#and i make sure the stable is clean for the poor guy

[impossible-rat-babies]

vierapril day 17--touch

#ffxiv #oc: eyrie kisne #vierapril #vierapril24 #i should have a gpose tag #based on the joke that eyrie has two chocobos bc an inactive member has had their chocobo stabled #for the past two or so odd years #and i make sure the stable is clean for the poor guy #his name is jing and he's like. this slightly more orange than a usual chocobo lmaoo

[coldresolve]

Hi, I'm Elias, I'm a 26yo trans guy from Denmark. I write shit, I draw shit, and I get into unneccesarily tedious arguments with anons about torture apologia in fiction. I think that sums up my vibe

I've made a few posts about this already, but tl;dr: the Danish NHS has been refusing to treat me for gender dysphoria for the better part of a year now because they've deemed me "unstable." Unstable how, you ask?

I have depression.

No, that is quite literally it. Full context under the readmore.

Fighting to be heard and having the door repeatedly slammed in your face sucks peak ass, and I'm done now. The NHS is so lackluster when it comes to trans people, all of a sudden, it makes perfect sense to me why 31% of transgender Danes get HRT outside of the NHS.

And I'd rather not have to turn to the black market, so rn I'm hoping to get a prescription with GenderGP. The issue is, I'm poor as fuck and can't afford the start-up fees for the forseeable future - unless I do something like this. I hate asking others for money, and I hate it even more if I'm not in a place where I can give anything in return. But I also recognize I'm in over my head with this, so. If you've got a cent or two to spare, I'd be grateful as hell.

I've mathed it out, and my best estimate is that I need around 3500,- DKK / $500 USD. Again, this is just to cover the initial subscription as well as mandatory consultations/blood tests. I should be able to cover the prescriptions on my own, as well as further tests/consultations down the line, so I'm hoping this is a one-and-done sort of thing.

paypal: [email protected]

Also, important note. We're in a global cost of living/housing crisis and this isn't a strict life-or-death situation. If you're in a tough spot right now, don't send me anything, that'd just make me feel worse about asking. I appreciate the thought but you gotta take care of your own needs first. Peace and take care ✌️

So I've been dealing with major depressive disorder since I was 11. It runs in my family, and as you might imagine, after 15 years of living with this thing, I've learned how to manage it pretty well by now. I know what it's like to genuinely be unstable - and if I were in a place like that, no problem, I'd be open about that. I wouldn't be making decisions like this. I know myself. You kind of have to when you're dealing with a chronic mental illness.

Here's where I am right now: I've got no suicidal ideation, been clean from self harm for four years, no psychosis, no inpatient admissions for the last five years. I live on my own, take my meds, and I'm keeping my life in order. Depressed, yes, but about as stable as someone with my history can get, and ask anyone who knows me, me wanting to get on HRT isn't some spur of the moment decision. I've done a fucking decade of soul searching, and a few years ago, I finally (duh) reached the conclusion that living as a woman isn't something I can even fake being content with - believe me, I've tried. I'm well aware of the scope of medical transition, but I'm settled in who I am. And I just want to live like me now. That's the only thing I want.

If it counts for anything, my partner and family have supported me through this, which has been priceless obviously, but it also goes to show that me saying "I'm capable of making medical decisions" isn't purely a personal assessment. I'm pretty sure they'd speak up if they thought I was being unstable about it or whatever

But the CPH clinic for sexology, who have consistently refused to listen to me telling them all this, have somehow magically aquired divine knowledge on my capacity to make adult decisions about my own body, and on the basis that I have MDD, they're refusing to even set me up for a preliminary interview - one that would preceed a 6 month full-team psych evaluation before the prospect of HRT would even come up. They said in their latest refusal that they wont accept another referral from me until a year after my last in-clinic conversation with them, which happened on October 24th, 2023 - meaning that with the NHS, if they accepted my referral come October (which I don't have much faith they will), the earliest I could possibly get on HRT is April 2025. Arguing for my own sanity would've sucked enough as is, but it's made harder by the fact that they won't even talk to me. You're a trans guy who would like healthcare, but you have a mental illness? Good luck, you're on your own. Long live the Danish bureaucracy.

Dysphoria makes me fucking miserable. I'd rather not have to write a sob story here, and tumblr is like 80% trans people so I guess a good portion of you can imagine why waiting another year for the possibility of maybe-perhaps-if-all-goes-well getting on HRT would not actually make me less miserable about it.

So. I'm sitting down next week along with my mom to file a formal complaint with the patient's rights committee. I don't know what to call this other than some form of discrimination on the basis of mental illness, because nothing in my current situation would prohibit me from making medical decisions for myself. And I honestly don't think that a complaint is going to do much, but I intend to make it obnoxiously long, because by law, a specialized doctor and an attorney have to read through the whole thing. If you can't beat 'em, make 'em read 50 pages of you going into detail about why you think they suck, right

And yeah, like I said, in the meantime, I'm trying to go via GenderGP. It'd be nice if my poor ass could get HRT via the NHS instead of having to pay out of pocket, but apparently the bar for entry requires that you 1) have gender dysphoria to the point where it impedes normal function and 2) somehow aren't mentally ill. Who wrote these rules? Some 60yo cis guy in a suit in Christiansborg, I imagine.

Feel free ask about anything relating to this whole situation, I'll be as open as I can about it, cause I understand that if you're going to give money to someone, you want to know what it's going to. Though I hope you understand I'm not going to doxx myself more than I already have now, or give you my entire medical history - only what's relevant to my current situation.

I know Denmark is a welfare state and on a global scale we're doing alright, but I hope you don't mind if I say this: This shouldn't be happening as often as it does. Fuck the Danish NHS.

#other #slight self doxx ig #idec ill post my bare ass for testosterone #do rb if u want but also no pressure. i want this whole thing to be on a want-to only basis alright

[ithaquasbbg]

andrew, naib, and lucky guy one shots when they’re s/o gets badly hurt in a match?

I will be doing these as headcanons unfortunately, since I don’t write full blown one shots for multiple characters in one post, but I do Headcanons for up to 5. I hope I can do your ask Justice, even if it’s not one shots. ☺️

Andrew, Naib & Lucky w/ an injured s/o

I think another creator got the same req or very similar, if I find it I will tag it ☺️

Andrew

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Unfortunately, I don’t think the poor dear would be able to take seeing you injured well. The moment he sees you injured, he’ll go into panic mode.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ He’s worried he’ll lose you like he did his mother, and a few tears may end up falling.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ “I can’t lose you too, (Name), please..”

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ He has a general idea of how to patch up wounds from back when he was younger, but not to this extent.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Still, Andrew tries to do what he can, though his hands are shaking the entire time.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ He picks you up and lays you down somewhere comfortable at least, putting a few pillows under your head.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ “(Name), please keep your eyes open…” Andrew tries his best to make sure you don’t fall asleep on him while he patches up your wounds as well as he can.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Should he not have bandages on hand, be ready for him to rip up pieces of his clothing to wrap around your wounds, anything he can do to stop the bleeding.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ He’s really terrified and desperate, barely able to see what he’s doing because of the tears that are threatening to fall

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ He’s not the type to curse often in your presence, but you’ll hear a few coming out of him as he continues to panic.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Eventually he picks you up and runs to Emily, since she may have a better idea of what to do. He didn’t want to at first, but he’ll set his fear aside to make sure you’re okay!

· ͟͟͞͞꒰��� When you do recover, he’ll be by your side constantly, checking to make sure you’re okay.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ After every match though, expect him to check you in order to make sure you aren’t injured, his poor heart can’t deal with that again!

Naib

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Unlike Andrew, he’d be much better at dealing with injuries due to his job, he knows what to do in a situation like this to at least hold you over until he can get you professional help.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ He’ll take you somewhere that’s at least comfortable though, because if you’re in pain, it might help you to be somewhere you feel safe, somewhere you can lie down.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ he might not have bandages on hand, so like Andrew be ready to see him ripping his clothing up to wrap around your injuries.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ “Look at me, (Name), you’ll be alright.”

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Naib himself is very worried! But he won’t show it to you, because if he did, you may panic.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Tries to distract you from the pain as he cleans out your wounds and wraps them. Though it’s not permanent, he’ll make sure to clean them to reduce the risk of infection.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Occasionally he’ll praise you for holding still, leaving a kiss on your forehead or grabbing your hand.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Though his worry is more evident when he does this, as you can feel yourself just how shaky his hands are

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Gets you to Emily as quickly as he can after making sure you’re at least in a stable condition.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Naib refuses to take his eyes off of you the entire time, holding your hand as the doctor treats you

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ As you slowly get better, expect him to be much more protective than he was before hand! You already gave him one scare, and he wants to make sure it doesn’t happen again!

Lucky guy

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ As soon as he sees your injuries he has you sit down and bandages them up as well as he can. He has experience from previous matches, and should be able to keep your condition from worsening

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ He’s exceptionally nervous though, as he did lose a friend in a way similar to this, and worries it may happen to you as well.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ He’s not exceptionally strong and struggles to carry you to Emily, but he knows that’s where he needs you to go.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Fortunately, his luck is on his (and your) side, and you’re able to recover from your injuries, albeit quite slowly.

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ He tries to make you happy though while you’re in bed resting, bringing you items and snacks, or just sitting there talking to you so you can have company

· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Do expect him to keep an eye on you afterwards though, he doesn’t want you getting hurt again!

#idv fandom #idv fanfic #idv headcanons #idv imagines #idv x reader #idv scenarios #idv matchup #idv andrew #idv grave keeper #andrew idv #grave keeper idv #idv naib #idv mercenary #Naib idv #mercenary idv #idv lucky guy #lucky guy idv #lucky guy #idv

[azucar-skull]

Shedding some light on my situation:

Yesterday, I opened up emergency commissions out of the blue with a very brief explanation on the current crisis at home. As promised, here are some more details on the situation.

Last Thanksgiving, I got disowned by half of my family on my mother's side after I exposed my abusers for what they are. Ever since I got home, it's one thing after another.

Recovery (physically from injuries too), chronic illness diagnosis, Grandpa having a hospital emergency (where I had to clean up his blood), Green Eyed Mask going on hiatus due to stress, finally finishing GEM...then my dad broke the TV.

It was so unlike him to be shouting at my mom for no reason, in my gut, I knew there was a bigger picture.

Dad getting upset, my aunts and uncles coming to visit more often, telling everyone to not say "Happy birthday" to Grandpa because he's too far gone, my abuela bringing out Grandpa's antiques from his time in military.

Last week, I was let out of class early and arrived home to everyone huddled in the kitchen with paperwork. While no one was looking, I saw that the paperwork was for Grandpa's will.

My grandpa is now 88 years old, the youngest sibling in his immediate family. His older brothers and father died at war, his sister and mother of old age. It was a given that this year is his last, he'll be lucky if he makes it to July.

A long anticipated death causes stress on the entire family. I've noticed that my body is out of balance, sobbing at random intervals all day even if I'm feeling fine. It's messing up my sleep, appetite, even my fucking periods which were already a bitch in the first place.

I avoided telling you guys because art is what kept me going. I would hide in my room and draw all day, the rest of the world fading. That's all I do now, hide.

But everyone else in my family is suffering too. My dad broke the TV 2 months ago and home is falling apart by the day. My brother opted to stealing food from the grocery store and living off of chicken tenders and fries from the deli. Mom is never seen, absorbed in her own work as much as I am. The house is a mess, the fridge is empty, bills piling up, riding pay check to paycheck.

It's not that we are poor or losing financial stability (I think), if we were I could turn to my community college for help but I'm not eligible. It's the fact that everyone is so down and busy that we forget the basics like food, long overdue haircuts, doctor appointments, taking care of the dogs, etc.

It's an "every man for themselves" kind of situation. And as a disabled person, I'm unable to work a stable job. So that's why I opened commissions. Money that I can hold of my own should there be a situation like now where I had to buy food the second I got my first order.

But this also means I am going to be more busy taking care of myself and my family. Comic production will be delayed a bit, and I unfortunately can't say for sure if Feral Casey AU will be ready by the end of May.

All I ask is for your support and patience. Reblogging my commission post helps a lot more than you think. And thank you again for everything.

Commission Post

#azucar skull #emergency commissions #explained

[zoetheneko]

Zoe's lore: Part 3

Notes: this part had gaps that were difficult to fill. I wasn't not even sure if putting them into writing is enough to make you guys understand the many key scenes of this chapter of the story.

Even when was cleaning herself up and getting her injuries treated, the girl would only stir up a few words and little eye contact was made between her and the staff.

Once in her room, all she did was laying in her bed and stare at the ceiling. Want someone would come in to bring her food, she'd just look away from them.

While the kid was contained in her room, Cassie, Johnny, Kurtis & Rambo were discussing of what they should do with her. They can't set the girl free like this, they need to make her talk; Someone had to stay in a nearby room for a while to make sure that the girl was kept stable, or in case things went south.

Everyone agreed for Rambo to go an do it. According to Cassie, it would bring "reenforced support".

Now, everything was (kind off) settled.

_____________________

When the night came and everyone went to sleep, at first and for a few hours, everything went just like every night at the medical clinic.

But then a terrified scream alarmed John and the nearby staff, it came from the girls room.

John rushed first to it and once he opened the door, he found the poor child laying on her side with her face shoved into the mattress, back towards the door shaking and cry. Oddly, there were no signs of a fire.

Rambo could now tell that she woke up from a nightmare. He moved towards the other side of the bed and took a seat beside her.

The girl gazed in surprise when she turned her head to see who was beside her, his hand lying on her shoulder. It was him, John Rambo right? The guy who got her out of that desert, he was there and he was actually cool with her.

She suddenly got up and gave a hug to him, starting to cry again. After a while, she let go of him and went back to sleep.

_____________________

The next morning, the girl's mood changed.

She gave less cold-shoulders and looked at people a bit more often. Perhaps it was a good sign and seemed at a decent enough state to make a conversation.

John actually came to the kid's room with her dinner and tried to have a chat with her. He asked to introduce herself since she wouldn't do so the first two times. The girl's name was Zoe.

Through the conversation, she also told him that she was ready to tell her story tommorow.

After the chat was over, John exited the room and came to Sonya & Cassie and told them that the girl, Zoe, was willing to coorperate.

To be continued...

Previous part - Next part

@theelderhazelnut @geeky-trash01 @scentedcandleibex @darialovesstuff @huepazu @mitsuko-saito @bloody-arty-myths @zombieoffender @onehornedbeast

#zoe #mk zoe #mortal kombat zoe #mk oc #self insert #rambo #john rambo #cassie cage #johnny cage #stryker #kurtis stryker #mk stryker #sonya blade #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mk11 #backstory #lore #writer on tumblr

[macarensesangles]

Desire, Future, and Mistake for SW!Pfeil :3c

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

honestly, i think he just wants to go home. not zygerria or the shipyard on orphan or anywhere he's been, but the Idea of home. some anonymous apartment on some anonymous planet with a boring job and a normal life. he's probably about as open about it as he is about anything else. whether he tries or not, he's never getting that. it's just not what happens to force adepts or long lost princes. he's cursed with narrative relevance and sentenced forever to being Interesting, poor guy

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

this is a hard one! given his self-destructive tendencies i think Dead is a pretty bad and very possible future for him, but it also feels a little cheap to list. i think a more salient one to list is one where he stays with polydegmon because of the desire above: a stable, "normal" life. all the politics in the imperial palace aren't pfeil's favorite, and he wouldn't like it or call it "normal" necessarily, but compared to his lifestyle with the rebels it's a LOT closer to his desire for a safe and mundane existence. he doesn't take many steps to avoid this up until he finally has the opportunity to escape (and until polydegmon probably engineers some stupid argument to rip off the bandaid), but his conscience eats at him the whole time.

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

it feels too easy to say it's what happened with his mom (for those unaware: accidental use of the force that killed her during a fight they had, bc she was abusive), especially because it wasn't like, intentional. but i think HE looks at it as his worst mistake, and he really hasn't moved on or fixed it in any way. in fact, he's kind of neglected his arguable responsibility to clean up the resultant political mess from his mother's presumed assassination and his own presumed kidnapping, because going back to your childhood home where you were abused in order to try to engage your complicit family members as political rivals is understandably a hellish ask for a guy whose deepest wish is to be a no-name minimum wage cashier at Space Mcdonalds. whether he ever WILL go back and clean up that mess personally is something i'm still not sure about. i think he himself is torn between his feeling that he's obligated to fix the problem because being born into power gives him a responsibility to his people even if he doesn't want it and his feeling that he would rather peel himself like a banana than look at his stupid relatives again and go back to the place he capital h Hates more than anywhere else in the universe. maybe running away was more the mistake.

#abuse ment #thank you for the ask <333

[the-fiction-witch]

The Farm

Media Godless 

Character Whitey Winn

Couple Whitey X Reader

Rating Sweet AF

Concept Farm Girl  

I rose from my bed before dawn pushing my blankets off me, I fixed my bed and immediately slipped into my boots, lacing them up as tight as I could even if my blisters and sore spots were already aching. Once both were on I stood on my dusty floorboards readjusting my underdress where it had shifted in the night I got my much more flexible corset tying up the ribbons, I slipped on all my various skirts then my little cream dress over the top, I got my brown apron from the rim of my almost completely shattered mirror almost being unable now to see my reflection at all I tied it at my back with a bow. I put my hair in a long braid with a ribbon and grabbed my tools from my pocket heading out of my little wooden house to be faced with the early morning grey before the sun rises but I didn't bother taking much interest. I had far more important work to do.

"Oh for god- Danny. Get back here" I complained chasing after Danny duck who was halfway across the farm already "you clever little thing, how do you keep getting out of there" I complained taking him back to the pen. I went to the shed grabbed the feed for the horses, taking it to the stables and letting them eat while I merely spot-cleaned their stables. Then going along with my shovel leaving feed and water at all the animal's pens and scooping any muck that needed to be taken away, the ducks, the chickens, the goats, lastly I fed the pigs giving them a good clean and some water to freshen up their mud trying to go but finding a tug on my dress turning back to see waddles the little piglet almost all pink with only one brown spot over his left eye and ear the runt of his farrow and really only survived his baby stage because I brought him into the house and fed him myself if I didn’t he would have past away not long after he was born or been crushed under his mother and siblings, he was holding my skirt in his mouth looking at me

"Alright" I sighed letting him waddle around behind me squeaking happily all the while

I went out and checked everything in the fields making sure no birds or other animals had gotten in it, going to the well to fill up my watering can in order to water everything as we were days from a good rain. Using my little trowel to dig up any weeds I spotted trying to make their way up in the world often I could just give them waddles to devour. I let the animals who could be allowed to play in the yard out of course while I worked on planting in the field and making sure the farm ran smoothly all with waddles wandering behind me. But as I was pulling up a fresh pale of water from the well I noticed something, a horse heading this way. I knew the horse immediately so I set everyone back into their pens trying to put waddles back with his family but he wasn't having it "alright. Come on then" I sighed letting him follow me to the gates where the horse stopped and its rider climbed down

"Hiya y/n"

"What do you want Mr Winn?" I glared crossing my arms

"Same as always, come see my lil darlin" he Cooes leaning over the fence to give my cheek a kiss

"Fine" I sighed unlocking the gate and letting him inside immediately waddles went to his leg

"Awww Hiya little guy, sorry forgot ya carrot today," he told him giving waddles a pet "ya gettin' chubby guy maybe we'll have to make ya into tasty bacon"

Immediately waddles squealed and ran behind my skirts at the mere mention of that word

"Whitey! Don't you'll scare him, you know he doesn't like that word" I told him off giving poor waddles a pet as he was now shaking "apologize"

"Sorry waddles I was only jokin'"

"put ted on the stable with Millie and Maggie," I told him

"Course, he's missed his girls" he chuckled giving ted a pet

"I'm sure they missed him too"

"Ya sure, ya don't just keep me around so ya have access to a couple healthy stallions?" He smirked

"Shut up whitey" I told him slapping the back of his head and knocking his hat off he tied ted up in the stables and I went to the hen house with my basket gathering eggs with now both waddles and whitey following along behind me

"So… have ya missed me?"

"I suppose whitey"

"Cause I missed ya. I missed ya a lot"

"Well I've been busy whitey, this place doesn't run all by itself. Even when I do come to town for supplies you're always in the office or asleep anyway"

"cause ya come town at six in the mornin' darlin" he says "I miss not seein ya" he says wrapping his arms around my waist

"I missed you too whitey" I smiled giving him a kiss "now bugger off I have work to do," I told him pushing him away

"Ya need a hand?"

"Look for eggs." I told him

"Alright." He smiled helping where he could to clear the henhouse

"Ohh dear"

"What?"

"Poor Henrietta. Fourth round no eggs. Only a couple more before we'll have to make stew"

"Really?"

"One of those things whitey hens don't lay forever."

"Hu. Hope when I stop bein' useful ya don't turn me into stew"

"I'll consider it" I smiled heading out with my eggs in hand and taking them to the sorting table "what exact use to me are you now whitey?"

"Hey! I'm useful."

"For?"

"..... I. Bring ya stuff. Sometimes"

"Think faster whitey the waters boiling" I warn sorting the eggs into ones I'd keep, ones I'd take to labelle and ones I'd put back for future chickens

"I'm useful" he pouts cuddling me again kissing my shoulder "I'm a pillow. I'm a blanket. I'm… ya future husband"

"Are you now?"

"Hummm"

"Somebody has to ask first"

"workin' on it. Waitin' for bill to give me a raise"

"Is it really a good idea for Labelle's deputy to have a wife out on a farm?"

"I gotta have a life away from work darlin"

"I guess so whitey" I laughed holding his hands so we could cuddle

“Ummmm I missed ya, so bad my lil darlin” he cooes giving me little kisses and squeezing me tightly “I wish I could come out and see ya more often,”

“Well you're here now best make the most of it”

"I am" he cooes kissing my cheek "Maybe I should... move a bit more of my stuff out here? keep my stuff here on the farm with ya"

"Oh?"

"Maybe, so I get used to the trip back and forth. That  and it'll make it easier when I do move onto the farm"

"I don't think you'd like living out here whitey"

"why not? fresh air, space for ted, plenty of space to practice without shootin' anybody, a waddles to pet, and a beautiful lil girly to snuggle"

"I think you'd get bored out here"

"why there's always stuff do? or at least ya always doin' stuff?"

"Alright, go fetch water from the well, then go clean out the duck pen, then stock the stables with hay, then chop firewood, then sweep the yard, then repair that loose fence post, then -"

"Alright, alright I get it." he laughs "Ya a busy lil darlin', but I really mean it y/n. I wanna move up to the farm with ya, I know it's a lot of work but surely ya want an extra set of hands," he says "I know its a lot of work but, Ya worth it lil darlin" he cooes turning me to face him

"You're sure?"

"of course I am, it's a lot of work but, this is your home. And soon it'll be mine too"

"Umm I love you" I smiled hugging him tightly

"Love ya too lil darlin" He cooes squeezing me tightly I smiled moving back a little and giving his lips a sweet kiss he happily kissed back slowly and gently until we were interrupted by waddles who was squeaking for attention at our feet "Yeah we love ya too little guy," he laughs giving waddles a pet

"Humm my silly boys" I giggled at them

"well works all done, so Can we go inside and cuddle?”

“Alright” I laughed finishing up my work he happily tugged me top the house little waddles going to the porch bouncing excitedly

“Sorry little guy, we’re gonna have a little alone time,” he said pushing him towards the pig pen and tugging me inside the house.

#tbs #tbs au #tbs fanfic #tbs smut #tbs smutty #tbs sex #TBS Imagine #tbs imagines #godless Whitey Winn imagine #godless imagine #godless #godless netflix #godless whitey #godless whitey winn #Godless whitey win smut #godless whitey smut #godless imagines #netflix godless imagine #whitey #whitey smut #whitey winn #whitey winn imagines #whitey winn smut #whitey winn smutty #godless whitey winn smut #godless whitey winn smutty #whitey imagine #whitey imagines #netflix whitey imagine #godless smut

[thedreadvampy]

I am. For some reason. Being haunted by guilt for this one fucking thing that happened when I was 17. It keeps floating up whenever I try to sleep the last couple of days, I think it's cause Sam's been ill. so I'm putting it here in an attempt to exorcise it. please tell me if this is a situation it makes sense to feel guilty about 13 years later.

Ok so I'm 17, right? I have this boyfriend. He's 18? 19? Not 100% sure on timings on this. and we've been together for about 9 months.

I'm still at school. He's not - he dropped out of sixth form twice, doesn't have a job and is on and off benefits. He's living in his mum's house but I think by this point she's up and moved to Ghana without much notice, leaving him alone with 4 cats and a dog (I'm not actually 100% sure she'd moved out yet at the time but I'm the interests of steelmanning the guilt let's assume she had. I think she had).

We live in different towns - he lives in the nearest Proper Town, the one with like a train station and shopping centre and cinema and clubs. I live 2 buses away - there's a 45 minute bus that takes me from his to the town I go to school in, which goes every 20 minutes 6am-11pm, and then the 20/40 min bus (it takes alternating routes) that I have to take from that town to my village, which goes every 80 minutes 7am-5pm.

My habit at the time is leaving school on Friday, getting the bus to his, spending every weekend there, then going to school from his on Monday and going home after school to spend the week at home. So we sort of half live together - I do a lot of the shopping and cleaning for his house while I'm there cause I work and get a £20/wk allowance from my parents and have no bills to pay, whereas he doesn't have any stable income and since his mum left he's gotta pay for the bills on this 2 person house as well as food and stuff for himself and the animals.

So that's the context this is happening in. He's feeling very abandoned and not really coping, and I've been trying to fill that gap but also I Am Seventeen.

Anyway it's Christmas time, and I've agreed that I'll spend the run-up to Christmas at his and then get the last bus home on Christmas Eve to spend actual Christmas with my family.

I wake up on Christmas Eve about 3am because it is BOILING. I reach over and touch his skin and it literally hurts to touch cause he's running such a high fever. When he wakes up I ask him if he's ok, if he needs me to call the doctor etc, he won't let me do that. I get him water and paracetamol and honey and lemon and a bucket in case he needs to throw up but by about 3pm I'm like I truly have to go bc this is the absolute latest I can leave to catch the last bus home before December 27th (no buses on Christmas or Boxing Day).

and he is crying and begging me not to leave him and calling me selfish and saying I don't love him. and I do everything I can to make sure he's going to be ok and has plenty of food and water in reach and then I go.

(I was very right about the urgency of leaving if I wanted to get home, btw, bc it was below zero and snowing heavily and I JUST got onto the last bus at a dead run. and then that broke down in the snow 2 miles away from home, it was like an hour of just me and the bus driver sitting in an unheated bus while the snow piled up and he called the depot trying to get someone to come out 30+ miles to pick him and the bus up last thing before Christmas. Poor guy. Eventually my mum managed to drive out and pick me up and bring the driver a thermos of tea and some heat packs to tide him over until the cavalry came. so yeah there wasn't a lot of wiggle room in that travel plan.)

anyway my memories of that Christmas Eve have always largely focused on the bus thing. but like. the last few days I'm really thinking about how scary and lonely that genuinely must have been for my ex. like. if I'm right in thinking this was after his mum left, this was probably his first Christmas alone and he spent it racked with flu, running a fever in his room and his girlfriend just went away and left him to it. and like. That must have felt awful

and I keep just thinking should I have done something different? tried to get him to my parents' for Christmas? stuck around until the 27th? maybe talked to my mum and seen whether she could come pick me up on Christmas Day?

or like. even if i didn't do anything wrong. does it make me a bad person that I was so desperate to get out of his house and so relieved once I was away? like I just did not want to deal with that?

like it's obviously all moot, it was half my life ago and anyway it's a snapshot of a much more substantive and complicated relationship. but like. It's just sitting on me at the moment. while I flop around feeling sorry for myself bc I'm running a fever.

#red said

[ladiablita209]

Much needed vent about what happened yesterday/disregard I just have no one to talk to so I might as well write it here:

My brother’s killer made parole yesterday. We had a long day and it’s so fucked because he was lying. On the autopsy report of my brother there was no sign of struggle and he had no drugs or alcohol in his system or on him along with no weapon. We all spoke today and he fucking blamed it on his mental health and growing up environment and I’m like…..okay a lot of people go through things and I know it’s a different experience for everyone but my brother that’s no longer with us if he did the same shit he would’ve probably gotten life. Not only that but they legit had been raised in the same fucking “g-town” (barrio ghost town because Galt is a small town city where my brother was with Norteños) environment. That guy had no fucking remorse and was trying to make it sound like he did it in self defense when even the girl he was with at the time sold him out who was also a minor! Now he’s sending fucking love letters to a girl inmate and they plan to have a good life after making parole. He’s only falling back into the pattern of being abusive to all his partners and being codependent because of sociopathic behavior and wanting to feed on the emotions of others. Like who the fuck sells drugs to both fucking gangs? That’s already dangerous as it is and the only reason my brother went out was because he wanted to see some of his friends and family that was going to be there since he had just gotten out of prison. He wasn’t even wearing red. He threw away all his gang related clothes and his so called best friend who was really cuddles and sunshine with the rival (my brother left the gang life and they were out for him just like his former gang rival was) as well decided to kill him by luring him into a field and murdering him. My brother was changing for the good. He had already been clean and sober, hadn’t been out for a while, was scared to go outside, stayed home taking care of his daughter, he was always afraid that by him leaving that lifestyle they were gonna kill him and they fucking did. That fucking puto madre. And he plans to be in Lodi or Stockton which feels so close and uncomfortable. He still would’ve had seven more years if he didn’t make parole but oh what a joy one asshole makes good behavior and is mentally stable and they say yeah let’s grant him early release! Like do you know how many times I’ve lied so I wouldn’t get sent to the mental hospital? A lot of times. It’s manipulating the system out of familiarity. He was a full grown adult who did it by his own choice. But “he was young we’ll give him another chance because poor him” he was already 22 when he did it. He’s now 36. Fuck the system. It’s beneficial for certain things, sure but sometimes it’s not and I can’t help but be disappointed.

#tw vent #personal #feel free to disregard

[skoulsons]

imagine joel actually survived. How Abby’s crew got out I don’t know

But like…his knee was shot off. The bottom half of his leg barely hanging on. That thing is USELESS now. Poor old man has to be on crutches all the time now :( Or a wheelchair if they happened to have one.

-But thinking about RIGHT after it happened. Joel passes out bc he’s lost a ton of blood and took a nasty beating. Ellie wakes up to Dina calling her (as in canon). She crawls to Joel’s body and feels his pulse. She hangs with him for a few minutes trying to keep any more bleeding from happening and figuring out how exactly they’re going to get him home. They wait til Tommy wakes up to carry Joel to one of the horses. They ride home in the blizzard and stay close together. Joel’s immediately taken in to medical and worked on. Stitched up, cleaned, all the good stuff.

-Ellie finds a way to guilt herself in to thinking it was her fault. She was taken to the floor immediately. She didn’t even get a shot off. Failure. So she keeps her distance. It doesn’t keep her from peeking in every once and a while, but she checks with the doctors to make sure he’s sleeping when she does. Tommy spends the most time with Joel, Maria checks in every so often as well. Dina and Jesse tried to tell Ellie it’s not her fault and Joel wants to see her, but she’s not convinced. Until Joel tells Tommy to get her so he can see her. Ellie was the last thing Joel saw before he would’ve died. He needs to see her again. Alive and well.

-She visits and sits in the chair beside his bed. Joel has this look on his face. Gratefulness, maybe. He’s happy to be alive and he’s happy she’s alive. She still feels guilty, but she doesn’t want to express that to Joel. Not now. Until he asks her what’s wrong and nearly begs her to talk to him. So she tells him. Tells him everything. And maybe it was too much to dump on the man who can no longer walk and is hurt very badly, but Joel doesn’t complain. If he could hug her, he would. But instead he takes her hand and tries his best to reassure her. She leans in to it and, for a time, they’re back to their old ways.

-Joel’s very dependent on everyone else now. He can’t run any patrols anymore, he can barely ride a horse anymore. The most he can do is crutch around the market, play guitar, and make more wood projects. Sometimes he’ll visit the stables and help clean the horses up. He starts to feel useless and in turn falls down some depression. Ellie’s there, of course. Immediately she’s there. He reminded her of how she was after winter. And she uses the same techniques for Joel that he did on her way back when. It helps, but some days are worse than others. Some days, he stayed in bed. All day. He’d only get up for the bathroom. Ellie brought him food and water throughout the day and played guitar at the bedside. Tommy visited as well to keep Joel talking. When Joel was napping, Tommy and Ellie worked on the house to make things a little easier for Joel. Ellie slept with Joel that night to keep him company, the same way he did for her during winter.

-He snaps at Ellie a few times, but it’s never anything personal. Maybe Joel didn’t sleep much last night, maybe his leg is bothering him extra today, maybe he’s just sick of being an invalid now and will never be back to normal. Or all three and even more. It’s never anything she does. It’s when she asks him questions about if he needs anything. He hates being dependent. He hates that she’s staying away from patrols to use that time to be with him and help him instead. When he’s asked “how’re you doing?” “How’d you sleep?” “Can I get anything for you?” “Do you want to go in to town?” “Do you want me to get your guitar?” It’s the little things always. He should be able to do all of this. He should be able to walk in to town or walk across the living room, grab his guitar, and sit outside with his leg atop the other while he picks away. And sometimes his frustration builds up too much and he snaps. And guilt fills him immediately, but Joel’s never been one for apologizing. Or really knowing how to properly apologize, especially in the moment. Sometimes Ellie ignores his frustration and pushes through and get him what he wants or needs, sometimes she walks away silently to let him have some time alone, and sometimes she snaps back and they fight. Because she’s frustrated too. But she’s trying, trying to get as far from his as possible because he doesn’t need any more. But she comes back every night to make sure he’s okay getting to bed. And Joel apologizes every time. He wouldn’t dare get emotional in front of her willingly, but with the amount of guilt they both know that fills him every time he snaps, she almost wants to beg him to get emotional so he can let it out with someone there and not alone in the darkness. But some nights it’s just too much for him. It’s like everything sarahs death, risking humanity, not being there for ellie during winter is catching up to him. So he boils over. But she’s right there. (This paragraph went on so long I just got over a breakdown over them sorry :D)

[the-letter-horror-lover]

The Library Marauder

Summary:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS! ^^

In this chapter, Cielle unravels an age old secret about the Phantomhive's

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sullivan looked at me like I was mad. "How can we not inform anyone of this ring? What if it's stolen? Moreover, it might help us find out who was masquerading as caretaker!"

"Sullivan, please just do as I say," I said, closing Black Diamond's stable door. "I do not say things out of reason."

"Are you sure you're sound of mind?" she bristled. "You truly believe it is best to do nothing."

"To do nothing is not at all what I am suggesting. Rather the opposite..." I debated telling her about Lizzie's disappearance and the other missing girls. No, it would rouse unwanted attention. One wrong step, and I might further endanger Lizzie from the cult. Secrecy was best in this matter, especially if I wanted to single-handedly apprehend that rogue cipher sender.

"The situation is delicate, Sullivan."

"What situation?" Her emerald eyes shined with fresh suspicion. "Is there... something you're not telling me? Rather odd for a student to join in the middle of the year. What is the true nature of your visit?"

I needed to put an end to her incessant questioning. I lowered my gaze at the dogmatic girl. Perhaps I was cruel to expose her like this, but it couldn't be helped. “You will tell no one of this incident, Sullivan," I said calmly. "I do not wish to extort someone of your nature. I imagine it would make your stay at Imperial Academy... unpleasant. "

"Are you blackmailing me?" She barked with laughter. "Oh this is real rich!"

"Quite the opposite, wouldn't you say?" I whispered.

Sullivan fell silent.

"You are currently a scholarship student, are you not?” I inquired.

"I..."

My eyes travelled down her petite form. “Your uniform is well kept but faded compared to the other girls."

"So what of it?" she demanded.

Did she really want me to continue? "It means you cannot afford multiple pairs like the other girls so you wash the same one everyday. If that's not conclusive enough, we can look to your book collection. Most of the spines look worn and tattered."

Sullivan sniffed. ”Well, if you can’t enjoy reading a book over again, then it’s not a very good book is it?”

"No, but the books on the top shelf with crisp and pristine pages, have the library stamp. I suppose you brought the older books from home. You must've reread them over and over because you could not afford new reading material." A rustle came from Bellismo’s corner. I dismissed it and refocused my attention on Sullivan. I didn't need to go on. I shouldn't have gone on. But deducing Sullivan so thoroughly gave me a sense of wretched satisfaction that distracted from my frustrations. "There’s also the way you walk...”

“My walk?”

"The gait of a man or woman can reveal much. When deep in thought, you pace a few feet to the right, straight, then come back, making a vague rectangle. It appears you do so out of habit. I wager your quarters at home was terribly smaller than the dormitories here. Something the size of a storage closet." Sullivan's face deflated like a balloon with each deduction. I pressed on. "Considering your aptitude, it would seem the academy has taken you as a scholarship student and views you as a charitable cause. Take a poor girl with promise, fill the required quota, and assign her chores that no girl from High Society would do, like feeding and cleaning the horses... Am I mistaken?”

Her small, pink lips trembled. She squeezed her eyes shut and in pitiable whisper confirmed my deductions. “All of it... I-it's true. Without the academy… it's my only chance for my education. If the other girls knew...”

"They would treat you like an outcast."

The raven haired girl gave a feeble nod.

"Say nothing of this matter, and I promise not to tell a soul. Else, I'm afraid you force my hand."

“Too late for that,” came a snarl.

I jerked backwards. Damnation.

Angelica and Alice emerged from Bellismo's stall, clutching fencing swords. They stood side by side, their faces drenched with betrayal.

“I knew you were different," said Angelica. "There was always something peculiar about you... "

"You lied to us, Sullivan," said Alice.

“I-I didn’t, Alice. I mean you never asked if—“

“I'm afraid you lost the privilege of calling us by our first names. You will address us as Miss Kingsley and Miss Develigne herein.” With cold indifference, Angelica stepped towards Sullivan and with the tip of her sabre, snatched the blue ring from the petite girl. "Who did you thieve this from? It hardly suits a sewer rat."

A single tear streaked down Sullivan's cheek. I held out a hand, a barrier between Sullivan and Angelica.

Angelica's eyes glinted in challenge. She grabbed Alice's sabre and threw it at my feet.

"Well, aren't you going to protect her honor?" she said, sweetly mocking. Even without my answer, Angelica discarded her outerwear until she was left in a corset, long underskirt, and boots. She pointed her back foot to the side in an en garde stance. Her sabre pointed at me.

I scowled and undid the irksome buttons of my coat, then tossed my outer things to Sullivan.

The girl reluctantly caught it. "Is this quite necessary?"

"Quiet," said Alice. "Leave them to it."

I reached for the fencing sword.

Angelica lunged.

The flat edge of her sword grazed my thigh, and I stumbled backward. The girl was quick on her feet, her hits sharp, sleek, and direct. Effortlessly, she swerved around my hits. The only strikes I managed to issue was against the blade of her own sword. The sound of our sabres clashed. Snow crunched under our feet. Our breaths tumbled.

Her panting lips unfurled into a smile. She swept my legs from under me and I found myself sprawled on the ground. Gently, the tip of her sabre pressed against my heaving chest.

“Looks like I win.”

I breathed hard. “Hardly a victory when the one fencing for years challenges a beginner in order to stroke their ego. It's more pitiable than anything else.” I considered her glare carefully. "A bet would be fairer in determining a true victor. Care to wager one?"

"What are you on about?" Angelica snapped.

"A game of chance," I replied, fixing her a cool stare. "With a deck of cards." I pulled out a Funtom box of cards. "If I win, you'll leave Sullivan alone."

Her eyes glimmered at the ring held. "Very well. And if I win I'll inform the whole school about that little blowse and take this pretty ring."

"I rather publish your rubbish manuscript before giving you that ring."

Angelica's mouth dropped. "You...read my manuscript?"

"Unfortunately," I said with a sigh. "It was only a few pages. I could not assail my mind further."

Angelica went red in the face. "I had Harold deliver it to local publishers. Never thought it'd get into your hands."

"I've decided to expand my toy company into FunTomes publishing. Though I'm questioning if that was a prudent choice after stumbling across obscenely pretentious manuscripts like yours."

"Why...you...you bi—"

"Now, now, don't jeopardize this wonderful, possibly one in a lifetime, opportunity for yourself."

"If I win I'll divulge Sullivan's secret, get that stone, and have my manuscript published," she snapped.

"You drive a hard bargain, Develigne... well, I suppose it makes the game all the more interesting."

"Cielle, what are you doing?" Sullivan regarded me with pink rimmed eyes.

"Seeing this debacle is partly my fault, I figured I'd make amends." I paused and murmured into her ear, "Watching Angelica carry about like this makes my moral fibre unravel a bit."

Sullivan sniffed. "I did not think you had a moral fibre. You better not lose."

"I have never lost a game." I graced Angelica and Alice with my most charming smile. "Shall we start? I'll be dealer." I showed Angelica the rules of our game. "Here are three cards—two Queens and a Joker—that I'll place face down. Now, choose a card, but don't turn it over."

Angelica selected the one in the middle.

"Now," I said, turning my attention to the other two face down cards. "Since I know what's under all three cards, I'll reveal one of the Queens." Angelica raised her brow as I flipped the card over. "And now..." I pointed to the face down card Angelica selected and the other face down card. "Clearly, one is a Queen, the other is an Joker. If the your card is the Queen, you'll get a point. We'll do this ten times. If you select more Queens than Jokers, you will be the winner." My lips slowly curved. "Moreover, you may also choose to switch to the other face down card if you wish."

Angelica smiled. "Fine. It's simply a game of chance... 50/50. Nothing more to it."

"Exactly so." The girl was already playing into my hands. Of course, I would play fairly. No cheating. I wouldn't need to resort to such elementary tactics for someone of her caliber.

"I choose my card, of course," she said, gazing at the two face down cards.

"As you wish." I turned up her pick. A queen.

As Angelica tittered, Sullivan flashed me a nervous look.

We moved to the next round. Again, I placed the three cards face down. This time Angelica selected the one on the right. Like before, I gave her the option to go with her chosen face down card or switch with the other face down. Not surprisingly, she chose her own.

Queen again.

I lowered my eyes as Angelica and Alice balked with laughter.

Amused, I made a show of frustration. Furrowing my brows, chewing my lip, curling and uncurling my hands. The key to a convincing performance was to make it believable. Judging from Sullivan's stricken face, I was doing the job quite nicely.

As our game progressed, Angelica's winning streak declined. "You can't win them all naturally," she said to Alice. Two more turns passed, and her composure unraveled. With each loss, she grew more and more incensed. I tightly pressed my lips together, controlling the laughter that threatened to spill from them.

"You're doing something!" Alice accused.

"Yes, I'm merely enjoying how horribly this game has gone for your friend."

When, she realized she had lost, Angelica threw her cards into Sullivan's face and stood up with force. Her fists trembled at her sides.

I lazily collected the blue stoned ring. "Looks like no one will have the ill fortune of reading that horrendous manuscript of yours. The publishing world thanks you."

"This isn't over, Cielle. You'll have your comeuppance—you, and that little witch." Her gaze cut through Sullivan. "Come, Alice!" Angelica practically yanked the other's girls arm as the duo fled from the game.

When they went out of sight, I released my pent up laughter, almost forgetting Sullivan's presence.

"Cielle!"

I laughed long and hard. The last time I had done so seemed like eons ago. I wiped a tear from my eye. "Ah...that was excellent. I truly needed that. Thank you, Sullivan."

Sullivan did not look pleased. "It is unbecoming to take such pleasure in someone's loss after cheating."

I put a hand to my chest. "It wounds me that you think of me so lowly. I did not cheat. I merely used probability."

"You didn't?" Sullivan stared with great intensity at the cards. Her hand flew to her mouth. "You really did play fairly. Or at least...mathematically. To the mere observer's it appears to be a game of 50/50, but in actuality, the player only has 1/3 chance of winning if they don't switch their chosen card... not 1/2." Her grin broadened. "In other words, instead of a 67% chance of winning, Angelica only had 33%."

"Precisely."

"But how did you know that she'd keep her card and not switch? That could have ruined everything."

"Human psychology is a curious thing, Sullivan. Do you honestly believe that an egotistical person like Angelica, who believes she and her choices are always superior to others, would select the card I offered her over her own hand-picked card? It simply goes to show you that following logic and rationality is far preferable than following one’s blinded intuition."

"I don't know if I should be amazed or horrified of that gamble."

"Be both," I said as we exited the courtyard through one of the four doors permitting entrance inside. Stepping on the raised floorboard, I turned to face Sullivan with a puckered smile. "Though a part of me is sorry that my mental abilities were wasted on the likes of—"

"Cielle, look out!"

I tripped on the floorboard and collided headfirst into a tall frame.

"Are you blind?" came a stern voice.

"I didn't see where I was going, okay..." I muttered. Pushing the hair out of my face, I glanced up into the displeased face of... a faculty member. The man looked to be in his thirties, with broad shoulders and thin streaks of grey gracing his chestnut coloured hair. Sporting a light dusting of a beard, he looked passably attracted for his age.

It took a moment to find my voice. "Sorry, professor," I blustered. "My friend and I were just heading to... " I caught Sullivan silently waving her hands at a nearby entrance. "The library."

"The library you say?" Disdain riddled his features as he spoke. The professor removed his blue steeled spectacles, and my vision met his. Gleaming, his dark eyes held the warmth of the swirling arctic sea. For a brief instant, I felt strangely disoriented.

"Frankly, I do not mind the lie," he said crisply. "It is the insult to my intelligence that bothers me."

My cheeks must've went scarlet.

"I suppose I'll overlook your misstep if you truly are going to the library now," he said. "Heavens knows, it might do you wonders."

That poncy bastard.

"Of course. Please excuse us, professor." Sullivan gave a bow to the vile professor. "It won't happen again."

Before my anger could get the best of me, Sullivan dragged me through the library entrance.

I balled up my hands. "Who the bloody hell does he think he is?"

"Language, Cielle!" she whispered, stealing a glance over her shoulder.

"Whom the bloody hell does he think he is?"

Sullivan smacked my arm. "You ought to be more careful here, Cielle. The professors are extremely strict. A few even believe in flogging."

"A pity." I could think of far better ways to use a riding crop.

I ambled into the library, greeted by the comforting smell of musty pages and quiet rustle of pages.

"While we're here, perhaps we can check out a few books?" Sullivan crossed her arms and crinkled her nose. "If you are to blackmail me, it is the least you could."

I suppose couldn't refuse the hopeless book-bosomed girl this simple request. Especially after I subjugated her to my distasteful deductions earlier. "Fine, but hurry up..."

While the raven haired girl scampered into the classics aisle, I placed my bags on a desk and took my seat. My gaze drifted to a newspaper on the desk. I read the front headline.

Her Majesty's Diadem Stolen from Jewel House.

I sat up straight and skimmed the article. To complicate affairs, the Yard revealed that Irene Diaz has escaped from their custody, substantiating she is likely the culprit of this theft. The Yard has issued a warrant for her arrest and urges anyone who may have leads on the stolen diadem to come forward.

Incompetent as ever. If only the poor lot knew I had housed the so called thief at my manor. I smirked and lowered the paper.

Between tall tomes of books, I glimpsed a librarian pacing towards the Commissioner Randall's—that is, the headmaster's secretary. An anxious look marred her features. Grabbing a random stack of books from a cart, I made my way to them, concealing my face behind the books. When I had neared enough, I disposed of the books and hid behind one of the bookcases, peeking through the shelf.

"Miss Hulda, it's happened again."

"Another missing book?"

"I'm afraid so. It's from another collection that is not in circulation. Just like before."

Hulda swore.

"Cielle?" Sullivan whispered behind me. I jumped.

"Don't do that!'

She spied the two women from my vantage point. "Now what are you doing?"

"Eavesdropping clearly," I hissed.

"Anything good?" Sullivan crouched beside me and took in the curious scene.

"The headmaster won't be happy to hear that," Hulda murmured. "I still haven't told him about the other missing book."

The librarian looked unnerved. "You won't need to. That book... was returned today."

"What? Do you think this is some practical joke by one of the students?"

"Maybe. If they access to the key to the back room."

"What's in the back room?" I whispered to Sullivan.

"That's where they keep the books that are not in circulation. Books with objectionable content, valuable items that are irreplaceable, or old books need to be handled delicately. Some came with the old building before the headmaster refurnished it into an academy. Students aren't allowed to take such books, of course." A bitter tinge filled Sullivan's voice. "I've tried."

I returned my attention to the two women.

Hulda crossed her arms. "Well, which one has this book thief taken now?"

"See for yourself."

"This one? How peculiar..."

The two women huddled over a sheet of paper that I presumed had the title of interest.

"May I help you ladies?"

Slowly, Sullivan and I turned. A stern librarian's face hovered between ours. Blast. She regarded us through her spectacles hanging from her neck, disapproval gleaming in her eyes.

"Just looking for a book," I said, then cringed.

"You don't say."

"We'd like to check these out," Sullivan said, pointing to the stack of books she had placed on a nearby cart.

The librarian eyed us with with wariness but gestured to the front desk. I gratefully accepted the half a dozen books Sullivan handed me. As the librarian stamped Sullivan's book, a German fairytale titled The Six Swans, my gaze drifted to the key set near the librarian's wrist. Perhaps I could pocket it. One of them had to open the back room.

"Well?" The librarian had finished stacking Sullivan and caught me staring at the key set. Eyeing me with distrust, she took the keys and placed them into her pocket. Then, she motioned to me. Bother...

As I pushed the books towards her, I caught a fellow walking towards me, his pace brisk as though he was late for something. He balanced a tall stack of tomes which blocked his face. He brushed past me, skimming my shoulders. I flinched on reflex. My pile of books teetered dangerously along the edge of the desk and spilled upon the desk... and the floor. My eyes flashed to the horrid professor from before. He had turned behind his shoulder for a fleeting second. From his side profile, I could've sworn I saw a shadow of amusement tinge his lips.

"Foolish girl!"

"We're terribly sorry," Sullivan squeaked to the librarian.

I swept down to retrieve the fallen tomes. Quickly recovering, I made my way back to the desk, eager to be out of this space. I reached for my bag when I stopped in my tracks.

"Cielle?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Someone's been through my bag."

"How can you be sure?"

"As I'm left-handed, I always leave my bag on the left side of my desk, not the right." I snatched the bag and rummaged through it. My books were out of ordered. Moreover... I pointed to an silver pencil case that was ajar a crack. I opened it fully and narrowed my gaze. Nestled among my fountain pens and stationery lay two artifacts that did not belong to me. A typewritten note and a small, translucent rectangular box with a padlock. Inside its clear glass was a golden key, the only way to retrieve it I assumed was to enter the correct password into the padlock.

Sullivan bristled with curiosity as I pulled out the note. We read it together:

One who comes from a family of twelve.

One who is the second and youngest as well.

Dreaming of many clocks onthe wall.

And dreamt that I had counted all.

I dreamed a dozen often, my dear.

How many clocks did appear?

Tick, tock, time is ticking so make haste.

You’ll need these if you wish to solve the case.

7891011 12

"What case?" Sullivan asked me. "And what do those numbers mean?" Her bright eyes bore into my own, unnerving me.

"Nothing," I said dismissively. "It must be some juvenile prank."

"You don't really believe that, do you? The padlock has a combination of letters and numbers, and it seems that entering the right ones will open the compartment to the key. I wonder what the key is for..."

"As do I." Of course, I had my theories to what the key opened, but I decided not to divulge that information to Sullivan. Instead, I pointed to the riddles. "Care to assist me in solving them?"

Sullivan's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "Of course, I could never resist a good riddle."

Perhaps befriending this girl would prove useful after all. I handed her the riddle.

"It looks like the first riddle gives you a word, and the second riddle gives you a number." I fiddled with the padlock and stared at the slots: __ __ __ __ __ __. "It has six spaces, the first three only have letter options, and the last three only have numbers, so that means the first riddle should give us a three letter answer that we can input into the padlock, and the second riddle will give us a three digit answer."

Sullivan nodded and recited the first riddle. "One who comes from a family of twelve. One who is the second and youngest as well."

"That doesn't make sense," I murmured. "It is highly unlikely for one to be from a family of twelve, be the second born, and be the youngest. Maybe we should first find things that come in groups of twelve."

"A baker's dozen, 12 ounces in a Troy pound, and 12 levels on the Beaufort Scale," said Sullivan. "Oh! And 12 animals in the Chinese cycle of year, 12 labours of Hercules, and 12 Olympians."

"There is also 12 face cards in a deck of cards and 12 pitch classes in an octave," I added. "Not to mention the 12 apostles," I said, my mind flashing to Jane's art book of the Last Supper.

"That's good! What else? There's 12 inches in a foot, 12 months in a year—" Sullivan gasped. "It's the 12 months in a year, Cielle!" She waved the note in excitement. "A family of twelve, one who is second and youngest, don't you see?"

"February," I supplied. My pulse sped up. "And since we can only enter a three letter answer, it must be shortened to FEB."

Sullivan clapped her hands together. "My thoughts exactly. Now, the last riddle... sounds like a math puzzle."

"I dreamed a dozen often, my dear. How many clocks did appear?" My brows furrowed at the lines. "If the person dreamed of a dozen clocks, then the obvious answer is 12 clocks. That seems too easy, though. Plus, according to the padlock, we must find a three digit answer, so 12 wouldn't even work."

We read the riddle again, and this time, I noticed something new. "Sullivan, look at that line: Dreaming of many clocks onthe wall. The sender omitted a space between 'on' and 'the' - I think it's an intentional typo."

"Are you certain? I wonder if they made any other typo like that." She scanned the note along with me. I found no other typos, but her eyes were shining. "There is a typo, a hidden one. Look here: Dreaming of many clocks onthe wall. The typo is 'onthe', right? There should be a space between 'on' and 'the'; well, what if in I dreamed a dozen often, my dear, the typo is 'often' - maybe it follows the same pattern of the previous typo so 'often' is really 'of ten.'"

"Sullivan, you're brilliant. If the corrected line is I dreamed a dozen of ten, that means the person dreamed a dozen of ten, or 12 x 10."

"Yes, 120 should be the three digit answer. May I, Cielle?"

"Please do the honours, Sullivan. It would've taken me ages to figure it out without your help."

With her small, trembly fingers, Sullivan entered the letters and numbers until the padlock read FEB120. I watched in nervous anticipation as the lock opened and Sullivan recovered the golden key from its confines. She deposited the key into my hands and gave me ones of her probing looks again. "Are you positive you don't know what it goes for?"

"Not a clue," I lied as I threw the solved riddles into a nearby trash receptacle. My steeled gaze wandered across the library, skimming over book-bosomed girls and landing on the vile professor. The librarian had just finished checking out an impressive stack of books for him. Carrying it in his long, steady hands, he caught a glimpse of me over the top of the books. I jerked my head away, but not before I caught a flicker of something unbidden flit across his features. Pretending he didn't see me, he resumed his pace, heading for the exit.

"Who exactly is that?" I asked acridly.

"Judging from the stack of music theory books, he must be the new music professor," said Sullivan. "The old one quit and teaches at the rival school now."

"You don't say."

Sullivan shrugged. "Quite a few professors left and teach at Eton now."

"Is that so?" I scowled at his shadowy silhouette leaving the library's entrance.

Helping Sullivan carry her stack of books, I meandered through the hallway in pensive thought. When we passed the headmaster's office, Sullivan stopped in her tracks.

"We really ought to tell, Cielle."

Groaning, I peered through the thin glass of the office. The commissioner of Scotland Yard sat hunched over his desk, his face haggard. His eyes shifted restlessly, glancing at some paperwork while he ran both hands through his grey hair. He was worried. No, terrified.

"Fine," I said lowly. "Inform Headmaster Delacourt about the rogue boy but make no mention of the blue ring."

"But why not?"

"Criminy, do you always ask these many questions?"

"You can't solve a problem if you do not ask the right questions. Maybe you can't answer me now... But I hope you will. You can trust me, Cielle."

"Trust?" I said with a laugh. "Others will let you down in this life. Just look at how your so called friends betrayed you, Sullivan. Promises will be broken. Lies will be told. I've learned the hard way that the only person you can truly trust is yourself. And sometimes barely that."

"Oh, Cielle..."

"Don't poke your nose where it doesn't belong." Stepping towards her, I gazed hard at her face. "And do not ask questions that you do not want answers to."

"Tell me what's going on," she whispered.

I didn't reply.

"Does it... have something to do with your cousin?" She searched my face and then focused on Lizzie's gemstone bracelet circling my wrist. "She hasn't shown up today either...along with a few other girls."

Damn her observance. "I-I have literature soon. I must go."

"Cielle, wait!"

Ignoring her, I hurried to my class and heaved a long breath. I didn't know how long I could dodge the girl's incessant questions at this rate.

I was almost eager for literature to begin and provide me distraction. The distraction that did come, however, wasn't one I had in mind. We had the droll task of reading J. Sheridan LeFanu's Carmilla. A tale of a beautiful female vampire who preyed on a teenage girl named Laura.

Jane sat a few desks away from me, diligently taking notes as the professor lectured. After the awkward incident that occurred in her room, Jane had said nary a word to me. I didn't particularly care.

As the professor droned on about symbolism of the piece, I made a pretense of taking notes in my notebook. In actuality, I was scribbling various ciphers of my own. If the culprit wanted to play with ciphers, fine. I'd give him a cipher of my own to toy with.

"Why Miss Phantomhive," said the professor, "you seem to be writing a novel back there."

Bollocks. I quickly flipped to a clean sheet of paper.

"Since you seem so keen about the material, perhaps you can continue reading Laura's narrative for us. Take it from chapter four please."

"Of course." I cleared my throat. "I experienced a strange tumultuous excitement that was pleasurable, ever and anon, mingled with a vague sense of fear and disgust. I had no distinct thought about her while such scenes lasted, but I was conscious of a love growing into adoration, and also of abhorrence... " A sick feeling gnawed at me. "This I know is paradox, but I can make no other attempt to explain the feeling..."

"Nicely emoted. Can anyone tell me what is the significance of this scene?"

Jane's hand shot up. "I think it means... while Laura has conflicting emotions for Carmilla, the narrator can’t deny her fascination and attraction towards the monster. This scene illustrates Laura's desire—and hesitance—to engage in a taboo relationship. Meanwhile the vampire seeks a physical consummation of her love and ends up falling for her victim, Laura. Carmilla implies that for them to become one, Laura must die. To drink Laura’s blood is to become one with her forever."

"Yes, exactly so. Thank you for that analysis, Miss Greyling. If you would continue, Miss Phantomhive. Same chapter, page 100."

I swallowed a wave of nausea. "Sometimes after an hour of apathy, my strange and beautiful companion would take my hand and hold it with a fond pressure, renewed again and again; gazing in my face with languid and burning eyes, and breathing so fast... It was like the ardor of a lover; it embarrassed me; it was hateful and yet over-powering; and with gloating eyes she drew me to her…” I stopped reading, my breath quickening.

"Miss Phantomhive, is everything all right?"

"I...may I use the lavatory? I suddenly am feeling unwell."

"Yes, please do so. Would you like someone to escort you?"

"I'll go with her." Jane stood from her desk, a concerned expression on her face.

"No, that's alright. I can manage." I needed to get away from this class. From her. From him.

When I made it to the lavatory, I clutched the sides of the sink and panted. I despised that story of Carmilla. How Laura was sucked in by that creature's beautiful and terrible mask. How the monster pursued its prey to no end... I abhorred it all. Partly because Laura's sentiments resonated as though they were my very own.

After visiting the dining hall for a light supper—Vienna pudding and a semolina soup— I closeted myself in my dorm. Due to my episode in literature, I did not attend the rest of my classes for the day and was forced to spend the next few hours finishing my missed assignments.

A soft knock disrupted my pluperfect conjugations for Latin. I sighed. "Come in."

Jane.

"I came to check if you are feeling better," said the head-girl. "And give you the notes on Carmilla you missed in class."

"How considerate of you," I said, veiling any sarcasm in my tone. "Yes, I am feeling much better. Would you like to take a seat?"

"I really shouldn't." Jane's gaze drifted to my bed, and a tinge of pink suffused her cheeks. "But if you insist..." She ambled into my room, a sweet floral scent cloying behind her. To my surprise she seated herself on my four poster and crossed her long, shapely leg over the other, beckoning me. "Since you weren't feeling well, I took the liberty of collecting your mail," she said. "A letter from your estate. I thought I'd personally see to its delivery."

"Thank you, Miss Greyling."

"Jane," she corrected as I sat down beside her.

"Jane."

"Better." She leaned in and deposited a crispy, cream coloured envelope on my lap. "How goes the case?"

"Found some points of interest, but nothing conclusive," I replied vaguely.

"It's like Carmilla abducted those poor missing girls."

"Pardon?"

"I hope this doesn't sound too forward of me," she started. "But you seem like you really hated that story in literature." She laughed. "Why, It's almost as if you met Carmilla in person."

I furrowed my brows at the envelope. "I've met worse than Carmilla."

"Have you now?" She eyed the smooth, elaborate penmanship on the paper. "Who is it from?"

"...My butler."

"I see," Jane whispered. Her gaze darkened at the blue postage stamp of Queen Victoria. She looked like she regretted the gesture of collecting my mail. As the uncomfortable silence lengthened, I found a means of changing the subject. I stared at the hem of her skirt.

"You've a stain there."

She sighed, the moment passing. "From one of my experiments, no doubt."

"And that?" I pointed to her inner forearm which had a small, purplish bruise I had not noticed before.

"Also from my experiments. It is not the first time a bunsen burner has done me in." She quickly rose from the four poster. "Well, I best continue on before they make us turn off our lights."

I forced a smile. "I have no doubt you'll conjure up a perfume that's one of a kind."

The head-girl brought a finger to her lips and winked.

I took some relief when the door closed behind her. I stared at the familiar signature on the letter, my saliva thickening. Just open it already it. My fingers ripped into the envelope, and I scanned the missive.

To my young mistress,

I trust your first day has gone without too much trouble. As per your instructions, I have investigated the rival academy. The headmistress seems consumed in her preparations of the masquerade ball that is days away. She is intent on making this an eventful occasion. It may interest you that she used to be in the gemstone business prior starting her school and has an impressive personal collection of gems. She pays the faculty quite handsomely as well, though I believe it may be a ploy to recruit faculty from Imperial Academy. It is as Commissioner Randall implied, she seems to have personal agenda against him. Perhaps it is something from their childhood as I've discovered her last name prior marriage was Delacourt. The records suggest the headmaster of Imperial Academy and headmistress of Eton are siblings.

My eyes widened. The commissioner conveniently forgot to mention that detail. Was there that much bad blood between them now? So much so that the headmistress would be involved in the kidnapping of Isabella Delacourt, her own niece? Madame Red's wild eyes flitted in my mind. That night in the alley...a knife in hand... She had attempted to attack her own niece, hadn't she?

Somberly, I read on as he listed the mundane errands he had completed pertaining to Funtoms, Mr. Noble, and the estate. My fingers tightened on the parchment. I searched in between the lines for a single drop of emotion. I failed to find it. Each sentence was written with professional indifference. Of course. What were you expecting—? My heart thumped as the letter neared its end.

"...otherwise, the manor has been dull without the young mistress. It is with reluctance that I admit that I was a touch vexed when I left you at the academy. I ask your forgiveness in the light of recent events, especially if I have given you any displeasure. I do not wish for you to see the form that speaks badly of my reputation. Until the day truth becomes lies, I devote my entire being to please my mistress. I should very much look forward to your presence soon and regaining your favour."

Yours,

Sebastian.

Something stirred deep within me. That feeling that was equal parts exhilaration and abhorrence which Laura spoke of. His words struck some chord within me that resounded beautifully for a fleeting moment before transforming into a harsh tritone. How easy it was to be swept away by beguiling words like sweet poison. He would do anything for me, and yet he would be my demise. Even more problematic was the fact that he was...different these days. At first, I attributed to a figment of my imagination, but I knew better. I was no simpleton. Bits and pieces of his demonic nature were seeping through the cracks. Hellfire eyes and the image of a ripped corset made me shudder.

Despite that, I devoured those few lines he had written over and over, as though I would find something anew in them. And when I held up the envelope again, my foolish mind thought it found that something. The blue postage stamp was affixed on envelope at the top right corner with a peculiar tilt. I was no stranger to postage code. In private affairs, a sender could use stamps to encode messages to the receiver. My cheeks burned. This mode of communication was particularly rampant among clandestine lovers.

This particular stamp relayed, I am longing to see you.

He had done this on purpose. He wanted to drive me mad. To tease me, to tempt me, to make me react. He knew that I'd either chalk out this gesture to be nothing at all. Or everything.

"Damn demon," I whispered. Like a moth to flame, I trailed the florid signature with my finger. I brought it to my trembling lips and repeated that cursed name like a litany. "Sebastian..."

Control your heart, whispered a treacherous voice in my mind.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and drew in a sharp breath. I couldn't allow sentiment to cloud my reply. No, that's exactly what he would have wanted.

Sebastian,

Asking my forgiveness for such matters is unnecessary and a moot point. We both know you've given me much displeasure since the moment I've met you, but I've grown quite used to it by now. I confess I am curious about that last bit—how exactly do you intend to regain my favour?

My first day at the academy has been... interesting to say the least. Wagers, spying, blackmail, racing stallions, encountering 7891011-12 in person, and reading Carmilla are all in a day's work. You've reported some intriguing information on the case, though I'm afraid we're missing the bigger, more tangible pieces. Like the ripped pages of alchemy Lizzie had supposedly sent. Keep at it. Speaking of gems, I trust Miss Diaz has not left the manor. The same multi-stoned diadem she attempted to thief that night has gone missing. Investigate that in addition to your other duties."

That would do. The tone was casual, business-like. And utterly lacking. A restlessness came over me. Reluctantly, I unfurled the letter I had just written. Against my better judgement, I added one more line.

In other news, I rather confess I am missing teatime at the manor. The sweets here are none like yours—Cielle."

Before I could have a change of heart, I stashed the letter inside the envelope, placed the stamp at the same angle as his, and delivered it the mailing room that was seen to each morning.

By now, night had come down, and Hulda started making her rounds, ensuring all lights were out. When her footsteps sounded past my door, I paused my writing and waited an extra twenty minutes for good measure before putting my plan into action. While I waited, I finished my cipher and strategically placed the scrap of parchment in the crevice of my door.

With the blue stoned ring in my possession, I was certain that the mysterious boy would return for it and do a thorough search of the place. Sooner or later, he'd stumble upon my pigpen cipher. I had already placed one in the lavatory, one in the courtyard, the library, and other places I had visited today. The cipher stated:

. -

Used by freemasons in the 18th century, the tic-tac-toe-like cipher was a geometric simple substitution cipher. Letters were exchanged for symbols which formed fragments of a grid. Any serious cipherist worth their salt would know of it, yet it was uncommon enough that if anyone else noticed the paper, it would simply look like some innocuous school girl game.

I used the same code the freemasons used to encrypt the code:

When decoded, my message simply read: I have the stone. Let us meet—CP.

Somewhere an old clock chimed twelve times, heralding the witching hour. Kerosene lamp in hand, I crept out of my dorm, pushing the door centimeter by centimeter to avoid loud creaks. A dim light emerged from Jane's room. It appeared she had stuffed the crevice of the door with clothing, but a silver of candlelight had escaped. Faint tinkering sounded behind the door, and I caught a sweet floral fragrance and a subtle burning scent that often accompanied bunsen burners. Jane must have been up to her so called unladylike pursuits of fragrance making.

I returned my attention in to the quiet hallway. The flickering candelabras provided me sufficient light to wander. Cloaked in the shadows, I stayed close to the walls, walking in tune with my shadow. With each room I passed, I discerned light snores, pages flipped in secrecy, soft giggles and telltale whisperings followed by the creaking of bed springs.

Taking the short cut to the library, I used the outside pathway. Though the night air chilled me to the core, I wouldn't run into any faculty on nightly rounds by this route. Bright clusters of stars hung like fruits on a tree and shadowy clouds parted, unveiling an almost full moon in its silvery glory. Despite the night skies' beauty, it only served as a reminder of my impending time limit to find the missing girls. I passed through the frostbitten rose garden, and my ears pricked up. Was that a crack of a twig? I whirled around and narrowed my eyes. Snow covered trees bent together in a wind as though whispering their secrets to each other, but all else was still.

Shivering, I continued through the courtyard and slipped into the hallway that led to the library. Adjusting my cloak so that it covered my head, I crept through the library's main entrance, slinking into the shadows. Save for the small sphere of illumination from my lamp, darkness claimed the space. It was strange being here. An unearthly stillness hung over the place. I had never stepped foot inside an empty library when the rest of the world had fallen fast asleep. When books became the rightful owners of the library and bibliophiles felt like trespassers. I raised my lamp in front of my face, the glow bathing tomes upon tomes in a flickering light.

I followed the light in front of me as it led me to the back room. Raising the lamp, I turned and twisted the door knob with my other. Of course. Locked.

Stealing a glance over my shoulder, I fished out the golden key and twisted it into the lock. The key fit like a glove, clicking with ease. Holding my breath, I opened the door and swept into the space like an unseen spectre.

Moonlight from the small diamond paned windows spilled upon hundreds and hundreds of books, the ethereal glow making them look alive. Locating the right book would be like finding a needle in mountain of a haystack. I scavenged through spines with flaking gold letters, old newspapers in Cyrillic, atlases of vanished countries, and Bengali poetry books with delicate rosettes. A sweet earthy smell billowed from the archaic pages, and I coughed. Half an hour went by like this, and I still found nothing of interest.

"For Pete's sake." I unceremoniously shoved a signed first edition of The Picture of Dorian Gray back into the shelf. Rubbing my temples, I leaned against a bookcase and stared at the key illuminated by my lamp. The light washed over the intricately designed handle, making it gleam like true gold. When it flickered along the stem of the key, I inhaled a sharp breath. Barely visible, I caught something scratched out, barely etching the surface of the metallic paint. I inspected it closer and saw scratched out marks read: C12P666P2.

It looked like sort of a book cipher.The concept was first introduced to me in recent Sherlock Holmes story by Mr. Wordsmith, i.e. Dr. Arthur. The P likely referred to a page number, C the chapter, and the other P might reference a paragraph. In that case I was looking for a thick book—one that had at least 666 pages. As I scrutinized the page number I frowned. That's odd. What was the need of including a chapter number if one already had the page number? Unless... C12 didn't refer to a chapter.

I raised the lamp against a bookshelf. At the very top, the number '5' was etched into the wood. I surveyed the nearby bookcases. All of them were all numbered. My heart skipped a beat. If C12 referred to 'Column 12', then I might stand a chance of finding that book. I located the column with '12' and skimmed the shelves. My eyes wandered along the length of the bookcase and stilled. Only one book looked thick enough to fit the bill. The book in question lay an inch forward than the surrounding books. It was almost as if someone wanted to make certain I'd pick it up.

I stretched my arm. Blast, the book was too high. The culprit was mocking me dearly.

Glad no one else could see my pitiable display, I jumped into the air. Missing my mark, I jumped again and grabbed the book, then blundered to the floor. I swore under my breath. Irately, I stared at the filigreed book in my hand. It was heavy and thick, though the vellum binding felt delicate and soft. I traced my hand along the emerald cover, taking in the gilded hermetic illustrations and spidery gothic styled title—The Mirror of Alchemy. A sliver of moonlight spilled upon the author's name. I blinked hard, my hands freezing in place. No... it couldn't be.

Baselius Phantomhivus?

The latinised name stared back at me. My surname. I took a strangled breath, the question burning in my mind.

Was one of the Phantomhive descendants. . . an alchemist?

Notes:

Author notes:

When I was in college, one of my professors went over the infamous Monty Hall problem in stats and we all got a kick out of it. It was a popular game show problem in the 90s that got many people - even PhDs in a tizzy. If any numberphiles are intrigued by how flipping a queen when you have only two face down cards - a queen and joker - is NOT 50/50, check out https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Lb-6rxZxx0

As many of you guys already know, my first book, "Alice in Winterland: A Fangirl Novel", is out! You can read the first chapter HERE ^^ Right now, it's an ebook but paperbacks release in Nov!

Chapter 11: The Twelve Keys

Notes:

Apologies for the hiatus! Grad school, work, and various writing projects have consumed most of my time the past few months. I'm glad I have some down time this summer to work on this fic again. Hope you enjoy it! <3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

I flipped through the musty pages slowly, as though they might crumble in dust. My eyes scanned the alchemical text. So the book's author, Basel Phantomhive, had practiced alchemy. I vaguely recalled Aunt Francis once mention how her great-great grandmother was rumoured to be a prodigy chemist in her day. If alchemy provided the framework of modern chemistry, perhaps the connection could be made. Maybe the descendant in question had gained knowledge that was passed down the Phantomhive lineage as alchemy evolved into chemistry. The notion seemed utterly absurd, yet I couldn't dismiss it. This couldn't be a mere coincidence... Phantomhive was an uncommon name after all.

"Damn it," I whispered under my breath.

Hoping to put some order to my reeling thoughts, I flipped to page 666 encoded in the cipher. From the long, arduous Latin lessons under Sebastian's tutelage, I knew Clavis 1 translated to the 'first key'. Titled "The Twelve Keys", the page contained a continuation of Basel Phantomhive's twelve keys. Each 'key' started with a zodiac symbol, but that wasn't the most curious bit of it all. Half the page was ripped.

VII Clavis - Cibation - After the matter in the vessels dries, wet it until a mild heat emi

VIII Clavis- Sublimation - Extraction by distillation. Release attachments and free the soul

IX Clavis - Fermentation - Add the precious metal to the elixir until the dark night

X Clavis -Exaltation- Regain purity of the soul and transmute the substanc

XI Clavis - Multiplication - The solar light shall dawn and awaken thee, raising amounts

XII Clavis - Projection - Behold the work of transmutation, merging of ego and Self, the prized elix

Instinct gripped me at once. I reached into my pockets, and with a shaking hand, retrieved the jagged edged page Lizzie had sent in the parcel earlier. I flattened out the wrinkles and pieced the torn page into the book. It fit perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle.

I read the sentences now.

VII Clavis - Cibation - After the matter in the vessels dries, wet it until a mild heat emits and mix it with the salt of the philosophers.

VIII Clavis- Sublimation - Extraction by distillation. Release attachments and free the soul into the night.

IX Clavis - Fermentation - Add the precious metal to the elixir until the dark night returns the reconverted soul to the body.

X Clavis -Exaltation- Regain purity of the soul and transmute the substance using the heat of Venus.

XI Clavis - Multiplication - The solar light shall dawn and awaken thee, raising amounts of the precious liquid until soul and body are united.

XII Clavis - Projection - Behold the work of transmutation, merged are the ego and Self, and the prized elixir is created.

The 12 keys described here clearly referred to traditional alchemy...Calcination, dissolution, separation, conjunction, putrefaction, congelation, cibation, sublimation, fermentation, exaltation, multiplication, and projection. As I read the twelve steps which spoke about transmutating the soul, I gathered the text spoke of a spiritual alchemy as well. As I turned the next few pages, I saw that each of the twelve steps was elaborated into a paragraph with distinct alchemical drawings.

"What on earth...?" I said breathlessly.

A foreign language of symbols assailed me. Clavis I featured a King on the left, holding up three fingers, a Queen on the right, holding a stem with three flowers, and a peacock feather fan. In the front was a creature that looked like a dog or wolf jumping over a triangular crucible and an old man with a scythe and crippled leg. The second key was no less baffling. A winged Mercury held a caduceus in each hand and stood between two men in a sword fight. Approaching from the left was a man with a serpent twined sword, while from the right featured another man with a sword, upon which a bird had perched itself. In the background, the Sun hovered at the left and the and Moon to the right. I knew it was pointless, but I looked to Clavis III, the third key, hoping to glean some clarity. To my disappointment, the image had even more perplexing imagery. A winged dragon stood amidst a backdrop of high mountains. Behind the dragon, was a wolf-like creature holding a bird in its mouth while being attacked by the cockerel riding on its back.

Damnation, what did it all mean? I felt like I was slipping on black ice. Spinning out of control. What a pitiable display for a Phantomhive.

A part of me wanted to call on him, but my ego wouldn't let me dare. I closed my eyes, my mind conjuring a phantasmagoria of dark tendrils. I could hear his voice, a serpent's hiss, as if he stood a mere foot away. His gloved finger tilted my chin up until I saw eyes glowing with equal parts amusement and disappointment. "What is it?" he whispered, his tongue a scarlet snake. "What?"

drew in a sharp breath. Break it down to something simpler.

Alchemy was nothing but chemistry mixed in with discrete symbols, I reasoned. I took a crack at the first key. The King and Queen juxtaposed the sun and moon. I considered the chemical elements, one by one, trying to find a suitable match.. The King and sun evoked a brilliant color of nobility—like gold. Perhaps . . . the King and sun symbolised gold while the Queen and moon signified silver? I studied the King who held up three fingers next to the Queen’s three flowers. It was a stretch, but maybe it described some chemical step that had to be repeated three times. Honestly, I felt like I was grappling with straws. Maybe Sullivan or Jane could elucidate some of the chemistry and symbolism.

Near the margin of each step was not only the small image of a zodiac symbol, but also a small crystalline structure of some sort. How peculiar. The first key had a brownish red solid, then a purple solid for the second, a clear one for the third key, a deep green for the next, then a milky white stone, followed by crimson, etc. The hairs on my neck prickled.

"It can't be..." The connection whipped me in the face. Irene Diaz... the multi-stoned diadem found in her possession described all of these colors: a garnet, amethyst, diamond, emerald, a pearl, ruby, carnelian, sapphire, opal, topaz, and zircon. That meant someone had used the opera singer to procure these 'ingredients' - albeit unsuccessfully. As to why they had thieved from Her Majesty's Jewel House, I surmised they sought after the highly desirable cut, color, and clarity that royal gems could offer.

Any if there were twelve steps and twelve stones...My stomach curdled. Twelve girls will go missing.

"Not if I can help it," I hissed under my breath.

I continued skimming the page. "The 12 keys must be performed when Selene visits the earth on Winter Solstice." Tch. Alchemists... why couldn't they write in the Queen's English?"

I knew well enough one could never take alchemical texts at face value. Everything was cloaked in symbolism and metaphors. From Greek classics, I recalled Selene, the moon goddess who 'visited' the earth during full moons to consort with her beloved prince Endymion. Despite the romantic story, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. The full moon that occurred on Winter Solstice was mere days away—Christmas to be precise.

I swallowed hard. The hourglass of time stood imperiously before me, the grains of sand slipping faster than quicksand. I needed to save Lizzie and the other girls before the full moon.

I tried to decipher more about the ritual for the twelve keys. The very last line on the page read "For every action there is an equal and opp—" The rest of the sentence was discolored by dried liquid, but being familiar with basic scientific principles, I surmised the complete statement read "for every reaction, there is an equal and opposite reaction." How does that help?

I flipped the next dozen pages but could find nothing more on the twelve keys. With nearly 1000 pages describing other alchemical experiments, I wouldn't even attempt the dreadfully dull task of reading them all. It would be like drawing nectar through a sieve. A smirk touched my lips. Unless... I'd delegate that legwork to him.

A gut-wrenching sob pierced the air. "What on earth...?"

I shoved the book into my cloak and escaped like a marauder into the shadows. I stayed close to the walls and followed the trill of voices outside the library. As I neared closer, I heard an explosive exchange.

"H-how dare you—"

"It's not what it looks like," cried a voice.

My brows furrowed. Jane Greyling and Miss Hulda.

"Then what does it look like, Miss Greyling?" Her voice cut the air like a knife.

"I...I can explain."

"Save it for the headmaster tomorrow morning. I'm quite curious to hear what story you'll concoct."

"No... don't." Her voice rose an octave. "I beg you, please, please, do not tell him." I could hear fear coat her usually dulcet tones. "I-I apologize for my transgressions."

Hah! No use in apologizing after being caught like a wagtail. I'd wager these trysts have been recurring... well not anymore! If one of the girls hadn't spotted that disheveled young man sneaking out of your dormitory, you might not be facing expulsion."

Jane hiccuped a tear and fell silent.

"What distasteful behavior, especially for a headgirl. If I were you, I'd start packing tonight."

"It was only a boy from Eton." Jane's voice trembled. "He's asked me to the academy ball."

A sharp, hysterical laugh escaped Hulda. "Miss Greyling, attending the ball is the least of your problems. Consider yourself fortunate if you are still attending the academy tomorrow."

"I'm s-sorry." She swallowed her tears. "Truly, I am."

"So am I. This is out of my hand. Foolish girl, what were you thinking?"

The footsteps grew louder. Bollocks. I blew out the flame in my lamp, and the hall plunged into darkness. I hid behind a long drape that matched the colour of my cloak. The duo arrived into the hall. Closer and closer they walked toward me. Still as a stone, I held my breath as they neared me, a mere foot away from my hiding spot. When the clatter of footsteps tapered, I breathed out in relief. They were nearly out of the hall now.

My hands went slack at my sides, and I felt something slip from my wrist. A cling resounded as Lizzie's bracelet hit the marble floor.

I mentally swore.

Hulda whirled around. "What the dickens is that?"

The din of heels increased their pace. I braced myself as the curtains were drawn with a flourish. Face shadowed by the glow of a candlelight, Hulda glowered at me. I quickly made myself appear catatonic, imitating how I had found Irene Diaz during the thievery incident.

"What is the meaning of this?" Hulda shouted, the veins in her neck rising.

With my eyes heavy-lidded, head slightly lolling to the side, and vacant expression, I gave no answer.

"Miss Phantomive!"

When I still didn't answer and continued my blank stare, the woman shook me by the shoulders.

I blinked rapidly and gasped as I took in my surroundings. Feigning disorientation, I caught my head. "What...what am I doing?"

"That's what I'd like to know," she demanded, arms crossed.

"Oh dear, I fear it's happened again. I'm, er, am prone to somnambulism."

"You sleep-walk?" she said with incredulity. I thought she would berate me when instead came a exasperated sigh. "Oh bother, my nerves cannot handle anymore of these midnight escapades. Follow me back to the dormitories. Both of you."

I suppose my whatever shenanigans Hulda thought I was up to paled in comparison to Jane's scandalous rendezvous. If Jane hadn't been caught, I might've gotten the cane. The headgirl eyed me as I snatched Lizzie's bracelet off the ground. Jane's tear-stained face was as pale as wax, her long tresses in tangles as though she had just risen from bed. She purposely avoided looking in my direction as Hulda shepherded us back to the dormitories.

Intrigue burbled within me to discover who Jane's paramour was. I confess I had expected him to be a her. Replaying my earlier encounter with the head-girl, I felt my face redden. Perhaps... Jane's tastes were not gender specific. Judging from how Jane refused to look my way, I wager she wouldn't give much away. But Miss Hulda has mentioned two other girls spotted the boy... I made a mental note to question them tomorrow. If an Eton boy could discretely enter the academy, then perhaps it wasn't that difficult for that fake stable boy, i.e. Mr. 7-8-9-10-11-12, to leave and enter as he pleased.

Hulda stopped in front of Jane's dorm and intently watched her enter. Then she pointed to my dormitory. "Well off you go Phantomhive."

I swallowed. My pigpen cipher under the crevice was still there. Please don't notice, please don't notice.

"Well?" Hulda eyed me sharply. "Aren't you going to pick that up?"

I reluctantly grabbed the scrap.

"Give that here." Pulse quickening, I handed it to her while thinking of a dozen poor explanations as to why it was there. To my amazement, Hulda simply ran a glance over it and gave it back, her face dismissive. "Throw it in the dust-bin. I won't stand for untidy students mucking up the dormitories I work so hard to maintain."

"Of course," I said with a saccharine smile.

Eager to be out of her presence, I closed the door behind me and inhaled a deep breath. When I stared at the slightly crumpled scrap in my hand, I blinked. This wasn't my pigpen cipher.

A rush of satisfaction flooded through me. For a brief moment, I felt like I held the reigns once more. So the mystery mastermind had taken my cipher. If they hadn't decoded it yet, they would soon enough. With the knowledge that I had the blue medallion stone in my possession, they would surely agree to my request of meeting in person. When I stared at the scrap left in the door, my confidence dwindled.

In return the cipherist had left me... nothing. Literally nothing. No symbols, no cipher, not even a measly line. It was simply a blank scrap of paper. Bewildered, I flipped it back and forth, squinting hard. I almost threw it in the aforementioned dust-bin when, in the far corner of the page, I saw three distinct letters. Handwritten in a size so small, they were barely visible. I squinted harder until my eyes hurt from exertion.

C.V.P.

"Blast..." Those initials. Cielle Vincent Phantomhive.

Was the dratted cipherist mocking me? I couldn't see the point in leaving a blank scrap with my initials. No... I gritted my teeth. This was part of the game. Like diamond cut diamond, I found myself sparing with someone of formidable wit, deviousness, and one who equally enjoyed playing games. I was supposed to receive this cipher. I was supposed to solve it. And I was supposed to follow this breadcrumb to Lizzie.

I licked my lips and stared at the utterly blank slip. The only question was how.

Notes:

P.S.: My coffee table book, "MERAKI: The World's Most Beautiful Words", has been published recently. It's an art book that features some of the most beautiful words around the world (Greek, French, German, Portuguese, Dutch, Japanese, Korean, Sanskrit, and so many others!) As a word lover, I had so much fun putting this together and discovering words for feelings all of us have experienced but could never name. ^_^

—you can read it HERE ^^

#black butler fanfiction

[ch4nb4ng]

Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

#lee minho #minho #leeknow #stray kids #lino #lee minho smut #skz smut #leeknow scenario #stray kids smut #stray kids scenario #dom leeknow #dom lee minho #dom lino #lino smut #ch4nb4ng

[christopher-bangnaldoskzz]

THE CROWN - 1

Changbin x Reader Female

Genre: 🌶️

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You happen to just fall in love with a prince, could it be that he feels the same.

Trigger warning: please remember this is a fiction and the characters are just that fictional. If you are sensitive to swearing or sexual content please do not read my stories…… some of my story’s do hold scenes from kdarams Sorry in advance if you don’t like it but I though they were cute, other than that please enjoy. 

I was wearing 

 Okay this one for some reason was set in medieval time, my mother was a hand of the queen and my father worked in the kitchen we were so poor my brother worked in the stables and my sister was a nannie. 

 I had just turned 18 and my mother was quick to put me to work in the castle as one of the maids. I was assigned the west wing that was where the king’s children where I knew he had two sons and a daughter the boys where twins and both my age. 

 I was cleaning the west wing day in and day out it was a nasty job.

 I was coming up the stairs and I hear a girl giggling as I step up, I see a guy that looked like this 

 Making out with what I assume was a sex worker of some sort he had his hand up her dress fingering her. I scrunched my noise up at the sight. 

 “OH, COME ON CHAN GET A ROOM” I heard from behind me.

 I turned around and I saw This guy standing so close to my body. 

 “Guys come on I don’t want to see that” he said ripping them apart.

 “Take it into your chambers” he said shaving them in. 

 He turned around and brushed his hands on his clothes “ewwwww honestly someone needs to tell him to stop bringing whores back from the brothel” 

 He turned around and saw me still standing there “oh sorry I’m Changbin” he smiled 

 Shit as in prince Changbin I curtsied “your highness” I said 

“Please don’t call me that….bin is fine” he said trying to stop me from curtsying. 

 We could hear the girl start to moan louder and louder, so Changbin decided to lead me back down the stairs. 

 “Sorry about him…. he has no manners” he smiled with his hand on my lower back. 

 “It’s okay your highness…. you don’t have to explain anything to me” 

 We went to walk outside when the head of the household walked by “Y/N…. first day on the job and you are already slacking off…..The king will have your head if he see you walking with his son….. NOW GET BACK TO WORK” she screamed 

 “I better go your highness…. messy clothes and sheets await me” I grin and walk rather fast up the stairs. 

 Each day as I would come to work, he would glance at me as I walked up the stairs and to his chamber. He would completely stop most days and follow me turning his head as I walked past him. 

 A couple of times he would be in his chambers when I arrived. 

 “Oh Y/N morning……I can take these down to the laundry room today” he smiled as he had all his clothes and sheets in his hand. 

 “Your highness that is not a good idea……I could get into a lot of trouble” I said taking the items and putting them in my woven basket.

 “Sorry I’m just trying to help…. please stop calling me your highness” he said in a sad voice. 

 I just smiled and walked out into Changbin sister’s room. 

 …….

 Over the coming weeks flowers from the castle gardens would be left at my house each day. My mum was so confused “who was doing this” 

 “I’m not sure” would say I thought it might be one of the servants that had a crush on kristyn, there was plenty of them. 

 It wasn’t until a couple weeks later as I was walking the castle hall I suddenly got dragged into the dark corner, I screamed. 

 “Shhhhh” I heard I could just make out his face in the darkness it was Changbin. 

 “Changbin?” I said scared.

 “Yes it’s me….do you like my flowers” he said inches away from my face. 

 “Those flowers are from you” I said surprised. 

 “Yes….I haven’t heard anything from you regarding them so I thought I would ask” he smiled.

 “That’s because I didn’t know they were for me….or from you……why are you sending me flowers your highness” I said so confused I was just his servant not like I could ever be his girlfriend. 

 He lips where inches away from mine “because you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen” 

 Good thing it was dark so he couldn’t see me blushing. I duck under his arm and run down the corridor around the corner I stopped to catch my breath. HOLY FUCKEN SHIT PRINCE CHANGBIN THINKS IM BEAUTIFUL. 

 ……

 Over the coming weeks Changbin would be in his chambers when I arrived, he would flirt with me and try to help me clean the room with him I had to tell him to stop because he was making it worse. Sometimes he would have the Kitchen make food and he would tell me to eat with him I would always refuse as people might get suspicious if I was in his room for too long. 

 There was a tournament in town and Changbin was performing in it out of him and chan, Changbin was the much better fighter. 

 He was in his camber getting ready with his servants I don’t know what came over me I walked in and started to clean “morning your highness” I would say as he armer was going on. 

 “Guys could you leave me and Y/N for a minute…. I just want to ask her to make sure something is extra clean for me today” the servants left and now it was just me and Changbin alone. 

 He grabbed my hands “you look nervous” he smiled. 

 “I am” I agreed

 “Nothing will happen to me” he squeezed my hand. 

 “You don’t know that…. heaps of people have died in these tournaments” I spoke he pulled me in so close. 

 “I will be fine…. but…….In case I’m not…..I think a kiss should do the trick” I kissed his soft lips and he pulled me close to his body. 

 I pulled away he placed his hand under my chin and kissed me again slowly walking me over to the bed “Changbin” I interrupted. 

 “Yes beautiful” he said laying me down. 

 “We don’t have time right now you need to get ready” i said pushing him off me. 

 “But I’ll be quick” he said kissing me again. 

 “BIN I SAID NO” I said firmly 

 He got off me and started to apologise profusely. 

 “It’s okay….but I have to go” I said walking out with tears in my eyes. 

 …….

 The tournament began I was sitting in the stands with my family.

 “Where have you been?” Kristyn said 

 “I had some things I needed to do first” I said grinding my teeth. 

 She just turned and said “chan is up next…..god I would do anything to be with him” 

 “In my experience chan is a dick” I said under my breath. 

 “Oh look there is prince Changbin” I could see the harts in her eyes. 

 He came out on his horse and jousting gear, this happened every year and he has never been hurt. It was different this year I was so nervous and tense my family could see it, I never really liked to watch the tournament’s anyway, so it wasn’t unusual for me to be uncomfortable. 

 He made it through jousting and then it was onto combat section, this is what I was dreading the most. 

 He was battling a knight from our neighbouring kingdom. He was a strong opponent the fight went for a long time, and I could see Changbin getting tired.  The guy elbowed Changbin and he fumbled back the crowed “ooooo” I was almost coming out of my seat, the guy then hit Changbin with the handle of his sword knock him out. 

The crowed freezes and the castle healers carry Changbin out of the arena, when I feel like no one is looking I get up and run down the stairs and to the medic tents I see the healers coming out of the tent and walk towards it pushing the curtains back there he was lying down still unconscious. 

 I walk up to him and touch his face “fucking idiot” I mumbled. 

 “Hey…. watch what you say or I’ll have your head” Changbin smiled, and grabbed my hand as he did someone walked into the tent with a cloth and a bucket of water.

 I let go and went to walk out of the tent “hey….servant help the healer with the bucket of water will you” Changbin said.

 I rolled my eyes and took the bucket of water out of his Hand “I’m jisung by the way” 

“Y/N” I said ringing the cloth out and patting Changbin face. He grabbed a cloth, and our hands touch he blushed a little “my apologies” he smiled I looked down and Changbin didn’t look happy his hands went into fists. I pinched under his arm “ouch” he said looking at me “my apologies your highness” 

 The next day I walk into his chambers, and he is asleep. I walk over to his bed and place a cup of water on the table. As I turn away, I can feel a hand grab my wrist; I scream as I get pulled down. 

 “Shhhhhhh, it’s just me,” he says in my ear. 

 “Changbin, you scared me,” I said, holding my chest. 

“Come and lie down with me,” he said as he pulled my body down next to him. 

“Your highness…I’m working, and this is inappropriate,” I say. Getting up out of bed, he sits up and pouts. 

“But I have a big match today,” he pouts. 

“And I hope you do well, your highness” I smile as I open the door. 

“Wait…” he screamed, but I closed the door and began to walk down the hall towards the maid's chambers. 

We were all getting ready to go off and see the last day of the tournament. I take my seat with my family. 

“Late again” my brother leans over

“Unlike some, I had to work,” I snarled 

“My lady,” I heard from beside me. I turned to see Changbin's servant. 

“My lady…..you are being requested to come to the prince's tent immediately,” the servant said with a confused look in his eyes. 

“Did he say what for?” I ask curiously. 

 “No, my lady, but he did seem angry…. Perhaps a mistake was made with his laundry again” it happened once. 

 “Alright…I’m coming” I stood up and walked out and down to the tents. The servant opened the tent folds, and there Changbin was fixing his armour. 

 “Your highness,” the servant interrupted.

 “Leave us,” he said abruptly. The servant left and closed the tent behind us. 

 “Were you in a rush this morning?” He said, trying to pull his armer down. 

 “Sorry, your highness…. I’m not quite understanding,” I said, knowing exactly why he called me here. 

 “Are you def my lady?….did you not hear me calling for you to wait this morning” he stopped starting to walk over to me. “When a prince asks a servant to wait, they must obey or else……do I make myself clear,” he said with his mouth inches away from mine. 

 “I’m sorry, your highness, this won’t happen again,” I said, Gulping. 

 “Usually, I would have you whipped in the courtyard for how you acted this morning.” I couldn’t tell if he was serious, but I was scared. 

 “I’m sorry again, your highness…. I didn’t realise you were calling for me,” I said, soft his breath brushing my face. 

 “However…. I have another punishment in mind,” he smirked. 

 He leans in, closing the gap between our lips. His lips were soft as they moved against mine, his hand on my lower back pulling my body in. He walks me backward towards the table that his armour was laid out on earlier. He lifts me, so I am now sitting on the bench. “Had you waited this morning, you would have seen I got you a gift,” he said as he pulled away from the kiss. 

 “A gift for me, why?” I asked why he would get me a gift we aren’t together. 

 “I asked my father what I should get you” he smiled.

 “You told the king about me,” I said, scared why would he do this.

 “ yes… I told him I was interested in someone and wanted to get her something.” 

 “Why would you say that he will have my head Changbin” I was so angry. How could he do this to me? 

 “Relax, I won’t let anything happen to you….after the tournament, meet me back in my chambers, okay” he placed his forehead to mine while cupping my face. He started to rub his nose on a mine left to right “see you in a little bit,” he placed a kiss on my forehead. 

 I was shocked. How could he possibly like me this much; I certainly wasn’t the best looking in town. So many girls threw themselves at him, and he wanted me, a servant girl who had nothing to give him. 

 …….

 I took a moment to collect my thoughts before going back to the seat, as I was walking around, I Heard “Y/N” I turned my head to see. 

 “Jisung,” I smiled 

 “I was just about to watch the prince……want front-row seats?” He smiled, grabbing my hand. 

 The match was about to start, and there he was in the middle serenaded by knights could see his eyes searching for me, our eyes met, and he became tense I remembered I was still holding Jesus' hand, I quickly let go as Changbin gripped his sword and put his helmet on. 

 The fight began, and I was once again on the edge of my seat one guy, two guys, three guys down. I could see one of the knights coming up behind Changbin. He’s going to kill him, and Changbin will never see it coming “ CHANGBIN BEHIND YOU” I found myself screaming and then he turned around and his the man with the back of his sword. 

 I could feel Jesus' eyes on me as well as my parents. Just one left must be chan. He would be the only other person I could think of that would battle Changbin. 

 Suddenly Changbin takes his helmet off, and chan follows. They are circling each other “brother, put down your weapon,” chan said, strong. 

 “Ha, you wish,” Changbin said, lunging at chan, and the battle began again. At one point, chan had changed on the ground, and right as he was about to Strike, Changbin kicked him down. 

I grabbed Jesus' hand out of fear “wow… you get into it, Huh,” he said in my ear. 

 “Huh….oh yeah,” I smiled. 

 Changbin had the sword to chan throat, and the crowd went wild. He then extended his hand out to let help him up. “Prince Changbin, the winner,” the king shouts. 

 My heart was beating so fast then I remembered what he said to meet him in his chambers after the fight. I ran through the crowd bumping shoulders with strangers, all in a rush to get to the Castle for the festival. 

 I ran up the stairs and smashed open the doors “oh good; he’s not here yet,” I said to myself, “who’s not here” I heard as I turned around to see Changbin all sweating from the fight. 

 “Your highness…I mean bin” I smile as I walk closer. 

 He hugged me so tightly “you looked worried today,” he said in my ear as he squeezed me. 

 “Sorry about that scream,” I said looking up, he again placed his soft lips to mine while tucking loose strands of hair behind my ear. 

 “My lady doesn’t need to apologise,” he said, pulling away and caressing my cheek. 

 “Your lady?” I smiled before we heard the door swing open. I pushed Changbin off of me, sending him into the clothing chest. 

 “Brother?” Chan said, looking at me as I was breathing heavily. 

 “Oh sorry….. with a servant….Changbin I never thought you cheeky bastard” he laughed. 

 “It’s not like that,” Bin said, getting up. 

 “It’s okay, brother…. We’ve all been tempted by the maids at one point” he raised his eyebrows 

 “When you're done with her, you can just send her to me,” he winked, Changbin punch chan in the face knocking him to the floor. 

 “Don’t you ever go think about touching Y/N….do you understand” he sends Squatting down. “You may be older than me, brother, but you will not win In a fight.” 

 “Ouch…. okay, you win….have the servant,” chan said, standing and leaving the room. 

 “Bin, what if he tells the king,” I said, panicked 

 “He won’t…I have too much shit on him” he smiled, grabbing my wrist softly, swaying then.

 “Who’s hand was that you were holding today,” he said, looking down. 

 “Oh, you saw that……. We are just friends,” I grind.

 “Friends, huh…. what’s his name again,” he said curiously. 

 “Jisung,” I said 

 “Ahhh, yes, the physician's assistant,” he said, locking his fingers in mine. 

#changbin #straykids #stray kids imagines #skz changbin #3racha #binnie #changbin edits #fanfic #jypfanfic #skz fanfic #changbinsmut #stray kids smut #jyp stray kids #kpop imagines #channie #bangchansmut #skzbangchan #bang chan fanfic #bangchan #bangchanedit #skz #oddinary #straykids fanfic #straykids fluff

[bakugosbratx]

Hi hi! Congratulations!! 🎊

Could I please request a fic with Eren or Levi and could they have some yandere tendencies? Like they’re too protective, gets jealous easily, would absolutely fuck you until you’re screaming so that the guy who’s been checking you out heard?

NSFW 18+ Let them hear you — Yandere Eren Jeager x Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Sexual content, bdsm, degrading, unprotected sex, oral, non-con, abuse, possessive, toxic relationship, gaslighting, Jean abuse, punishment, violence, etc.

Words: 1.9k

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hey love. Thank you so much for the request! I hope it meets what you are looking for. I am only on the third season so I apologize in advance for anything that seems uncanny. Enjoy.

P.S. I am still on break but I am trying to complete some request that have been sitting in my drafts. I miss y’all and will be back before y’all know it. Thank you for all the love and sweet messages.

“Eren, what are you—“

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren seethed through gritted teeth as he pulls you along. The death grip on your poor arm is making you cry out in pain. This only infuriated him more.

You did nothing wrong. You were eating your lunch with Mikasa when Jean strolled on over. It is not a secret that Jean likes you. Everyone knows that Jean likes anyone with a pulse. You have told the man multiple times that you are not interested — along with Eren — and you have a boyfriend, but it does not stop the man from trying. Especially when Eren is busy.

“Hello Y/N.” Jean greeted with a flirty smile. Your eyes couldn’t help but roll.

“Hello Jean.” You sigh as he sat across you two.

“What’s with the sad face, pretty thing? Eren got you down?” Jean chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

You scoffed. “Me and Eren are doing just fine, thank you very much.”

“Well, your face says otherwise. If you ask me, I’d say you can do better than that douchebag anyways—“ Jean’s spill got interrupted with a hard punch to the side of the head then another one to the nose. Gasp filled the room as eyes landed on who did this to the man. No one was surprised to see it was Eren himself.

Eren grabs Jean by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up to meet his height. Eren’s natural blue eyes were filled with rage. “You son of a bitch. Why the fuck are you flirting with my girl, Jean? She told you more than once she’s not interested.”

Jean manages to release himself from Eren’s grip, stumbling to keep his balance. This is not the first time these two have had altercations with one another.

“Ha, you don’t see the way she looks at me. Besides,” he pauses to wipe the blood leaking from his nose, “she was totally flirting with me.”

“Bastard!” Eren bellows as he goes to attack again, but the higher ups stop him along with you and Mikasa.

“Eren, stop.” Mikasa and you demand, hanging onto his arms.

“Let go of me! I’m going to make that son of a bitch pay.”

“That’s enough, Jaeger.” Captain Levi scolds. Eren snaps out of his rage to meet the small man’s eyes. “In my office. Now.”

Though Eren is still angry, he still knows when to show respect. Especially when it comes to the higher ups. Everyone in the room knew this.

“Yes, sir.” Eren sighs, still breathing heavy.

“Eren,” You began with sorrow filled irises. Though this is in no way shape or form your fault, you cannot help but feel the guilt within your bones. If only you would have done more than maybe Eren would not be in this situation.

Eren just glared down at your small frame compared to his, clearly not happy with you. It was a look you know all too well and you know you will be in for it later. Your heart pounded against your ribs at the thought.

“We’ll talk later.” Eren hissed before following Captain Levi to his office.

Jean did not mess with you for the rest of the afternoon. Eren was sent to clean up the horse stables while the rest of the team did their chores. Eren made sure to have his eyes on you anytime you were in close proximity. His glare was one you always refused to meet with your own two eyes. It made you feel small. Just like how Eren wanted.

Your anxiety has been through the roof all day. No one can blame you, though. Eren is a loose cannon on a good day. So, your super barely being touched was noticed, but not discussed amongst your peers.

Strong hands touched your shoulders. You jumped out of reflex. Looking up, you see your boyfriend looking down at you.

“Eren!” You exclaimed with joy and fear. He noticed both emotions.

“Follow me.” Eren orders, patting your shoulder more rough than he should have. You did not even have time to comply as his hand snakes around your bicep and pulls you along.

“Eren, you’re hurting me.” You whine as he pulls you towards the closest bedroom available.

“Eren, what are you—“

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren seethed through gritted teeth as he pulls you along. The death grip on your poor arm is making you cry out in pain. This only infuriated him more.

Slamming the door open, he ushers you along inside and swiftly closed the door behind him. Your hand wraps around your now warm, pulsating arm. You can feel the heat from Eren’s glare down onto you. You start to tremble.

“Eren, I—“

“I said shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren growls. He has taught you more than once to respect his orders, but you just cannot seem to listen. You will pay for that sooner than later.

Eren leans against the door, arms crossed as he heavily sighs. “What were you doing with Jean earlier today?” He finally asked. You turned to face him.

“N-Nothing!” You stammered. You know this made you sound guilty, but you are actually innocent. Just Eren knows how to intimidate you and when you’re in this position, your nerves take over.

Eren scornfully chuckled. “Please, do you really think I’m that dumb, Y/N?”

“I’m telling the truth, Eren! You know I don’t like Jean.” You spat. Your blood is boiling at this point. This accusation has been thrown at you more than once in your relationship and quite honestly, it’s getting tiring.

“Watch it.” Eren warned. You know you are not supposed to raise your voice towards him. He has corrected that behavior more than once and will do it again if necessary.

“Why was he sitting with you at lunch?” Eren interrogates after he notices you lose some confidence to yell at him.

You let out a deep sigh. “He just showed up. You know how Jean is.”

“And you didn’t stop him?”

“What was I supposed to do?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Tell him to fuck off!” Eren barks.

“And I did!” You argued back.

A small shriek escapes your lips as Eren charges towards you, wrapping his hand around your throat, and pushing you down onto the nearest bunk bed. You struggled to untangle his fingers as they squeeze your throat tightly.

“What did I say about talking back, slut?” Eren growls.

“I-I’m s-sorry, E-Eren.” You managed to get out as you lose circulation to your lungs.

“Oh, you will be. I’m going to make sure this filthy little mouth of yours will not be able to talk for weeks.”

Eren finally let’s go of your throat. You immediately cough. There is not enough oxygen in the room to get to your lungs fast enough it seems. Eren would argue and say you deserve it.

You hear a belt unbuckle along with his pants unzipping. His pants hang low on his hips as he watches you collect air. By the way his boxers are fitting quite snug, you know what is coming.

“On your knees.” Eren demands, pointing towards the creaky wooden floor below. You shook your head no, your eyes pleading. Eren did not respond to that well as he grabbed a hand full of hair and forced you to the ground.

“Do you ever fucking listen? I said on your damn knees.” Eren growls. You did not even have a chance to explain that you are not in the mood because Eren’s length is now being stuffed down your throat. You choked on Eren’s cock as every inch was entering your mouth.

Your nails clawed at Eren’s clothed abdomen. His hand never let up on your hair as he thrust in-and-out of you. You are choking, coughing for air, but Eren refused to show any ounce of mercy. In fact, he found it quite amusing. You should know better than to disrespect your boyfriend.

“Where is all that back talk now, princess? Don’t have shit to say with my cock down your disrespectful ass throat, do ya?” Eren mocks as takes another rapid thrust down your windpipe. Drool covered your chin and Eren’s dick. You can feel his girth stretch out your throat and he loves it. He loves seeing you struggle.

Pre-cum started to leak from his erected member. You are mentally thanking your maker. You needed a break and a gasp for air, but those prayers were answered quicker than expected. Eren pulls out his cock from your sore mouth. You let out pitiful coughs as he stroked himself to the sight of you.

“Strip then get in doggy.” He demands. Not wanting to make this worse for yourself, you do as your told. You are not even sure whose room this is. You just hope they do not walk into see the sinful things you and Eren are doing.

Each article of clothing fall to the floor and you get in the position Eren wants you in. All of your delicate tight holes are displayed for his taking. He walks over and spreads your ass out some more to get a better view. You yelp when a hard slap hits your ass.

Without warning, he brings you closer to him by latching his hands onto your hips and his cock slips into your tight cunt. Your walls do their best to expand to his girth, but no amount of sex with Eren can get you prepared for that. Your pussy takes in inch-by-inch. His stamina and merciless rhythm is forcing you to be accepting of his cock. Your knees shake under the pressure and your hands tightly grip onto the covers below.

A hard slap to your ass exploits the moan you have his behind your lips. “I kept your throat intact for a reason. Use it.” Eren scolds before hitting your ass again. You whimper.

“Eren.” You mewl.

“Yeah, who is making you feel this good?” He teases as he continues his venomous thrust.

“You do.” You sob. Your pussy is beginning to become accustomed to Eren’s erection and he is hitting all the right spots. He always does.

“Can Jean make you feel this good?” He groans, his knees slowly buckling beneath him.

“Never.” You wail. Your weeping cunt confirmed this as well.

“Damn,” he pants, “straight.”

Cum leaked from Eren’s cock deep into your cunt. You let out little moans as you became stuffed with Eren’s seed. Though you did not like he was not using protection, you have no say in the matter. This is for his pleasure and your punishment. You just have to take it like the good little submissive girl he taught you to be.

You milked every single drop of Eren before you were granted permission to put on clothes. Your hands intertwined as he lead you to the door. There stood Jean, Armin, and Conny. They all looked horrified as well as you. Eren’s smug smirk never left his features.

“What the hell are you doing in my room, Eren?” Jean exclaims in furry.

“Handling business,” he wraps his arm around Jean’s shoulder and let’s go of your hand to pat his chest, “By the way, thanks for letting me fuck my girlfriend on your bed.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

#bratx writes #attack on titan #eren yeager #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #eren yaeger x y/n #Eren Yeager yandere #eren yandere #yandere attack on titan #yandere eren jaeger #yandere eren x reader #yandere eren yeager #eren x y/n #eren yaeger imagine #aot #aot requests #aot x reader #eren jeager smut #eren aot

[shingia]

living together pt.1

↳ ushijima, bokuto, tanaka, iwaizumi, atsumu, kageyama, kuroo

pt. 2

— USHIJIMA

• three words : ushijima’s morning voice.

• it almost startled you when you heard it for the first time, which doesn’t mean you didn’t fall in love with it. quite the opposite actually

• why do i feel like you guys would get a dog? idk it just feels right

• like a BIG dog that he could take with him on his runs!

• ushijima really enjoys grocery shopping with you but he’s absolutely clueless about what needs to be bought, so he always asks you before putting anything in the cart

• he does it so often that he doesn’t even need to ask anymore. he just picks something from the shelf, looks at you and waits for your approval

• if your apartment has a fireplace or a wood-burner then the living room will automatically become his favorite place to be

• your home is pretty tidy all the time, there aren’t many things lying around except for volleyballs that he tends to carry with him every minute of every day

• also, this man can cook. i just know it. he also hums when he cooks

• his breakfasts are rather sober but his dinners? out of this world every. single. time.

• please take decorating in hand, because it’s not his strong suit at all

• he’s always been used to sleep with only one pillow and regular covers but if you ever initiate him to plaids and textured pillows, there’s no going back 

— BOKUTO

• bokuto is h y p e d to live with you because he really loves the idea of sharing so many more moments with you than before

• your housewarming party was fire, but that also means your neighbors hated you from day 1

• and these poor neighbors have already complained many times about the noise. not for nasty reasons, but just because bokuto sings atrociously loud in the shower

• every once in a while he pulls off a note that’s surprisingly good, and immediately runs out of the bathroom, soaking wet (with or without a towel), just to make sure you heard it

• you guys really enjoy planning trips for your holidays together. but you always get too carried away and find yourselves looking up stuff like underwater hotel rooms at 2am

• most of your holidays end up being spent in your apartment anyways, at least until you guys are more financially stable. but trust me, it’s just as entertaining as a road trip

• “hey hey hey!!!!” everytime he gets home

• chores with bokuto are the absolute best because you always end up dancing together in whatever room you’re cleaning (again, a reason for the neighbors to complain because the music is loud)

• one of the advantages of living with you is that bokuto can ask for your opinion on his outfit before going out, and he does that every single day (and by asking for your opinion, i mean straight up modeling)

• he’s also demanded to have some kind of wall of fame where he could put his volleyball cups, and you couldn’t say no to his supplicant face

• but he’s also super proud of you and insisted on having many pictures of you, or at least the two of you, on the walls

— TANAKA

• living with tanaka is probably the best decision you have ever made. he’s like a husband material on crack

• most important rule: NEVER take him grocery shopping unless you won the lottery

• it’s not that he doesn’t care about money, he’s just the biggest victim of consumer society and advertising

• i can picture tanaka always wanting to try the dumbest things from 5 minutes crafts. and it never rarely works

• he’s not the best at cooking but he’ll try his best to learn from you or with you. and it turns out he’s not bad at cooking ramen

• he attaches a lot of importance to brushing his teeth with you every morning and every night, just because one of you usually ends up singing and everything becomes chaotic really quickly

• also, tanaka has already accidentally set fire to something but promised himself to never let you find out about it

• let me also tell you that if saeko likes your apartment, then it’s over for you guys. whatever you do, don’t give her a spare key

• obviously, sharing an apartment means that tanaka had to learn how to deal with being in the bathroom while you’re showering. and it took quite some time for him to function properly after getting out of there

• you can also be sure that he’ll try to mention the fact that he lives with you in every discussion. even if it’s with people who obviously already know that

• “alright noya, i’m going home, y/n must be waiting for me. y’know... since we live together now. yeah i know, pretty cool, right?”

— IWAIZUMI

• is SO GOOD at building furniture? even your neighbors asked for his help, he’s like the ikea master

• that’s one of the main reasons why he handled most of the move (that and his beefy arms)

• but all the shopping for furniture and decorations was done together

• he wasn’t sure whether he wanted oikawa to come to your apartment before you guys were properly settled in, but his teammate did not really leave him a choice and popped up at your front door one bright saturday morning

• iwa refuses to let you take the trash out when it’s dark outside because he’s really scared that something might happen to you

• i hc iwa as being pretty good at baking, and he really likes doing it with you. although i think he would definitely yell at you if you dipped your finger in the dough

• also, he’s grumpy af in the morning but a nice breakfast in your company is enough to make his frown disappear in no time

• another good way of lightening his mood is by asking him simple things like opening a jar for you. he’s aware that it’s a huge cliché but he can’t deny that it makes him feel super strong

• finally, i think iwa would enjoy living in a house that’s more on the rural side rather than living in the city. but since houses are more expensive, he’ll patiently save money and keep his dream house in the countryside in the back of his mind as something to work hard for

• but seriously let him have a backyard and he’s the happiest man on earth

— ATSUMU

• you guys moved in together pretty early in your relationship; many people thought it was a bit hasty but you two just knew that you’d make this work. it was a gut feeling 

• atsumu always talks about how great it is not to live with osamu anymore, but it actually takes him a few weeks to stop yelling his brother’s name as soon as he can’t find something in his stuff

• he has the habit of walking around the apartment shirtless, only wearing a pair of sweatpants because he knows you’re really enjoying the view

• he grabs/smacks your butt everytime he passes you by, even if you’re on the phone with your boss (especially if you’re on the phone with your boss)

• living with atsumu is great, it truly is. but he can be such a child that it’s also really draining

• he has already thrown food at you while eating together, and then pretended he had no idea how that piece of bread ended up in your sweater

• also he blasts his music too damn loud in the morning which has already caused you to hit his head with a pillow until he accepted to turn it off

• he’s okay with sharing chores equitably, but you have to teach him everything. and i mean everything

• will take a thousand pictures (i’m not exaggerating) with you in your apartment and send it to as many people as he can, just to show off his new life and because he’s highkey super proud of living with you

• he definitely started using a stupid nickname to honor your new situation, so now he exclusively refers to you as his “sexy roommate” just because he knows it makes you blush really hard

• he also insisted on getting led lights for your bedroom. there, i said it. 

— KAGEYAMA

• takes him forever to get used to the idea of living with you, not because he doesn’t like it, but because it seems so surreal

• obviously lets you decorate everything from A to Z because kageyama can do many things, but decorating isn’t one of them

• it’s most probably his first time living without his parents and he really enjoys being able to do things that used to be forbidden in his house like eating his meals in bed or taking showers at ungodly hours of the night

• if he’s had a rough day, he will not care that a bed is waiting for him, he’ll sleep on the first flat surface he sees

•  kageyama definitely lets you cut his hair in your bathroom, but please for the love of god don’t let him cut yours

• however, if he really wants to repay you for cutting his hair, then you can definitely entrust him to take good care of your nails

• takeout is pretty frequent because you’re both too lazy to do the dishes

• if you two live in a big city, his morning runs will turn into recon missions to find cool spots where he wants to take you

• i hc kags at being surprisingly good at ironing, but at the same time not caring about wearing clothes that look like someone made origami with them

• on the other hand, he’s really struggling with the washing machine and it takes him months before using it without you

• and even after months or years spent living together, be prepared to still receive phone calls from him asking you where the salt is

— KUROO

• living with kuroo is surprisingly peaceful, at least when none of his friends are over (if they are, then welcome to hell) 

• mornings are usually the most peaceful time of the day, mainly because kuroo takes forever to wake up since he sleeps so well when he’s with you

• he often leaves post-it notes for you on the bathroom mirror with little messages for you. sometimes it’s “i love you <3”, other times it’s “we’re out of toilet paper <3″

• obviously you adopted a kitten and she’s treated like royalty (the most doting is definitely kuroo)

• when going out, he sometimes goes down the floors by sliding on the handrail of the stairs, your neighbors aren’t even surprised anymore

• you once told him that you really liked plants, and now your apartment looks like a freaking jungle because he buys you one every week and insists on naming every one of them

• since neither kuroo nor you want to do chores, you found a good way of deciding whose turn it was :

• “heads : the dishes are for you, tails : for me”

• and this man has incredible luck

• kuroo takes the longest showers but always smells divinely good afterwards. your water bill might not like that but you definitely do

• i can totally imagine him winking at you everytime he folds your underwear, he can’t help it

• like atsumu, he’d be the kind of guy to walk around the apartment half naked with a smug look on his face just to see you get flustered

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #ushijima x reader #atsumu x reader #bokuto x reader #tanaka x reader #iwaizumi x reader #kageyama x reader #kuroo x reader #ushijima fluff #atsumu fluff #bokuto fluff #tanaka fluff #iwaizumi fluff #kageyama fluff #kuroo fluff