come see you before you decide to leave. “Y/N!!”

You smile at each other and applaud him again for his charismatic performance. “By the way, did I scream a little too loud?”

He shakes his head all giggly, flashing you his big smile. “I remembered your voice, plus I don’t go by Park Gunwook when I rap.”

“Then what do you go by?”

“TopGunz.”

You can tell he’s not joking.

Kim Taerae

You went to a gathering that people you knew were going to be at. You really were not enthusiastic about going, but you were curious and felt guilty since you had a track record of skipping events like this.

To your surprise, you have a good time up until the host initiates a game of truth or dare.

Sitting in a circle that looks more like an oval, you’re eventually the next person to ask.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

You scan the room but it’s no use. No one gives away what they’re thinking through their facial expressions. This was a 50/50 question.

“Um…dare.” You choose.

“I dare you to hold hands with someone for the rest of the night. Who will it be?” The host instigates with the help of an online list of dares.

“Kim Taerae.” You say in almost the same second that the question into the air to be ‘oooh’ed at.

The called-out young man perks up not expecting you to call his name one bit. “Me?” He can’t stop smiling as he gets up to be beside you.

When your fingers lace together, you notice his hand is warm, some callouses adding to the nature of his hand.

“You’re allowed to switch hands, but you can never let go of each other.”

You two would never let each other go. A lifelong dare meant to stand the test of time.

Kim Gyuvin

You were sitting on the bench at a bus stop when a familiar acquaintance sat on the other end of it. You end up locking eyes and you laugh in unison.

“Hello.”

“Hello~”

Minutes go by and without delay, the bus arrives. You two get up to board it and end up sitting in rows across from each other.

The ride is quiet besides the couples of people to the front of you and behind you having their own conversations.

The bus stops at some photoshoot place and the tall male gets up to leave the bus, accidentally leaving his jacket behind on the seat beside where he was.

“Gyuvin!”

He turns around in shock at the sound of your voice.

“You forgot your jacket.” You get up, scooping up his leather jacket and handing it over to him.

He gives you a sheepish grin and bows politely. “Thank you, Y/N. I’ll um see you again sometime?”

Kim Jiwoong

As a staff on the set of a drama, not only do you get to service the actors, but you also get to peek in at the production occasionally.

The scene being filmed today requires several touch-ups to the actors’ makeup, so you have a closer look at the acting on set.

You make sure to run up to Jiwoong, your assigned actor, to reapply makeup as requested by the director between takes.

He is nice and friendly to everyone apart of the project while his character unironically contrasts so much in front of the camera. His character is cold, confident, and assertive.

Still not completely out of the emotions of the character, he has a somewhat tense look on his face.

“Relax your face for me, Jiwoong. You’re doing great.” You sneak in a compliment being thoroughly amazed by his dedication to the drama.

He gifts you with a small smile before relaxing. “Thank you Y/N, I have to work hard because you work hard too.” He responds in a similar tone as his on-camera character, which makes you hot and flustered inside.

“Still in-character?”

“A little~” He whispers cooly and it takes everything in you not to bolt out of the set area.

“Wow, you’re crazy Mr. Jiwoong...” You tease as you finish up his makeup and take a step back.

He winks at you before taking his place and resuming filming again.

Han Yujin

There is an internet cafe that you frequent since it’s merely a 5-10 minute walk from your house. You’re embarrassed to admit it but almost everyday, you come over to the pc room to play an online game that’s had you hooked.

The game is popular enough that you can easily play with others local to you. While you may have thought that was cool at surface level, you never really gave it a second thought.

You grow fond of a few players and “friend” them on your gaming account. You all start coordinating times to play as a result.

One day, you sit down to meet your online friends in-game using a mic and headset as usual. When you are successful at a specific mission that had you and your friends stumped, you can hear loud cheering from next to you.

There is a small delay between what you hear in your headphones and what you’re hearing beside you. You could’ve sworn you heard your gamer tag being uttered from both, saying the same thing.

“Ohhh! Amazing! Wow, you totally carried us, (your gamer tag)!” Seems to echo in-game and in real life.

The outburst, or outbursts, take you off guard and you push your left headphone off your ear wondering if you were just hearing things.

“Guys guys, let’s go heal up! I took a lot of damage.” The guy beside you says grinning ear to ear, eyes glued to a screen running the same game as yours.

“Wait…Yujin?!?!” You say overwhelmed with shock and kind of excitement. You poke his shoulder repeatedly and of course you scare the life out of him—he’s screaming bloody murder over voice chat.

He soon recovers and it’s clear that you’re the only one who has put two and two together given his bewildered expression.

“I’m (your gamer tag)!” You clear up quickly before he thinks a crazy person suddenly spawned in real life.

His eyes go wide as he recognizes who you are from your computer screen. He then leans far back in his chair letting out a heavy sigh. “Wahhh! It’s really you?!”

You laugh along with the rest of your friends—who are absolutely dying of laughter listening in online—and nod at Yujin.

“Sorry for startling you, you startled me! Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a meal.” You say to Yujin while the others “ooooh” over voice chat.

—

#minion works #zb1 taerae #zb1 gunwook #zb1 hanbin #zb1 matthew #zb1 zhang hao #zb1 ricky #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 yujin #zb1 fluff #zb1 reactions #zb1 scenarios #zb1 imagines #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 x reader #kpop

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jinkicake · 1 year

Text

Duty Calls

Lucifer calls you into his office for some much-needed stress relief.

Lucifer x Reader (afab!reader)

A/N: this is a combo of smuts that i stuck together to make one giant lucifer smut... anything for my demon!!! i also have genshin smut i want to post butttt i’ll do that tmr #lucicomesfirst

SMUT // NSFWW

WC - 1.5k

~~~

‘I need to see you. Come to my room now.’

Lucifer’s simple text message comes at an odd time and leaves no room for any refusal. Upon receiving the request, you nearly drop your phone in shock.

“Fuck me,” You whine and throw your covers to the side in a rush as you get out of bed. Why is Lucifer requesting an audience with you now? Since the last time you were scolded, a mere three months ago, you haven’t failed any tests or broken any of his house rules. What could he possibly have to talk to you about that required such a serious message?

The short trek toward the demon’s bedroom takes longer than usual as you brace yourself with each step that you take. In your mind, you try to run every possibility of Lucifer’s scoldings and how you can avoid his severe punishments. You truly don’t think that you have it in you to sit through another one of his hour-long lectures.

There isn’t even an opportunity for you to wait outside his bedroom door, to take an extra breather, because the door is wide open. Lucifer doesn’t even have to turn around from where he is seated at his desk to know that you are there.

“Come in and shut the door.” His deep voice calms your racing heart down a little as you step inside and quietly shut the thick wooden door. “Lock it.” With shaky fingers, you do as he asks. “Sit,” Wordlessly, you move to sit on the edge of his bed. The soft duvet could make you cry as you fist the material with your fingers.

You wish you could lay down and relax on his bed. If Lucifer wants to scold you about something, you might have to remind him of how you were just sleeping soundly in his bed this morning.

While Lucifer finishes up with the paper he is working on and jots his last thoughts down, you let your eyes drag along the walls of his room. The dark walls soon bore you as your eyes retire to his broad back. You watch with a certain eagerness in your eyes, nearly squirming in your spot while staring at the strong plain of his shoulders. He’s gorgeous, you can’t deny that.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” Lucifer finally places his pen down and roughly pulls you away from your thoughts as he stands up from his desk. When his eyes land on your nervous figure, he frowns. “don’t look so frightened, dear.” He sighs quietly and crosses his arms over his large chest, standing completely still as he looks over you. “You have very fond memories in this room, don’t you?”

Oh, he’s right. If Lucifer were to be punishing you for something, he would have chosen to scold you in his office. He rarely carries over work into his bedroom except for the occasional light reading of paperwork.

“Were you busy?” Lucifer sits down beside you, letting his thigh press into your own. The warmth of his body nearly causes you to shiver. “I understand that this is unexpected,” His hand gently cups your bicep before moving up your shoulder, lightly trailing your skin with light touches. He pushes your hair out of his way before lowering his face to your neck.

You shake your head to answer his question out of fear that your voice will fail you. Lucifer smirks before placing a soft kiss on your throat and tightening his grip on your shoulder when your breath hitches.

“You won’t mind helping me out with something, correct?” His lips press continuous kisses onto your skin, leading a trail up your jaw to behind your ear. With each audible sound, your body grows weaker and weaker until you’re just about leaning entirely into his touch.

“I’ll help with anything,” You whisper, afraid to break the spell he has on you. Lucifer’s hand glides down to your back and rests firmly between your shoulder blades.

“Good girl,” He murmurs into your ear and makes a point to lick underneath your jaw, he’s entirely consumed by your presence. “I need your help.” The plea, as subtle as it is, makes your eyes widen in shock.

“With what?”

“You know exactly what,” Lucifer nudges you back against his mattress and makes sure that you are splayed out for him against his duvet. “I need you, human.”

It doesn’t take long for you to realize just exactly what Lucifer needs. When he sets his mind on something, he makes a promise to deliver, and he always leaves you satisfied.

“Luci-” You suck in a sharp breath, a pathetic moan falling from your lips as your head falls back against the lush pillows lining his bed. “Lucifer!” The older demon deeply moans at your cries and the sight of your exposed in front of him, nothing in all the realms could take him away from you right now.

Lucifer continues to happily lap his tongue between your thighs, sweetly licking hard strips against your clit over and over again. Only when you’re starting to gush against his chin does he dip his tongue inside of you. His long, monster of a tongue reaches far deeper than any toy could. He plunges the appendage in and out between your tight walls, intently rubbing his nose against your clit to make you see stars. Lucifer searches for that spongey spot just past your entrance and he finds it with ease before his tongue starts to grind against that sweet spot.

It’s wet, and messy, and shows just how desperate Lucifer can get for you. He needs this just as badly as you do. He aches when he’s not inside you, the only time he feels utter peace is when he’s eating you out until your thighs shake in overstimulation.

The mere thought of getting you to cum sends him into quickening his movements. Lucifer sits up on the mattress, pressing your thighs to your chest and angling your hips up so he can shove his tongue even deeper inside of you.

The combination of his angular nose rubbing against your swollen clit and his tongue stretching you open already has you squirming against the sheets.

“Oh my-” You bite down on your tongue to hold back a whine, but ultimately let it out when Lucifer pinches your hip. “fuck, Lucifer!”

His animalistic groans against your cunt and the ferocity that has taken over him, driving him to pleasure you more and more until you cum, have you seeing stars. It’s not just his pleasurable motions, but the intensity that leaks off of him that makes you cum.

You finish hard on Lucifer’s tongue, bucking your hips against your face to drag out the orgasm for as long as possible. His nose rubs deliciously against your clit, stretching the feeling out from the pit of your stomach down to the tips of your toes.

Lucifer slowly angles you back down against the mattress, placing your hips back onto the lush blankets instead of his firm shoulders. It’s only when you’re twitching flatly against the bed that he slowly retracts his tongue back into his mouth.

The demon glances up at you and a small upward twitch appears in the corner of his lips as he takes in your ruined appearance. He drags his eyes back down between your thighs and a sharp inhale sends him right back down to your cunt.

He parts you with his thick thumbs and licks from your entrance up to your clit. You’re still so sensitive that you shudder against him but, Lucifer pays no mind to it. He’s already gotten a taste of you, more of you now and he can’t simply pull himself away.

It sends him back into another cycle of lapping his tongue against your pretty pussy, mouthing your wetness to devour it all. He’s loud and messy as sopping noises reach your ears and cause a blush to reach your cheeks. Lucifer has no intention of doing anything in a gentlemanly fashion, not tonight.

He sucks and sucks until you’re lathered in his spit and when he’s finished, he sharply slaps his palm against your ass.

“Mhm, my human,” Lucifer admires you from head to toe as he sits up between your thighs to place his forearms on either side of your head. His face has become so close to yours that you obediently part your lips for Lucifer to meet you in a kiss.

He always makes you taste so good on his tongue, you moan and shift your hips at the warm feeling. Like everything he does with you, Lucifer puts his pride into kissing you. One of his hands tightly grips your hair to angle your head back while the other rests gently on your throat. He takes a sense of dominance when sucking on your tongue, letting the two muscles wrap around the other.

It’s messy and dirty, much like all the things Lucifer does to you and what he has planned for the rest of the night.

#lucifer x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x you #Lucifer smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me lucifer #lucifer x female reader #obey me x female reader #xiaos spicy almond tofu

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starryriize · 3 months

Text

smart cookie | shotaro

— ✧ • ˳೫˚ part of my valentine event

೫ pairing: bf!shotaro and uni gf!reader ೫ summary: your boyfriend is so proud of you so he decides to show you just how much he loves you

೫ genre/word count: fluff, slightly suggestive, comfort! 845 words!

೫ author’s note: eek i wrote this over 5 times and i like how it ended up :(( im sorry this is posted kinda late- i had uni classes :/

You weren’t used to the overwhelming praise you received after your presentation. It wasn’t that the whole auditorium was filled, or that your professor was in the front, watching you, rather it was your boyfriend’s intense stare as you slowly explained the correlation between cursive and brain stimulation. He wore a black tailored suit, which he knew you’d swoon at, but he thought the main event was you. The way the red dress accentuated your figure and made your eyes sparkle under the auditorium lights drove him crazy.

As you finished your speech and the thunderous applause subsided, he got up from his seat, making his way toward you. “That was amazing, sweetheart!” Shotaro squeals excitedly, picking you up by the waist and giving you a short spin before putting you back down. Taking his hand from your waist, he brought it up to your cheek, gently brushing it. How did he ever end up with someone so intelligent and beautiful? “No, I’m serious. That speech was amazing, much better than anything I’ve seen my peers do.”

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but the emotions begin to overwhelm you. The room slowly disappears as you think back to the first time you pitched your idea. No one believed in you at the time, besides your boyfriend. You feel your eyes start to water, overcome with pride at how far you've come.

“Do you mean it, Taro?” You tilt your head expectantly, looking at his face for any sign of doubt. There isn’t any. All you can see is his loving gaze and his eyes that speak a thousand words. He sighs, not an exasperated one, but one of compassion and comfort. “Yes, love. I mean every word I say. You’re incredibly talented and smarter than you think.”

He presses a small kiss on your forehead. His hand resting gently on your cheek and the other on your shoulder. “Let’s wipe your tears off, hm?” Letting his hand drop from your face, he quickly laces his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the now-empty auditorium. The university was virtually empty, the only noises that could be heard came from the soft whirring of the air conditioning units.

Walking hand in hand down the long corridors, you find yourself in a familiar place: the bathrooms. Holding the door open, he gestures to you to come in with him. You raise an eyebrow at him, “Taro- we can’t both be in the bathroom together. It’s…oh.” You trail off, seeing the sign that reads: the family bathroom. He smiles, the kind of smile you always have been melting for. Laughing, he teases, “It’s to wipe your tears off, love. Unless you’re hoping for something else.”

Smacking his arm lightly, you follow behind him, stopping in front of the mirror. Staring at your reflection, you notice your eyes were slightly puffy from tearing up earlier. Tearing the paper tissue from the dispenser, you quickly run the paper under water before dabbing at your eyes.

Your boyfriend admires you as you fix yourself up, lost in how stunning you are. He knew he was incredibly lucky to have someone as smart and as breathtaking as you in his life. Sure, other girls were there but none of them were you. Smiling, he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your shoulder.

“I love you. Did I ever tell you that?” He catches your eyes in the reflection of the mirror as you sigh happily, “Yes, Taro. Yes you have.” He lets out a small giggle, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d walk you down the aisle in a heartbeat. To him, your love was like oxygen, something that he can’t live without. When he first met you, he didn’t believe in love or any of its annoying clichés, but now, all he wanted was to go through every cliché with you.

Gently, as though you were a porcelain doll, he presses a soft kiss on your neck. A part of him desperately tried to be as gentle and as slow as he could go, but he also wished to completely ravish you. You who looked too ethereal on stage, blushing at every compliment. He continued kissing your neck, moving down to your shoulder, occasionally catching your gaze in the mirror.

You were definitely no longer crying now that your boyfriend kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear and kissing your exposed shoulders. Spinning you around, he captures your lips in a burning kiss, inwardly groaning at the taste of your cherry lip gloss. As you pulled away to catch your breath, he smirks at you, pleased with how dazed he’d made you. “And here I thought I was going to cry all night.” You smile at your boyfriend, your eyes glossed over and just blissfully in love with him. He flashes a grin back at you as he leans towards your ear, whispering, “I’ll show you just how much I love you tonight.”

#laur’s thoughts 🧚🏼‍♀️#laur’s valentine 💌#riize imagines #riize x reader #riize scenarios #riize fluff #riize shotaro #shotaro imagines

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minniepetals · 1 year

Text

cry me a river | the snakes

— summary: you're left on your own to save your own self

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.8k

— warnings: kidnapping, allusions to torture

— PART 19 / previous post / masterpost

“..lady.? My lady..?”

A vision of blur, a haze falling over your eyes, yet slowly but surely, you’re beginning to come back to yourself as the aching pain in the back of your head becomes more and more apparent with your consciousness beginning to return.

You find Sunoo who stares down at you with much worry, his eyes frightful and shaky, brows arched in a furrow, his lips quivering a bit. He probably felt you stir and realized you were finally coming around again because when you start to rise from the cold, hard floor, he’s right there to help steady you.

You take a moment to blink hard, trying to get rid of the hazy vision, and in the darkness of the room, your eyes slowly adjust to the low light as you make out someplace that looks like some sort of cell.

“Are you alright?” Sunoo asks after you but before you can answer him, another voice comes in.

“How’s your head?” You almost jump, quick to turn at the source in a defensive stance as you realize you aren’t alone in this cell with the little boy. There’s someone else, someone familiar, someone you know. “There’s no need to be so alarmed, I won’t go near you,” he says, voice low and calm for the strange situation you’re placed in.

“...Yoongi?”

He remains in the darkness but even then you can make out his figure as he sits in a corner, an arm on his propped-up knee, relaxed against the wall behind him as if it’s been some time since he’s arrived here.

You turn back at Sunoo who gives you an innocent shrug before putting your focus back on your ex-boyfriend.

“What’re you doing here?”

“The same reason the two of you are here.”

Your brows crease. “You know Nari?”

He shrugs lightly, “You could say that,” before repeating the question to you. “And you?”

“..Well.” Your answer is short and curt, refusing to let anything reveal itself, but Yoongi accepts it, not pressing you any further in the same way you don’t press for him.

When you hear the little boy behind you shiver slightly against the coldness of this room, you give up on being so defensive against Yoongi and turn back around as you take your jacket off to drape it over Sunoo.

“Is your thigh okay?” You ask, patting lightly on his right leg. “You let me lay on you for support when I was unconscious, don’t do that again. In times like this, you have to worry about yourself first and foremost. I’m stronger than you after all. I can withstand the cold and sleeping on the hard floor isn’t something I haven’t gotten used to.” The White Room was always like this after all. Like a prison cell.

Just brighter.

He presses his lips into a thin line at your chiding, head lowered as he hunches up his shoulders, shrinking at your demand. “I’m sorry.”

You accept it with a hum. “How long have I been out?”

“Um…it’s been a few hours...I think.”

Good. A day hasn’t passed.

“Did any of them hurt you when I was unconscious?”

He shakes his head and you try to detect any lies in his eyes but Sunoo beckons over at Yoongi unexpectedly. “The mister helped me when one of the guys tried to hit me.”

You turn towards the man, who doesn’t react one bit. Well, Yoongi’s never been one to stand down when he sees violence displayed against innocents, especially when it comes to children, so that much isn’t a surprise. Though it does beg the question of just how he got here, when, and why. What’s his connection with Nari? In the three years you’d spent with him, Yoongi is known to be a man who doesn’t stick out too easily, not in the way Jimin or Seokjin does, so he’s not one to attract personal enemies all on his own.

So what’s the deal with Nari? How did he get kidnapped in the first place? And why are you here on the same day as him? You haven’t seen Nari in a while but perhaps she’s been keeping up with what you’ve been doing ever since your last encounter.

She’s obsessed like that after all, not one to simply let things go especially when it comes to someone she feels inferior towards. But she’s never had the chance to go after you with all that she wishes without your father constantly by your side.

She saw an opportunity and took it.

He’s gone now after all.

But isn’t her father still alive? Did her father ask her to kidnap you? No, maybe it was Nari who took it upon herself to take you away. You wouldn’t put it past her.

You look around the cell room, trying to find a weak spot but there are no windows, no holes in the walls, nothing on the ground that can lead to some secret passageway a previous prisoner has decided to dig themselves out from.

The only escape is through the bars right in front of you. Solid, strong bars that seem to be well taken care of without much rust seen on them.

“I assume you were taken alone,” you speak into the silence after leaving Sunoo’s side, voice low as you eye the outside of the bars. Yoongi hums in response. “You think anyone would think to suspect Nari on your end?”

“No,” he states with a sigh. “None of the boys know I even know Nari.”

You turn from the bars, raising a brow as you lean your back against them, arms crossing before your chest with a heel held up against one of the bars. “Who would have thought you have your own secrets you keep hidden from them.”

Yoongi shrugs at your accusation, not denying it as he looks off to the side, eyes falling a bit distant. “Everyone has secrets. Some are better at keeping them than others.” He pauses. “Like you.”

“Well,” you look away at his accusation, “it’s true that no one alive knows of my connection with Nari, which will make it harder to suspect her. Nari isn’t someone who will keep evidence behind for people to find, whether on accident or on purpose. Her people are always there to pick up after what she misses, they’re all meticulous like that, so if none of our people know to connect her with us, that means the only people who can get us out of here is ourselves.”

“You plan to leave with me?” Yoongi raises a brow, suspicion falling your way.

“I killed Namjoon’s brother,” you look back at him, eyes pointed without a bit of falter in them, “I might as well rescue one of his boyfriends if I’m given the chance.” Yoongi watches you, steadily, to deject any weakness, anything at all, but you’re too good to show any emotions whatsoever, and after a brief glance made at your bandaged neck, he looks away, wondering where the girl he saw back at the manor went.

Weakened and out of control.

It seems the further away you are from your Reapers, the easier it is to distance yourself from emotions, from feeling. It’s probably your body’s way of protecting itself, knowing just when to shut down and keep your guard up with the strongest steel, not leaving any gaps behind.

Your Reapers are probably the only escape you can find to help you feel anything, though Yoongi guesses even then, you probably don’t know just how to release everything you actually want to feel. Whatever you’ve gone through, whatever secrets you’ve kept from them back when you were still in love, and the new secrets you’ve created after the divorce, they’re all things he knows he will never come to know the answers to.

Not unless you tell them yourself.

You hurt, you lie, but it is all to protect yourself. He wonders if Namjoon had never forced you out of the Bangtan manor would you have been able to let your guard down a little more? He wonders if you would have allowed them to protect you.

It wouldn’t have been an easy journey but he wonders if you would have been able to trust them a little more in the love that you held for them.

“Mingyu.”

In the silence of the empty bedroom where the little kid should have been, Dasom’s call is loud and clear as he simply stares at the neatly made bed in the right corner of the room, left untouched.

It’s one in the morning, Sunoo’s roommate has been moved to another room in order to be with his friends, that way sleeping would be easier for him, that way he’d feel a little less guilty about something he has no purpose in worrying over.

“Do you think they’re together?”

You also should have returned hours ago but when one of the Reapers went to pick you up, there were no signs of you anywhere.

Just the same as Sunoo.

“Boss knows how to take care of herself, she would have never fallen into the hands of someone else.” He steps over to examine the boy’s desk, two books sprawled messily, three more held up on a small shelf, a pencil cup, a notebook. “She also knows how to defend herself while protecting others. But,” he takes a book from the desk to flip through its pages, “not unless she was outnumbered and there was a defenseless child involved. Boss would never risk the chances of them getting hurt.”

“So you confirm that they’re together.”

He nods at Dasom’s question and finds the headmaster letting out a sigh of relief at that.

“Yeonjun.” He calls, and the younger man is instantly by his side.

“All the security cameras around here have all been destroyed. The only thing I found was through The Academy’s security cameras but the only glimpse I got from both boss and the little boy is that they headed towards Garden street. The camera doesn’t span very far though. Boss’s gadgets have been turned off a few blocks away but we searched all around and we’ve found nothing to note of her belongings.”

“They either took it with them and destroyed it at a different scene or they have it on them at the moment.”

“Either way, they’re meticulous,” Dasom says after Mingyu as she turns to stare out at the window of the little boy’s room. “No evidence left behind, and they took them hours before anyone saw any of them.” She thinks for a moment as the two boys continue trying to look through the room, before Dasom turns back around, her arms crossed over her chest. “You don’t think it’s someone from her past…do you?”

Mingyu pauses for a second before proceeding to speak. “We can’t rule out anyone but if it is someone from boss’s past,” he glances Yeonjun’s way, “it’ll be a headache to try and figure out who it is that’s bold enough to kidnap boss. Especially with how secretive she is with everything.”

He runs a hand through his hair, already feeling the migraine coming through.

Loud footsteps echo suddenly into the silence of the hallway, coming closer and closer, and in an instant, you have Sunoo behind you, away from the bars of the cell with an arm held out to cage him back from whoever it is that’s on their way here.

Yoongi looks up on high alert, prepared just as you are, though you both know you can’t make it out as easily as you hope to. But getting any information no matter the circumstances is vital and you’re prepared to do anything to try and find a way out.

No one from the outside can help you after all. None of your people, both yours and Yoongis’ know about your connection with Nari. They’ve never had any reason to suspect it after all, so why would they start now? And with you being so secretive and Yoongi having his own reasons for hiding things, there’s no way anyone outside can find anything to start suspecting.

The guards come in five, all of them buff and tall, and you can feel the beat of your heart drumming harshly against your chest, the memories and trauma wishing to tear you apart but you take deep, deep breaths, steadying yourself.

Mingyu’s taught you techniques to calm yourself down when you feel as if your life will be in danger. He’s taught you how to control the beat of your heart, how to manipulate your mind into thinking things are okay when they really aren’t.

You’ve been placed in scenarios where you’ve had to toughen yourself and let your mind pretend you’re fine before so you know you can do this. If these men are hoping to grab you and take you away to wherever, you can manipulate yourself into believing their touches are not those of men.

As long as you’re prepared beforehand, you can do it.

So you close your eyes when you hear the sound of the chains on the lock moving about, knowing that it is to be opened any second now, preparing yourself for whatever it is to come.

“Mr. Min.”

And yet they call for Yoongi instead.

You look over to where two of them move to him just as another follows but stays a few steps behind, giving you a simple glance with piercing dark eyes that tells you if you were to make one wrong move, Sunoo will have to pay the price.

Both you and Yoongi aren’t dumb enough to make a mistake in costing the life of a child.

So you watch as they place a blindfold over his eyes — a smart move on their part because there’s always a risk prisoners will try to find ways to escape during the maneuvers from their cells — and tie his hands together from behind, pushing him out the cell.

When the door clangs closed and the cell is locked up once again, you hear Sunoo let out a quiet breath of relief just as the six of them all leave.

“What will happen to that mister?” Sunoo asks, his hands trembling when he tugs onto your sleeve, his eyes looking up at you with big brown eyes when you turn to him. He looks frightened, afraid of the fate that is to come to him, so you press a hand on his head to try and comfort him somewhat.

“I don’t know,” you admit, not wanting to sugarcoat things because you know he probably already understands to an extent what is to come for Yoongi.

Everything depends on what Yoongi means to Nari’s gang — the Viper gang — and how he got involved with them in the first place. Did he piss them off? Somehow that seems a bit unlikely in your opinion. The Yoongi you knew isn’t someone who goes around messing with other gang members that have no association with Namjoon and his orders. He listens to whatever Namjoon tells him, they all do, so he wouldn’t deliberately piss someone off accidentally or due to personal reasons. Yoongi is careful, calculated, and minds his own business.

Whatever his relationship is with the snakes, whatever brought him to be a target under Nari’s radar, that will be what determines his fate in the end.

“What about us? Will we be next?”

He looks so small beside you. It reminds you of the time you first met him down in the undergrounds, a frail little kid so bony the small clothes they had him in couldn’t even fit him properly. Sunoo was malnourished, just like the rest of the kids down there, but in the few months you had them in The Academy, he’s been able to grow some fat and muscles. One day he’ll look his age.

If we manage to get out of here, that is.

You aren’t too worried about him though because if there’s one thing you know about Nari, it’s that she has a soft spot for kids.

She’s a tough nut to crack but in the time you spent with her, you came to realize that Nari, no matter how spoiled of a brat and narcissistic she is, at the end of the day, she cares for something. Perhaps it’s the only thing that has kept her sane in all the years she’s lived as a daughter of a mafioso.

Every child is a victim in the end.

The parents are all to blame.

“You’ll be fine,” so you tell Sunoo, a promise he knows you wouldn’t give him unless you were absolutely confident. You aren’t someone who will lie just for the sake of things after all. You’re strict and hard on everyone, including the kids, and in the adult world of lies, your truth has always been something they could rely on.

“And you?” He asks, and when you don’t give him a reply in return, Sunoo’s brows crease with fright and anger, the sort of expression he didn’t give you when he thought about his situation. It’s admirable the way he cares more for you instead. He was the same for his fellow friends when they were under Ying’s reins.

“You should worry more about yourself.” You turn your body fully his way, pulling the collar of his jacket closer around his neck, then slide your hand through the right of his pocket where you remember he hid the snack he offered you hours before. “Eat. You need your strength.”

“But-”

“Do not disobey me, Sunoo.” When you use his name, he closes his mouth shut. Despite the protest still seen on his face, he listens to your words because he knows he has no other choice. You only stop looking at him with a hardened expression once he’s torn the snack open and begin to bite on it. “If there is something you must know, if you wish to protect me in your own way, that is,” his ears perk up, attention on full display, and you give him a pointed stare, “do not cry.”

It is easier said than done.

Surely you must know it isn’t easy for a child to obey those words no matter how much an adult tells them they shouldn’t cry, right?

Of course you know.

You know more than anyone.

How many times has father punished you for going against the things he wished for you to do? How many times were you weak when he asked you to be strong? How many times did you still tremble before a gun when he asked you to master it? How many tears did you shed when he commanded no emotions out of you?

It took time to become the puppet your father wished for you to be and despite having mastered it so well you still have his thoughts instilled into you after his death, it wasn’t something that happened automatically after one day.

Still, you ask of Sunoo to listen to this one command.

“When they torture me and hurt me, when you hear my cries and screams, do not cry. Do not move a single inch. Do not show your emotions to the enemies.”

It is the very words you uttered to your Reapers when your father still lived.

Yoongi doesn’t return.

But the guards do.

And when they do, they take you away without Sunoo, who in turn panics instantly, his face contoured with pain and affliction, fear consuming his thoughts they indicate so clear in his eyes. But you stop him from wanting to go at it with the guards before he gets himself into trouble with a simple look.

That look is enough to have him freeze in place as he remembers the command you gave him prior to the guards returning. He takes it in, watching as the guards tie your hands up behind your back, a blindfold covering your eyes.

The last thing you see is the struggle he holds plastering his expression; a struggle of knowing he must do one thing but wanting to do something else.

He wants to protect you, to rid of the men who’re taking you away to wherever they may hurt you, and yet the words you told him lets him remember that if he does actually want to protect you, the only way he can do so is by doing nothing.

By pretending none of this is affecting him.

By holding no emotions.

Just as the Reapers once had to follow and obey when they lived by your father’s side, watching day in and day out when you would make a small mistake and get punished for it.

Watching.

All the while pretending to be robots who cared about nothing.

If a Reaper fails this task, you would be on the verge of death and the Reaper would never see what tomorrow looks like.

Sunoo may not understand it yet and Sunoo may never understand it but you see the way he falls with conflict in the same way Yuna used to look. In the same way Yeonjun did, and Dasom did. In the same way Mingyu did.

And the rest of the Reapers.

The battle between wanting to care but knowing that is the most dangerous risk one can take.

You’re sure he’s holding onto the bars of the cells when the doors lock shut and when you’re escorted away. He calls after you, small voice breaking with despair and fear not for him but for you.

You know that deep down he must worry about what’s going to happen to him, about the fate that lies before him for the next few days, and yet right now the only thing that really matters to him is your well-being.

You chuckle to yourself.

He really does remind you of the Reapers. He’s got the heart of one, though you know you can never allow him to serve by your side.

Yeonjun has and will be the only youngest member of your guards.

You count each step you take being escorted away, having hope in Sunoo being okay, knowing to keep your head alerted at all times.

The blindfold serves no weakness; it isn’t see-through and you can’t see anything whether you look up, down, or sideways. It’s completely see-proof. So the only thing you can rely on is counting every step you take, as well as the twists and turns you make through the hall of the cells.

If you ever have to return to these cells for Sunoo or whatever the reason, you can rely on your memorization skills. You’ve done it before in the maze of Leehyun’s mansion.

A door opens, a few more steps, and the ropes fall from your wrists, replaced by two chains on each wrist, holding your arms up from the wall it’s chained to. Only after they’ve secured you do the blindfold get taken off.

And then, you take a deep breath, knowing the pain will now be coming.

“Poor little girl, still waiting for her happy ending.”

You look up at the familiar voice, wanting to laugh at the words she just uttered while her heels click under each step she takes.

Happy ending, what a joke.

“No one is coming to save you. Get up.”

Exhausted and in pain from almost everywhere, you still listen to Nari’s command as you place a palm on the floor, taking effort in holding your body up as it trembles from wanting to keep strength. You see blood dripping onto the floor, having fallen from your head, yet you can’t take your time to think or keep yourself steady because the chain is forcefully pulling you up once again, causing you to let out a little scream of pain.

Nari looks amused.

“How wonderful it is to finally be able to do this,” she says, her smile bright as she claps her hands together, shoulder hunching with delight. “Buttercup, you don’t know how happy I am to see you in such a state. I wish your father had allowed me to let me play with you in the way he allowed the rest of his toys to do so.”

“That’s never stopped you.”

“Right, right,” she nods at your comment, remembering those times as if it was a fond memory to look back on. “But father always reprimanded me once he found out. It was your father that had to pacify my father in the end.” She lets out a sigh, releasing her hands. “Isn’t it such a shame my father was so fond of you and your father was fond of me? What a twist in a fairytale.”

As if she’s ever had to struggle through a father’s lack of love.

“But then again, you’ve always had it far worse than me, didn’t you? Father would never let anyone hurt me after all.”

You feel your consciousness coming in and out, eyes a blur, sometimes too dark to see anything.

“Tell me, buttercup,” Nari holds your chin up by the tip of her fan, not wanting to get herself dirty in the slightest, and if you could spit in her face you would but you know better than that. “Aren’t you upset your father’s death hasn’t done you any benefit? I mean look at you. You’ve been going after everyone that’s done you wrong and yet they still do things to your head, don’t they?” She pokes you hard on the head, causing your body to stumble back.

Yet you keep your legs steady. You have no other choice, if you were to let your legs give in, the chains holding your arms up would tear them apart.

“You aren’t as smart as you believe, buttercup. I mean look at you, in the palm of my hands before you could even get to me.”

You sway a bit to the side so you let your right leg take a step towards it, keeping your upward stance. “You were never on the list of guys I wanted to go after.”

“Yes I was!” Nari’s quick to deny, her bold brows knitting between each other, those pearly white teeth bearing against one another. “You were going to come after me sooner or later! You’re just mad I got to you before you could me.”

“Why would I go after you, Nari?” You look straight at her despite your blurring vision, a light chuckle leaving you. “You never posed a threat to me.”

She seethes at your words, offended you would think so little of her after all the time she’s spent trying to make your life a living hell by making fun of you and picking on you whenever she got the chance. She would flaunt your father’s kind attention towards her whereas he always acted indifferent towards you. There were times when she’d order her people to hurt you, times when she’d pretend you did her wrong in front of your father, just to prove and show off the fact that he cared more for someone’s daughter than his own.

Though you always knew the truth behind all of that.

Nari had always been insecure when it came to you. It was your beauty that made her pay attention to you in the first place, because before you walked into her life, she was the prettiest anyone had ever seen, yet the attention flew your way the second you walked by.

Her father and the people that served under her shifting their attention fueled her insecurities.

For a good while you had let her get under your skin because she was right, father always acted as if he cared for other people’s daughter than his own, than you, but the person you are now knows he’s still a psychopath who doesn’t actually care for anyone.

Father always did what he had to do in order to bring forth allies.

He never cared for Nari in the way she thinks he does.

“You’re wrong! I am a threat to you!!” She bellows in a loud screech, already throwing a tantrum upon such simple words. If you’d known these small ticks would get to her, you should have used it against her in the past.

Too bad your past self was too kind and naive though.

“Your father cared for me in the way he’d never care for you! And I’m pretty!” She lands a hard slap on your face before stepping forward to put her hands on your shoulders, shaking you hysterically, forgetting the fact that she hates getting blood on her body. “Look at you, buttercup, look at how you look right now. You’ve got blood running down your head, you’re chained up against your will, barely able to stand on your two feet. You think you look pretty right now?”

You laugh at her naive way of thinking. It’s a bad idea, Nari’s got a big head with a huge ego and anyone who threatens that — her beauty most of all — will be on the receiving end of her wrath, whether they mean to or not.

“You really think a few hits in the face will cause those heads to turn away?” Still, you provoke her, wanting to have fun in the way you never could when you were younger; always the one who got the punch and never stood up for yourself.

What a pitiful little thing.

Nari’s right about one thing; Nobody is coming to save you.

Her head is quick to snap towards her men in the room, who aren’t fast enough to avert their attention from you. So in that split moment she caught them staring, it only adds fuel to the fire, and you laugh a little louder when she starts screaming.

“Careful, little celery, you almost look like you want to kill them yourself. But don’t you hate doing the dirty work?”

Min Nari.

Minari. The Korean word meaning water celery, a nickname she hates most of all, and along with the fact that she finally realizes she’s tainted her hands by touching you out of anger, she flinches when she catches sight of the blood on her palms. Her eyes bulge, disgust morphing her expression as if she was a germaphobe.

She’s not. She’s just dramatic.

The door clicks open before she can let out another shriek of ire, a voice walking in. “My little princess,” he calls, and Nari is quick to answer to the nickname that’s been bestowed to her.

“Papa! Y/N is—” Her breath hitches suddenly, shoulders flinching, and when you find the sight of her face morphed with something that looks like guilt, you realize perhaps her father didn’t know about this whole setup with you.

Though it’s not the only thing that surprises you today.

Min Yoongi, low and behold, comes walking in right behind the head of the Viper gang, along with a few more members of their force, without a scratch on his face.

So he isn’t an enemy of theirs?

Then just what is his relation to the snakes?

When he meets your eyes among Nari’s sudden silence and Junmyeon, her father, who looks as if he just walked into a scene his eyes weren’t meant to see, Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly at the state you’re in. Though he’s quick to mask that moment of weakness away before anyone else, aside from you, can notice.

He blinks, looks between you and Junmyeon, and you know you shouldn’t reveal anything about your relationship.

Not that you were going to.

“What are you doing?” Junmyeon, that old man, is quick to scold Nari though not without panic. “Quick! Release her!” He commands the nearby men and being that the head of their gang has given them the order, they know not to be in defiance no matter how much Nari begins to refute.

“Papa! You can’t do that!”

“Don’t you know who Y/N is now?” He rushes over to where you fall to the floor the instant the chains are loosened, but freezes when you hold a hand up, asking him not to touch you. He looks frantic, eyes scanning the area everywhere, and Nari doesn’t understand the reason behind his panic. “The Reapers are our allies! You can’t go around kidnapping and hurting just anyone, princess, especially not the new head.”

“Why does that matter?” She complains, her nose flared as she watches the way her father rushes to unlock the chains around your wrists himself. “Papa, you’ve always let me do everything I’ve wanted, why’re you stopping me now?”

She stomps over to where the two of you are, pushing her father aside and grabbing the chain that’s still on you, yanking it so that you’re forced to pull away from Junmyeon, the metal around your wrist digging further into your skin.

“Don’t you love me?!” She shouts, lower lip jutting out into a pout as she ignores her disgust for blood and all things dirty, sitting behind you and bringing her free arm around your neck, pulling you flushed against her chest. “Why do you always care so much about Y/N?”

What a child, still throwing tantrums when things aren’t going her way.

“Princess, I know you’re upset but please—”

His appeasement only makes her more upset. “I want her gone!”

“Get away from Y/N, please. She’s the Grim Reaper.”

“And?!” She tightens her hold around your neck. “She got that title handed down to her only because her father died! If her father hadn’t died, she’d still be living under his shadows. What makes you think she’s strong enough to go against others, much less me? She’d be nothing without her father’s men.”

What a foolish little girl.

You see the way Yoongi looks off to the side and the way dread and alarm contour Junmyeon’s face.

“Don’t you know why her father died?” Well, when speaking to the leaders of your father’s old allies, you did only exchanged words with the heads, not anyone else, so you guess you shouldn’t blame Nari too much for being left in the dark.

“He was murdered, why else?”

“By Y/N!”

By Y/N.

By you.

You feel Nari tense up in an instant, the grip she has on you frozen in place, and even though you can’t see it, you know her face must have quite the amusing expression plastered on now that the cat has finally gotten out of the bag.

“B-but…”

When her doubts kick in, ready to rebuttal her father’s words, Junmyeon continues speaking. “Bangtan saw her the day the former Reaper died, Yoongi can confirm it with his eyes.” Nari looks his way. “And a few weeks prior, Y/N met up with each leader of the Reapers’ allies and we, in turn, helped her plan her betrayal.”

What a day that was, seeing the expressions on the allies’ faces when you met up with them secretly without your father. They questioned what was going on, wondering why the Reaper’s daughter would ever seek out an audience with them without her father. You were always with your father when meetings were held after all, never alone, never away, and when you brought everything you had to the tables, threatening them with things beyond their abilities, they all eventually came to comply.

All you asked was for loyalty in return and loyalty in the mafia world is a code that must never be broken.

Not unless someone more powerful offers them something better than you can.

You forced them to break their loyalty to your father, you’re sure there may be others out there who can try and lead them astray from you, but at the moment, no one is more powerful than you.

The same goes for the Reapers.

You only decided to discard your father’s men rather than use them against him because you needed absolute loyalty. If they would be willing to betray your father for you, that meant they could betray you for someone else. And the Reapers in your hand are people you know would never betray you. You gave them the one thing no one in this world could, after all.

You saved them.

And they, in turn, gave you their life.

Your father’s allies all have the chance of stabbing you behind your back but that’s all the more reason you keep your Reapers beside you. With them, there are no loopholes, and no one will leave your eyes if one were to plot treason.

Though you never expected a certain spoiled brat would think to kidnap you, using a child to make you comply.

You admit that was smart on her part.

But now she’ll be facing the consequences of her action.

Junmyeon lowers his head before you, hands lying flat on the floor, bobbing his head up and down, forehead meeting the wooden tiles beneath him each time.

“I apologize, Y/N, please forgive me,” he begs.

“Papa, why’re you bowing to her?!” Nari still doesn’t understand.

“Nari!” So he calls her name for the first time, a rough, scolding tone in his voice as he levels her a glare. He’s never used her name before when addressing her. “Beg on your knees now or our gang will go down in history.” He returns to bowing again and again your way.

Smart man.

Yet Nari leaves your side to push her father from his repeated action, anger surging further for her father not listening to her and not being able to let things go the way she wants. “Stop it! Stop! Stop bowing to her! She’s nothing!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Nari.” Her head snaps back your way, glare now leveled your way as you find her eyes red, stinging with unshed tears.

“Shut up!” She shouts at you, her emotions getting the best of her as she marches your way once more to land a loud slap that echoes into the room.

The room falls frozen though Nari breathes hard through her teeth, still in denial she’s in a position beneath you, still not wanting to accept it. She refuses to.

And while everyone else around her has turned solid cold, you only let out a hysterical laugh that makes Yoongi look at you with concern, Junmyeon and his men’s expression fall with terror, all the while Nari seethes even more, her face now more red than it’s ever been.

She turns away, stomping when she leaves the room, only to return seconds later with a certain child in custody, her hand wrapped around his neck while the other points the tip of the gun on his temple.

“Stop laughing or I’ll kill him! I will do it!” She threatens in a loud shriek before the corner of her lips curls into a smirk that shakes unsteadily.

She’s frightened of the power you still have hidden up your sleeves, but she still wants things to go her way.

“I know you care for children, buttercup, you wouldn’t let me hurt him now would you?”

Speak for yourself.

Sunoo stands there against his will, and when you meet his eyes, he’s calling out to you. What happened to you, my lady? Why are you hurt? Despite the fear instilled in his eyes (because what sort of child wouldn’t be frightened of a gun pointed to their head), he still watches you with panic and worry. His eyes show anger, and for a second he scans the room, wanting to know just who it is that has caused you to look the way you do, but he returns to you as quickly as they had left.

In a state where he should be more worried about his own life, he puts you first.

That’s what makes him so strikingly similar to the Reapers.

“Nari-”

“And you!” She points her gun at the man who had spoken up, brows furrowed so deep her wrinkles are showing — a sight you know she hates more than anything. “Papa, why have you brought him back here! I thought you only cared for me so why would you bring brother back? He ran away on his own, you should have let him stay that way!”

Brother?

You quickly bring your attention to Yoongi, eyebrows raised, eyes widened, because of all the things you thought about Yoongi’s involvement with the Vipers, being Junmyeon’s son was never on the list.

Min Yoongi.

Min Nari.

Min Junmyeon.

Yoongi never told you he had a father who belonged to another gang, much less a sister. In all the times you spent with him, listening to his secrets and insecurities, he never mentioned any of this to you. And with the fact that he’s confirmed that Bangtan wouldn’t know to suspect the Vipers in his kidnapping, you’re sure he’s never told the boys either.

But why?

Now that you think about it, for all the years you’ve known the Viper gang, Junmyeon has never mentioned ever having a son, so…is Yoongi illegitimate or did he receive the same treatment you had?

Neglected and forsaken?

After all, for the longest time, no one knew your father had a daughter and that was all because he didn’t want anyone seeing just how incompetent his own daughter was. Only a few close allies knew of your existence, and after you grew strong, only then did he allow the world to know of you.

Though even then, you were still hidden from most of the world.

“I get it, I get it.” Junmyeon scrambles from the floors to where his daughter stands, hands out to try and appease his daughter. At the end of the day, he will always be a fool for his daughter. “I know you’re upset but hey, now that your brother’s back, you can play with him instead. I know you like having your way with Y/N but don’t you remember the times when you had fun with your brother?”

Fun.

Nari’s definition of fun is different from that of the average citizen, and when you look at Yoongi, he reacts with nothing but his eyes facing the floor, looking tired.

Yoongi. Min Yoongi, is not the type of person who likes torturing his prisoners. Not because he doesn’t like getting his hands dirty like Nari but because it disgusts him and he’d rather leave that to someone else. There are times he’ll stop the others from doing too much to the ones that’s done them wrong, times when he’ll leave the room and only return when the screams have died down.

Yoongi will never lay a hand on anyone unless someone has truly pissed him off, and it takes a lot to piss off Min Yoongi.

He doesn’t raise his voice, he doesn’t raise his hands even during times when it seems reasonable. He doesn’t get upset for himself but he’ll get upset for others, and even then it will take a lot on the other end to actually get him to do something.

You’ve seen Yoongi upset before, you know he’s capable of being the hard man Namjoon and the others are when they’re upset, but you’ve never seen him lose control to the point of wanting to punch someone until their death.

Min Yoongi doesn’t get angry.

And you think that perhaps he’s always been such a quiet man because the family he grew up with never cared to hear his voice.

Here is Junmyeon, his supposed father, trying his best to make his little princess happy, by using his own son as a way for her to take her anger out on.

In the end, every father in this world is messed up and the children are to pay for their actions.

Nari, messed in the head. Yoongi, letting them stomp on him.

“I don’t want Yoongi! I want Y/N!” Nari continues complaining like a child, stomping her feet and shaking the gun she has in her hand. “Papa, can’t you see? Ever since she walked into our life, my life has been a living hell!” What an exaggeration. If she really wants to see hell, you can show it to her. “She has the audacity to be prettier than me and laugh in my face! Papa, can’t you do something?”

“She’s the—”

“I don’t care!! Whatever Nari wants, Nari gets. Isn’t that what you’ve told me my whole life? So why are you stopping me from getting what I want now?”

“Because—”

“No one would know,” she says quickly. Quietly. “How would they know?” You raise a brow when she spares you a quick glance. “Her Reapers don't know of our relation, they wouldn’t know to suspect us. How many days have passed already, papa? Have you gotten any threats? And brother’s people don't know either because he’s good at keeping his mouth shut.” She looks between you and Yoongi, a smirk curling along her lips. This one is confident. This one is arrogant. “No one would know.”

“Princess…”

When Junmyeon continues arguing, she keeps going, trying to reel him in. “Papa, aren’t you ashamed to be worshiping the grounds of woman? I thought you were stronger than that, I thought you were more powerful. Now that I’ve gotten everything set up and no one knows to come for us, isn’t this the perfect opportunity to take back the power you had before the Reapers ever came into our life?”

What a cunning little girl, smarter than you expected.

She knows just what to say, knows what pushes her father’s buttons and what motivates him. It’s true that the Vipers have never been more powerful, much less on the same level, as the Reapers. Your father was a great emperor who ruled with strict guidance, leaving no room for discussion, and if he had to make his allies into his pawns and throw them out when they were no longer useful to him, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

The Vipers were just a gang he associated himself with to grow and they’ve been nothing but a pawn in his game of chess.

It’s true if they rid of you now, no one would suspect a thing and they would gain more power than they’ve ever had in their long line of reign. You’re powerful and strong and so is Yoongi, but with Nari using Sunoo against you, the two of you can’t think of escaping without the chances of Sunoo dying.

Junmyeon finally looks convinced when he glances your way, that impending smile on his face just waiting to come, and you lean your head back into the wall behind you, wanting to scoff at the situation.

Well. Looks like you can’t finish your revenge plan after all.

Only death awaits.

682 notes · View notes

thecuriousquest · 5 months

Text

Sub!Deku to Dom!Deku

***Note: It was really hard for me to decide if I wanted to post this for a few reasons. One because this doesn’t exactly align with my regular content and I don’t want people in my inbox asking me to write for Sub!Deku. There’s nothing wrong with men wanting to sub, and I’m not kink shaming. Two because I’m unsure if all of my followers will enjoy reading gay content. This is just a thought I had on my mind, so if you don’t like it, then don’t read it.

PLEASE FUCK PLEASE READ THE FUCKING WARNINGS FUCK PLEASE

Warnings: Yandere themes, NSFW, polyamory, homosexual relations, bisexuality, bisexual relations, heterosexual relations, sex training?, non con, kidnapping, Victim!Reader, Sub!Reader, Bakugou the Sadistic Dom, Shoto the Hard Dom, Izuku the Dark Daddy Dom

No tag list for this post.

Master List

—————————————————————————

OKAY BUT JUST HEAR ME OUT!

TodoBakuDeku where Bakugou is like the leading Dom of the relationship, Todoroki is a dom as well, but Midoriya is their sub.

Then you come along, kidnapped in all of your tied up glory, and Izuku kind of just gets hard looking at you. He wants to slap you and watch you cry into your gag, stick his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and stretch out your tight pussy only to deny you the satisfaction and watch you rub your thighs together. These are feelings and thoughts he has never had before, and he’s scared because he doesn’t want to tell his doms about it, fearing they might turn him away if he vocalizes what’s going on with him.

So, he begins to brat out. He’s on edge, and Katsuki and Shoto notice this.

Whereas Shoto is a hard dom, he’s willing to let a few things slide. He will grab Deku’s chin and ask, “Do you need to spend some time kneeling on rice?” He tilts his head at the shorter hero, bangs shifting with the movement. “Answer me, Izuku. Is that what you need?”

If his green eyes shift away from the bicolored ones, Shoto will smack his lip lightly to regain Izuku’s focus. “I asked you a question, and you will answer it.”

“No…Sir, I don’t need to kneel on rice. I’ll be good.”

And Shoto smirks, letting Deku go and do whatever it is he was about to though more sullenly than before.

Katsuki isn’t, however. Katsuki is a sadist and puts Deku right over his knee and spanks the ever loving fuck out of that pale ass.

“The hell’s gotten into you, Nerd?!”

“Ahhh! Kacchan! Please, stop!” He’s on the verge of crying, not even having endured ten swats yet.

“That’s not what you call me when you’re being punished. You know the rules, brat!”

“M-Master! I’m sorry, Master!”

He can’t take anymore after forty, and sobs his heart out over the sturdy thigh, telling Katsuki all about how he wants to dom you.

“Master, I…I know I belong to you and Sir but…I wanna try it. I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave me? I still want to be your sub, Kacchan! I love you and Shoto so much.”

And Katsuki doesn’t really know what to do. He’s used to his little nerd always crying about something or another, but this is so different. What would this make Izuku? A bisexual switch? If so, he’s never heard of the term before, but it’s not an impossibility. Katsuki, Shoto, and Izuku are all bisexuals. That’s why they chose to…bring you to live with them instead of another guy. They all fell in love with you when they saw you one day while they were patrolling together.

Izuku has never shown dom tendencies or behavior before. That’s the only reason why it comes as such a surprise to him. Then, he realizes that Izuku has been stuck over his knee, sobbing into folded arms while he’s been thinking things over. He pulls his nerd up onto his thigh and hugs him, petting his mop of green hair soothingly.

“Hey, I’m not mad or anything. Quit fussing. Just surprised is all. Shoto and I aren’t leaving you. Got it?”

Deku nods, his freckled cheeks perking up with the soft smile of his lips. “Got it, Kacchan.”

AND THEN BEGINS THE TRAINING.

Shoto and Katsuki find a new way to bond with their little sub and victim girlfriend. The two train Izuku on how to dom you, and Izuku finds it a lot harder than he thought it would be. He wants to be nice to you, loving with you, but something dark in his heart keeps wanting to pop out. He wants to see you cry so he can lick your tears up. He wants to pull your hair back with raw strength until your neck strains so badly it might break. He wants to choke you until you pass out and fuck you into waking you up with an orgasm. He wants to spank you so badly that you end up bleeding. He wants to hear you call him “Daddy”.

Shoto is usually the one who tries to get Izuku to restrain himself, telling the forest green hero, “Go easy on her since this is likely her first time doing something this extreme.”

And it is. You’ve never experienced anything like kidnapping or BDSM before. Sure, you have experience when it comes to sex. This is another story, however.

If Deku gets a little too rough with you for his liking, Shoto’s not afraid to slam a palm down on Izuku’s ass and pull on his balls until he can regain his composure.

Bakugou…well…is Bakugou. He sits in the corner with a nice view, legs propped up on a chest in front of the bed, beer in hand, and spurs Izuku on as he watches the show. “Stick your cock in her ass. She can take it.” Fucking sadist.

It’s their little gift to Izuku, letting him take all of your holes first. He’s been such a good boy for them ever since the three got into a relationship. It’s the least they can let him have.

You’re left a crying, mewling, and whimpering mess. Sweaty, bleeding slightly from where he pressed his fingernails into your hips as he demolishes your pussy from the back.

Izuku hooks a finger underneath your gag, dragging it down as he bites into your shoulder. He huffs in your ear in a husky growl, “Call me ‘Daddy’.”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a wail as his hand cracks down on your thigh.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Daddy! Daddy, please,” you sob out with heavy breaths.

Izuku moans as he fills your throbbing pussy up with come.

Katsuki laughs as he realizes something. “Hey, she’s a crybaby just like Deku!”

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere deku

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lunarzstarz · 1 year

Text

(12 Days of Kinkmas) Day 3: Exhibitionism

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington

Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, fingering, spanking, praise kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dom(ish) bisexual Eddie and sub(ish) reader/Steve, nicknames (sweetheart, sweet thing, baby, good boy), Steve has a bisexual awakening, Steve’s thick dick (honestly cannot stop thinking about it)

Summary: You and Eddie give Steve an extra special Christmas gift…

A/N: Let’s just pretend I didn’t post this 2 days late…anyways I’ve wanted to write a Steddie x reader fic forever so here it is I hope you like it :)

As always likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

Word Count: 3.5k

You were laying on the couch in Eddie’s trailer, legs resting on his lap while he watched the TV. Winter was here and it was time to start saving money and thinking about Christmas presents for friends and family.

“Okay so far I’ve got a mug for Wayne, new dice for all the boys, the girls are getting make up, Nancy a new dress, Robin a new sweater, but I still can’t think of anything for Steve” you sigh, setting the list aside. You and Steve had been friends for a long time, but when it came to birthdays and Christmas you were clueless on what to get him, never feeling fully satisfied with the gifts you gave him and he always managed to get you something great.

“What are you getting me?” he turns his attention to you, and you roll your eyes, throwing your pen at him.

“Cologne and a blowjob” you reply bluntly, teasing of course, you had an extra special gift for Eddie this year.

“Same as last year? You know me so well” he smiles blissfully “Can I get a preview though? These pants are getting pretty tight sweetheart” he palms himself and you lightly kick his stomach.

“Come on Eds, what do we get Steve? He’s your friend too you know” you huff, wrecking your brain to think of something better than last year.

“A girlfriend?” Eddie snickers.

“Oh come on that isn’t nice, you have to stop bullying him for that” you tut, nudging him.

“I’m sorry I can't help it, the man probably hasn’t got laid since eighty four” he laughs again, focusing on the TV again.

“Yeah well, lest we forget that you would be a single virgin right now if it wasn’t for me, so you have no room to talk” you remind him.

“I know, but I’m not and I love you for it” he shifts from his position to lay on top of you “Come on, you’ve been gift planning all morning, I’m bored.” You knew what that meant, especially by the bulge now pressing against your thigh.

“You really are insatiable, you know that?” you look down at him as he rests his head on your chest.

“Thanks baby” he grins up at you stupidly before sitting back again. You positioned yourself on your knees next to him and your hands went straight for his belt. He lifted his hips so you could slide his jeans and underwear off, his hard cock resting against his stomach.

“You owe me later” you say before taking him by the base and pumping him at a painfully slow pace. There was so much pre cum, like he was aching for your mouth, like you hadn’t sucked him off this morning already.

“Don’t worry I’ll fuck you nice a good later, just shit- stop being a tease” he hisses when you swipe your thumb over his leaky slit. You lean down and spit onto his tip, letting it run along his length to help you slide over him easier. He bucked his hips impatiently, his head hitting your lips when you lean down to wrap them around him.

He gathered your hair in one hand, the light tug felt nice as you slid him further into your mouth, he never pushed you, knowing your throat was probably still sore from his roughness earlier. So instead he let you do it your way, slow and teasing, but keeping up a pace knew got him there after a while and made him feel good. This was the pace that made him make all those sounds you loved, the whiney sighs, the deep groans.

“Fuuuck sweetheart, never get tired of this mouth” he moans, thumb brushing the side of your head as you take him halfway, pumping the rest of him, bringing your free hand up to cup his balls. “Love having my cock in your mouth don’t you? Take it so well” he praises, hips moving involuntarily.

You knew it would take him a while to cum like this, but you didn’t mind, he was right, no matter how much you acted annoyed when he asked you to suck him off, you always would. You loved the weight of his length on your tongue or when his salty cum dripped down your throat. So you went on like this for at least twenty more minutes, stopping every time he was close to build up his release.

“Gonna cum next time baby, just keep sucking, just like that” he instructed, balls tightening as he felt his orgasm approach.

You paid no attention to the sound of tires on gravel outside, or the footsteps approaching the trailer, you were only focused on making Eddie feel good. That was until there was a knock on the door a few feet away from you.

You pull off Eddie with a pop “Shit, it’s Steve!” you whisper yell.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” He matches your tone.

“He’s here to pick up the things I got for the christmas party, quick put it away!” you go to sit up and fix yourself, but Eddie’s grip remains on your hair.

“We aren't finished here yet, maybe we could give him an early christmas present” he has that menacing smirk on his face.

“Eddie no, you have no idea how he would react!” you warn him.

“Please, he’s a guy who hasn’t been with anyone other than his right hand in at least six months, trust me” he pushes you back down again “now get back to work, it hurts” he groans when your tongue meets his tip again. “It’s open!” Eddie calls in a sing-song voice, he couldn't wait to see Steve’s face.

“Hey, is Y/n around? Said she had some…stuff for t-the…party” Steve trails off when he turns from shutting the door to see the two of you.

“She’s a bit, christ- busy right now, but I’m sure she will be more than happy to help once she’s finished” Eddie says, trying to keep his cool.

“I-I um could come back later if-” Steve was flushing pink, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight, your mouth wrapping around Eddie’s cock, the way he was looking at him like he was next.

“Don’t worry about it Stevie” Eddie says, calling him by the nickname you usually had reserved for him “take a seat, won’t be much longer with a mouth like this” Steve took a seat in the armchair opposite, eyes blown wide as he watches Eddie lose himself, he looked like he was about to cum in his pants. “Think she’s got a present for you Steve, a real good one” he says, head falling back.

“That’s it sweetheart, right there fuck- fuck- right there” he whines loudly, holding you in place as he let his load into your mouth. You give him a few more pumps, making sure you got every last drop. He pulls you off, spit and cum dribbling down your chin, you swallow and wipe it with the back of your hand.

You look over at Steve who is still staring at you open mouthed, pupils blown wide from watching you. “Hi” you give him a shy smile and he gulps, Eddie sitting with a smug grin on his face.

“You gonna give Steve his present? He seems like he really needs it” Eddie’s eyes drift to the prominent bulge in Steve’s sweatpants, Steve turning bright red and trying to hide it.

You knew what Eddie was hinting too, you were no stranger to him letting other people have you or threesomes with his friends, it was just something that was a part of your relationship. Eddie never got insecure or jealous either, he got off on it and after had their way with you, Eddie would be there to fuck you ten times harder, it was his way of reminding you, no matter who you slept with, in the end he was always better.

Eddie got up from his spot on the couch, planting a kiss on the top of your head as a way to say thank you “Your turn Stevie.”

Steve gulped “I- uh, you don’t have to-” he started rambling.

“Relax, she just wants to make you feel good, nothing to worry about” Eddie gestures for him to take his spot next to you.

“And you don’t- you’re okay with this?” he asks Eddie, confused by the whole idea.

“More than okay” Eddie says casually, taking the cigarette that was behind his ear and lighting it “you don’t have to of course, up to you, but you look like you need to let off a load, that right hand not cutting it anymore?” he teases.

Steve rolled his eyes, Eddie had been bringing up the fact he hadn’t gotten laid in months almost every time they were together, it was really starting to piss him off. He looked over to you, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from sucking on Eddie’s dick, tits almost spilling out of your shirt. Eddie was right, his hand wasn’t cutting it anymore and the tension had been building for weeks now.

“Okay” he said, standing up from the armchair and sat next to you “are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks you now.

“Are you?” you gave him a weak smile, he looked nervous, you couldn’t blame him after being best friends with you for years.

“Yeah” he said, taking a deep breath “should I?” he tugs on his waist band.

“All you need to do is relax, just do what feels right” you place a kiss to his cheek, then the corner of his mouth, his lips parting slightly as his eyes shut. You kissed along his jaw and stopped below his ear “You gonna let me take care of you Stevie?” you ask, grazing your hand over the outline of his bulge.

“Fuck yes” he says, grinding against the palm of your hand, the touch of someone else already feeling ten times better than his own. You smile against the skin of his neck, placing light kisses, finding a spot to suck on to leave a few marks.

Meanwhile on the other side of the room, Eddie has stripped down to his underwear and shirt, lounging in the armchair, cigarette in one hand while he lazily strokes his cock with the other as he watches you two.

You pull back the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, reaching for his hard-on. He sighs when you brush against his leaking tip, he was already making such a mess for you. He lifted his hips to get out of his clothes, bottom half bare so you could get more access. Your eyes go wide, out of all the people you had been with, Eddie always had the biggest dick. Steve wasn’t as long as Eddie, but definitely much wider, you couldn’t help but think how he would feel stretching you out.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks when he realizes you were staring.

“Nothing, it’s just big” you practically drool at the sight, taking him by the base and giving him a light squeeze. You leaned down to lick a long stripe from his sack to his tip, tongue lapping up the pre cum that had dribbled down his length, you felt his hips buck beneath you.

“Please” he threw his head back once you suck his tip into your mouth, starting to pump his girthy length. You let yourself drool a gag on his tip, the sloppier you were the more he seemed to like it. His hands fisting at his sides, you pull off him, pumping your spit and his pre cum along his shaft slowly, not wanting him to bust his load so soon no matter how much he needed it after so long.

Eddie stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up again, taking a seat behind you on the third and final spot on the couch. “Don’t tease the poor baby sweetheart” Eddie teased, Steve twitched in your hand at the pet name “get sucking.” You did as he said and placed Steve back in your mouth, picking up your pace “She likes it when you hold her hair, loves it when you fuck her throat” Eddie said, watching Steve struggle to find something to hold on to.

He gathered your hair up, lacing his fingers close to your scalp so he could tug lightly. You felt him hesitantly pushing your head, if it were Eddie he’d be fucking your throat raw by now. “Don’t be shy Stevie, she can take it, can’t you sweetheart?” Eddie says, hand coming down to connect with your ass, the pain dull considering your clothes still being on, but it went straight to your core.

“Mhmm” you hum, making Steve groan as it vibrates through him, his confidence building as his tip starts prodding the back of your throat. Eddie had trained you well when it came to deepthroating, but with Steve’s girth it was a bit harder than usual. You let your jaw go slack, Steve pushing your head down further until you gagged, then pulling you off again to compose yourself.

“Come on, you can do better than that” Eddie coos, pulling your pants and underwear over your ass and down to your knees, spanking you harder. “Use her, she can handle it” another smack, harder again, this one definitely leaving a mark. “Gonna get her nice and ready for you Stevie, you want Steve to fuck you sweet thing?” he asks, placing a kiss to the mark he left behind.

“Yes, so bad” you reply, another smack.

“Best get to work then, gotta show him how good you can be for him” Eddie said, spreading your ass and spitting on it, letting his drool run down to your cunt, mixing with your slick.

You let Steve guide his cock back into your mouth, prepared to take him all the way. He pushed you this time, when he felt the restriction of your throat, he slid further in “Fuck, feels so f-fucking good” he whined, hips bucking up to fit the last of his length down your throat.

“That’s it, taking him so well, sweet thing” Eddie praised, his fingers coming down to tease your entrance. “All she wanted to do was make you happy Stevie, wanted to give you something special this year, isn’t that sweet” Eddie said, pushing his fingers into you “Though I just think she wanted an excuse to have your cock.”

You can’t say anything, too busy focusing on the feeling of Eddie’s fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and Steve fucking your throat. “Oh shit, m’gonna cum” Steve moans grew louder, fucking into you faster, the feeling of your throat constricting around him so tight was bringing him so close to the edge.

“Go ahead, cum down her throat, she wants it bad don’t you?” Eddie felt you squeeze around his fingers “fuck yeah she wants it, wants you to fill her up.”

Steve’s grip on your hair grew tighter as he held you flush against his base, the scarce hair of his happy trail ticking your cheek. He came with a loud whine, thighs shaking beneath you as his cum painted your throat.

“Holy shit” he panted, pulling you off so you could get your breath back.

You gasp, spit and cum dripping onto your chest “Did such a good job baby” Eddie pulled you back so he could kiss you, partially to soothe you and partially to taste Steve on your lips. “Look at him, made him feel so good” you both watched as Steve tried to gather himself, chest heaving beneath his shirt, hair clinging to his damp forehead. “Think our girl needs a reward don’t you Harrington?” Steve opened his eyes to look at him, our girl.

“Y-yeah” he said, starting to come down from his high.

“What do you say sweetheart? You want Steve to fuck your pussy, think he deserves it?” Eddie asks, kissing the side of your neck, hand reaching to your front to stroke your clit.

“Fuck- yes!” you moan, leaning into his touch. Eddie leaned back, placing you between his legs so he could watch Steve fuck into you.

“Come on Steve, don’t make her wait any longer” Eddie encourages him out of his pleasured daze. He gets up on his knees in front of you, getting rid of the bunched up clothes around your ankles. Eddie hooked his hands behind the backs of your knees to pull them to your chest, making sure you were spread for Steve.

“Pretty isn’t she” Eddie says when he catches him staring at your slick cunt.

“So pretty” Steve agrees, stroking his cock a few times to get it hard again. Tapping his tip against your wet clit “Just, let me know if you need me to stop.”

You nod and Eddie laughs “Don’t think she will, but how sweet, isn’t he such a good boy for us sweets?” Eddie smiles up at Steve, his cheeks heating up again, did Eddie have this effect on everyone?

He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed into you, the two of them watching your face contort at the stretch. “Fuuuck” you gasp, the sting was something new.

Eddie grinded against your back, groaning as he watched Steve’s thick cock sink deeper into you. “That’s it baby, taking it so well” Eddie whispers whiney praises in your ear.

“S-so big” you let out a shaky breath, the ache making your eyes water as he bottoms out. You hold onto his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as he starts the slow rock of his hips.

“You feel so good, so fucking tight” Steve grips onto your hips as he pulls out to the tip, slamming back into you.

“Oh my-” the air is knocked from your lungs as he repeated his actions. You were unable to form words, respond to whatever Eddie was whispering to you with loud cries or whimpers, he soon gave up and focused on rutting his hips into you.

Eddie didn’t think Steve had it in him, but he was pounding into you at an unforgivable pace, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs making the lost lewd sounds echo off the walls. Steve doubled over, hitting you at a deeper angle making you scream with pleasure as his thick cock dragged against your g spot.

His face was inches from yours and Eddie’s, he leaned down and kissed you, sloppy but you didn’t mind. Then after a few seconds he pulled away, looking at Eddie, you could see a switch go off in his mind as he leaned in and kissed him on the lips, you felt Eddie shiver beneath you. Steve pulled away again, clearly shocked at his own actions, but not disappointed.

“Knew it” Eddie said to you, sounding winded like Steve had taken his breath away.

Steve didn’t stop or comment on the kiss at the time, instead he picked up his pace, fucking into you brutally. It was filthy, the wet sounds of your pussy, Steve’s moans and Eddie panting in your ear, hot breath on your neck as he chased his high. You were all covered in a sheet of sweat, it beading on Steve's forehead as he tried to keep up his animalistic pace, the smell of sex in the air.

You were in heaven, body pressed between two of the hottest boys in Hawkins, it felt more like your christmas present. Tears welled up in your eyes as the feeling of core shaking pleasure took over you, Steve’s hips stuttering and Eddie’s rutting faster against you, all three of you chasing your highs.

“Aww look, you’re making her cry Stevie” Eddie coos, letting his hands roam up your shirt to your tits. “Is Steve making you feel so good? You gonna cum sweet thing?” he pinched your nipples hard making you shriek, smiling against the skin on your neck as he started sucking on it.

“Oh fuck- shit- I’m gonna cum again, where you want it?” Steve grunted, hips faltering as his orgasm approached.

“I-inside” was all you could manage as you reached your release. One last drag of his cock had you cumming with a loud cry, pure pleasure coursing through your core, cunt clinging tightly to Steve, tipping him over the edge too.

“Holy- fuck, fuck!” he moaned, thick spurts of his cum coating your walls and filling you up. He fucked his load into you, making sure you got every last drop. Eddie wasn’t long to follow, his hips coming to a stop and the feeling of warm cum on your back a few seconds later.

The three of you lay there, stacked on top of each other unable to move, not saying a word all too fucked out to form a sentence. The only sound was the three of you catching your breath, basking in the after glow of sex. You let your eyes drift shut, head fuzzy, knowing that someday this would happen again.

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admiringlove · 2 years

Text

exes.

synopsis. hq boys bringing up their exes during an argument.

genre. headcanons; angst to fluff.

characters. sakusa kiyoomi, kuroo tetsurō, oikawa tōru.

warnings. swearing, crying, etc.

author’s note. i contemplated publishing this, it’s been sitting in my drafts for a month :/

navigation. main menu, hq menu.

— SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

sakusa was a very private person. so, dating him came with the fact that he had boundaries. and his career wasn’t easy on you either, because he preferred to keep your relationship private.

you weren’t the type of person to argue with that. in fact, even you preferred it this way. it would be way easier if the two of you were hidden away from the crazy fans and the invasive media. so you went along with it. you’ve known kiyoomi since college; you’ve adjusted to his mannerisms, his quirks, his ups and downs—everything, really. he couldn’t be more grateful to you.

but everything came crippling down when you thought that it had been too long since the two of you started going out. that maybe, just maybe, you and kiyoomi could still lead a private life if he just announced to his fans that he has a significant other—just mentioning it, or posting a story on his instagram or any other social media. the first time you had brought it up, he’d dismissed it lightly. you’d tried again and again, but he just wouldn’t budge.

just like today. but something was off about today as well. you hadn’t exactly had a good day at work, and neither had he. but you approached the argument either way, even though you probably shouldn’t have.

“we’re happy, aren’t we?” he asks in a taunting way, “why do we need to tell the whole world we’re together if we’re content.”

“omi,” you take in a sharp breath, “we have been together for eight months. eight. that’s more than half a year.”

“yeah, so?” he raises an eyebrow, shrugging. you hate the way he’s so dismissive whenever the two of you come to a disagreement. while you’re usually level-headed, you tended to have a complete change in personality when you were arguing with someone. just like today.

“do you- oh my god, kiyoomi!” you huff, “i’ve been nothing but patient for the past seven months, but this is a limit that you’re crossing. i thought that after so much time you would be comfortable but no-”

“this is getting annoying,” he sighs, “why are you acting out like this? everything was fine until last month.”

“because,” you grit your teeth, “i don’t wanna be some secret fling anymore. if you can’t take responsibility then i don’t want to be a part of whatever this is.”

“you do realize you’re behaving just like nami, right? that nagging pain in my ass who kept telling me to make our relationship official even though we dated for only two months.

“w-what?”

“what else do you think?” he taunts. you can tell he’s lost his cool but the things he’s saying pricks at your heart. it hurts. it hurts so much that you don’t know how tears start flowing down from your eyes. sakusa isn’t looking at you, he’s pouring himself a glass of water in the open kitchen while you look at his back in disbelief from the living room. you wipe at your cheeks and when your boyfriend finally turns around is when he realizes how badly he’s screwed up.

“[y/n]-”

“save it, you jerk,” you spat, “go find another pain in the ass to sleep next to tonight, i’m going over to atsumu’s.”

sakusa’s eyes widen in fear, he keeps the half-empty glass on the counter haphazardly, following after you like a lost puppy until you slam the door on his face. he flinches, breathing unevenly and irrational thoughts racing in his brain.

“i’m sorry,” he says, leaning his forehead against the white door, “that was a jerk move.”

he hears shuffling on the inside—it felt like you were sliding your back down on the door. he heard a few sniffs, and guilt ate away at him. he didn’t mean to hurt you at all, but the words came out on their own. maybe it had been the swarm of fans outside the gym today because of hinata’s birthday that ticked him off. or the fact that one of his tires punctured on the way back home from work. he doesn’t know why all of this happened, but he wants to go back to how the two of you would be in the bathroom applying lotions and creams to your faces before going to bed. you would make jokes saying that kiyoomi looks like a ghost and he would say that you don’t look too different either. sometimes he’d poke your waist before leaving the bathroom just to see how you’d react. sometimes he’d kiss the top of your head and immediately make a yucky expression because some of the lotion got onto his lips and made his whole mouth taste like bitter, soapy flowers.

he doesn’t get a reply from you. but he still stands there, waiting for you to open the door or give him an earful.

and after around fifteen minutes, you do come back out. but with a bag filled with some essentials, and a mask covering your face. sakusa’s eyes perk up, “where are you going?”

“move,” you seethe, “i’m going to atsumu’s for the night.”

“i can’t let you do that,” he says, shaking his head and trying to cup your cheeks. you take a step back from him, and his heart breaks. he tries to look into your eyes but you’re looking everywhere but at his own.

“well excuse me if i don’t wanna be a pain in someone’s ass,” you mock, “now, move.”

“i didn’t mean it,” he cries. his eyes are red, and he looks miserable. you roll your eyes, even though you want to believe him, “omi, i’ve known you for five years. you say shit you mean when you’re angry.”

“i wasn’t angry,” he reasons, “i’ve had a bad day, and i know that doesn’t excuse anything but you’re not like her. i’m so sorry. you didn’t deserve it. i don’t deserve you.”

“look, kiyoomi,” you sigh, “figure it out, okay? i don’t wanna be treated like crap. i’m leaving for now, but i’ll come back later.”

“[y/n]-”

“no, omi,” you say, walking away from him, “i said, figure it out. i’ll be back tomorrow night. until then, sort your thoughts out. okay?”

you turn, walking towards the door and opening it. you glanced back one last time to say goodbye when you catch a glimpse of his face.

“please don’t leave me,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. your eyes soften, “i’m not leaving you, dummy. i’m just goin’ over to atsumu’s to cool off for the night. i’ll be back tomorrow. till then, just. reflect, or something.”

“o-oh. um, okay. uh, can i ask you a question before you leave?”

you nod, humming as you grip your bag tightly. his voice is quiet, “are we gonna be okay?”

“i don’t know, omi. i don’t know. but we can try.”

— KUROO TETSURŌ.

kuroo was always sophisticated. you appreciated that about him. in fact, it's what drew you to him more. he was so ambitious in college; he could go on about volleyball for hours. it would be like that on your dates at first. you, him, a muffled movie, blankets and random talks about your futures together.

but when your futures are what drift you apart, can you really blame each other? you weren't college kids anymore—the pipedreams you shared weren't real, life caught on and jobs became hectic. schedules didn't fit with one another anymore. you grew up, and so did he.

and that might've taken a turn for the worse. the complete opposite of what you had imagined it would be.

"tetsurō," you say, losing your patience by the second, "i'm only asking for you to make time. you work overtime way more than you need to and it's honestly affecting our relationship-"

"does your job not affect our relationship?" he asks cockily, raising an eyebrow. you scoff, "you know i gave up that promotion so we could spend more time together. why can't you put in some effort too? it's not like i'm asking for much!"

"i'm only working overtime for us, [y/n]. where the hell do you think all the money goes? it's savings. for us. i work for us. what, am i just not supposed to do that anymore?"

"i didn't say that," you pause, "make time for me, tetsurō. that's all i'm asking from you."

he grumbles, running a hand through his gelled hair. and then, he says something under his breath that you thought would've never come out of his mouth.

"nari wasn't like this at all. tch."

you blink, tilting your head to make sure you heard him correctly. he's taking his coat off and hanging it in the rack. he doesn't see the way your eyes fill to the brim with tears as you whisper, "what?"

he pauses abruptly, turning around, "love, i didn't mean-"

"your ex didn't give up her promotion for you because she was fucking her boss behind your back," you grit your teeth, "if you want me to do that too, all you had to do was just say so."

kuroo stops in his tracks. mouth opening and closing like a goldish’s. he looks shocked at the sudden change in your attitude, but he knows it was deserved. you run up the stairs, locking yourself in your shared bedroom as your fiancé paces around the apartment in worry.

he fucked up. and that too, terribly. it took him a long while to move on from his first love—and who was the one who helped him throughout the process of him returning home drunk off his ass or needed soothing? you. you, his best friend, his roommate (at least, that's all you were back then), and someone who was irrevocably in love with him but never uttered a word.

it took him a long time to convince you that he was over his ex, and that he'd realized he was in love with you all along. college kids might've been all you were, but you were intelligent enough to know that he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. his corny chemistry jokes, your clumsy habits, him being better at sports and you being better at video games, him knowing how exactly to make your coffee in the mornings, you knowing just what he needed whenever he was sick. you two just clicked. there was nothing complicated about it, really.

he was the one who proposed to you. and now, it seemed like he was the one who was breaking your relationship into pieces. kuroo cursed, taking his shoes off and racing up the stairs. just then, you stepped out with a bag.

"i'm going over to kenma's," you mutter, "leave me alone for now."

he shakes his head, "no."

you raise an eyebrow at him. your somewhat calm composure scares him, but he continues, "i can't let you leave. i need to fix this."

"you can't just ‘fix this’, tetsurō," you say, trying to walk down the stairs. but he grabs your arm, "i'm sorry. none of that should've been said."

"but you said it anyway, didn't you?" you retort, "what, you want a fortune cookie for apologizing?"

"[y/n]-"

"go back to your so-called nari if you miss her," you snarl, "i'm done."

"no," he cries, "we aren't done. stop."

you continue walking towards the front door, and he grabs your bag. you tsk, trying to take his hand off. but his grip is too strong.

"stop walking away and listen, will you?" he says. his voice is barely a whisper. your eyes cloud with anger, "i've been trying to talk to you for the past hour. but all you've done is demean my feelings for the entire time, and you even had the audacity to compare me to your ex. do you know how hard it was for me to date you in the beginning?"

"i-i do," he sighs, "please, just listen to me. i'm sorry. reminding you of my ex was uncalled for. i won't do that ever again. it was an honest mistake, i swear."

"tetsurō," your voice cracks, "do you even know just how much you hurt me tonight?"

and he sees it. you break down. you stop acting like everything is okay, and your eyes finally let out tears in front of him. you had probably already cried in the bedroom as you packed your overnight bag, but here you were, sobbing as you tightly held onto his dress shirt, hands forming fists. his eyes soften, and he cradles your cheek with his hand, "i know saying 'sorry' isn't gonna be enough. but i really am sorry. i love you, and i can't lose you because i was an idiot and said shit i didn't mean."

he looks up, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes, "i'm sorry. please, just-"

you place your head on his chest, your forehead making contact with his clothed skin. he looks down, abruptly stopping as his hands reach the back of your head, caressing your hair. your cries are quieter than before, tuning down to mere sniffs, "you hurt me, tetsurō."

"i know," he says, nodding, "i shouldn't have said any of that."

"do you," you pause, as if to wonder if you should really say it out loud. to save yourself of the pain, maybe. but you keep going, "do you still think about her?"

kuroo cups your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes, "i'm gonna be honest with you. i found some old high school photos on my laptop today. it's the only reason i even thought of her."

you whimper against him. god, how he hates seeing you like this. he kisses the top of your head before reassuring you, "you don't have to worry about me thinking about anyone who's not you. i can assure you that literally everyone around me knows how much i love you."

you almost roll your eyes. he lets out a sad chuckle before continuing, "no, really. kenma gets annoyed by how much i talk about you sometimes. so do some of my co-workers. i was gonna ask you to come to the expo with me, and they were all going to complain about me to you."

a giggle escapes your lips as some tears fall. kuroo presses a kiss to your nose before whispering, "you don't know how much i love you. the words simply aren't enough. and i hate myself for making you think any less."

"tetsu," you let out a sound before wrapping your arms around him. he laughs, wiping a stray drop away from the corner of his eyes. kuroo lets out a strangled sigh, "you don't know how much it means to me that you're calling me that again."

"tetsu," you say again. he looks down to see you peering up at him, "i love you. please don't say anything dumb like that ever again."

"if i do, i give you full permission to throw concentrated hydrochloric acid into my eyes."

— OIKAWA TŌRU.

you were embarrassed by your fiancé today. again.

oikawa tōru was your high-school sweetheart. he was your first love, your everything. his smile made your heart skip a beat, his touch made you forget about the rest of the world, hs gaze made you think all your problems were tiny compared to your love.

until he had to leave, that is. that was probably one of the most strenuous parts of your relationship—life, maybe. he loved you too much to make you feel the pain of his absence, and you loved him too much to let him go without you. so what did you do? you applied to universities in argentina for your courses.

and you got in. the day you broke the news to him through a surprise party with your friends by your side, you saw him be the happiest boy on earth. his eyes went from the dullest brown to being as bright as the sun. his smile returned, and you embarked on a journey. together.

years flew by. you grew older, more mature and responsible. you had some ups and downs—one really bad argument happened back in college where the two of you took some time off and thought about everything you wanted from life. but then he showed up outside your friend's apartment(where you were staying then). it was raining heavily that night, his hair was slopping wet and sticking to his face. he was with someone during your time off, and he realized that everything that he wanted in life was you.

because it was you, who understood him. you, who supported his dreams. you, who he was so irrevocably in love with that he compared everyone else to you. the three-month break meant nothing. the words he had said during the argument meant nothing. he was yours; he was always going to be yours. ever since he met you at the park as a child trying to chase his toy car, he was yours. remember that time when the two of you had your first kiss while star gazing on the roof of your home? yeah, he still blushes while thinking about it.

you were bitter at first—that he'd gone to someone else after the two of you had taken a break. but with time, you understood that too. he couldn't ask for more.

but today irked you. the past two months irked you. you were grown-ups now. you had responsibilities. just as how oikawa was your responsibility, you were his. so why is it that, in the past two months, oikawa tōru stood you up on every single date the two of you had meticulously planned to fit into both of your schedules? all six of them.

"tōru," your voice is stern, "what part of 'you stood me up' don't you understand? even after i spent a week trying to plan tonight out? i get that your career is important but you spending extra hours at the gym practicing isn't work. it's you being stubborn."

"if i'm stubborn then you're a hypocrite," he retorts, "you pin the blame on me all the time. do you not remember how you kept postponing because of your dumb endless meetings? when i was the one that was free? when it wasn't volleyball season?"

"those dumb meetings are why i earn so much more than last year," you're firm as you pour yourself a glass of wine, "you're being childish, tōru. do you know how embarrassing it was for me? at the same restaurant where you've been abandoning me for the past few months? it's been six times where i've had dinner alone."

"oh, so i'm being childish?" he asks, in a mocking tone. his voice gradually getting louder, "i was at work, [y/n]. i had to work. because i have a game next week. what part of that is so complicated for you to understand?"

"what part of 'we planned this beforehand because you have a game next week and won't be free then' is not understandable for you?" you retort, sipping from your glass as you walk toward the living room. the hardwood floors feel nice against your feet, and just as you're about to sit down on the couch, you hear something you never thought you would.

"tch. yuri wasn't like this at all when i was with her."

the glass of wine in your hand almost falls, but you get a hold of your grip in time. the mature argument you thought you were having isn't 'mature' anymore. oh no, it's much more. you place the glass on the coffee table before looking at him with fury.

"excuse me?" your voice is much ruder than before, "the girl you pity fucked? the girl you were with for the three months when we weren't together? the girl you fucked, pretending that it was me? really, tōru?"

he flinches at your sudden change in tone. his lips are pressed in a straight line as he finally looks at you. your eyebrows knitted together in confusion and betrayal, your eyes covered with rage—but oikawa knows that there are tears behind the clouded anger, ready to spill at any given moment. you were an open book to him, but right now, you were building walls between the two of you that he wasn't sure he could break.

"i-i didn't mean that-"

"oh yeah?" you taunt, stepping a little closer, "what would you do if i went back to the one-night-stand i had when we took a break, huh? what then? do you want me to tell you he was better than you?"

he winces at the words. gosh, he doesn't remember the last time you lost your cool in this way. the last time you two had an argument as serious as this, was in college. both of you were childish back then. but now? you were the one who was trying to stay calm and talk it out, whilst he acted like a total buffoon.

"you know what?" you voice cracks, "screw this. screw you. i'm going over to a friend's. fuck whoever you want."

your footsteps are like pins pricking into his heart when you walk up the stairs of your home. the slam of your shared bedroom door makes him flinch, and his eyes close. when they open, he sees your degree hung up on the living room shelf where his trophies and medals sit.

fuck.

he remembers how he'd warned you that argentina would be nothing like japan. back when the two of you were just kids. back when you left your country and came here, just because he would be alongside you.

he still remembers the day you’d shown him your acceptance letter. you moved halfway across the world for him. you didn’t even bother applying to japanese schools because of him. you learned a whole another language for him. and what did he do in return? he told you that the two-and-a-half month fling he had was better than you.

he curses himself as he runs up the staircase. when he opens the door to your bedroom, he finally sees you. sitting at the edge of your side of the bed, clutching a bag as small sobs escape your lips. your ring sits prettily on the nightstand, staring back at him in horror. the ring that was always on you, that you never took off, was sitting somewhere that wasn’t your finger.

he walks up to you slowly. taking in a sharp breath, he kneels down in front of you. he takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against your skin. you choke back a sob as you ask, “what do you want now?”

“i’m sorry,” he voice is soft, “whatever i said down there was uncalled for. i was acting like a child. you shouldn’t have had to go through that. i’m pretty sure that one-night-stand you had would treat you better than how i’m doing at the moment.”

you chuckle before mumbling, “all i wanted was to spend time with you. we even planned it together because i didn’t wanna bother you with the upcoming season.”

god, how he wishes iwa-chan was here right now so he could get a beating. this is probably the first time he wanted to get beaten up by his best friend willingly.

“i know. i’m sorry. i love you, and i think i just,” he pauses, as if thinking of what to say. or confirming in his mind that it’s the right thing to tell you, “i think i said what i said because you weren’t agreeing with me. i got so used to you doing things for me that i took you for granted. and you didn’t deserve any of that. you deserve someone way better than me. hell, you studied your ass off in high-school so you could come to a whole new country just because of me. you did so much for me. i guess... i guess that got to my head a little. you love me so, so much and i’m so grateful. but [y/n], i proposed to you because i don’t think i can even breathe properly without you by my side. so call me selfish, but i still want you to stay. please don’t leave me because i was an arrogant idiot who said things he didn’t really mean.”

“i’m not going to leave you, tōru,” you murmur, “i’m not going anywhere just because we had a stupid argument. we’re both adults.”

“do you um,” he’s scared of completing his sentence because you might say yes, “still need to go over to your friend’s house? i can drop you if you’d like. i don’t want you driving while you’re feeling so low.”

“no, no,” you wipe away your stray tears with your other hand, still holding onto oikawa. you pause, pondering if you really want to say the words you’re thinking, “tōru?”

he hums.

“please don’t say anything like that ever again,” you look at your lap instead of his honey-brown eyes, “i don’t know what i’d do if you did.”

he understands what you mean. he gets it. he knows that you will leave if he repeats his mistake. because as complacent as you were, you still had a lot of respect for yourself.

“i promise.”

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

Text

thistle, part one

a/n: I'm posting the next part in a few days, so you won't have to wait too long to find out what happens next ♡

summary: “A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

warnings: James Potter x reader, royal au, prince!James, servant!reader (lady's maid), forbidden romance, secret relationship, historical au (beginning of the 1920s), references to WW1, surely extremely historically inaccurate but this is just for fun, lovesick!James, weapons, grief, death, smut, kissing, attending a ball, dancing, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cockwarming, oral

word count: 6148

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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series masterlist - next part

Marching up to the bespectacled man exiting the stables, his clothes all ruffled and dirtied from the ride he’d presumably just taken on this drizzly day, “excuse me, sir?” he slowed his trek at the sound of your soft voice, turning his head to look at you in surprise, “do you know the way to the servant's entrance? I seem to be a bit lost.”

“Um, yeah,” he blinked a second, taken aback by your question as he gave you a quick once over, “it’s just down that path,” he pointed towards the east side of the castle, “green door, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you,” you nodded, tightening your grip on your suitcase and began to move in that direction.

“Are you new here?” he asked swiftly, halting your movements.

“Kinda,” you said, “I’m the queen mother’s new lady’s maid.”

“Oh,” a genuine smile bloomed on his face, “I didn’t know grand-, I mean, her majesty Delilah was coming for a visit.”

“Well, I’d imagine you as, I presume, a groundskeeper,” you guessed, squinting your eyes at the helpful stranger in front of you, “isn’t exactly first on the list of people who need to be notified of such things.”

Choking out a small chuckle, neither confirming nor denying your guess, he simply glanced down at his muddy boots, “yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Looking back over your shoulder at the large castle looming over you, “I’m sorry, but I should really get going. Her majesty likes to freshen up quite a bit after a long trip such as this.”

“Oh, yeah,” he exhaled, clearly not ready to part ways yet, “you go take care of that, I’ll see you around.”

“See you!” you shouted over your shoulder as you made your way towards the discreet green door.

“That’s pretty,” a smoky voice from out of nowhere made you jump and promptly stop your soft humming, dropping the small bouquet of wildflowers you had picked but a moment ago. Turning to see who else could be out here in the forest, you spotted the helpful figure from the day before, leaning against a tree.

“Jesus! You gave me a fright!” a hand came up to clutch your chest.

“Sorry,” he smiled, shifting the bent hunting rifle that rested over his burly forearm.

“It’s fine, no harm done,” you exhaled slowly, “just need to make my heartbeat understand that as well…”

Watching as you momentarily bent down to pick the dropped flowers off the forest floor, “you out on a walk I presume?” he pushed off the tree and stepped closer.

“Yeah, well,” you rose back up, “the weather finally cleared up, so I thought a bit of fresh air might do me well,” you said, gliding one of your cold hands down into your coat pockets, “plus I’ve heard so much about the grounds here, I wanted to see them for myself.”

“They are quite something, aren’t they?” he smiled warmly down at you.

Feeling heat begin to rise in your cheeks from his unwavering glare, you coughed lightly and glanced down at the humble bouquet clutched in your grasp, “and, um, you’re-”

“Hunting,” he filled in before you could manage to finish your guess.

“Oh, am I getting in your way?” worry filled your voice, imagining that bullets could start flying over your head as soon as a bird flew by, “is it safe for me to be out here? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware-”

“Nah, you’re good,” he waved a reassuring hand, “I split up from the others a while ago and then when I heard you, I wandered even further away from the rest.”

“You followed me?” he noticed your eyes flicker down towards the weapon he was carrying.

“I-, oh god,” he winced, scrunching his expression up in regret and bowing his head, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I am a stranger to you with a deadly firearm, not a harmless bunny rabbit,” you could literally see the imaginary whip he was punishing himself with, “I’m sorry I scared you, I’ll just go-”

“No!” flew out your lips before you had a chance to think, “It’s fine, you can stay if you want.”

Gazing into your eyes a moment, he then exhaled, “thank you, miss.”

“Y/l/n,” you told him, “my name is Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Y/n,” the corners of his lips curled up as he tasted your name on his tongue.

“And your name?”

“James,” he said, then stressed, “just James.”

James… like the youngest of the two princes? You shouldn’t act too surprised; it was a common enough name after all.

“Can I ask you something?” he spoke as you wordlessly agreed to go for a stroll together among the birch trees.

“Sure.”

“How long have you been the queen mother’s lady’s maid? It’s just, I remember her previous one, the one she had before the war, and I feel like I would have noticed when you came along.”

“It’s been about 6 months now…” you answered rather sombrely.

“You don’t sound pleased about that.”

“No,” you glanced in his direction to underline your statement, “I love the job, don’t get me wrong, it’s just-,” you choked on the bitter fact and opted to say, “it’s complicated.”

“Is it too complicated for a man like me to comprehend?” he offered with a gentle smile.

Letting a low sigh flow out, you spoke, “that previous one you remember?” he nodded in confirmation, “that was my mom.” You tried to ignore how your bottom lip began to quiver, “she had me out of wedlock and later in her life, so not many people knew about me. But her majesty Delilah did. She’d always been very fond of my mother, so she let me grow up there at Cudworth palace. She-,” you let out a shaky breath, still finding it difficult to vocalize, “she became ill a few years back, so her majesty made the decision to let me inherit the position. Made sure I was set up for a good life, I guess… My mother trained me for as long as she could till I was nothing short of flawless. It’s been 6 months… 6 months with the job and 6 months without her…”

“Yes, I think the sapphires will do quite nicely for tonight,” Delilah purred as her weathered fingers brushed over the jewellery spread out in a presentational fashion on the vanity she sat at.

Wrapping a silver lock around your finger, you carefully pinned the last piece in place, securing her intricate updo. Glancing at the finished product in the reflection, you then agreed, “sapphire it is,” plucking the precious stones off the doily-clad table and gently adorning her earlobes with them.

“Beautiful work, dear,” Delilah gave your hand a small pat as you secured the last earring, momentarily catching your eye in the mirror.

The dragon lady. That’s what people called her. Though, through all of your life, the intimidating queen mother had been nothing but kind to you. It was clear that she had a soft spot for you, though you’d never dare to confirm that suspicion.

“Thank you, madam,” a soft smile quickly warmed up your features as you checked her hair one last time, “I hear the prime minister will be attending dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well, I guess I couldn’t avoid him forever. Hopefully, they won’t seat him beside me this time, it was so awfully boring last time, kept on talking about cricket.”

“Could always be sneaky and pretend that you can’t hear him,” you suggested with a sly grin.

“Wouldn’t that be something,” her crow's feet framed eyes glinted with a youthful mischievous glow.

Your shared giggle was interrupted as the door to her champers creaked open. Turning to look, you saw none than your helpful stranger.

“Grandma,” James simply sauntered in as if he owned the place, “I was wondering if you could-,” both his words and his brisk pace fell short as he spotted you, “oh, hi,” your presents promptly brought a fluttering smile to his lips.

Just as you were about to speak up, your eyes wide enough to burst at his audacity, Delilah bellowed, “good lord, James, it’s been enough time, you really must shred that army brashness and start entering a room the way you were raised to. This is not a war room, it’s the castle’s peacock suite!”

“Right,” he chuckled lightly, his eyes never staying on his grandmother for long before flickering back to you, “sorry granny.”

Why was the groundskeeper referring to the queen mother his grandmother? It couldn’t be because-

“Y/n,” Delilah turned in her comfortable chair, “I don’t think you’ve been acquainted. This is my dear James,” she presented with an outstretched arm, “the youngest of my two grandsons.”

Swiftly averting your flabbergasted gaze, you curtsied timidly and gasped, “your highness,” your terrified eyes darting across the Persian rug.

You’d only gotten to know the prince’s likeness through old paintings of him as a child. The battle-scared man standing before you now looked nothing like the bespeckled young royal captured in the portrait you’d passed countless times before.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you miss,” he smiled warmly, bowing his head slightly at you in return.

“Now,” Delilah reached for her cane and slowly pushed herself up to her feet, “what was it you needed?”

“Yeah, um,” he thought for a second, seeming awfully distracted, “it was-… I’m sorry, I completely forgot what it was.”

“Well, maybe you’ll recall during dinner, my boy,” she slowly moved towards the door, “shall we go down?”

“You go ahead,” James gesticulated, “I just need Y/n to send a message down to the kitchen for me. We wouldn’t want them to hold back on the wine now that prime minister Ferrell is joining us.”

“Oh, bless you,” Delilah grinned before disappearing out of the room, “that’s why you’re my favourite.”

Closing the heavy door behind the former monarch, James gently grabbed you by the elbow and guided you further into the room. Preparing yourself for the worst, you immediately promised, “I’ll go relay the message at once,” your head still bowed, not daring to look him in the eye.

“You don’t really have to, I already sent word down an hour ago. I simply said that to get a moment alone with you,” he lowered himself in an effort to catch your cautious gaze, “Y/n,” breathing out your name as if it weighed a ton, “would you please look at me?”

Only momentarily flickering your eyes up to meet his, you blurted out, “forgive me, your majesty, I swear I didn’t know,” your heartbeat was so strong you could hear it pounding in your ears, “I would have never spoken to you in that manner if I knew who you were!”

“Please do not apologise,” goosebumps bloomed on your skin as you felt his fingers briefly caress your arm, “I was so grateful that you didn’t just stiffen up like everyone else, you talked to me like any other man. So, for that, I thank you and beg you to please not change it now that you know.”

“What? I-I couldn’t do that! It isn’t proper, it isn’t right!”

“Why not? You did it before.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were a prince before.”

“A title that’s been true since the moment I was born, but there are also a few others that are just as real. I am a son, I am a brother, I am a soldier. I am still the exact same person you spoke to only yesterday. I haven’t changed one bit, so please don’t act like I have. Please, at least call me James.”

“Your majesty, I couldn’t.”

“Why not, Y/n? It’s just my name, it’s not gonna bite you, didn’t before and I promise it won’t start doing it now.”

“Thomas,” king Fleamont glanced up from his papers to address his eldest son, “we’ve invited a few eligible ladies for tonight. Please actually talk to them this time, don’t just sulk in the corner with your brother.”

“Christ,” James' brother groaned, “papa, I thought this ball was just a little get-together now that granny is in town. Must I truly have to be paraded around every chance there is?”

“If that’s what it takes for you to find a wife, yes,” his father said sternly, then returned his attention to the crisp newspaper.

Grumbling, Thomas slumped back, huffing beside his brother on the tufted couch, “let’s hope they at least push their tits up to the heavens above,” he muttered under his breath for only James’ ears to receive, “that might make it tolerable.”

Chuckling at his sibling’s pout, James then suggested, “since this is for grandmama, why don’t we extend the invitation to Y/n?”

Furrowing her brow over the small fluffy dog in her lap, Euphemia questioned her son’s bold idea, “who’s that?”

“Granny’s lady’s maid,” his words awoke a severe expression to all but one of his family member’s faces.

“Why that’s a wonderful idea, James!” Delilah cheered, “she does indeed deserve a bit of fun.”

Leaning in closer, Thomas hissed in his brother’s ear, “have you gone quite mad? A servant at a ball? Look at a calendar, brother, it isn’t December yet.”

“She isn’t that bad,” James defended, a storm quickly brewing in his chest, “plus, you know, granny’s not that young anymore, it might be a great help for her to be there as support. Just as a precaution.”

“But I have nothing to wear!” you protested, “I didn’t bring a gown, let alone own one.”

“I know you don’t,” Delilah said calmly, not taking any of your blubbering to heart, “that’s why I had a few maids go through an old trunk of mine that I never brought with me to Cudworth,” she snapped her finger at the butler in the corner as he swiftly presented the dusty box he was balancing, “you are gonna wear this,” the top slipped off and you caught sight of the most stunning lavender beaded gown you’d ever beheld in your entire life.

“Your Highness,” you marvelled at the way it sparkled in the low light, “I can’t wear that.”

“I know it’s not the latest fashion, but it’ll do a lot better than that frock you’ve got on now. I only remember wearing it once at a ball back in 1861.”

“I-…” you tried to protest, though nothing came out.

“Y/n, this is not a proposition, you are gonna wear that gown and that is final.”

“God, this soiree is even more ghastly than the last one,” Thomas glanced back over at the cluster of young women fanning themselves and batting their luscious eyelashes at the eligible heir, “you think people would notice if we sneaked off?”

Ever thankful that he didn’t receive the same level of unyielding attention, James cocked his brow at the man half-heartedly attempting to hide behind him, “I don’t think that’s an option, brother,” then snatched up two tall flutes of stary bubbles and handed one off, “here, have another glass of champagne.”

“Thanks, but I’m gonna need a lot more in order to survive the 12 dances I've been swindled into later tonight,” he pouted and took a large gulp. Just then, as the crown prince swallowed down the stinging carbonated beverage, he caught sight of the figure that appeared at the top of the wide staircase. “Wait,” he elbowed his brother, ushering him to glance in that direction, “who’s that?”

Recognising you immediately as you timidly ascended the grand steps, clutching onto the side of your lilac dress, lifting it off the tile so as to not have to trip over it, James uttered through his growing smile, “that’s Y/n,” and nothing whatsoever could stop his unwavering gaze.

“Really?” he scoffed, “that’s the scullery maid?”

“That’s her…” James replied dreamily.

“I gotta admit, in that dress, you could almost mistake her for a real princess.”

“Yeah…” James uttered softly, not hearing a word of what he had just agreed with. “Hold this, will you?” without looking, he handed his glass off to his brother and left his post as the crown prince's unofficial shield.

“James!” Thomas hissed, standing there in alarm, one glass in each hand, not sure if he should follow or not, “where are you going? Don’t leave me alone! I’ll be swallowed whole!”

Catching sight of James’ determined approach, you let out a deep and shaky exhale.

“Y/n!” he smiled, coming to a jovial stop right in front of you, ignoring every merry man trying to catch his high-regarded attention.

“Your highness-” you started, but his voice cut in, breaking your greeting in half.

“James,” he corrected you, the glint in his eye promptly sending a shiver down your corseted spine.

“Good evening.”

“I hope it’s not too forward of me for saying this, but you look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

Your breath got caught in your throat as you blushed over his honeyed words, “thank you, your highness. Though I wouldn’t dare take any of the credit, this was all your grandmother’s doing. This is actually one of her old dresses,” you glanced down at the elegant gown, carefully playing with the skirt and presenting it.

Looking over the fabric just as you did, his earnest words nearly didn’t catch your ears, “I wasn’t complimenting your dress…”

Blinking up into his warm eyes, you found yourself speechless, clueless of how to respond to such flattery by someone of his stature.

“Would you care for a dance?” he asked unexpectedly, evidently not caring about the improper nature of the request, and looking at you as if you were the only person in the entire ballroom.

“That’s very kind of you, your majesty, but I’m afraid I would just embarrass you,” you averted your gaze, “you see, I don’t know how.”

Briefly glancing back at his parents, checking to see if they were watching, James then grabbed your hand, it seeming so small and dainty in his, and uttered, “come with me,” discreetly guiding you out into one of the vacant side chambers.

Following his lead, looking back over your shoulder in fear that someone might notice, it calmed you ever so slightly to see that everyone else was entirely enraptured by the dazzling event.

Shutting the door behind you, his hand still holding yours, he gently turned you around to face him once more. Hearing the string quartet still loud and clear through the walls, the prince smiled, “so, miss Y/l/n,” asking you once more, now in a more private setting, “may I have the honour of this dance?”

Lifting the back of your hand up to give it a small peck, eye contact never wavering, you answered, “the honour would be mine,” blinking up at him through your lashes, “yes, yes you may.”

“Okay, so you just put your left hand right here,” he grabbed it and slid it up, past the many shiny medals adorning his chest, to rest upon his broad shoulder, “and keep the right one where it is,” you inhaled sharply as you felt his free palm slide into place on your waist.

“A-alright,” all the hairs on your body stood up at the intimate proximity, “and now?”

Your right hand entirely engulfed in his, he glided his thumb over it, delicately swiping over a few of your fingers, “now you just let me lead,” noticing how your jaw clenched, he reassured you, “don’t worry, love, it’s easy,” you felt your tense muscles begin to relax a bit at his deep soothing tone, “I’ll do all the hard work, you just trust me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you offered him a small nod as he gently began to move, taking you with him as he fell into the song’s rhythm as if it was second nature to him.

Simply swaying softly at first, it didn’t take long before he had you flowing to the music, slowly making your way deeper into the room, dancing further away from the lines of light the closed door cast.

When you eventually felt him gain more confidence and move your body around freely, you followed the instinctual reflex to briefly glance down at your shoes. Feeling his hand let go of your waist momentarily, he whispered, “don't look at your feet,” and lifted your chin up so you could meet his gaze, “look right here.”

Letting his finger drop back down into place, you felt his palm move and slide around to your lower back, drawing you in just a little bit closer. Feeling yourself disappear into the warm eyes veiled behind his spectacles, completely enraptured by his being and entranced by the way he moved you, you felt his hitched breath hit your skin as he leaned in close enough for your lips to graze against each other.

But just as your eyelids fluttered close in anticipation of his eventual touch, the sound of the door, now a good ways away, creaking open halted your dance at once.

“James?” you heard the crown prince call out, music now more vibrant as it didn’t have to travel through walls anymore to reach your ears, “you in here?”

Acting quickly, James pulled you around the corner and settled you into the little alcove there, pushing you up against the plate mail stature decorating the small corner and cloaking your figure with his own. His bulky frame swallowed nearly all of the starry light streaming in from the tall windows scattered around the chamber, causing you to be able to see him and only him.

“Seriously brother, you have to get out here before pa realises that you’re gone!”

Disregarding his sibling’s warning, James stood his ground, completely enraptured and sharing your breath as he pressed himself up against your voluminous gown. You weren’t sure if it was because of the proximity or if your fingers simply followed the magnet calling them, but you found yourself pressing your palms against the silky fabric of his detailed jacket, feeling his taught abdomen expand with every shaky breath.

Dilated pupils flickering down towards your lips, you found your own mirroring his, fearing that you might faint in the intensity of it all.

His lips pressed against yours before you even had the chance to fathom that it was actually happening. The prince was kissing you. His lips were brushing against yours not in curiosity, but in genuine yearning.

“Come on James, stop messing around, I know you’re in here!”

A small string of saliva followed as James reluctantly pulled back, thumbs brushing over each one of your cheeks as he stared deeply down into your hazy eyes.

“Come to my room at midnight,” he whispered breathlessly, restraining himself to dive back in.

“Your highness, I-”

“Please,” he interrupted desperately.

You didn’t give yourself another moment to think before giving him an answer, being completely spellbound, you uttered, “yes.”

And with a bright smile, he let go of you and backed away, still staring as you had to reach out for support against the wall in order to not tumble back against the ornamental armor.

“Just hold your horses, Thomas,” he called out to his frantic brother, eyes still locked with yours, “I’m coming!”

Hearing the rapid beating of your heart thumping in your ears, you let out a shaky breath. It took you a long moment to finally mustered up the courage and let your fist come into contact with the prince’s door.

Almost instantaneously was it ripped open as if James’ fingers themselves had already been mere inches from the silver knob, impatiently lying in wait like a lion on the hunt, the action was so swift that it startled you.

Face lighting up as he saw you, nervously standing outside his chambers, he promptly grabbed onto your wrist and pulled you inside.

As the door shut behind you, “h-hi,” you offered him a meek smile and stood in the dim room as if it was a china shop.

Elatedly biting down on his plump bottom lip, he echoed, “hi,” sliding his fingers down to weave through your own. Using the hold as leverage, he gently pulled you in closer, his other palm ready to catch your cheek before confidently pressing his lips against yours.

When he momentarily pulled away, you squeaked, “your majesty-,” hindering him from taking your lips once more.

“James,” he corrected you breathily, keeping his eyes shut and nuzzling his nose lightly against yours.

“James…” you tried to keep your head levelled, “what am I doing here?”

“What do you mean? Do you not want to be here?” he took the hand still enveloped in his and pressed it against his chest, “here, with me?”

“I…” this was wrong. The list of punishable things to stray away from in your line of work was extensive, but this one was certainly at the top, “James…”

“Christ, that sounds good coming from your lips,” he groaned, seizing your lips again and flexing his fingers on the side of your head, lightly messing up your primly pinned hair.

Feeling yourself melt under his touch, the kisses began to wander, scattering down your goosebump-ridden neck.

“We…” your breathing was heavy and ragged, “we can’t… What if someone finds out?”

Pulling back, he gently shook his head, “they won’t,” dark eyes boring into your very soul.

“But I can’t-… Y-you’re-…”

“I?”

“You are-…”

“I am just me… Just James,” he stared down at you, begging you to stay.

“But-”

“I am yours,” he promised you earnestly, a hint of fear glinting in his golden eyes, “I am all yours.”

Choking down a sob, you then found yourself pulling him down for another kiss, letting his overwhelming vow sink in and dim that warning light pleading you not to venture any further.

Soon clawing at the silky fabric of his jacket, your fingers caught in the two rows of shiny buttons, restraining yourself from just ripping them clean off. Letting out a quiet whimper as James suddenly detached from you, taking a step back, gazing down at your heaving form, not giving in as you reached out for him to return.

Eyes fixed, his own fingers slowly found the buttons along his torso and began to undo them. Tilting his chin up, he watched you closely as he carefully unveiled every inch of himself to you. Moving your fingers up to mirror his actions, he swiftly spoke up, “wait, let me do it,” stopping you before you’d truly begun, “please.”

The wish made you suck in a breath in anticipation, slowly lowering your hands back down to either side of your skirt, clutching onto the heavy lavender fabric for support as you gave him a small nod.

For a moment, you thought he was gonna bear it all to you right then and there, perhaps he did as well, but his fingers stilled right at the waistband of his underwear when only they remained. Blinking sluggishly as you tried to take in his breathtaking visage, in what felt like a millisecond, James had moved to be back into your proximity. Walking around to stand behind you, his fingers then began to work at the numerous buttons and laces, freeing you of the unusually extravagant ensemble.

You hadn’t even noticed how you’d stopped breathing till his lips pressed against your exposed shoulder and let the first layer fall.

Little by little, the weight you carried was lightened as he tossed more and more fabric to the cold floor, creating quite the poofy puddle. When the corset fell off, James quickly replaced the stiff restraining item with his large warm palms, feeling your waist through the last thin layer remaining, inhaling deeply against the back of your neck.

Gently turning you around, he slid his hands up your sides, promptly lifting your arms to stay above your head. Not dropping his eyes from yours, he glided fingers down to gather up the material of your delicate chemise, only lifting it over your head when the whole length of it was bunched up in his fists.

Not being able to wait any longer, you let your arms fall, draping them around his broad shoulders and pressing your bare body up against his, the palpable tent in his briefs twitching against your stomach at the contact.

Kissing him deeply, you nearly didn’t register when he scooped you up into his arms, the action seeming so effortless for the prince. Thighs enveloping his hips, it was first your heel that attempted to rid him of his last remaining clothes, though when it only worked to push them an inch off his hips, you impatiently dropped a hand down to yank them down the rest of the way, letting him step out of them as his slow stride closed in on the plush bed on the opposite side of the chamber.

Feeling the bedframe soon halt his footsteps, your lips didn’t fall from his as he leisurely turned and planted himself on the mattress, taking you with him still securely wedged against his body.

With his hands already rooted on your rear end, now that he no longer needed to carry you, they started to explore your body, palming at every pillowy curve within his reach. It only took one measly little rock of your hips against his thighs for him to needily yank you forward, landing your sobbing centre directly on top of his hard length.

“Your highne-, James,” you whimpered, the intoxicating contact making you detach from his lips and hide your blushing cheeks in his sturdy shoulder, still reciprocating his forward actions and sliding your dripping heat all along his throbbing length.

“Please, let me have you,” he groaned into your hair, his hot breath blowing back some of the unravelled hair framing your face, “let me feel your warmth,” he pressed a palm on the small of your back, making you arch it and causing all of the delicious pressure to always be directly on your buzzing little pearl, “just let me in, love,” his fingers caressed your spine as you moaned against his neck, bucking desperately against his hardness, “let me have you, let me have all of you just like you have me.”

Reaching down between your bodies, you grasped onto James’ cock and lifted up your trembling thighs, though his large palms swiftly scooped under you, granting you some more security as you swept the bulbous tip through your folds, parting the wet petals over and over again till your quivering hole was screaming for attention. And then, still with your face buried in the crook of his neck, you sank down, eyes rolling back in your skull as your creamy pussy slowly swallowed all of his length.

“Fuck,” James cursed, his chest rapidly rising and falling underneath you.

Clinging onto him for dear life, you slowly began to ride him, shakily bouncing in his lap. Lewd squelching noises reverberated off the palace walls as he let you find your rhythm, eventually finding a slow but intense pace, first raising yourself nearly completely off, till just the memory of his girth remained, and then slamming your hips down against his own so hard that it actually made you see stars with how deep he got.

“Let me see that beautiful face of yours,” you felt his fingers come to rest on each side, in no way attempting to force your head back, simply pleading with you sweetly with every gentle sweep of his thumbs against your cheeks. Your hips faltered as you timidly crawled out of your hiding spot and blinked your heavy lids at him.

The shyness eventually melted away as you registered the adoring look in his eye. Gradually resuming your hips moments, you watched as his head tilted back ever so slightly in pleasure and gaze down at you through his lashes, “there you go, darling,” you let out a loud moan as you felt his palm accompany his praise, swiftly landing it upon your bottom, encouraging your bouncing and causing you to get back on track that much faster.

Rapidly nearing the end now that his soulful eyes were locked with yours, you found yourself completely lost in the euphoric feeling, eventually welcoming James’ desperate aid as he dug his fingers into your hips and rocked you in his lap, essentially just using your body as he would with his own fist at night, lifting you off with such ease and fucking into you till you were both absolutely wrecked by the perfectly synched orgasms that rocked your realities. Though still, even as the pace slowed, he still kept on bouncing you in his lap, pushing his load deeper within you with every needy thrust.

Breathlessly, both of you still completely enveloped in each other, your arms sluggishly draped around his neck and his wrapped around your sweaty body, keeping you pressed up against him.

Slowly blinking his eyes open and staring back at you through his glasses, which had long ago glided so far down his long nose that they were now on the verge of falling off, he sighed contently and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Promise that you’ll write to me,” he whispered, his deep rumble making your sensitive body tingle and your walls clamper down on his softening girth.

First giving his nose a light nudge with yours, you then brushed your lips against his, rapidly developing the innocent peck into a kiss so passionate that the time might as well have stopped.

“I will,” you breathed, feeling the most blissful of tears roll down your cheek, “I promise.”

“Y-your majesty!” you gasped, throwing your head back in ecstasy, nearly bumping your head against the doorframe you were balancing against.

Detaching his lips from your swollen clit with a pop, he glanced up at you from his kneeling position and corrected, “James…” chuckling lightly as his fingers still clutched onto your dark skirt, bunching it up at your waist, “love, it’s been a whole year, thought you’d shake that habit by now.”

“Has it truly been a year already?” a shaky breath escaped your throat as he planted a kiss on your gleaming petals that was way too soft for how close he had you to the edge.

“Happiest year of my life…” he beamed, right before diving back in, eating you out so as if someone could walk in and interrupt your fun at any moment, which was completely probable seeing as he hadn't waited for you to be behind closed doors for him to have a taste, simply whirled you around a corner and told you to be on lookout while he had his fun.

“Fuck!” you weaved your fingers through his hair in an effort to keep him steady as the fireworks set off inside your belly, “James, I’m gonna-, don’t stop!”

Bucking against his tongue as he stared up at your pleasure-filled face in awe, his mouth eventually eased into light pecks, loving the way your sensitive form jumped against his lips. Eventually rising back up to his feet, he pressed his slick-covered lips against yours and let your dress fall back down, covering the mess he had made.

“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, lifting his thumb up to clean the glistening lower half of his face, swiping the finger over his chin only to bring it back up to his pillowy lips, licking the rest of your essence off and enjoying every last drop you’d given him.

“…It was an automobile accident…”

“W-what?” James uttered breathlessly, haven not heard a word of what his father had said after the bomb had been dropped.

Tightening his jaw in an effort to control his own unbearable emotions, the severe king repeated, keeping his voice clear and stern, “your brother, crown prince Thomas, died last night. The authorities found him this morning a few hours away from here, in his car, which had crashed, tumbled over completely. I don’t know how long he was out there, trapped beneath an entire ton of metal, waiting it out, all alone… I-…” he let out a shaky breath, momentarily closing his eyes in order to centre himself, “the funeral will be held on Monday. That should give people a chance to get here in time.”

“Monday…” James’ unfocused eyes flicked around the room as he tried and failed to breathe in a world without his big brother, “granny will be able to get here in that time… that’s-…” he noticed how his glasses were now completely fogged up by his agonising tears, “she-, she should be here…”

“My dear boy, you know what this means, right?” he exhaled, trying to catch his son’s glistening eyes, “as of last night your life will never be the same. It’s time for you to step up as the next rightful heir to the crown.”

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avastrasposts · 11 months

Text

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 14

I'm sorry. Please feel free to yell at me.

Warnings Contain spoilers

Word count: 5.7k Chapter 15

You start pulling on your clothes as you come back from the bathroom, Frankie is already wrapped up in the bed sheets, half asleep as he pries open an eye to look at you.

“I was thinking we should maybe not both sleep at the same time,” you say, reaching down for your boots. Frankie loses his sleepy look almost immediately and shoots up in bed, but you’re already holding your palm up to him.

“I’m taking the first watch, Frankie, no arguments. You didn’t sleep last night, I did, albeit behind the couch, but still. You need to sleep because to be frank, we’re gonna need you alert tomorrow more than me.”

“Cariño…” he starts to protest but you physically push him down onto the bed with your hands on his shoulders, and he lets you topple him over.

“Sleep, Frankie, I’m going to be outside the door, you’ll hear me shout if anything happens.”

He looks up at you, trying to find an argument for taking the whole watch himself, but his brain is scrambled by adrenaline and sleep deprivation. The post-orgasm hormones don’t help either.

“Leave the door open, wake me at three,” is all he manages before you kiss his lips and stroke his cheek, you swear he’s already asleep by the time you leave the room.

Staying awake was harder than you thought, sitting on one of the bar stools by the kitchen counter stops you from dozing off, but you still feel like your jaw is going to pop as you yawn widely. Your gun is on the counter in front of you as you study the ring Frankie slipped onto your finger. The delicate gold band is thin, three simple diamonds set in a row, with room, you notice, for more diamonds along the band. You know Frankie isn’t the kind of guy to spend three months pay on a ring just so that it’s as big as possible, he would pick the ring that meant something to him and make it mean something to you too. You run your fingers over the diamonds, three in a row, you’ll have to ask him tomorrow.

At three am you gently walk into the bedroom to wake Frankie, but he sleeps too lightly, your footsteps wake him up and he shoots up in bed.

“It’s ok, Frankie,” you say in a low voice, “It’s three am.”

“Ok,” he rumbles, his voice rough with sleep as he rubs the heel of his hand into his eyes. You pull off your boots and crawl into bed with your clothes on next to Frankie. He catches your chin between his thumb and fingers, giving you a slow kiss, before letting go.

When you wake up a few hours later daylight is starting to slip through the shutters of the window. Frankie’s hand is on your shoulder, gently shaking you.

“Hermosa, time to wake up,” he murmurs as he bends and presses his lips to your temple. “The night was quiet and I made coffee.”

“Thank you,” you mumble and push the covers back, sitting up as Frankie hands you a mug.

You drink it while you get ready, which only means you put your boots back on and stick the gun into the back of your trousers. Frankie’s heated up another can of stew from Denny’s supplies and you both eat it in silence. You’re apprehensive about leaving the safety and quiet of the cabin and move back into populated areas, but you can see Frankie’s nerves too. His jaw is clenched as he goes through both your packs, swapping out some of the food for Denny’s supplies. As soon as you put down your spoon into the empty bowl he grabs it from you and starts readying up to leave.

“We should leave a note for Pope or anyone else who comes here,” you say and Frankie nods.

“Yeah, I did already,” he points to a folded piece of paper on the dining room table, “Read it and tell me if it makes sense.”

You pick it up and flip it open, reading Frankie’s neat handwriting;

September 29th

To anyone of the guys

My girl and I are safe up here for now. We’re heading to L’s place today. Pope was here on the 27th, also went for L but hasn’t returned yet.

We’ll return here when we have L, hope to see you all safe.

Catfish

You fold it up and put it back on the table, “Looks good to me, I really hope they’re all here when we get back,” you say, looking over at Frankie who’s picked up your backpack and walked over to you with it.

“Yeah, I really hope so too,” he replies as he helps you on with the pack, turning you around and adjusting the straps before he pulls your gun from behind your back.

“I made you this while I was keeping watch,” he holds up a makeshift leg holster. “You can’t wear a regular holster with a backpack on and you won’t be able to get the gun from behind the pack, and I don’t want you walking around with the gun in your hand.”

He kneels down and straps it to your thigh, using a snap-link to attach it to your belt. “Denny had a couple of old holsters for his hunting gear so I repurposed them.” He’s got a similar holster on his leg, his gun already in it and now he slides your gun into yours.

“Feel good?” he asks, looking up at you from the floor, tugging on the holster, making sure it’s not too tight.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how much use I’ll be, Frankie, I’ve never even fired a gun.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to but I can’t show you, I don’t know when we’ll get more bullets,” he gets up and gives your backpack a final look over, “Denny didn’t keep any guns or ammo up here so we’ll have to grab any that we find.”

Once outside the cabin, Frankie locks up and puts the key back into the lock box before turning towards the lake.

“There are a couple of canoes down by the small boat house,” he says, “we can use one of them to get across the lake, saves us walking around it, we’re heading in that direction.”

You nod and follow him down the gentle slope to the lake, the morning is calm and quiet, and again you’re struck by how normal everything feels. If it wasn’t for the slightly heavy feeling in your stomach, a small hot ball of anxiety, you’d think it was just Frankie and you heading out for a couple of days camping.

The trip over the lake is smooth and when you get to the other side, about a mile from the cabin, you get the packs out before Frankie paddles the canoe into some thick, tall reeds to camouflage it as much as possible. Luckily it’s an old wood canoe and it all but disappears into the reeds.

Frankie glances down at his compass, attached to his belt, and motion for you to follow him. You’ve agreed to speak as little as possible and move quietly. There probably won’t be any infected out here but Frankie doesn’t want to take any chances. So in silence you walk behind him for three hours, stopping when he holds up his hand, checking his direction or listening intently. At one point he signals for you to stop and crouch and as you sink down behind a bush, you hear rustling in the shrubs ahead. Your skin goes cold as you mimic Frankie’s movement and pull out your gun, moving it slowly out of your leg holster. The rustling continues, coming closer until, finally, you see the source of the sound, a white tail deer, slowly ambling through the forest, nibbling at leaves here and there as it goes. You let your breath out slowly, as Frankie stands up, startling the deer enough to make it prance away into the underbrush.

At the three hour mark Frankie finds a good spot for a break, a small stream that lets you refill your water bottles. Stretching out your legs on the ground, your back against a large boulder, you try to savor your lunch sandwich. Frankie sinks down next to you and gives you a little nudge with his shoulder.

“How you holding up, cariño?” he asks in a low voice.

“I’m alright, just jumpy,” you reply, leaning your head on his solid shoulder for a little bit. He caresses your cheek with his warm palm and you feel his lips press into the top of your head before he begins to unwrap his sandwich.

After lunch you get even jumpier, you’re still following hiking trails through the forest but every now and then you have to cross main roads, you start seeing houses, you even skirt around a small town. In the distance you see a group of people, you can’t tell if they’re infected or not, but as Frankie leads the two of you in a wide circle around the group, you keep watching them. They don’t move and you think they’re too unnaturally still for humans.

Just as you’ve managed to clear a small ridge and put some distance between yourself and them, a loud collective shriek goes up from the group of people. Frankie immediately grabs you and pulls you down into the tall grass next to the trail. It feels like your heart is going to claw itself out of your chest as you feel Frankie’s weight on top of you, he’s half covered you with his body. You glance up at his face and you see him carefully lift his head out of the tall grass.

“It’s ok, they’re running, but in the other direction,” he whispers and pulls you up. In a crouch Frankie starts to jog down the other side of the ridge, holding on to your hand as you run to keep up with him. You continue running until your lungs are about to give up and Frankie slows down but starts walking next to you, keeping a brutal pace, still holding onto your hand.

“We need to get away from them as fast as possible, we can’t fight that many on foot,” he pants, giving your hand another squeeze.

Not until you’ve covered about three miles does he slow down to a regular pace, you’re drenched in sweat and breathing hard, your legs aching. He pulls you off the side of the trail you’ve been following, into the forest and behind a thick shrub.

“Sit down,” he motions, pointing to the ground, “catch your breath and drink some water.”

You gratefully sink down and pull out your water bottle while Frankie remains standing.

“We’re about half a mile from the bridge and the river crossing,” he says, looking at the map. “We need to be extra careful as we approach, if people in this area were trying to get away from any towns they’d probably have to cross there which means a potential traffic jam and potentially infected.”

You nod and sip the water, offering Frankie your bottle when you’re done. He gratefully takes a long swig while you get back to your feet. You’re still exhausted after the sprint but you want to keep moving. The countryside around you makes you nervous, there are small farms dotted across it, three days ago you would’ve thought it looked quaint and rural, now the sight of every farm house makes you edgy.

Putting away your water bottle, you follow Frankie back to the trail and after a short time it emerges from the forest onto a large country road, up ahead you can see the bridge. As Frankie had feared, it’s jammed with cars. You can walk between them, but the thought of what might be hiding among them makes panic claw its way up your throat and you take a tight hold of Frankie’s hand. He looks back and sees the fear in your eyes. Pulling you back into the trees he wraps his arms around you. Holding you tight to his chest for a minute, he pulls back and cups your cheeks, his large hands are warm and dry on your skin, as he kisses you deeply before he looks down at you and traces his fingers over your lips.

“I’m sorry, cariño, it’s the only way forward.” His eyes rake over your face as if he’s committing it to memory and you suddenly realize what he’s doing.

“Don’t say goodbye, Frankie,” you croak, your voice catching in your throat.

“Just in case, mi amor,” he says in a low voice, pressing his lips to yours again. When he pulls back he turns and takes your hand, leading you back to the road where he lets go of it.

“Stay six feet behind me, gun out, safety off, but keep it pointed to the ground. If you have to fire, squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it.” He gives you a final look, a small smile, before turning back to the road.

It’s slow going, following Frankie’s lead you move carefully in his footsteps, trying to make as little noise as possible. Frankie stops and surveys the cars in front of you regularly but nothing seems out of the ordinary, you see no humans, only open car doors, luggage that’s been left behind.

As you’ve crossed about two thirds of the bridge a dog suddenly launches itself at the cage door keeping it shut in, barking loudly from inside a large SUV. Frankie and you both drop into a crouch, trying to see if the loud noise will draw in any infected, but the dog quietens down and the landscape around the bridge remains silent. You breathe a sigh of relief as Frankie carefully stands up again and motions for you to follow him. He carefully approaches the dog in the cage, a golden retriever you think, mumbling soft words to it, calming it down. Soon the dog is licking his fingers through the bars of the cage and Frankie slides back the lock, opening the door. The dog jumps down, its tail happily wagging as you scratch its ears.

“Good boy,” you mumble, patting its flank as Frankie starts moving forward again. You give the dog a final scratch before you follow him towards the end of the bridge. The dog trails behind you for a while before it falls behind, going back to the SUV.

As you get to the end of the bridge Frankie holds his hand up, signaling for you to stop. He points to the last pillar of the bridge, written on it, in what looks like black magic marker, are the letters SOF, underneath is a rectangle with a single line through the middle and the number 1 just outside the box.

“Special Operations Force,” Frankie says, “Pope’s been through here but he’s alone. The rectangle means he’s motorized.” He walks over to the pillar, pulling a marker from his side pocket and crouching down he writes SOF underneath Pope’s message, but he adds an odd looking cross underneath, two sides are flat and two are rounded. Then he writes ‘2’ next to it.

“Special Operations Aviation,” he explains while he stands up and puts the marker away. “I don’t think any of the other guys will come past here but if Pope comes back the same way he’ll see that we’ve been here.”

You continue down the road, it’s still about an hour's walk to Lucía’s house and you’re forced to stay on the road, there are no hiking trails leading in the right direction. Frankie’s head is on a swivel, his gun drawn as you both walk off to the side of the road, creating some distance between yourselves and the cars. There are less of them now, and up ahead you can see an almost clear road. You crest a hill in the road, carefully trying to see over to the other side before you’re too exposed, when a pickup truck just ahead rumbles to life and barrels towards you with a screech of tires. Frankie grabs your hand and pulls you behind one of the few cars on the road, his gun aimed at the truck. “They’ve got to be ok, right Frankie?” you say, his hand still holding you down behind the car. “Infected can’t drive!”

“Stay down, cariño,” he snaps, his eyes focused on the truck. You hear it come to a stop and the engine goes silent as the doors are opened. Frankie lets go of you and grabs his gun with both hands. You turn and peek over the bonnet of the car and see two men get out, staying behind the doors of the truck, as another two jump down from the flatbed.

“You know how to use that gun, sonny?” the oldest man calls from behind the driver’s door. He’s big and burly looking, a cowboy hat squashed down on a very round head.

“Sure,” Frankie calls back, shifting his stance.

“Why don’t you lower it and toss it over here. And any gun your cute girl might be carrying.” The man’s voice is saccharine and makes your neck hairs stand on end, you glance up at Frankie and see the muscle in his jaw working.

“We’re just passing through, trying to get to some friends, we don’t want any trouble.”

“Then why you pointing a gun at me, son?” The older man looks over his shoulder and nods at the two men who got off the truck and they slowly move to the sides, circling the two of you.

“Cariño, get your gun up and stand behind me, aim at the man on the left,” Frankie says in a low voice, his eyes never leaving the older man. You do as he says, trying to have a steady grip on the gun to keep your hands from shaking. Copying Frankie’s stance, you hold your gun in both hands, your feet apart and steady, aiming at the man on the left. With a thumb you flick the safety off and draw a deep breath.

“Steady there, girlie,” the old man drawls, as he sees you move, holding up a hand to stop the two men. “Son, you don’t want to do anything stupid and get your girl in trouble here.” He moves out from behind the car door, and from the corner of your eye you see the rifle he’s holding low in his hands. “We’re just out here making sure no one’s looting these cars, especially of any guns they might find.”

“These guns are mine, like I said, we’re just passing through.” Frankie calls back through gritted teeth. You can hear the sharp tone in his voice as his eyes flick from the man in the cowboy hat and the man still standing behind the passenger side door.

“You’re outnumbered, pal,” the man on the right calls out with a chuckle, “just hand over the guns and any supplies, and we’ll let you pass.”

“Might keep your girl though,” the man on your left drawls, the man you’ve got your gun aimed at, he’s eyeing you with a smirk on his face that makes your skin crawl. “She’s shaking like a leaf but I bet she’d put up a nice little fight.”

Frankie glances over at the man on the left, before he looks back at the man in the cowboy hat, he’s got a crooked smile on his lips as he shoulders the rifle.

“C’mon, sonny, the guns and the girl, and then you can walk away.”

Frankie’s gun is loud on the silent road, and the man in the cowboy hat crumples over, his shot going wide as the rifle hits the ground. The man on the left throws himself forward and you feel the recoil in your arms as you fire, you don’t even know if your bullets hit, you can hear several shots from Frankie’s gun and your own, and Frankie’s hand on your shoulder as he pushes you to the ground. Two more shots ring out and Frankie ducks behind the car, his gun raised, listening. When nothing stirs he quickly glances over the bonnet before he stands up. Three of the men are dead on the ground, the fourth one, the one behind the passenger door, is scrabbling for something and with a few long steps, Frankie is on him, kicking the gun out of his reach.

He’s on the ground, you can see him beneath the door, Frankie towering above him, his gun aimed at the man. As you watch, the man lifts his palms up, pleading, but the shot rings out and the man slumps back. Frankie bends down and picks up the man’s gun, quickly patting him down and fishing an ammo box from his pants. When he straightens up and walks back towards you his face is impassive, blank and you remember when you last saw that look; the bar that night you thought Frankie was a violent man. Now you know, he is violent, but only when he needs to and for now, you’re very grateful for his skills.

You put your hands out to push yourself off the ground and a burning pain shoots through your shoulder, wincing you get to your feet and look at your torn shirt. Blood is seeping through and you suddenly feel faint. Frankie is on you in two fast steps, grabbing your arm and pulling back your shirt.

“You’re hit,” his voice suddenly sharp with worry, as his gentle fingers push at the fabric, making you wince again. He unbuttons your shirt and pulls it over your shoulder. “Thank god,” he breathes out as he sees the shallow gash, “you’ve been grazed, it didn’t go in.” He pulls up his arm as if he’s about to pull his backpack off but changes his mind.

“Come here, get in the truck,” he guides you over to the passenger side, “close your eyes, don’t look,” he mumbles as you have to step over the corpse. You breathe in deeply and keep your eyes closed until Frankie closes the door. He bends down to pick up the other man’s rifle, putting it behind the bench seat, before he gets in and starts up the engine. It rumbles to life and Frankie turns it around, heading back down the almost empty road, and as soon as he sees a secluded spot he pulls over and kills the engine.

“I’ve got to clean your arm, cariño,” says, opening up his backpack for the first aid kit. “Does it hurt?” He looks over at you, his eyes are worried and you shake your head to calm him.

“Only a little, it stings more than anything.”

“Ok, just keep breathing in and out while I do this.”

The iodine solution makes you whimper but Frankie is fast and efficient, when the compress is on your shoulder the pain is already subsiding. He pulls your shirt back on, gives you a soft kiss, cradling the back of your head with his large hand.

“You ok?” he asks in a low voice, “not just the injury, with what just happened too?”

You let out a shuddering breath as you allow yourself to think about the situation, “I’m very glad you used to be a soldier, Frankie,” you say, leaning your forehead against his, “I think that’s the fourth time you’ve saved my life in twenty four hours.”

“Me too,” he breathes, his thumb is caressing your cheek as he looks at you. His deep brown eyes are strained, but calm, “Things are going to get worse before they get better, cariño. I’ve seen it before, when society crumbles, it brings out the worst in people and they become very dangerous. I need you and Lucía safe at the cabin until we know things are getting back to normal, whenever that might be.”

You nod and he turns back to the wheel and starts up the truck, “At least we got a truck out of it, this will make things easier as long as we have gas.”

The truck rumbles through the landscape, in the distance you see a group of infected running towards something but the road curves and you move away from them. Frankie has driven this road hundreds of times, every time he came to pick up or drop off Lucía, and now he wonders at how eerily still it is. There are no people as the truck drives past the first few houses of the small town, cars line the main street but they’ve been pushed to the side. The dents and scrapes on them indicate that something big came through and shoved them out of the way.

Frankie turns down a smaller side street, and then another small street, coming to the end of town. There are a few cars still parked outside the houses but most are gone. You glance over at him, his fingers are drumming on the steering wheel as his restless eyes bounce around the street, looking for infected, people, anything. He’s grinding his teeth, the muscle in his jaw flexing and when he pulls up outside a small bungalow you hear his white knuckles make the steering wheel creak.

“This is their place,” he says in a low voice, “the car is still here.” He opens the truck door and steps down, listening for any movement as you follow him out. Pulling his gun he moves carefully up the porch and tests the handle on the door, it’s locked.

“Stay by the truck,” he says to you, “if anything happens, if anyone comes, fire once in the air, ok?”

You nod and do as he says. Frankie carefully walks down the side of the house, easily scaling the wooden fence that closes off the backyard. He disappears from view and you nervously wait, looking around the quiet neighborhood. When he opens the door to the house from the inside you jump but he holds up his hand in a placating sign, signaling for you to stay where you are. He disappears into the house again, you guess this means Lucía isn’t here, and neither is anyone else.

You hear him walking through the house and before long he comes back out, a note in his hand.

“They’ve been evacuated,” he says, showing you the note from Lucía’s mom. It’s dated the day before yesterday, Saturday, the note says the soldiers came at night and gave them fifteen minutes to pack up essentials.

“She says they told her they’re going to a quarantine zone in Franklin. I’ve got to see if I can get them out of there.” He breathes a sigh of relief, “At least they’re safe for now.” he says, getting back into the truck and starting it up.

As the truck rumbles through town you start seeing more infected, they stumble out of a few of the shops, attracted to the sound of the truck. At one intersection you see a large number of them fallen into a pile, bullet wounds to their heads, and you quickly look away. Their pallid skin, starting to show strange looking lesions, no longer looks human, but their clothes are still bright and colorful, reminds you terribly of the people who would’ve put them on, maybe on Friday morning, expecting just another day.

Frankie speeds up, leaving town, and the shrieking infected behind, heading for Franklin. It’s less than an hour away, the nearest big city, and like before you see the cars pushed to the side of the road. Frankie’s fingers are drumming on the steering wheel again, his grip tight, his jaw clenched. He’s getting closer to Lucía, now he knows she’s safe, he just needs to get to her.

“When we get to the quarantine zone, do you think we should stay there?” you ask him. “It doesn’t sound like a ‘quarantine zone’ is somewhere they’ll let you in and out of. Maybe it’ll be safer for us there too?”

“I don’t know,” Frankie says, glancing over at you, “I need to see it first, how are they quarantining people? Keeping them separate enough so that if someone is already infected, they can’t attack and infect more people?” His fingers drum faster against the wheel, “I just need to see her, see her safe.”

You put your hand on his leg and give it a squeeze and he drops his hand, curling his fingers around yours.

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Still stings a bit, but it’s dulled, hurts when I move it.” You test moving your arm up and down, feeling the pull of the compress.

“It’ll give you gnarly looking scar,” he grins, “match some of mine.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and gives it a kiss, his eyes leaving the road for a second. When he looks back again he sees birds circling up ahead.

“Buzzards,” he points them out to you. “Looks like they’re circling just over the road.” He slows down the truck as you come around a bend, clearing a small group of trees. The rumble of the truck startles the birds and you see more of them rise into the sky from the field bordering the road. Frankie stops the truck, leaving it in neutral, watching the birds circle, waiting to see if something moves. When nothing stirs he opens the door, signaling for you to stay put, and he steps on to the instep of the truck, hoisting himself up so that he can look over the door of the truck.

“Oh fuck…” you hear him breathe out.

“What, Frankie, what is it?” you ask but he doesn’t answer so you open your own door and swing yourself up on the instep. Frankie glances back at you and motions for you to get back inside.

“Cariño, don’t, you don’t wanna- “

It’s too late, you look over the field, it looks like almost a hundred people are lying in it, none of them moving. The buzzards are settling back down, walking across the still bodies.

“Oh my god…” you gasp, your hand going over your mouth as your eyes widen in horror. “What killed them?” you whisper, “are they infected?”

“Get into the driver’s seat,” he says, “I’m going closer but I need you to be ready to drive if they are infected.”

“I’m not leaving without you, Frankie!” you say in a hard voice, as you slide over the bench seat and get behind the wheel.

“I’m counting on it, cariño,” he grips your hand before jumping down onto the ground. Grabbing the rifle from the back he loads it before he starts moving slowly towards the field.

You step up onto the instep on the driver’s side, watching Frankie’s back as he makes his way across the road and into the field. As he reaches the first body he crouches down and seems to inspect them. Nothing moves, none of the bodies are jerking, they’re just dead. He stands up again and walks around the outskirts of where they’ve fallen. Suddenly he stops, slinging the rifle onto his back, before he steps into the mass of bodies, he must be stepping on them as he bends down and pulls at one of them, turning it over to face him. He stumbles back, losing his footing and falls onto his back among the bodies.

Without thinking you jump down from the truck and run to him, grabbing hold of his arm as he scrambles to stand up, getting away from the bodies.

“It’s Helena, she’s the mom of Lucía’s best friend,” he pants, standing up. You look over at the blonde woman, her open eyes looking sightless to the sky. Her torso has at least three bullet holes in the pale blue shirt she’s wearing, blood staining the light fabric dark.

“They lived across the street from Lucía,” Frankie croaks and you suddenly realize what he’s saying, gripping his arm hard.

He tears himself away from you as he starts circling around the bodies, crouching down, looking under those who have fallen on top of others, his eyes desperately scanning every face, every piece of visible clothing, looking for something he recognizes, praying he doesn’t. His heart is racing, his vision narrows into one long tunnel, focused on the bodies, praying, cursing, he can’t hear you call after him.

And then he sees it.

The hem of a dress he’d know anywhere because her abuela made it for her.

With a shout he steps into the mass of bodies. You rush up behind him, tears are welling up into your eyes, as you watch him scramble over to the small body. Skinny little legs in sneakers you bought for her birthday, you bite down hard on your lip to stop yourself from wailing.

The dress is sticking out from underneath a woman, and as he gets closer he realizes it’s his ex-girlfriend, her arms hugging her daughter tight, even in death. The back of her tan coat is dark with coagulated blood that sticks to his hands as he bends back her arms to release her grip. As he shoves her aside a strangled cry goes up from the small body underneath, Lucia’s head moves as a rattled breath escapes her lungs and Frankie cries out in relief, grabbing hold of her waist to gently turn her over, scanning her body for injuries, he sees no blood on her.

“Mija, I’m here, I’m here,” he gasps, “daddy’s here, Lucía, I’m here.”

He’s holding out his arms to lift her up when he sees it.

Trailing under the skin of her small throat.

Up under the pallid skin of her cheeks, spreading out in a fine net.

Tendrils reaching out from her small mouth.

“Frankie!” you cry as the small body shrieks and reaches for him. He almost takes her hand, almost takes the small hand that’s grasping after his. You can see it, even from behind him, you can see the empty eyes, the twitching movement.

Infected.

His hand is still in the air, halfway to reaching out for her, his Lucía, her hand outstretched to him. As she screams, his hand drops to his gun.

You turn your head when the gunshot rings out.

Chapter 15

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