#but I didn't know that at first so it's been a gradual shift in perspective | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ddostoyevskyy · 1 year

Text

The Runaway Bride

Kamisato Ayato

Note: Can't believe I'm writing for another fandom again. Anyway, this man is my old main. I'm using my OC's surname (from my BSD fic) as Y/N's surname, just in reference of their origin. Typical arrange marriage trope.... with a twist. He fell first, and fell harder.

Warnings: idk how to label this - angst to comfort or comfort to angst? SEXUAL CONTENT — READ AT YOUR OWN RISK (unprotected sex, hate sex? idk, reader is a lil’ rough with Ayato, biting, overstimulation, edging, size kink, it started rough but it ended soft), afab!reader, enemies to lovers — to enemies (?), Ayato’s pining and an oblivious yet love-starved reader, graphic violence, child abuse, family issues, heavy implied incest (not from reader and Ayato), blood, descriptive murder, victim-blaming, manipulation, self-blaming, self-harming, I DO NOT RECOMMEND ANY OF THESE WARNINGS, THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL, ANY SCENES ARE PURE IMAGINATION.

11.2K words

Part 1, Part 2 (?)

MASTERLIST

"Smile now, my daughter," Father had whispered in your ears with a huge smile on his face, eyeing your whole appearance in the mirror as you shifted and fidget your hands together in discomfort. Wearing a white, long sleeve dress made with the finest silk and your hair tied up in a bun, creating a sharp look on your fluttering eyes. His hands are on your shoulders while he whispers sweet nothings on your ear as you stood in front of the mirror, gradually staring intently on the clear reflection. "They've known my daughter because of her warm smile. We don't want to disappoint the visitors if they ever saw you frowning like that, right?"

You tried your best to smile that doesn't even reached your eyes, though, your father had praised you for showing him his favorite smile of yours and praising you for being a good daughter, you winced when he's finally gone to prepare, almost dropping on your knees for the pressure as you huff, both in annoyance and discomfort.

Being a perfect daughter is difficult —especially, when you can't act fine and proper anymore. All of these stupid acts and conservative etiquettes has you trying to break free from its chains. Too many do's and dont's, the perks of being a noble daughter from an old-fashioned family is exhausting.

You don't even like the silk cloth, nor to smile in front of people. You don't like the way your chest is exposed in the dress your father made you wore, nor the heavy make up planted on your face — you look like a whole different person in the mirror, almost not recognizing yourself.

You shakily sighed before calling your assistant — a young man with a fancy hat. He's been with you since you were little and up until now, he stayed loyal to you — and not to your father.

"Yes, My Lady? Do you need anything?" His face is hidden under his hat politely, a gentleman, a young man you would proudly say that you raised from your woman perspectives and feminist. He's dressed in a nice suit with a long, white coat that you eyed as you clicked your fingers before walking towards him.

"You know the drill. Hand me your coat, gentleman." You replied as he obliged, buttoning open his coat as he handed it to you. You thanked him as you turn around to put the coat on yourself, seeing how it perfectly wrapped around your body, covering most the important part you wanted to cover. You stayed it draped over your shoulders, buttoning it close only to where your chest needs to be covered. The color of the coat fits perfectly with the color of your dress.

"That looks good on you, My Lady -" You glance up to him on the mirror and he realized his words, halting as he cleared his throat, "Everything looks good on you, My Lady. Perhaps, you didn't talk the compliment back, so, you are really the person who raised me as I am. Lady Y/N."

He emphasized your name as you finally met his eyes — dark purple and glimmering under the chandelier of the room. You eyed him before raising an eyebrow in agreement. He took of his hat before putting it on top of your head — a signature he always did whenever it was you - the other Y/N — will appear in this kind of situation. Despite of the similarities, he can totally see the differences between.

Between you and your twin.

Despite of your older twin being exactly just the same as you, he could tell the difference after knowing you for a lifetime. Your older twin has the same love of fashion with what you wore, she also held a wide and warm smile to everyone and she always have a mischievous personality you sometimes despised. She has a carefree personality and a warm embrace that you've always feel after the end of the day.

While you, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. You took liking of reading — a scholar in Sumeru Akademiya despite living a fancy life in Schenezaya. Despite of that, both of you have the same taste in music - she had taken a liking of playing the piano and you playing the violin and collaborate with one another. Both of you found the comfort to each other despite being the exact opposite.

"Lower your voice, Mister Fancy Hat." He grunted at the nickname, but he can't hide the small smile that forms on his lips. You glance at him again, taking the opportunity to appreciate his beauty on the mirror. He looks dashing on a suit — which you can only see if both of you are not in Sumeru. His usual clothes are traditional, he's the General of Sumeru after all — an electro vision. His white, long hair is tied up in a high ponytail, making his lavender eyes sharp as ever, his dark skin makes it the complete perfection.

"You can always call me Cyno, My Lady. Now, we are running out of time. Let's go to the camel, shall we?" He offered you his arm and you raised an eyebrow while accepting his offer — wrapping your hand on his arm as he guide you out of the room.

"Isn't it appropriate to let a Lady ride with such an absurd transportation?" You challenged as you stared at him.

"Then, do you want me to fly you in the wind, then?" He spouts back with the same challenging tone and you finally break with a smile — a genuine smile this time.

"How annoying." You mumble, squeezing his arm in a playful manner and you gradually feel a little relieved and content now as you stood by Cyno's side, constantly brushing your shoulder on him to let him know that you're comfortable enough now. This is one of your mannerism that he discovered later on. Perhaps, it is the way the General would make you feel comfortable — by engaging you in a sarcastic conversation and he made sure not to engage you in one of his jokes anymore after you sent him a knife that luckily didn't hit him intentionally after he made a lame joke when you're not in the mood.

Despite being born and raised in a different worlds, it's not hard to get along with him, despite being both an introvert and silent personalities. He's making sure to read the atmosphere around you and he'd known you and your twin better than your father did. He understood the struggles of changing places and adjusting to another scenarios again. Despite that, he respected both siblings and had taken care of both of you — it's like, he's the older brother you both couldn't have.

"My Lady, you know why we're departing to Inazuma, right? I hope, you are aware of what will happen." He muttered and you hummed, every steps you make on the stairs is getting heavier at the thought. After you and your older twin had arrived at a coming of age, your father had been constantly visiting some mansions and families with you tagging along and introducing you to the families' son. Now that your father had invited you again, your older twin decided to switch places so you could experience the outside for a while.

Whenever you are in the mansion, it was you who's present. And, whenever you are suppose to be outdoors, your older twin is the one in presence.

"Yes, I completely understood why we're arriving at Inazuma. But, Cyno," You called out his name as you squeeze his arm in process before you glance at him, "Do my sister, perhaps, know someone from the said city? I don't want to appear clueless now and Sister never told me anything after she came home from Inazuma." You finished as Cyno guided you through the caravan. You hopped inside with his help — his hands find your waist to hoist you up as you stepped on the edge before you sat down inside, few people had offered their greetings and safe for the travel as you genuinely smiled at them.

Cyno followed shortly as he closed the door of the caravan and spoke, "Yes. As the matter of fact, a certain noble family from Inazuma had tried to put ties between your family. They are well known and wealthy, but after a sudden death of the wife's head of the family after your father and the other Lady had visited their respected estate, they immediately cut ties and took blame of the Barouqe clan, as result."

You nodded and hummed. It has been a while after your sister had visited the city Inazuma and you've been curious about what really happened. As far as you know, the wife is already suffering from a disease.... that you've seen in the book and you have an actual idea of the cure. If only, you were the one who tag along with your father before, no other clan would put a burden on your family's name in Inazuma.

"I see." You shortly answered before the door on your caravan swung open and your head shifted into the direction, seeing none other than your older twin in flesh as your eyes slightly widened before hoisting her up as you look outside the caravan, on the process. Thankfully, there are no one around anymore and her face is covered with a silk cloth.

"Sister, you are coming with us?"

"Yes. Father already decided to come back and visit Inazuma again." She removed the covet on her head as she closes the door's caravan, the horse started to move as you sighed.

"You two are not planning to do something reckless, are you not?" She looks at you with those same eyes - a hint of glint and a mischievous smile - something you always see whenever she's plotting and teasing. As much as you adored her, you hated her at the same time as how she's so troublemaker. Despite having the exact appearance, she's mischievous and playful — it's like a whole new side of you whenever you look st her.

"Come on, younger sister! Just imagine this as the game we always play when we were little kids! Remember?" She reminded you, her gloved hands skimming to raise your dress up to expose your thighs and your body stiffened — realizing that you are not the only on inside the caravan — Cyno is here too. "But, this time, we are playing like this with the Head of the clan."

Her lips are dangerously close to your ear as she whispered, sending shivers down to your body and a goosebumps appear on your thighs — that your sister immediately notice and she giggled. You didn't like the idea she said, nor the way her hand has been caressing your skin and biting the lobe of your ear. The disgusting feeling had been bubbling up on your throat.

"I think, that's enough, Lady." Cyno's hand had grasp her to stop her from touching you and almost distinctively, you put a hand on his arm to signal him that's enough, knowing how Cyno's grip can be forceful at times. Your older twin pouted.

"You're no fun, Cyno!" She huffed, "Come on, little Y/N. This will serve as a revenge for ruining our name in Inazuma, no? We won't murder anyone, okay? We just need to be a little more scandalous — yes, scandalous in an elegant way!" She has her arms wrapped around you again as she put her chin on your shoulder, giving your neck a peck as you sighed.

"Who are we gonna p-play with?" You asked, voice cracking. You don't really like that term for it.

"My Lady." Cyno warned you, violet eyes dimmed as he stares at you intently. You gave him a force smile as he look away, jaw clenching as he scoffed and shake his head in disapproval.

"Finally! The Yashiro Commisioner, Head of the Kamisato clan — Kamisato Ayato."

Your mind had strucked a familiarity of the name as you've heard — the Kamisato clan. The infamous clan that runs the Inazuma for years and their high social status had been kept even after the wife of the Head of the clan deceased. You were curious about them as you've seen their name on a list where your family's name also included.

You felt a sudden strike of anxiousness when you arrived at the Inazuma. Despite, departing safely and no avail, you felt like there's a whole disaster that happened. Your hair that is tied up in a bun was now cascading on your back as you continue to run your fingers through your locks as you look around the unfamiliar city of lights. It was full of different street lights and the city seems to be much busy at night.

Agreeing to your older twin is certainly not a good idea.

You felt like backing out. But, when your father's arm had wrapped around your shoulder, you knew you can't go back in Schenezaya without getting any profit here anymore. "Your older sister had definetely told you what we're here for, yes? That time when me and your sister arrived here, it seems like the heir of the Kamisato Clan didn't like your sister's personality. That's why, I told her that maybe, you, my youngest daughter can capture his heart," Your father mumbled in a low tone, voice seeping with such a vile and venomous words.

"So, do your best and be a good girl, alright?" You just nodded quietly, "And, don't forget our little game we played when you were little, my daughter. You could put that in a good use." He gave you a peck on the top of your head as he cups your face and stroked the delicate skin of your cheeks. You wanted to slap his hand away, but it seems like your father's vision had been electrocuting you the moment he touched you and you can't do anything but to follow his instructions.

"My Lady, are you sure about this? I have a bad feeling." Cyno mumbled besides you as you walk behind your father. The Kamisato clan seems to be notified by your departure and your father stated that there going to be a small banquet of celebration for the Barouqe's arrival. You never felt nervous like this, atleast. Not even the soothing sound of Cyno's voice will calm you.

"It's going to be f-fine, Cyno. You're here with me, right?" You assured him — or assured yourself? You aren't even sure enough as you step closer and closer to the Kamisato's estate. A traditional Inazuma's mansion with a small bridge above the clear lake is what caught your attention. The blossoming sakura trees had you knowing that the spring season is getting near.

You seems to be distracted by the view that you didn't notice the people that welcomed you.

"My daughter, come and greet them." Your father's voice had snapped you out of your thoughts as you averted your eyes away from the mesmerizing scenery. Your hand on Cyno's arm loosened before you turn your attention up front.

"I apologized from being distracted. Nice to meet you again, Mister Kamisato." You put on your best smile that surely appeared on your eyes now too — staring at the man in front of you. Your smile faltered a bit when you see how he looks at you; sprinkled with suspicion and admiration — well, the second one seems to be just an assumption — but his lavender eyes twinkled with such an emotion you couldn't decipher. Nevertheless, you appeared confident despite of how nervous you are.

"Lady Y/N, the only child of Barouqe, it's a pleasure to see you again after so many years," He took your hand and gently gave a peck on the back of your gloved hand. You were quite surprise at his sudden action and by the fact of how gentleman he is — far from what your older twin described him. But, you've noticed how his words came of sarcastically. "Despite of the feeling like we've just met for the first time, no?"

You retracted your hand as you smiled once again. The tension in the air created a heavy atmosphere as you answered. "Why, of course. It seems like we, again, met for the first time. People gradually change for years, Mister. So, I assumed, we shouldn't stay in the past anymore, right?" You answered with the same pettiness.

"Well, well, you are one to talk about the past that I presumed, you don't have any idea about." He retorted and you hid the way you gritted your teeth behind your lips. Your hand clenched behind your back.

This man might know something he shouldn't have any knowledge about!

"I do not know what you're implying." You stared intently in his purple eyes as he squinted them, glancing on your expression — the mess on your laid hair because of the wind, the seemingly change of your body appearance and the way your eyes sent daggers and eyelashes fluttering like angel wings. The Y/N Barouqe he'd known before is not as tough as you are now, nor as fierce and sharp tounged. You seems to appeared more..... attractive to him than you are already before.

Or is the young lady he met before was really you?

"Ah. It seems like you already did really changed, M'lady," He smiles with his eyes close, "Now, let's go inside before the food gets cold." His voice falters deaf in your ears when you finally confirmed it. Your head craned behind your back, silently speaking with Cyno using your eyes and pursed lips. He seems to get the right thing running in your mind as he only shook his head again in disapproval.

Closing your eyes, you felt your father's hand crept on your wrist and your turn your attention to him.

"I-I don't think I can play the game with him, Father." You stuttered as you tried to remove his grasp. But his grip only tightened when you started to resist.

"Come on, my dear daughter. It seems like, the Commissioner had taken a liking of you. We don't want to waste that, right?" Your father had whispered in a dangerous tone and you shakily sighed before you manage to let yourself free from his grasp.

When you finally arrived inside the mansion, your expression deadpanned, already uninterested as how this conversation will go. This is not the first time you've ever oppose to your father's orders, especially when your dignity and you, yourself will be ruined, at the end of the day.

"Welcome inside the Kamisato Estate, Mister and Lady Barouqe. I hope you will enjoy your remaining time here," The Yashiro Commissioner turn himself in your direction, a smile planted on his face as he stared down at you as you look up, challenging him with burning eyes.

There's really something in you that have changed..... was it your personality? No. Even the way you smile is different than before, even the way your eyes had this burning passion and hatred towards him is visible — you have no intentions on hiding your own feelings and emotions as you look at him with those eyes thag sparkling with an attitude. Even though, you're smiling at him, it doesn't even reached your eyes the way you smiled before at him.

Maybe, it wasn't really you that he had met before.

He just needed to confirm it with only you and him.

Alone.

"Mister Barouqe, I hope you don't mind. I want to make some time alone with your only daughter, if that's alright?" He finished and he sees the way you visibly clenched your teeth as you blink nervously. He knew something was up, though, he wanted to push you through your limits until you break and submit yourself to him.

You are an interesting woman and he'll make sure to play with you too.

Your father seems to be enthusiastic at his request, putting both of his hands on your shoulder before pushing you slightly to the man in front of you. He offered a hand and you're lucky to decide to wear a gloves. You turn to look at Cyno, but it seems like he's quite mad at you as he keep his eyes on the floor. You sighed before removing his hat on your head and putting it back to his head. You already had your back turn to him when he decided to raise his head to look at you.

The Yashiro Commissioner guided you to a room as you entered, admiring where he brought you; a room full of books in shelves. The room has a high ceiling, the scent of paper and wood entered your sense of smell as you breath a sigh at the familiar sensation. One thing you love in someone's mansion is their library — or wherever there's books and pens.

His eyes trailed at your expression as he confirms it, yet again. The young Barouqe he met 10 years ago is not as enthusiastic as she is when he welcomed her before inside his office. You look mesmerized — mesmerizing as you walk around the toom, constantly touching the spine of the book and Ayato's eyes followed your movement when you stop just right on the medicine book section.

He stands there, amused. "It seems like you took liking of books now, M'lady."

You halted on your movements, already mentally screaming at yourself at being too excited with the sight of the books. You close the book on your hand before putting it back to its place as you turn your attention to the man that was now one step away from you.

"Ah, indeed. After the incident ten years ago, I decided to read some medical books to understand what really happened to your deceased mother." You put an insult to the wound, already liking the way the man in front of you twitched in irritation. But he gave you a smile.

"The report said that my late mother us poisoned, that confirmed at this very day. You, Lady Y/N, were you poisoned too? Or perhaps," He stepped closer and you step backwards, already hitting the wall as you hissed through your teeth, "You were electrocuted?"

"I don't know what are you talking about —"

Your voice caught in your throat when he tugged your hand behind your back, his other hand quickly pulling something behind his back as your eyes widened at the familiar sensation of a sharp shard that penetrates on your skin as he cut deep — to mark your palm.

"What —!"

"Tell me, confess now, M'lady. You are not the person I met ten years ago, yes?" He's quite surprise as how strong your resistance as you keep resisting on his arms. He managed to press you up against the wall again, his thigh between your legs as you groaned at the pressure of his hand on your wound.

"Let me go, you bastard!" You resist. "I'm going to kill you!"

"Ah, ah. Feisty, aren't you? The exact opposite of your.... older twin, right?"

There's no point of excuses now as you sighed in defeat, loosening your grip on his hand as the attitude you gave him a few seconds ago disappeared in an instant. He stared at your softening expression, but your eyes still show the hatred emotion planted on your pretty face.

"What's your motive? You're not stupid as you portray to even let the person who killed your mother inside your own territory again." You spat at him as he smiled — that annoyed you even more. He keep smiling at you, lips stretch in an outmost stunning smile you ever seen as though to annoy you or it was a genuine gesture that made something inside of you stir.

"I have something to propose to you, M'lady," His grip on your wound finally loosen up as he gently graze at the wound before he's pulling you to sit down on his chair, grabbing something from the drawer, a first aid kit he had on his office. "Let's use each other for an important purpose. I let you work your motive to me and you will let me do as I please to your family."

You eyed him sharply as he started to gently jab the wound with an ointment. You were used to having your wounds treated before that even the feeling of a knife penetrating on your skin doesn't make you cry anymore. He's gentle, opposed from what his grip on you earlier.

"You're stupid to even think I will let you touch my family."

"Aren't you the one getting touched by your own family?" His reply made you halt as you stared at him wide eyes. He seems to hit the right answer when you grip his arm with your other hand. He turn his attention to you as he studied your reactions. You seem flabbergasted, breath hitching and pupils dilated as though you've seen a ghost.

"You —! How —"

"You think your assistant will only shake his head or stay quiet with your situation?" He confessed, "We've known each other after my mother died as he asked for my help. Now that you are here in front of me, the woman I want to help, I'm going to save you from your own family."

"What the hell are you talking about saving me?" There it is, your eyes sharp as ever as you stared at him, standing on your own feet as you pull him down closer to your face that you could feel his breath fan on your face. He's stunned for a moment, seeing you up close like this. This felt nothing like the woman he met ten years ago and it made his heart race. "I've been suffering from my own family, all my life. It's too late to save me now. And, besides, if I were to marry you, I will do anything to slit your throat while you're sleeping."

He hummed, clearly he is not listening when he had hid lavender eyes on your lips as he scoot closer, nose bumping on each other and you have no time to protest when he's quick to hold the back of your head and capture your lips in a seething kiss, your own hand clasping tightly at the hem of his kimono when he opened your mouth with the use of his sultry tounge, the warm muscle exploring on the roof of your mouth, on the back of your teeth and your own tounge dancing as he hums lowly, the sound vibrating on your lips and you hissed.

Your teeth graze on his bottom lip as you bite as a warning, but he didn't even stop to process the pain that stung, continuously stimulating your lips with his while your wounded hand is sti on his gentle grasp. You became breathless, gasping and breathing heavily on his mouth and he seems to enjoy the taste of your lips and the sinful sounds that starting to escape on your throat.

"Wait —! You.... bastard —!"

His hand had cupped your cheeks, lips moving passionately on your own as he captures all the noise and words on your mouth, deliberately opening your mouth using his thumb as you started to thump your fist on his chest. He tasted sweet with a mix of coffee — the aftermath taste of the sweetened boba tea he drank earlier as his tounge dances inside your mouth, leaving you unable to breath as you finally gave in — kissing him back with the same amount of tension he'd giving your mouth and he moans lowly.

"Kami — sato —! I'm.... telling you —! Let me go —!"

The movement on his lips seems to slow down, but he's still not letting you go. Lips attached to yours as he slowly move his lips in a sinful pace and you gasp, the sound that escapes your throat only desire him to go further — until you can't breath anymore. Maybe, the kiss he was giving you could be the reason of your death, as much as you want to deny the warm feeling on your chest and the sensation of his soft lips and unrelenting tounge — you were lost on his facade, too lost on his world once his fingers caress your face.

He finally let go of your lips with a smack and you gasped for air again, panting as he studied the mess he made in front of him. You look delirous with your eyes clouded with desire mixed with hatred and your lips swollen with his minstrations. He's not even better.

"You bastard! You're going to pay for this!" He's silent for a moment, still out of breath. His attention drifted from your face to the wound he made on your palm as he grabbed the cotton again, treating your wound like nothing happened and you stand there, flabbergasted at his actions.

You scoffed, but he never uttered a single word as he work in silence, his mind drifted at the feeling of your lips and the taste of your strawberry chapstick that had mark on his lips. You had noticed and your other hand graze on the bottom of his lips to wipe your glistening balm that has transferred on his lips. He halted as he finished dressing your wounds.

You stared at him like he's the most ridiculous person on the earth, constantly eyeing and judging his perfect appearance like he didn't took your first kiss away a few moments ago, you gave him a sharp look when he stared back at you with unreadable expression like he didn't have his tounge shove on your mouth. You hated his guts and his motives — why is he helping you, anyway? That really confirmed that assumption of your father might be the one who's responsible for his mother's death.

And, now you are paying for your own father's debt.

"I hate you." You blurted and a sly smirk appeared on his handsome face.

"Keep telling that to yourself, My Lady. You are now officially tied up with me." You grunted, pushing his attractive face away when he started to lean into you again. He kissed your palm that was planted on his face and you were startled at the gesture and slightly smack his lips in annoyance. He's being annoying as he keeps pushing you to your limits.

"You were a lot more different than your older twin. Maybe, because I didn't like her guts as much as I like you." His hand clasp on yours where you still had your hand on his face, kissing the tip of your fingers in a manner that made you huff in annoyance despite not pulling away from his warm touch.

"We're twins. If you ever planning to marry me, I will make her show up in the wedding instead." You poked a finger on his cheeks, but frozed when he leaned in your touch that made your blood boiled more as you grit your teeth.

"Don't you thought of the reason why I marked you here in your hand?" His fingers graze on your right palm, creating gentle stroke on the covered wound and you realized it by now; why he made a scar on your skin to mark you — his mark — his blade — on you.

"Or you want a different mark instead? Perhaps, on your neck or chest?" His other hand slid on your waist up on the back of your nape and you shivered at his touch, clutching on the cape that was wrapped around you. His thumb graze on the exposed skin of your neck and you bite back any sound that's threatening to escape. "Do you want me to paint you with my lips? Since, my blade hurts as much, let me paint you using no blood this time."

What.

You stared at him pupils blown wide as he leaned closer.

You were supposed to seduced him, not the other way around!

"I — WAIT —! YOU BASTARD!" Is the only thing left to your lips as you pushed him away when you finally gathered your strength back. Your legs feel numb as you stumbled back, almost crashing yourself down on the pile of books behind and he's quick with his movements to capture you, but he halted on his movements.

"Don't come any closer," He saw his own blade on your hand, pointing the sharp edge towards him and Ayato was stunned as he looked at you. When did you have his blade in your hand? You were sly and quick with movements that he didn't even noticed the subtle of your hand on his back as you caught his blade on your hand. "Let's talk like this."

"Speak now, My Lady." He offered you to go first and you took a deep breath.

"Father told me that you seems to not take a liking to my older twin, ten years ago. That's why, I am the one he sent here. He's been planning to fix our reputation here in Inazuma because of the assumptions and accusations which I've proven true. Father did killed the Lady of Kamisato clan, but not with poison." Ayato listened as he eyed you, your hand still had its grip on his own weapon.

"What did he used?"

"It's a herbal medicine which triggers a certain disease to become more complicated and later uncurable. I've read it in a book and I found out the cure for it and I might have save the Lady if I am the one Father sent ten years ago. But, he didn't plan on sending me because he knew I have such knowledge that will make a hinder for his cunning plans," You finished as you finally let your guard down, walking towards him as you wrapped a hand around his waist — yet again, you're close to him, his manly scent mixed with yours mingling on your nostrils as you put his weapon back on his pocket. His stature melt on your warmth.

"So, I, uhm.... I apologize," You spoke with such a small voice, hiding your face own his chest and arm still wrapped around his waist. "I apologize for my family's behalf. I.... I will do anything to pay for Father's debt."

Ayato gritted his teeth — it was his turn to get furious now as he stared at you; your eyed had lost its expression — it turned dull and regretful. His hand find its way to your jaw as his firm grip had made you startled a little before he turn your face in his direction, craning your neck to stared at him. He seems.... mad.

Your father is the one who has a debt to pay to him, but you are the one here — in front of him, asking for forgiveness and anything just to remove the burden Ayato put in your family. This wasn't supposed to happened; to have you beg - the sound of you begging is not what he meant you to do, he wants to hear you begging in other way around.

But, it seems like his plan already failed from where he kissed you with fiery desires.

You already have no intentions on lying in front of his face, nor lie for your family.

You wanted his help, you were tempted as you fell for this tricks the very first moment you let him kiss you and tease you.

"Anything? You can give me anything I please?" He saw the nervousness that flashed in your eyes, although, you nodded, you seem hesitant — he can feel it.

"You knew, you just did gave me a consent to kill your father as a payment for his debt, right? Your older twin is not even an exemption." His lips are dangerously close to your ear as he whispered and all of the attitude you gave him earlier disappered. He's keeping an eye on the very expression you're making when he pulled away, but his hand stays on your jaw, now gently grasping your face.

Ayato has been keeping an eye out of you with the help of Cyno, the General from Sumeru who's also your assistant. For ten years, he had known you even without meeting you, in general. He watches you from afar, the suffers you experienced and the tragic scenarios that happened to you — every single detail of your life — he knew it all.

He wanted to save you, but the heavy crime your family had made to ruin his own is unforgivable. He grew up quickly, his childhood forgotten and has to take care of the clan that was left for him. At a young age, he work for the sake of his family and his younger sister.

But, you also experienced the same with another scenario. You've lost your innocence at a young age, you've lost your dignity as a woman the moment your father had his hands all over you. Despite your protest, he tortured you with his vision instead while your older twin did nothing. The constant torture and pain had you turning numb through the years.

He's not mad at you, he's mad at what your supposed to be relationship had been ruined, even though you has yet to meet him.

"Just," Ayato felt a tug on his kimono as you buried your face on his chest, wrapping both of your arms around his waist and he melted in your touch. "Do anything and save me from this suffering."

He waited long enough for you.

Ayato will be selfish this time.

Your eyes fall open when you felt an electrocuting feeling that travels through your body, eyes widening as you push yourself away from him, flinching from suffocating feeling in your body as you silently gasp, vision slightly blurrying at the twitch of your every vein.

"Lady —!"

You brought a hand to stop him from stepping closer to you as you pant. The familiar feeling of this sudden power urging in your body is making you nauseous. Your father's vision was all over you - his power to electrify and turn you into a mindless puppet is activating yet again. The vision that was tied up on your waist is loosing its nature and you could only gasp at the feeling of being a puppet again.

Not in front of him.....

"D-Don't.... come any.... closer." You've managed to say before your eyes rolled at the back of your head and your vision blacked out.

It doesn't take a matter of time when your father slamming the door open where you're located, already dashing towards you with a faux look of concern on his face — knowing this is his doing. He could tell what happened inside this room by listening to your heartbeat; it became calm and collected and knowing that sign is just up to no good.

Were you acting just to escape this scenario or did you really fell for this man at first sight?

Nevertheless, he was furious and confuse to say, at least. Now that the first step of his plan failed successfully, he's making sure that you will play along with his further plans.

"My daughter, what happened?! What did you do, Lord Kamisato?!" He immediately blamed the Yashiro Commissioner, who seemed genuinely shocked and concerned at your state. "Oh, my daughter!"

“Call a doctor! Please!” Your father’s fake concern is now turning into reality when he put his fingers on your pulse that seems to slow down its beat and weakened in process. He didn’t mean nor attempt to murder his own child — it was just part of the plan and you’re not even listening to his commands!

THIS IS NOT HIS FAULT.

His whole body shooked as he felt your slow hearbeat and it seems like the people around him weren’t helping as they stared. Is this Kamisato Ayato’s payback? But, you can’t die! He can’t afford to lose his favorite child — his most obedient and precious child.... the one he tormented and carved into perfection. It was you! You were his perfect daughter, you were everything he could ask for.

He tortured you perfectly, made you his perfect puppet of a daughter and have you satisfy his own desires, although you always refused to be touched, you’re always gonna pay for that unacceptable actions, anyway as he sends bolts of electricity to run through your body that travels in every pits of your brain and have you gasping and hallucinating.

That created the other you.

You are an only child.

You are his only child.

Yet, at the sudden burst of emotions and raging vision, you created another version of yourself; a version of your father’s desires.

A version of a person you doesn’t want you to be.

THIS IS ALL HIS FAULT.

“CYNO!” He called him as the said man hurriedly run through the scene, already sweating at the sight of your paling skin and bluish lips. He slightly push your father away to carry you, hooking his arms on the back of your shoulder and knees as he keep you close, your body slowly turning cold and his heart beats fast when he realized.

He’s not dumb, nor into oblivion. He knew you too well than you knew yourself.

Yet, once again, he failed to save you.

In the midst of running outside the Kamisato estate, he could feel the Yashiro Commissioner following behind his fast pace — hearing a faint plead in the scorching cold wind as it reaches his ears;

“My Lady, please, stay with me.”

“She’s an only child,” Cyno blurted out as soon as the doctor leaves the room, leaving him and Ayato in an awkwards silence. Cyno’s eyes landed on your unconscious state, delectable sighing at the sight of your calm face that, although it’s calm, he can’t help but to worry that you might not be able to wake up anymore — or your nightmares will successfully haunt you in your sleep. “She’s been assaulted by her father after his wife died. Maybe, because Young Lady really look like her mother..... or maybe, it’s just the way of how he show his love to his daughter. Nevertheless, it was disturbing and disgusting. And, I did nothing but to only hear her cries as she refused to see me after it was ended,”

“Both of you share the same similary in life; the women who gave you this birth of life were killed by the same man. Maybe, that’s why she asked for assistance, even though it will also betray herself as a daughter to her father.”

Ayato stared at him, examining the way he looks at you with admiration amd hope glimmering in his eyes — it makes his stomach churned and his chest tight. Yet, he can’t lift a finger on the moment as Cyno exclaimed the truth and the fact that both of your mothers had been killed by the only man he despises, and the man that you called father.

You were so nice, so pure, too good in this world as he realized that you can easily escape by your father’s grasp with the help of this man in front of him. But, you didn’t — only because it was your personal matters and the General is your employee. Those standard has been engraved in your mind, tattooed in your heart.

That’s one of the reason why Ayato is in love with you.

He’s been mindlessly awaiting for your return to his life after ten years — where back when he’s young, he met you.

It was you again.

The young woman clad in slacks and button-up, longsleeve, white shirt that compliments your sharp aura, coat resting briefly on your shoulder as your stature is as elegant. He’s been seeing you at the same spot for a while now — a spot in the busy city of Inazuma where you can see the view of a lake and koi fishes swimming in the clear water.

He’s been enticed at the look on your glowing face as though it was your first time here. Well, maybe it is by the way you wore differently and obviously from a first class family. His own self were to keep coming back at this time of the night just to watch you from afar.

He staggers a little closer to where you are standing, yet it still far away as you seems in a deep thought, too deep that you didn’t bother to look at him when he finally approaches you — this time, you have a dark fedora hat that hid your face away from his vision, but he can stil see the shape of your nose and lips on his view.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” He spoke, rather than a greetings. He’s stunned by his sudden statement, he wasn’t suppose to say that! It was clearly a figure of speech for a confession of love.

And, you were aware of it.

He saw how your lips quirked up in a slight smirk and he felt embarrased, flushed pink as he internally scream to himself.

“Indeed, another peaceful night in the city.” You answered and his heart begins to rumble on his chest when he finally got to hear your voice — it was soothing on his ears as you spoke in a smooth voice, almost a little breathless as you puffed a breath. You seems deep in your own thoughts as he leaned on the railings, you still didn’t caught a glimpse of the stranger talking to you, but you took a glimpse of hands covered in dark gloves.

“Inazuma is a beautiful city, not to bribe since I am raised here, but it truly is.” His voice is laced with a hint of playfulness as the atmosphere turned comfortable enough, even though you still hadn’t take any glance of him.

“Yes, I can totally see it. This city is not only the beautiful one here; even the people too,” He’s quite caught off guard by your statement as he glance at you, seeing as how you’re now peeking to take a look at him under your fedora as he took a sharp, surprised breath when he finally had the chance to take a look at your eyes — glimmering under the moonlight as your lips looks lucious painted with chapstick, your eyelashes were fluttered just enough to let him know what you really meant behind those words as his face flushed with a hint of embarassment and admiration. “Truly, you were stunned with my words, Mister. Or is it because you’ve finally managed to caught my attention?”

“Well, I certainly did caught your attention, but you managed to overcharmed me with my antics. I never knew you were such a smooth talker.” You chuckled at his reply. He was clearly stunned as he rambled with his words, clearly flustered.

“I’ll thank you for that compliment, Mister. It seems like, you are very familiar with this city, yes?” You continue the conversation, and Ayato were happy to talk as much when you seemed interested to make conversation with him — finally, he could hear your voice as his lavender eyes never left you. He’s awestruck, looking at the very scenery in front of him in adoration.

He can’t believe, he had been pining over you for how long it takes that he’s willing to do anything just to cross your path again, just to see your pretty face again. It’s been a decade, a whole ten years he wasted just to put up a courage and reach you out with his own hand. Everything is now coming in place, yet he knew you still needed time to recollect things. He can’t come reaching for you that easy..... as of now, you are emotionally broken and physically exhausted. But, maybe this is the time where he could take care of you now, like a wife.

His wife.

That sounds.... so right.

And, later on, he hopes you will be able to feel the same.

“That’s why, I beg you,” Cyno’s words snapped him out of his thoughts as he glance at the white haired man that has been staring at you. “Please, be patient and take care of her.”

“Oh, you’re awake.”

It’s a surprise for the younger Kamisato to see you sitting on the bed. It’s been a month of being bedridden and unconscious, whenever her older brother’s not around, Ayaka will be the one waiting for you to wake up.

She’s the witness of her brother’s longing for you — as he described you as a quite daring lady with an attitude, right now, you were inna complete silent as you stared at the young lady with the same lavender eyes of her own brother, leaving you quite shakened at the fact that every memories before you’ve became unconscious coming back like a tidal waves crashing on the shore. It makes you quite dizzy as your hand came contact with the tip of your lips and Ayaka had stared at you knowingly.

“He’s been waiting for your wake. How are you feeling, Lady?” She approached you gently and surely, sitting at the edge of the bed on your side. “Here, have a glass of water.”

She reached to the bedside where a small table were aligned, reaching for the newly poured glass of water as you accepted the kind offer of the young lady, sipping on the lukewarm water as you sighed.

“Are you going to marry my brother?” Her question caught you off guard as you choked on the water, coughing a little as you stared at her in bewilderedment. Marry? Him? Thinking about everything that had happened between the Kamisato and your family is all and messy, and being tied up or worse, being married with the man you want to love and loathed with your life at the same time makes you want to run away.

“I think, you’ve got the wrong idea here, Young Lady,” You replied with a stern voice, eyeing the young lady intently. “I am an enemy and a threat in your family.”

“He didn’t thought of you that way.” She immediately answered and you sighed frustratedly.

“Clearly, he’s making a gain out of this.” You shook your head, flipping the blanket out of your way as you stood up, fumbling slightly and Ayaka slightly panicked at the sight — she already figures out that you’ll run away again as you put on your shoes that was on the side of the bed, putting all your strength to stand up and the young lady stood on your way.

“I don’t blame you for my mother’s death so, is he, so stop making everything is your fault. If he will ever blame you at something, maybe it was because you keep running away from him.”

“Why is he in love with me in the first place? We’ve barely know each other, and on top of that —”

“There’s no thousands of reasons for someone to be in love and this is not the first you saw each other, Lady Y/N. Please, remember my brother and, maybe you’ll consider. He loves you dearly.” She reached for your hand — it felt surprisingly warm and you stared at the pen she gave you and you vaugely realized what it meant.

You heave a sigh as you stood outside of his office — Ayaka had told you that Ayato is not on the mansion as he travels for a while without knowing the reasons, yet she told you he kept his office open even though he never left his office room unlocked.

You reached for the doorknob, twisting your wrist as you enter the familiar room — a sense of deja vu had hit you when you remembered what happened in this very room, on the spot where his table and chair is located.

A surge of warm sensation hit you when you remembered how his lips felt on yours and you tried to shake the thoughts out of your head as you arrived in front of his table.

Ayaka told you a certain file that Ayato prepared for you, and you already have an idea of what is it, but still, a surge of anxiousness hit you when you found it on the cabinet of his table.

“This.....” Your voice trailed as you stared at the paper, reading the entire file with trembling hands as your eyes landed on the pen on your hold. Ayaka is not forcing you to sign the paper that will tied you to her older brother for a lifetime. You eyed the paper hesitantly before you decided to sit on the chair.

“How absurd,” You whispered to yourself as you clench your fist. “You really think I would sign this?”

Ayato had arrived in his estate where the moon is already at its domain, it’s striking on the dark sky brightly as it illuminates in the room on his bed, where a familiar figure sitting on the edge. He halts when he closed the door.

You huffed. You’ve been waiting for him the whole night and he stands there, too stunned at the conscious sight of you. You gritted your teeth in annoyance before you stood up as you marched towards him.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Commissioner.” Your voice sounds harsh as he snapped out of his thoughts and his eyes landed on your form, wearing a white robe without nothing underneath. Your eyes looks dark and enriching as you pull him by his collar, slamming your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his neck to cage him close to you, the sound that escapes his lips only urge you.

His hands lands on your hips, his resistance to push you away disappeared when your hands started to roam around his body — to his chest where you push him slightly around as he landed a little forceful to the bed where it creaks loudly on the silence of the night. Ayato sighed in your mouth when he tasted the bitterness of the alcohol on your tounge — he hesitates to touch you when he smell the alcohol mixed with your intoxicating scent, but all of his hesitations merely disappered when your hands fumbled on his kimono, removing his upper clothes as you continue to kiss him; all tounge and teeth grazing on his lips and tounge as his grip on you tightened when your hips started to move on his lap.

His breathing is in unsteady rhythm when you finally remove his upper clothes, his other hand landed on the bed to steady himself with your harsh kiss. Your arms are yet to wrapped around his neck again, nails grazing on his back as he unexpectedly moans in your mouth. You finally let him breathe for a moment, only to reconnect your lips on his jaw, the smoothness of his skin were velvet on your lips as your harsh mouth marks his skin — painting him with your feverish series of kisses, teeth and tounge until your satisfied.

You slightly move away from him, admiring the art you made on his skin that was surely hard to cover for days. His lavender eyes were alluring under the moonlight — the only source of light in his dark room; you were no exception — you look heavenly on his gaze, the robe on your body had slipped on your shoulder enough to let him have a peak of your cleavage that is yet to be explored. But, your patience waiting for him all night is thin.

“My Lady? What’s the matter?” He asks you as you kissed your teeth together in annoyance. “This..... are you sure about this? We should probably let you sober for a moment —”

“I’m not drunk!” You raised your voice, brushing your hair away from your face as you gripped on his shoulder for support.

“I only drink two glass, Commissioner. If you won’t take me right here and now, I’ll kill you instead.” You huffed as you reach for his hand on your hips, guiding it on the crook of your neck as you sighed at the feeling of his large hand, he brushed his thumb over your skin as he pulls you again for a seething kiss — softer and slower this time unlike your previous pace. You mewl on his mouth when his hand brushed on your chest, cupping one mound on his warm hand as his thumb brushes on your nipple — the robe wrapped around your body had dropped all the way down.

You curse under your breath when his hand started to roam around your body, mapping every part that is making you twitch and mewl on his lap. His hand wandered on your thigh, caressing the skin before his hand brushes between your thighs and you gasped, eyes shooting open as you slightly pushed him away from your lips.

You hummed when his fingers started to caress between your thighs as he coats his fingers with your essence. You throw your head back as he drinks at the sight of your figure shaking on top of him — all bare and ready for him to take you. He eyed you with the same burning desire when your eyes landed on him as you grind down on his fingers before he let one finger slipped in, relishing at the warmth and how tight it convulsed on his digit — you moaned, pulling him closer to your chest as you buried your face on his neck, making a series of bluish puple marks as you heavily sigh against his skin.

“Ayato...” A mumble of his name as you call for him. He could feel the heat bubbling on his chest straight on his restraining cock confines still on his pants. He started to move his finger inside you, grinding on that certain spot he subconsciously found that has you panting and moaning as you muffled your voice on his shoulder where you bite and suckle on the skin. He slipped in another finger and you let out a broken moan, nails digging on his skin.

“Ah —! I’m close.” You could feel the coil tightening on the pits of your stomach, bubbling on the sensation of his two fingers scissoring you open and he felt you tightening on his digits, soaking his fingers with your essence — just a little more, and you’re there — not until he pulled his fingers out and you whined, tears pricked your eyes when the sensation disappeared momentarily as your body shake on top of him.

“Y-You bastard! I was close!” You sttuters in complain.

“As much as I want to pleasure you, I am losing my patience here, sweetheart.” He replied and you huffed, fumbling on his pants. He distract you, pulling you in a kiss as he sighed in your mouth when he’s finally free from his pants, the cold air contrasting with the warm feeling of your body as he hikes your hips up, his other hand holding his cock as he lined up with your entrance. You bit on his lips when the head catches on your clit, before he tease his way on your entrance, the hand on your hip guides you down and you moaned at the stretch, the first inch of his cock making its way inside you.

The burning sensation hurts so good as you push your way down until you can’t anymore. You push him down until he layed on the bed, propping his elbows in, so he could see you. He’s not even halfway inside, but you could feel your legs shake at his above average size — maybe, Ayato could’ve open you properly with his fingers when you seemed to struggle to take him all in. He eyed the way you’re trembling on top of him, you were dripping, though, it’s not enough to take him all.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” His other hand reached over to the both of your hands as he put it down on his chest and the other hand intertwining with yours. Your heart pounds on your chest at the gesture when he squeezes your hand. Something inside of you bubbling at the sensation of his cock and the way he looks at you; it was daring and full of passion as his lavender eyes never left your figure, he sits upright as his other arm wrapped around you to keep you still. “You can take me. I know you can do it.”

You hissed. You clearly isn’t used in this kind of treatment. You quite expected that maybe, if you were to seduce him tonight, he will force his way to you — but, your expectations differ when he let you take his fingers first even though, he edge you to climax. You were used having someone forcing you in this kind of activity.

“S-Shut up.” You answered and he grins, placing a chaste kiss on your lips, whispering praises on your ears when you took another bunch of inch inside of you.

It felt never-ending as you felt full now he’s halfway as he eyed on your lower stomach, pressing on the bulge and you yelp. You could feel the denied orgasm coming back to you in a surge when your ass finally came contact on his thighs, your voice were muffled by your hand as you bit down at the feeling.

You could feel, you could see him there, inside of you, buried inside to the hilt as the blunt head of his cock kissed on your cervix — the thickness and stretch of him is enough to touch the certain spot inside of you that had you crumbling in a bliss of oblivion as you came, writhing and grinding down om his more as he watched you fumble in a beautiful mess on top of him. He moaned, relishing at the feeling of your walls tightening and convulsing as he chokes at the sensation. You’re shaking and thighs trembling as you finally came down on your high, panting loudly as your mouth agape.

“Ah — wait, Ayato —!”

He gripped on your hips when you tried to move. “I told you, I could wait. Don’t force yourself, sweetheart.”

“Stop boasting about how big you are!” You replied in annoyance as you huffed, gripping on his shoulders for support. “Let me — l-let me move, bastard.”

He grins again, pecking on your lips before his grip on your hips loosened a little and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest on him as he started to mark your ches, neck, and jaw with his lips as he sighed when you started to move slowly — up and down as you mewl at the feeling of his cock brushing on every and very spots inside you as you scratch your nails on his skin.

The hand on your hips guide you up and down as you created a steady rhythm — the sound of your bodies making contact filled the room as his breaths became foggy and unrelenting, eyeing the way your eyes rolled on the back of your head when your pace started to move faster until he can’t hold back his voice anymore.

“Y/N,” He moans your name and he felt your body shivered on his touch. “Let me, sweetheart.”

He whispered on your lips and you open your eyes in confusion as you halted, panting hardly and you yelped when he flipped you, your back comes contact with the soft sheets of his bed without pulling out entirely inside of you, your legs instinctly wrapped around his waist.

“Wait —! Still sensitive... Ayato —!” You tried to push him away by his chest as he pushed his light blue hair away from his face and momentarily stared at his stature — seeing him all naked in glory as the moonlight reflects on his panting figure.

“You can take it, right?” His nose graze on your cheek as he placed a kiss there, slowly and surely, he’s pushing all of him again inside you, eyeing your shaking figure and the erotic expression written on your face; your eyes are cloudy and widening, swollen lips parting, series of moans and his name falling on your lips as he pulls back to leave the tip inside just to thrust back again, angling his hips a little higher as he hits that spot.

His pace were slow, yet his thrusts were calculated and hard as his hips snap on the back of your thighs — he never goes faster as he make love with you slowly and deeply until you were coming again and again, coating his cock with your essence as he tried to muffle your moans with the help of his lips, drowning your sounds of pleasure on his mouth when you started to get louder than he expected — he’s no exception too as he comes, painting your walls white, filling you to the brim as he moans and whimpers on your lips.

“You can take more?” His question doesn’t sound interrogative even when his hips started to move again as your eyes filled with tears of pleasure and joy that you realized — the walls you built for him came crashing down as he make love to you — pushing your body to your limits with his deep, yet still slow thrusts until you were a moaning mess, marking each other all im while as he whispered those words that has your heart pounding on your chest.

“I love you.”

You bit back the urge to cry your heart out, feeling that swirling on your chest and the clench of your heart as you rethinks your choice; you signed on the marriage paper — you don’t regret that part, you won’t regret being his bride, his wife, and the future child that will grow after tonight — what you regret is your final decision that surging in your mind, the decision that will surely breaks him — because right now, the thought of being in love frightened you,the thought of finally having something to live to is making you crumble in the dark. But, you know he will understand you — you know he’ll wait until you’re finally ready. Right now, you were in the midst of chaos, right now, you will surely break his heart.

His runaway bride.

Disclaimer; This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

#[❤; niko’s oneshots]#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #ayato x fem!reader #kamisato ayato #ayato #genshin ayato #ayato kamisato imagines #ayato x you #genshin ayato x reader #genshin cyno #genshin ayaka #ayato smut

318 notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 4 months

Note

Cheater! Miguel is an ass, a Tyler Stone 2.0 while Dana is going through character development, I'm so proud of her ;)

I'm so curious to see how and when, and simply why this Miguel decides all of a sudden to help reader in the future because for now, he's an ass.

Gonna enjoy the gradual shift of his personality and I know is not gonna be

"Boss! Your ex-fling is having issues with her job and taking care of the babe"

Then miguel is going to be super present in the baby's life.

I took inspiration from a summary of a book with an unrealistic male love interest and spineless MCs, yet here I'm enjoying reading this Miguel and the reader because they feel human: MC's trauma is not thrown there then avoided and treated by sex; it does scar you and takes you years to heal.

Miguel is narcissistic, yet I'm interested in his journey and I LOVE how you don't justify any of his crap done to Dana and the reader.

I'm gonna confess I love how MJ is there for the reader :)

I'm gonna bet that Gabriel in this universe doesn't talk to his brother... AS HE SHOULD

I absolutely love your take on this ❤️. As for Miguel's redemption, you'll have to wait a bit more cause karma is out there to get him first. He needs a shake up before anything ❤️.

As for MC's trauma, I didn't want to go the usual way. (Cause I'm aware that people going through trauma process it differently. Some become hypersexual and stuff and others resort to unhealthy coping mechanisms. And I'm kinda tired of seeing the first.)

I'm doing a lot of research and Postpartum Psychosis is... fucking scary and messed up, and mental illness regarding pregnancy. I feel its not something that is addressed often even in fiction, and hopefully my rendition to it shows how bad some pregnancies are. (I don't like romanticizing maternity)

Ngl, I'm mad invested in this story. I know it's an enemies to friends to lovers, and I'm also nervous of his transition of being a Tyler 2.0 to a humbled Miguel. Cause I've been feeding the hate for him jsksj and healing is far from easy. Cause MC must deal with her own demons too. I always try to give both their perspective in each chapter so you can see thw progress or recession of each ~

And as for Gabriel, all I'm saying is that he'll give the final stab 👀 ~ Things are getting a bit more intense, so, stay tuned ❤️.

Thanks for your thoughts ☺️

#talking with t✨#Of Flowers and Hummingbirds

25 notes · View notes

arainbowofchaos · 9 months

Text

Forbidden Euphoria [Chapter 5]

As Jungkook's connection with you deepens, he gradually shifts from his playboy history to a more open and vulnerable version of himself, all the while accompanied by his enthusiastic canine companion, Bam.

Tags: Jungkook x Reader, Jungkook isn't monogamous, Jung-Hyun makes an apparition along with Bam :) (no smut in this part)

Length: 2.7k words

A/N: This chapter focuses on delving into a better comprehension of Jungkook. Although his actions aren't condoned, they are explored within a wider perspective.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

...

Jungkook has never been the monogamous type. At the age of 5, his best girl friend wanted them to be together. But he said no because he remembered how his father used to hurt his mother every night. He thought love always ended up causing pain to someone.

By the time he turned 15, puberty hit and he became more popular with girls. Due to persistent advances from one of them, he finally gave in. Even though he didn't find her particularly attractive or funny, strangely, this made him not care if he hurt her. Later on, he started dating another girl while still being with the first one, leading to the unintentional breaking of his first hearts. The thing is, he didn't want to get too emotionally attached. He had seen how bad it could be, so he didn't want to live like that.

At 17, he was simultaneously dating at least 6 different girls, engaging intimately with all of them. His friends dubbed him "the king." He simply thought, I provide them pleasure without harming myself. Although he cared for all of them, he lacked a desire to favor any particular connection.

At 20, his parents' divorce brought immense relief; he believed he could finally straighten things out in his life. He tried to commit exclusively to one girl. She possessed beauty, humor, and a strong love for food. They cohabitated, shopped for furniture, and cooked meals together. He convinced himself that he could embrace a more conventional path.

However, six months later, she caught him in bed with one of her friends.

Feeling alone and realizing she wasn’t available, he messed up.

Post-incident, he offered apologies and parted ways. Recognizing that committed relationships were not his journey, he vowed never to entangle himself again. This decision was born out of a desire to spare others pain and honor his own needs.

…

And then there's you. Your entrance into his life is like a gentle breeze, soothing and calming. Your dedication to work, clear objectives, and contrasting personality catch his attention right away. Your unwavering focus and determination despite challenges become a magnet for his curiosity.

His interest is piqued. He wants to know more about you, and he finds in each interaction an opportunity to get closer. The extra hours at the office are no longer a means of distancing himself but an excuse to be near you. You, who seem not to have someone waiting for you at home, become the focal point of his attention.

He truly desires for you to hold a positive opinion of him and to see him as a decent person. You stand out from everyone he encountered previously. Your dedication to your work and your clear life objectives sharply contrast with his own uncertain demeanor. This is why he holds you in high regard.

He's perceptive enough to see beyond your surface and recognizes your vulnerability, even though you attempt to appear strong at work. Your consistent blushing when he hints or gazes at you indicates that you haven't been treated kindly by men before. This upsets him because you deserve better. You're worth far more than he could ever offer. Yet, he's determined to give you the very best he can.

He would carry the weight of regret throughout his life if he missed the chance to be with a woman like you. That very first night at the hotel, he poured his heart and soul into ensuring it would be a memory etched in your mind forever. Never before had he encountered a woman so refined and precious. But then you caught him getting into the car with someone else, and he felt like he was 20 again, caught red-handed. He did warn you he wasn't single, but the way you hurried away showed him how much he was hurting you, and it hurt him too.

It was this sequence of events that led him to your doorstep, utterly intoxicated, with alcohol acting as his catalyst to summon the courage needed to see you. How does he tell a woman like you, I’m afraid of being alone and I’m a selfish jerk? He finds himself at a loss for words. Instead, he chooses to candidly share his need for personal freedom, even though deep down, all he truly yearns for is to find solace in your embrace for an eternity. The prospect of his own feelings terrifies him.

Yet, when you mention the possibility of being with someone else – that you might also look for another person – he loses his composure. You don’t understand; if he's going to sleep with other girls, it's to escape from loneliness and to avoid suffocating you with his constant need for attention. His intention is to prevent you from growing weary of him. While if you were to date someone else, you might find a person who's ready for commitment, and he fears you could quickly forget about him.

For Jungkook, these feelings aren't just casual. He's open to evolving, to becoming a better version of himself worthy of your love, even though he can't make any promises. His willingness to embrace transformation arises from a genuine desire to protect you from hurt, even if it means he might endure his own.

…

Jungkook observes your peaceful slumber, your slow breaths betraying your comfort. The idea of waking you up tugs at his heart, but he recognizes the necessity. He doesn't want to depart abruptly after the night you've shared, striving to avoid any perception that he's eager to leave.

"Hello, beautiful," he murmurs in a soft voice. His hand rests on your leg, a gentle caress aimed at rousing you. You emit a groan of complaint, eventually peeling open one eye. The morning tableau that meets your gaze is rather pleasant - Jungkook in his boxers, his abs and tattoos on full display. Your gaze doesn't hold back.

"Do you like what you see?" He playfully teases, evoking a bashful response from you as you bury your head in the pillow. Memories of the previous night flood over you, and a blush creeps onto your cheeks as you replay your conversations. It's almost surreal to think that it's you who experienced it all.

"I need to head back to take care of Bam. He missed me yesterday, poor thing," he reluctantly imparts. He'd prefer to linger with you, but his paternal responsibilities beckon. You don't want him to leave; he appears so youthful and innocent, his big round eyes reflecting disappointment as he prepares to depart.

He's the same man who mentioned wanting to see you and other girls. You wonder if he's really being truthful. Could he be using this as an excuse to meet someone else without hurting you? Doubts start to creep in, and you question yourself for being cautious.

"Go, I'll be fine."

"You can come with me if you want."

You really do want to. The strong desire to know him better, to uncover his story, is clear. Even though you don't expect to change him, putting together all the pieces of the puzzle might provide some comfort as you deal with the situation.

The bus route takes you past your workplace, and you're taken aback that Jungkook leaves his hand on your thigh, even though you could encounter someone familiar at any moment. Thoughts cross your mind about whether colleagues might discover your connection, potentially leading to complications. Instances like these tend to further tarnish a woman's image. Nonetheless, you dismiss these concerns, believing that true feminism entails not being bothered by others' opinions, right?

You rest your head on his shoulder, hearing his soft chuckle full of affection. He plants a gentle kiss on your head, and you can't help but wonder why things can't remain as uncomplicated as they are between you two.

Upon arriving at his place, a large Doberman eagerly rushes to his owner, prompting you to step back and allow their reunion. The dog's barking directs your attention, and you respond by moving closer to give it a few affectionate strokes. "I was right, he's cuter than you," you playfully jest, a smile forming on your lips.

Observing the interaction, Jungkook notices Bam's enthusiastic response to you, mirroring the flutter in his own chest.

Feeling a sense of pride as he introduces you to his cherished canine companion, your thoughts drift to whether he has introduced Bam to others and how many others might there be.

As you gaze upon Bam, you can't help but wish for a way to clear your mind of these thoughts. Almost as if attuned to your inner turmoil, Jungkook's voice interrupts your reverie. "Bam only knows my closest friends. And even though you mean more to me than that, I want you as a friend too, if you're okay with that." He nervously scratches the back of his neck, leaving you torn between confusion and affection.

"I could be your friend," you reply, although you wish for something more than friendship. The distance between you two feels suffocating, urging you to take a step forward. You gently cradle his face in your hands, bridging the gap with a kiss that surprises him.

"But friends don't do that," you retort after a pause, playfully teasing. Jungkook's blush reveals his unspoken desire, and for the first time, you notice the hint of color on his cheeks.

Bam's energetic barking prompts you to decide, "We could go for a walk. Let’s make Bam happy too."

Jungkook agrees, recognizing the specialness of this occasion – his first time walking Bam with a woman. He's as delighted as his tail-wagging dog.

Together, you stroll to a nearby park, coffee in hand and Bam's leash in the other. Simple moments like these bring you both joy and relief, allowing you to escape the mounting tension from earlier.

"Do you want to discuss last night?" he inquires, his tone carrying a serious undertone. "What do you mean by 'last night'?"

"It was rather... intense. I've never spoken like that before."

A warmth spreads across your cheeks as memories flood back, leaving you breathless. You attempt to regulate your breath as Jungkook halts, guiding you to meet his gaze. "I don't want you to feel embarrassed around me. I love sensing you let go, and I'm curious about discovering more together. I think you might like it too.”

Interrupted by Bam's growling, you're momentarily speechless. You've never allowed yourself to be so vulnerable with someone before. But then again, no one else is quite like Jungkook.

"I've never been... into this kind of thing before. I guess I was... turned on by the way you talked to me?" you manage to say, stumbling over your words.

"Do you enjoy it when I tease you - when I put you down?"

The knot inside you tightens, warmth spreading – he's hit the mark, quite literally. But you can't admit it.

"No, it's just..."

A ringing phone interrupts your conversation, and you're very much relieved. Jungkook apologizes as he takes out his phone and answers quickly. You patiently wait for him to finish his call while playing with Bam.

"Hey... I'm outside, taking Bam for a walk."

"No, I'm with Y/N."

"I... I'll check with her."

"See you tonight."

Following this conversation, what Jungkook asks of you genuinely catches you off guard and leaves you unprepared.

"So...would you be interested in meeting my brother?"

As you agree, a mix of anticipation and nervousness swirls within you. You, who wanted answers about Jungkook's past, might finally be getting just that.

…

After returning to Jungkook's apartment following your walk, you spend the entire afternoon nestled in the comfort of his bed. As the sun starts its descent, your emergence from the shared cocoon is accompanied by a lingering sense of contentment that hangs in the air like a comforting fragrance.

A revitalizing shower rinses away the traces of the day's closeness, leaving you feeling renewed. After slipping into fresh clothes, you step into the kitchen where Jungkook is orchestrating a culinary masterpiece.

His gaze meets yours, and a genuine smile graces his lips. "Make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon."

You settle into a cozy corner, your eyes tracing the graceful dance of Jungkook's movements as he works his culinary magic. The symphony of utensils and cookware, along with the soft melodies playing in the background, creates a soothing ambiance that envelops the space. This shared culinary endeavor becomes a moment of intimacy, a small yet significant step in your growing connection.

Just as the tantalizing aromas of the meal start to weave their way around the room, the door swings open, revealing another presence. Jungkook's brother, Jung-Hyun, steps in with a genial smile. "Hey, dinner smells amazing in here."

Jungkook's features transform, a mixture of surprise and delight playing across his face. "You're early, Hyun."

A chuckle escapes Jung-Hyun as he approaches you, his hand extended in a friendly gesture. "You must be the one colleague Jungkook can't stop talking about. I'm Jung-Hyun."

You shake his hand, exchanging a smile that carries a sense of genuine warmth. "Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N."

Jung-Hyun takes a seat opposite you, and the three of you engage in casual conversation. The atmosphere is easygoing, and Jung-Hyun's presence seems to complement Jungkook's, adding another layer of comfort to the space. As dinner progresses, the stories flow naturally, and you're intrigued by the glimpses Jung-Hyun shares about their childhood and experiences growing up.

In the midst of this lively exchange, you pick up on subtle cues - the way Jungkook's shoulders tense and his brows furrow whenever their parents are mentioned. It's as if there's a hidden chapter of their lives that elicits these reactions, unspoken stories etched into their expressions.

"Perhaps you should visit Dad sometime," his brother suggests casually. "He's been missing you."

Jungkook's response is swift and firm. "I'm not as forgiving as you are."

As the conversations ebb and flow, you're flooded with the urge to inquire, to unravel the enigma lurking beneath their words. Yet, you're mindful of not prying too deeply, not wishing to stir discomfort in Jungkook's heart. Graciously, Jung-Hyun senses your curiosity and offers his own insight.

"Our father had a streak of violence - directed not only towards our mother but also at Jungkook. I'm the exception." The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, and you catch the apologetic look Jung-Hyun shoots his younger brother's way. It's a glimpse into the guilt he harbors, a silent lament for not having shielded Jungkook from the storm.

The conversation drifts onto lighter shores as dinner continues, anecdotes and laughter intertwining. Your fingers find their way to Jungkook's back, tracing gentle patterns of solace since learning about his past. It's a subtle show of support, a silent promise that you're here, willing to listen and understand, whenever he's ready to share.

As Jung-Hyun heads out, he plants a friendly peck on your cheek, a genuine smile gracing his lips. The warm touch lingers on your skin, and you can't help but sense his approval. Leaning in, he whispers, "Look after him, I'm putting my trust in you," and you respond with an instinctive nod - it's precisely what you've been hoping for.

The evening gently winds down, casting a warm glow through the kitchen. With just you and Jungkook, the room feels like a sanctuary of shared experiences and unspoken understandings.

"I hope this isn’t too much," his words are a soft murmur, carrying a vulnerable undertone.

Your smile in return carries reassurance, a reflection of your genuine appreciation. "Thank you for letting me in."

The tension that once clenched his shoulders seems to dissipate, leaving behind an authentic sigh of relief. His fingers intertwine with yours, the touch gentle and sincere.

In response, you give his hand a tender squeeze, conveying your unwavering presence and support. "Right here with you, Jungkook."

As you stand there, connected in both touch and understanding, he gazes at you with an expression that seems to reveal a fragility and youthfulness you hadn't noticed before. In that moment, you feel an overwhelming desire to shield him, to keep him safe forever.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #my words

46 notes · View notes

tactlesstuesdays · 1 year

Text

i can't pretend anymore - chiles <3

Miles's bedroom isn't overly spacious. It's tiny compared to Mika’s. But the room accommodates enough of his teenage memorabilia and that was enough for him. Any table or resting surface found itself swamped with dusted photos of his friends and old comic books. The walls are adorned with action movie posters, most of them had been recommended movies from Chapa and he'd naturally taken a liking to them. The room is, by all means, a burst of vibrant colours and is home to an electrifying energy that permeates the air.

The focal point of the room is a large, comfortable couch situated strategically in front of a mid-sized television. On either side of the television stand, towering shelves stretch from floor to halfway up the walls, housing an awe-inspiring collection of DVDs. Once Chapa had seen it, she'd implemented a weekly movie night to slowly watch all of Miles's collection. And Miles was too distracted by Chapa's fervent smile to even reject the idea.

And so it became an unspoken tradition. Every Friday. After their work had ended, Chapa would either walk back with Miles to his house for the movies and leave before midnight or Chapa would climb through his window (startling Miles usually) and accidentally fall asleep whilst immersed in the movie experience before leaving in the hours of early morning. Their movie nights allowed Chapa a break from her unbridled rage. There was no use for it with Miles. Her soft side could be expressed with no consequences, which is why Chapa gravitated so easily to Miles. Miles hadn't ever judged her gravely.

And this Friday was bound to be the same. Except Chapa had arrived late with tinted cheeks and scarcely any words passed to Miles. Miles gave her a sceptical expression, which she hastily brushed off, and with a minuscule smile insisted they started watching the movies. Chapa stared blankly forward even as Miles started the movie, her thoughts elsewhere and not even focusing as Miles passed her a bowl of popcorn.

As the movie rolls and the characters on-screen come to life, it becomes apparent that Chapa's attention wavers. Her restlessness grows, and it's obvious she wants to do something else. Her eyes occasionally crept over to Miles and he was watching the movie with palpable excitement and it caused a significant ache in her chest.

Truthfully, she hadn't been the same since Ray asked them all, bar Miles, if they'd ever been in love. Chapa had realised pretty quickly that Scar wasn't her type, no matter how much she'd prefer to pretend. It began as a gradual realization, a shift in her perspective that she liked Miles. She noted first that there was an undeniable charm to his enthusiasm, and that she found herself drawn to his infectious energy. Chapa relished the way they both teased Mika and Bose and the knowing smiles they shared. And Chapa remembered then that Miles was the only one not afraid of her. Mika could lie through her teeth that she wasn't petrified when Chapa's electricity stifled through the air, but she could be seen flinching at the vibrant red sparks. And Bose openly admitted his cowardice toward Chapa. Whilst Miles, if he ever had been, never expressed it. Chapa knew she was a struggle and a bomb waiting to ruin all that surrounds it, but Miles made her feel like that didn't matter. She and Miles shared laughter and conversations effortlessly flowered between the two.

Chapa marvelled at Miles's kindness and genuine nature. His unwavering support during her moments of doubt or vulnerability touched her deeply. He saw her for who she truly was, beyond the tough exterior, and appreciated her fierce determination and unique perspective on the world. And when Ray had asked if any of them had been in love, Chapa felt a fluttering in her heart. Once Miles had teleported back with his beaming smile adorning his cheeks, Chapa realised why. And Chapa hesitated now, her mouth burning as her confession melted on her tongue. Chapa was definite that Miles would reject her. He wouldn't feel the same and it would jeopardise their friendship.

"Chapa?" Miles asks. The movie had been paused for a while and Chapa hadn't even noticed. His voice broke her concentration and her eyes shifted to Miles, a delicate red laminating her cheeks.

"Yeah?" Chapa weakly replied.

"Are you okay? You seem a little bit out of it tonight," Miles continues, his tone laced with worry. He stares at Chapa with bothered and bewildered eyes and something unruly rises inside of him when Chapa's eyes can't meet his.

"Have you ever been in love?" Chapa recklessly blurts. With an inquisitive gleam in her eyes, she watches Miles. Miles, caught off guard by the question, furrowed his brow slightly and looked deep into Chapa's eyes.

At that moment, he realized how her question had struck a chord within him. He had always admired Chapa's boundless energy, her unwavering passion for life, and her ability to make him feel alive. Miles craved more time with Chapa, he enjoyed making her laugh and seeing that rare smile that always glistened. But it hadn't occurred to him until now that his feelings went beyond mere friendship.

As Miles fumbled for words, he tried to hide his sudden vulnerability, but Chapa's tenderness in her eyes made it difficult to keep his emotions in check. He took a deep breath, feeling a mix of trepidation and excitement, and began to speak.

"Well, I haven't thought about it. But, yeah, I think I have," Miles bashfully confesses. Chapa nodded slowly and her heart continued to ache as Miles confessed everything but nothing at the same time. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just something Ray said. It's nothing," Chapa meekly shrugs. Miles's eyebrows furrow as he watches Chapa, the movie long since forgotten.

Miles paused, gathering his thoughts before his mouth falls open to speak again, "It's not like you to openly discuss feelings. What happened to all feelings are disgusting?"

"I don't think all feelings are disgusting," Chapa mutedly argues. Her head is downcast and Miles regards her with squinting eyes. "I really don't, Miles. Especially not when I've begun to realise something."

Miles stopped and registered Chapa's words. His face contorted as the realisation seeped into his features with his heart racing. A calm blush spread Chapa's cheeks as she evaded Miles's gaze. "What did you realise, Chapa?"

Chapa's voice filled with a mixture of apprehension and sincerity, and she confessed, "I think I like you, Miles. And it's really weird, I haven't felt like this before."

Miles's eyes widened, and his lips parted slightly as he processed her words. His face transformed into a ridiculous but beautiful blend of surprise, wonder, and a hint of realization. The air seemed to stand still as the weight of their unspoken emotions hung in the air. Chapa's lips tugged downward as she'd just jeopardised the entirety of their friendship, her face was melancholic and disheartening and Miles fumbled to find the words to reassure Chapa.

"I like you too, Chapa. These little movie nights of ours have always been the highlight of my week," Miles responds, his voice swamped with urgency and integrity. After what felt like an eternity, Chapa's initial shock melted into a warm smile. The smile that only ever adorned itself whilst in Miles's presence and Miles reciprocates the smile with his own adoring one. The realization that their connection ran deeper than he had ever imagined filled him with a profound sense of happiness.

Miles cautiously placed his hand on top of Chapa's with a specific tenderness. Chapa didn't shake off his touch - she never had. Miles was the only giver of affection that Chapa didn't instantly reject, she would reject every single other person apart from his. Chapa shuffled closer to Miles on the couch, disregarding the popcorn bowls roaming the carpet. Her eyes shone with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

Their hearts beat in synchrony, their breaths slightly laboured with a mix of nervousness. "Miles," Chapa began, her voice laced with a gentle tremor, "Can you kiss me, please?"

Miles held his breath, his eyes locked onto Chapa's, captivated by the raw honesty that emanated from her every word. His heart pounded in his chest, matching the rhythm of the moment. Miles hadn't ever heard Chapa so unshielded, even in his company, she had always somewhat been protective of herself and her reputation.

Without uttering another single word, Miles closed the distance between them, his hands instinctively finding their way to Chapa's waist. Their eyes locked, each mirroring the same desire and longing. Time seemed to slow down as their bodies gravitated toward each other, drawn by an irresistible force. Their lips met in a tender, electrifying kiss that blossomed the unspoken connection between them.

They lost themselves in the sweet intoxication of the kiss, their lips moving in perfect harmony. It was a dance of vulnerability and passion, of two hearts finally finding solace in each other's embrace. But just as they began to lose themselves in the enchantment of that first kiss, the door to Miles's bedroom swung open with a sudden jolt. Mika stood at the threshold with her eyes wide and her mouth agape in shock.

"Holy shit!" Mika exclaimed, her voice piercing through the fragile bubble of their intimacy. Her surprise echoed throughout the room, shattering the spell that had enveloped her brother and Chapa, who quickly parted from one another with hurried gasps as they failed to regain their composures.

"Mika! What are you doing? Get out!" Miles shouts. Whilst Chapa evades Mika's frozen stare, too embarrassed at being caught by her friend.

"I was only going to ask if you had any popcorn! I didn't expect you two to be snogging eachother!" Mika defends opposingly and yet her words are laced with playful teasing. A pregnant pause follows as Miles shakes his head disapprovingly at his sister and loosely held a popcorn bowl in her direction and Chapa buried her burning face in her knees.

Mika snatched the bowl from Miles and exited the room just as swiftly as she had entered it. Chapa's face remained concealed whilst Miles stared emptily forward wondering if that had just happened. Miles's embarrassment gradually transformed into laughter; the tension dissipating as he embraced the foolish lightheartedness of the moment. Chapa gingerly raised her head and her eyes met Miles's again. "I'm sorry, you know she doesn't usually come in here. I really liked the kiss though, and you obviously," Miles apologises.

Miles slowly nods before the movie starts to play again, the characters returning to their vibrancy of characterised life. They caught each other's gentle gazes throughout the rest of the evening and just before Chapa disappeared out of the window, Miles pressed a parting kiss to Chapa's lips.

Chapa steadily chuckles with a sheepish rouge still crowning Chapa's cheeks. Once the short-lived laughter had died, Chapa responded, "It was great and I liked it, but I just really want to watch the movie now and try and get over that."

#danger force #chapa de silva #miles macklin #mika macklin #writing #chiles #fanfic

23 notes · View notes

shelbbswrites · 1 year

Text

I'm here to write about Shadow and Bone Season 2 — again. Shocker! But what can I say? I love the Grishaverse.

And I've been streaming this new season non-stop, so I keep glancing up and catching new details I like. So many of them wind up being diversions from the book that serve the story the show is telling well.

I've been meaning to write about this specific detail for a few days, but I keep losing track of time.

It's the Season 2 finale, "No Funerals," when Alina uses merzost to bring Mal back from the dead — but little does she know, she's ripping him away from peace.

The Shadow and Bone trilogy being from Alina's perspective means that those bigger twists in Ruin and Rising, like Nikolai's physical transformation and the psychological effects of Mal discovering that he's the Firebird, don't get a fuller perspective. It's an understandable side effect of making the heroine the narrator.

The TV show opens that door to a myriad of points of view which means Mal's autonomy and psychology are not only thoughts in Alina's mind but influential factors in a season-long story arc that is independent for Mal — gradually, as he questions whether his existence is dependent on Alina's heroism.

For me, it all culminates in that scene when Mal finds peace in the meadow, only to return to a life where he believes he has no purpose. That twist is packed with story opportunities, and Shadow and Bone utilizes it as a turning point for Mal within the time jump and (a hopeful!) Season 3 (Keep streaming!).

Ruin and Rising describes (and I'm paraphrasing here) Mal's second chance as a second life that was always his beneath the generational purpose of the Firebird, and Season 2 takes that second chance as a way to give Mal the freedom that matters at the core of this narrative. Choice and autonomy are crucial to this story. I wrote about it regarding Mal and Alina's relationship for CBR.

Becoming Sturmhond grants Mal that freedom, and I love what passing that title down means for Nikolai and Mal's dynamic in the show, which significantly differs from the source material.

The season spends time discussing the role of Sturmhond from Nikolai's point of view while expanding the impact of life at sea and the community it fosters through comments from Tolya, Tamar, and others. That life has a level playing field that Mal needs and in which he can thrive.

But nevertheless, that harrowing shot of Mal being yanked from peace stands out. And not only because I love how it was shot.

It's a common belief in fantasy and supernatural media that no one is ever the same when they come back from the dead (Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the standout in my mind as I write this.) So, I like that "No Funerals" doesn't pretend that Mal is the same, that something drastic didn't shift within him after all that.

It's an authentic angle in a fantastical story — a level of storytelling I believe the Grishaverse is excellent at delivering. So, overall, I like how it unfolded in those final two episodes of Season 2. Archie Renaux did a great job with everything.

And on a different yet similar note, I love that Alina uses merzost for the first time to save Mal rather than to command nichevo'ya. That difference from the books really works for me, too.

#shadow and bone #sab #grishaverse #mal oretsev #malina #malyen oretsev #shelbbswrites

20 notes · View notes

blanketwithcheese · 1 year

Text

‼️🦺⚠️warning: abelism⚠️🦺‼️

Attention I'm not a professional, so only take this as another POV

I recently checked out r/fake disorder cringe to see if they had any good points. I gotta broaden my perspective and all that.

Bad news, they had no good point (shocking, I know), good news, they gave me room to think about my opinion on both sides.

I might make more posts about this, and it will be unorganized because I'm clearly faking mental illnesses I never said I had.

So starting off with the dumbest thing I've seen be posted, someone was posted on Fdc because they wanted to get diagnosed... the kid wanted to get diagnosed with bpd because they felt tired of feeling crazy, you know what the comments talked about, they talked about how people will make you feel more crazy if you get diagnosed AND people were saying she might have developmental issues because her eyes were droopy???

Another warning for abelism

From what I've seen, fdc is big on actual diagnosis, and they DESPISE self diagnosis, so if you support getting diagnosing, why are you actively trying to hurt someone who's trying to get diagnosed. If they got diagnosed, then they wouldn't be self diagnosing, and they could possibly find out what they might actually have if it's not actually bpd.

But to bring up the points mentioned in the comments "could just be hormones" now I won't say this is the dumbest argument I've heard (if you've been on the subreddit then you know) but if they've been feeling this way long enough then maybe they know they have it, it's almost like they lived their life and you haven't been there their whole life. But if it is just hormones and they still get diagnosed and have to deal with trying to get rid of it, how does that effect you exactly, they are the ones who have to deal with hours of paperwork, phone calls, appointments, legal stuff probably, and much much more. It doesn't affect you and all you would need to do in the end if you sit back and go "HA TOLD YA SO" scummy, but you could do it.

Another comment thing I saw was people saying that dissociation can only equal DID, which isn't true. I even saw a post that was labeled as DID, and people still said they were faking DID in the comments. A recent post I saw was about this guy singing, and then he dissociates, and people in the comments said he was faking DID.

I'm gonna ignore their number one argument on the sub where they say, "It doesn't look like that😡" because that's too easy. Instead, I'm gonna talk about how it could just not be DID. First off, with something easy, if they like that song, they could dissociate due to an attention disorder, or just cus, the op also didn't show the caption so I don't even know if they are making the claim that they have DID. For all I know, the tiktoker could be saying, "I don't have DID. I was just being silly and wacky, lmao." Also ,it doesn't come on in a second." That would make sense because not only is the video sped up, but also you could see the gradual shift before finally dissociating.

I have more to say, so I will post more later

#mental illness #fdc #tw fdc

9 notes · View notes

jenomark · 3 years

Note

i’m so soft for haechan rn 😭 if you’re still accepting requests lovely and only if ur comfortable; haechan x pregnant reader soft smut where he was super nervous at first to be a dad so young and even have sex while she’s pregnant, but now he’s more assured and confident and is just so in love with the idea of a family even with their age and idol life 🥺

The memory of him standing in the cold, his scarf whipping around, his calm expression hiding the fire that was burning in his chest, all belonged to the past now. When Haechan first found out you were pregnant with his child, he was young and terrified. He didn't say the words out loud, but they were all around you, little windswept whispers about what would happen to his idol life, to him, to the both of you.

You were terrified too. You were young too. But you accepted it earlier than him, holding your hand to your tummy and wondering if your unborn child would have Haechan's kind, mischievous looks, or if they could feel how much you loved them already. Gradually, Haechan came around to the notion of being a father, something he desperately wanted to be the best at. His hand found its way to your tummy too, his soft palm caressing your skin, and his eyes watering as he thought and thought about the future. He felt happy. He felt like this was how life was always supposed to go.

It took him awhile to touch you, to really touch you deep inside where your body needed him the most. Haechan was scared to hurt you, scared that the baby would feel it and know what he was doing to their mother. You told him that he could go slow if he wanted, that he could fill you up with more than his love and attention.

When it finally clicked for Haechan, that he wasn't going to cause you any pain, he was watching you fold baby clothes. For him, a life with you was free of pain. If it was with you and his baby, everything would be alright. He had come from practice and he was sweaty and tired, but seeing you get ready for the baby put everything into perspective. The sight of you glowing and humming a soft tune to yourself was something he wanted to always come home to. No matter how busy his life got, with you was where time would slow, where he could be himself most.

"I love you. You know that, don't you? I love you, love you, love you." Haechan said, pulling you against his body and holding your round bump. "You look so beautiful today."

There was so much he could say, but he would rather show you. He brought you to your bedroom, guiding you carefully down onto the bed. You had been so horny lately, craving his touch in your late pregnancy, that you could hardly rid yourself of the temptation of feeling him, even though it was harder to move around at your size. There was also the matter of not feeling sexy enough, even though Haechan always made you feel like the sexiest person in any room.

"Baby," he whispered." Let me."

He did everything. He removed your pants and underwear. He massaged your feet and calves, smiling with pleasure to himself when he saw how much you were enjoying it. He treated your body like nothing was different, kissing you in places that made you blush. It was just like the sex from when you first started dating, only now the image of your future together was in his mind. He felt the fire in his chest turning to ash, felt the flowers blooming in its wake.

"Do you really think I look beautiful?" you asked, shifting yourself awkwardly. "I feel huge, like there is a mountain between us."

Haechan held your hands, his face between your thighs. With each word, he kissed one of your fingers and both of your thumbs. "You. are. carrying. our. baby., and. you're. perfect. to. me."

Haechan slipped inside of you, going slow, pulling back a little and then pushing in gently. His fingers were on your thighs and not your tummy, just in case you were self-conscious. He looked down at your body, at the way you moved underneath him, and he felt very lucky. He had to kiss you, just simply had to. He leaned down to touch his lips to yours, his body so lightly pressed against yours and his cock thrusting in and out. He kissed your lips and neck, breathing into your ear that he loved you so very much.

#haechan #lee haechan #haechan smut #haechan drabbles #nct haechan #nct smut #nct drabbles #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct haechan smut #nct smut drabbles

190 notes · View notes

aficwhore · 3 years

Text

Truth Is

Chapter 1: A Night Many Months Ago

Frankie "Catfish" Morales x F!reader

Summary: When reuniting for the mission in Colombia, Frankie and the reader (nicknamed "Chipmunk"), bicker due to their rocky past. After some angry exchanges, a few truths come out, changing both of their perspectives. Will the relationship be mended? Or once this is over, will they go back to the way things were before?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity, talk of sex and sexual encounters, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death, and talk of mental health(PTSD, depression).

A/N: This was inspired by the song "Truth Is" by Sabrina Claudio. I want to make this a series (my first series ever), but it's still being decided, so please let me know if you want this to be continued! And I am still taking requests and prompts! Thanks Lovelies <3

"Cmon, please Chip, we can't do this without you." Santiago begged, his hands clasped together in front of him to show his desperation as he stood before me in my small apartment kitchen. I sighed, glancing around our surroundings. He had come to ask about joining one last escapade, one last job and we'd all be set for the rest of our lives.

Finally breaking the silence and meeting his weary gaze, "Who all have you rounded up? If Will or Benny said no, there's no way I'm doing it without them." I took another deep breath, turning to continue the dishes I had been doing when Pope showed up.

Santi's face began to light up, his stance growing slightly as he grinned, "Great! They both wanted in, so did Tom." Seeming relieved he leaned against the counter next to the sink and crossed his arms.

"And F-Fish?" I hesitated, pausing the scrubbing on the porcelain dish in my hand. It felt like the air in my lungs no longer existed. My heart began to pound it's way up my throat and into my ears.

His head dipped down, feeling the concern laced in my voice. Clearing his voice, he quietly explained "Haven't asked him yet, he was last on my list."

I silently placed the last dish onto the rack near the sink and wiped my wet hands on my jeans, looking down and watching the wet marks gradually making themselves known. No longer forcing myself to make eye contact, I nodded at the ground.

"Look, querida, if you two just talked I'm sure it would work out." He pushed himself off the counter and stepped towards me, reaching a hand out and gently rubbing my shoulder to console me. "But don't let this change your mind, we really do need you."

"When are you going to mention it to him?" I breathed out, wanting to keep any and all emotions at bay. His hand on my arm squeezed, as if he was trying to give me some courage.

"Tonight, at Benny's fight, I thought his spirits would be up enough to persuade him." He chuckled lightly, knowing his plan was to take a little bit of advantage of Frankie's mood.

I laughed softly, "Definitely sounds like a Santi move if you ask me."

He smirked and shook his head "I know, shame on me." As he dropped his hand back to his side he quirked, "You should come tonight, we can go out for drinks after the fight, relax a little before we leave tomorrow."

It took me a second to register what he said, but when I did I burst out "wait what?! Tomorrow? Santi, why didn't you tell me that? You forgot the biggest detail!"

He cowered down slightly, rubbing the back of his neck "Because I knew you'd yell at me, it was worth a shot putting off the anger a little longer." He smiled coyly.

Rolling my eyes I couldn't help but forgive his dumb smile. "Well it starts soon, why don't I get my things real quick and we can head to the arena together?"

His smile widened, "Of course!" I grabbed my purse and keys, making sure to turn off the lights and lock the door behind me. As we made our way down the elevator and out to his car, Santi told me a few details about the missions and the plan. But once we got into his rinky dink ford truck, I turned to him.

"About Frankie, I'm sure one of the boys told you, but just in case; his license was revoked." Santi's face contorted with confusion.

"What? How? Did he crash or hurt somebody?" He questioned quickly.

After taking a breath of courage I spoke, "No Pope. He-He was caught with coke."

Santi stayed quiet, turning the engine on. "I don't get it" A sad expression plastered on his face.

With a furrow in my brow I spoke again, "What don't you get? He was doing drugs, hardcore ones at that". I began to ramble more, "For what reason, I'm not sure, maybe the PTSD and depression. Maybe he felt he had no one to go to-"

"Stop. I know." He cut me off while finally shifting the gear into drive and moving up forward. "You can't blame anyone for this. All we can do is move on and help him. He's our friend, okay? But I know he's still the same Fish, just a little turned around."

"I know, okay. I can't help it. From what the boys told me, he seems to be a lot better." I added, stirring in my seat. "Anyways, it's been awhile since all of us have been back together. It's exciting."

Santi snickered, "But didn't you all hang out while I've been out of the U.S.?"

Seeing that we're close to the arena's parking garage I explained, "I mean, yea, but only me, Ironhead, Benny and Fish. I haven't talked to Redfly in months, we all had a fallout with him. Especially me."

"Tom didn't say anything when I talked to him, Do you wanna fill me in?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Huffing, I turn to face him, telling him the events of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The four of us, the Millers, Frankie and I sat on my couch, watching TV and talking, when we hear a bang at the door. I got up to open it and find Tom slumped on the doorway. He looked rough and smelled like he had been drinking the past several days. "Woah, Tom, you're really drunk, and you drove here?"

He snapped, beginning to yell, "Who are you to judge me? Huh? My wife left me, this is how I cope." He angrily pushed his way past me and tumbled into the living room. He was greeted with the boys standing around him with concerned faces.

"What the hell were you thinking? You know how dangerous that is? You know you could've called and we would've been there for you!" I raised my voice back, causing Tom to swing around to face me.

He laughed darkly, "Oh shut up 'Miss Perfect,' just like you did for Fish? When he was nose deep in coke? Or are you too self obsessed? Or do you just have favorites!"

"Hey man, that's not cool." Will interrupted and tried to get a handle on Tom. Frankie lowered his head in embarrassment. Will reached forward and placed a hand on his back, but things escalated more.

"Oh okay, yea protect the whore, we all know she's there for you guys more than just talking. I wouldn't doubt it if you all fucked her too. But me? Nah, you leave me out of everything." Tom howled, yanking away from Will and slurring his words and no longer making sense.

Anger becoming more prominent, I spoke, "Seriously?! Whore?! How is it my fault that you push us away and don't let us help? We include you in everything, but you have your head so far stuck up your ass you never show up!" I've come face to face with him, my hot breath and voice blowing into his face above me. "And another thing, I'm not a whore, you asshole, I'm with Frankie!"

He leaned closer to me, his breath reeking of alcohol, "Just him? Does he know where you're at everyday Monday and Wednesday at 1?! I doubt it!"

Frankie speaks up, "What? What is he talking about?" A devilish smirk makes its way to Tom's face.

"Nothing, I swear it's nothing." I try to explain, making eye contact with my partially hurt lover.

"Tell him, tell him you've been seeing a 'Dr. Philips.' Go on, do it." He rubs it in.

Looking behind Tom, I saw Frankie looking like his world had just shattered. "You've been seeing someone?!"

Panicking, I speak, "Yes, but it's not what you think, I promise!"

"Then what is it?" Tom adds, stumbling back a foot and crossing his arms contently at the damage he just caused.

Benny spoke up, knowing the truth about who I was "seeing." "You need to leave man, you have no right to say shit like that. You don't know the real situation"

Tom burst, yelling "I want her to admit it! I want her to admit that she isn't the perfect bitch she makes herself out to be!"

"Fuck you! Get the hell out of my house!" I scream, tears slightly welling in my eyes. "Frankie-" I turn to him, but to find him grabbing his things. "Baby please, let me explain."

"Explain what? You've been cheating on me?" his voice is loud, and cracks slightly.

A tear breaks its way down my cheek, "I haven't, Frankie, please believe me." I grab his hand, trying to stall his movements, but he pulls away.

"You just admitted it!" He frowns and yanks his hand away and heads for the door.

"That's right Fishie boy! Leave her, she's no good anyway!" Tom squawks as Benny grabs a hold of him and shoves him to the door, Will right behind to help.

"You bastard!" I lunged forward and swung my hand, landing right on the side of his face with a loud crack. Frankie spun around, startled at my actions.

The action only fueled Tom's anger because he ripped away from Benny's grip and grabbed me. I didn't back down and started to shove him and swing my arms, hitting him in the face and chest as he fought back.

But just as quickly as the fight started, it ended. Frankie tore me off of Tom, pinning me to his chest and stopping my brutal hits. Will and Benny wrested Tom into submission and dragged him out of the front door as he yelled slurs at me, and dumped him outside with a battered face.

While the brothers were dealing with a drunk Redfly, Frankie scolded and verbally fought with me.

"Just tell me! Who is Dr. Philips!" He questioned, slightly shaking me by the shoulders.

With many emotions running through my head, I couldn't process what was going on. "I-I can't, Frankie, I can't even admit it to myself." Tears streaming down my face I brought my hands up to the sides of his face. "But you have to believe me, por favor (please)."

Francisco looked like he was fighting an emotional battle in his mind. He finally spoke, "Either you tell me, or I leave, I can't do this, not if you keep things from me."

Feeling my heart break, I whispered "Please, mi amor (my love), don't make me. I'm not strong enough." My eyes now running like an open faucet and my hands tightly pressed to his cheeks.

He blinks away tears, reaching his hands up to grab mine and pull them away from his face, "Then I have to go." He drops my hands and turns to leave.

"Por favor no me dejes! (Please don't leave me)" I call after him, watching as he heads out of the door and into the night, leaving me alone. I drop to the floor, tears blurring my vision and all that can be heard are my sobs.

After what feels like hours, Will and Benny return, picking me up off the floor and taking me to my bed. They lay me down, attempting to help my emotional breakdown. They pick up whatever mess that was left after the event of that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~end flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And after that night, Tom was no longer invited anywhere with us. Frankie distanced himself and refused to talk to me. But Will and Benny did their best to be there for me in any way they could. They did the same for Frankie. But as for Tom, they casted him out, because he changed, badly." I finished covering the story of that night, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. "And the Dr. Philips I was seeing, was my therapist. I didn't want anyone to know I wasn't okay mentally. I was embarrassed and part of me didn't want to admit I needed help. The lives we chose aren't easy."

Santi parked, and seemed shocked, "I'm sorry love, I knew you split with Fish, but didn't know any details or about Tom." He reached over and patted my thigh sympathetically. "I really am sorry that you went through all of that because Tom was an asshole. You really don't have to do this-"

"No I want to, I'm in a better place, so is everyone else." I smiled shyly, wanting to lift the spirits. "So what do you say? Let's go wrangle up our boys and get rich?"

Pope smiled brightly, "Hell yes!" We both got out of the car, and headed to the back of the arena and knocked, hoping Will was there to open it like he told Santi he would. Much to our luck, the door swung open to reveal a tall, smiling, blonde Miller brother.

"Brother!" Santi chuckled as he pulled the eldest Miller into a hug, clapping each other on the back. They pulled away as Pope headed inside to find the others.

"Hey pretty girl, long time no see." Will joked, hugging me tightly.

I scoffed, "Will, you were just at my house last night." We both laughed and he led me into a rank smelling locker room, which I assumed was for Benny to get ready. As we rounded the corner, I saw Benny and Tom chatting on one of the benches between the lockers.

"Chipmunk!" Benny roared as he ran over, picked me up and spun me around. "I missed you! I'm so glad you could make it!" He sat me back down and stepped back to sit on the bench again.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss you getting your ass beat for the world!" I giggled as I winked at him, showing the younger of us a bit of love.

He shook his head with a grin. As my eyes left him, they met with the eyes of Tom. He seemed to have a look of regret, trying to give me a sad smile.

I walked over to him, reaching my hand in a fist forward, lightly tapping his shoulder, "Hey fly, how you been?"

A small wave of relief washed over him as he responded "I'm good Chip, how are you? And look I'm really sorry, I wasn't in a good place and I regret-"

"Its okay Tom, really, it is. I'm just glad you're better. It's water under the bridge." I sit next to him and pat his back, showing that all, or at least most, is forgiven.

He nods slowly, "Thank you, it means a lot that you're here."

"Oh cmon you have to admit it, you couldn't do it without me, the best there is." I pretend to act over confident and burst into laughter. And Tom joins in.

As Tom and I begin to catch up, talking about what we've missed these past several months, I overhear a conversation.

"Hermano (brother)! How are you?" Santi greets Frankie, I assume, he was the last of us, who wasn't already here. When I realize that it is him, my heart begins to race. My skin starts to burn and get hot, my palms becoming sweaty.

"Pope! Benny! Ironhead! What is this, a reunion?" Frankie's voice echoes as they come closer. As the three round the corner, "All we need is Redfly and Chip-" Frankie stops as we become revealed to him. Tom gets up immediately and struts over to give Fish a hug. Frankie's face lights up with glee and hugs him back. When they step away from each other, I wearily stand up and all he does is give an awkward smile and nods in my direction.

Benny attempts to whisper to Santi, "Ouch, that's cold." And Santi jabs him in the stomach with his elbow, causing him to double over and make a "hmf" sound.

Being slightly hurt, I break the uneasy tension by opening an invitation, "Alright well I'm gonna go get a beer and find us some good seats, it's close to showtime!" Faking a smile I continue, "Who's coming?"

"Me, I can't be in here with this doofus anymore." Will chuckle as he ruffles Ben's hair and follows right behind me.

When we make it to the concession stand and order beers, Will taps my arm, "How are you feeling?"

With a sigh, "Honestly I expected that, but it hurt more when it actually happened. But what can I say." I grab out drinks from the concession worker and thank her and turn on my heels to find a seat. "I love him, and if that means waiting to mend things, it worth it, even if it means waiting forever."

Will offers a sympathetic grin. "It'll work, just watch. Oh! Over there! Perfect seats!" He points as his attention was caught by an opening near the rink. He pursues it as I follow behind.

While we sit, we joke around, waiting for the rest of the gang to come sit and watch Benny get thrown around. Finally the last three show up and sit with us, Tom sat on Will's right side, me on his other side, Santi on my left, but when Frankie walks up, he bends down and whispers to Santi, causing him to scoot further away from me and leaving room for Frankie to slot himself between us. Which took me by surprise. Once he was seated, he glanced over to me and gave me a genuine smile.

We don't say a word as the lights begin to dim and the announcer's voice breaks through the speaks, introducing our dear Benny and his opponent.

Our small group starts to cheer and scream Benny's name, to show him support. As he enters the rink, he searches for us, and when he finds us, he smiles big.

In the midst of all the commotion, Frankie leans over and whispers to me, "I missed you, cariño (sweetheart)."

My face whips around to meet a very close Fish, who is smiling. "I missed you too." I give a small smile and lean to my side to shoulder bump him, as he places a hand on my knee.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #frankie morales #Pedro pascal #santiago garcia x reader #william miller x reader #benny miller x reader #tom davis x reader #angst #frankie morales angst

127 notes · View notes

existslikepristin · 3 years

Text

Sounds

Just my ultimate bias doing ultimate bias things. This is just the intro. There will be more to come. Thanks also to worldsover and EhBeeSeeDih for most excellent editing help!

Tags: TheLounge, Dreamcatcher, Gahyeon, Siyeon, Yoohyeon, other members all referenced, some unnamed male, lots of butt stuff, very light bondage, brief watersports (pee), various other kinks referenced, I just want everyone to know Gahyeon is the best human

Gahyeon observed the consistency of the lube that dripped, nice and slowly, from the fingertips of her black latex glove. She only wore the one, leaving her other hand bare. Besides the glove, all she wore was an oversized baggy tee shirt and a pair of panties that weren't her own. From behind her, the up-close-yet-distant sound of amateur porn moans reached her ears. It made her smile.

Not long after Gahyeon had revealed her desire to dominate to the rest of Dreamcatcher, she’d first been approached by Dami. Dami initially showed a similar interest in dominating others, but was equally interested in being a pet.

Gahyeon hesitated for some time, but eventually agreed to give it a try. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Dami made a pleasant, calm, obedient pet. Gahyeon never really had many ideas for commands to give to a panda, though, so perhaps her perspective was a bit skewed.

Some time later, the two got involved in a bit of role playing as well. Dami would be the prince, and Gahyeon would be one of a variety of higher-ranking royalty that Dami would then have to satisfy. Gahyeon would certainly never admit that this was one of her favorite roles to play in her escapades with her members. Mostly because it meant she received lots of massages from Dami’s delightfully delicate hands.

Dami was a grunter.

Gahyeon’s situations with Jiu and Handong were quite similar to each other in the sense that neither of them really expressed a major interest in being dominated.

Jiu was more of a standard, every day, give-and-take type of lover, but just happened to enjoy a bit of pain. Gahyeon was always happy to provide that little extra sadistic touch that would push Jiu over the edge of climax.

Jiu was a lip-biter.

Handong didn’t need a dom. She wanted somebody with a dick she could wreck herself with. Gahyeon had a growing collection of dildos and strap-ons to choose from. It was as simple as that between them.

Handong was a shouter.

Sua was, as expected, the most difficult to work with. She was a switch. But while domming, she was often excessively overpowering, demanding that her subs participate in her kinks, rather than compromising with them or catering to their desires. She had serious negotiation issues. All of which meant that Gahyeon was the go-to option when the other members wanted to be dominated.

Of course, Sua would reach out to Gahyeon to be dominated as well. But she was a bit of a back seat driver. Or a severe brat. Or uncooperative. It depended on the day. Gahyeon would often just suggest they do something less kinky. Of course, she wasn’t about to cut Sua out of her sex life entirely, given their friendship and Sua’s rocking body.

Sua was a screamer.

Yoohyeon, on the other hand, was quite the fun submissive. She was willing to try anything at least once, up to and including the most depraved acts Gahyeon could come up with. Once or twice, Gahyeon had even directed her to do some things sarcastically, but Yoohyeon complied immediately, no questions asked, resulting in both of them discovering some kinks that neither of them realized they had.

One of Gahyeon’s favorite aspects to domming Yoohyeon was her eagerness to be filmed. Gahyeon’s SD card case was an absolute treasure trove of videos. It didn’t matter if she was far from her members, because she could always count on some long-distance submission from Yoohyeon. And it never hurt to have something to watch when she just wanted to be alone and masturbate.

Yoohyeon was a moaner.

But as much fun as Gahyeon could have with those five women, Siyeon stood out from the pack as Gahyeon’s favorite. She had a hard time fully explaining the favoritism, but as far as she was concerned, it was undeniable.

Siyeon presented herself outwardly as confident, bold, even. Gahyeon expected in the beginning that Siyeon would have no interest at all in submitting to her, or anyone else for that matter. She quite literally wore the pants.

One hot summer night, however, Siyeon sheepishly asked Gahyeon to spank her. It seemed innocent enough, as far as sex acts went, but it escalated gradually. Over the course of several months, Siyeon’s outer shell melted away. She became Gahyeon’s clay to mold.

Everybody else let Gahyeon dominate them because she gave them what they wanted.

Siyeon begged Gahyeon to dominate her because she wanted to serve and please.

That wasn’t to say Siyeon wasn’t getting what she wanted out of the action of course. Just that what she wanted happened to be whatever Gahyeon wanted. It was the perfect match.

Siyeon was an instrument that Gahyeon knew exactly how to play.

The sexual activities of the members weren’t obvious to the average viewer, except some of the wild shit Sua would do, but that was easy to pass off as “girl group popularity-mandated gay bait.” Every once in a while though, Gahyeon would get the itch to break Siyeon’s façade down in public. The lightest brush of the fingertips, a sidelong glare, anything could be the trigger if Gahyeon did it with the proper intention.

She’d even gotten so bold once as to do it on live video, streaming to their fans with Jiu and Sua to either side. Siyeon nearly collapsed before Gahyeon let her go. That same night, Sua practically molested Siyeon, but Gahyeon was vindictively proud to see that it didn’t have the same effect.

Gahyeon watched as one last drop of lube fell from her fingers back into the bowl she'd poured it into for easy access. It was just viscous enough to stay on a surface, but wasn’t tacky. Rather, it was slick, as if there were no friction at all between her digits.

“How are you feeling, my wolf?”

“I-I’m excited, Gahyeon.”

Gahyeon preferred hearing her own name falling out of Siyeon’s mouth. The sound gave her a twisted sense of romance, as opposed to the supposedly traditional “Mistress” or “Ma’am.”

Gahyeon turned to look for the first time since getting lost in her thoughts. Siyeon was tied up, albeit only with the shirt and pants she had been wearing earlier in the day, rather than a rope. The knots that her sleeves formed were weak and could fall apart with the slightest force, but Siyeon was much too good of a girl for that. It wasn't her physical bonds that held her still.

There was a twinge of disappointment amidst Gahyeon’s glee at seeing that Siyeon was looking, entranced, back at her. She had, after all, dictated that Siyeon watch the video that was playing on her tablet.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Siyeon gulped nervously, but Gahyeon could see the slightest, quivering smile touch the corners of her lips. “Sorry, Gahyeon. It’s just… I think I’m extra struck by your beauty today.”

Gahyeon smiled and placed her ungloved, unlubed hand on top of Siyeon’s head, stroking her hair softly. “Oh babe. You know flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere. It’s just going to get my fingers deeper inside you. And you'd better watch out, because you're getting close to the knuckles.”

Her gentle hair stroking turned into a rough grip, which she used to turn Siyeon's gaze away, back to the tablet.

"Don't you want to learn from this video, Siyeon? I made it just for you."

"Yes, I do."

"Then you should be watching. Look, or you're going to miss the best part."

Siyeon's eyes slowly refocused themselves onto the video. It was Yoohyeon, all but limp in a full-nelson-under-the-legs hold. Whoever was holding her up, slamming their cock repeatedly up her asshole, they weren't fully visible, but it was easy to guess their identity. Yoohyeon's eyes rolled up so far, they looked like they might do a full three-sixty at any moment. Anyone viewing the video might have been concerned for her well-being if not for her dopey smile.

"See, my wolf? She's such a good little slut. Keep watching and you might learn something."

Gahyeon let go of Siyeon's head, confident she'd follow instructions this time, and reached around to feel how ready she was. As expected from her favorite toy, and the hours of teasing Gahyeon had subjected her to up to this point, she was so wet that Gahyeon could have gone swimming inside her.

Her gloved hand dipped into the lube again, then made its way down the cleft of Siyeon's ass, coating the entirety. If she didn't already have very specific plans, Gahyeon would have considered using it as massage oil and kneading Siyeon’s beautiful butt cheeks until the bright red hand prints on them disappeared.

A series of moans came from the tablet speakers again, and Gahyeon smirked at what she knew was coming next, which was Yoohyeon.

"Eyes open, Siyeon. You really don't want to miss this."

Gahyeon watched Siyeon’s fingers wiggle beneath their impromptu bonds. Yoohyeon's moans shifted into a long, guttural shout, and a stream of pale yellow liquid shot out of her. Siyeon’s butt visibly clenched.

"What a fantastic slut she is, hm? Cumming so hard from her ass being used as a fuck hole that she can't even control herself, pissing all over like an idiot."

Even from behind her, Gahyeon could sense Siyeon’s devious smile forming. "Well that's rude to say about her," Siyeon said, risking life and limb.

Gahyeon responded with a series of powerful smacks, leaving the handprints already on Siyeon’s ass glowing red, as well as a haphazard smattering of lube. "Shut uuup," she whined, "She got fucked stupid and pissed herself. You know what I mean."

Siyeon turned back over her shoulder to show Gahyeon her smile. Fresh tears flowed from her eyes. "Yoohyeon's always a fool though," she managed to joke through the pain.

One last, full-motion spank made Siyeon’s smile briefly turn into a grimace.

"Is that what you're going to do to me too?"

Gahyeon resumed her steady lubrication of Siyeon’s entire backside. "Someday, maybe. But we have a long way to go before you'll be able to experience that level of pleasure without pain. And trust me, the inside of your ass is not the part of your body where you want to be feeling pain. We'll build you up to it."

There was minimal resistance against Gahyeon’s middle finger as it slipped fully into Siyeon’s butt. Siyeon hissed and her toes curled. Gahyeon kissed her neck, shushed into her ear, and used her ungloved hand to stroke from Siyeon’s breasts down to her clit and back.

After a moment of calming down, Siyeon whispered, "If anybody can get me there, Gahyeon, it's you."

Gahyeon struggled to hold back her cutesy giggle, even though she knew that it wouldn't make her seem like less of a dom to Siyeon. "We're going to do, at most, two fingers today. I don't want you masturbating with anything bigger than that on your own, okay? It might feel like you can do more, but we're not taking any chances. Understood?"

Siyeon’s shoulders flexed and toes spread as Gahyeon wiggled her inserted finger. "Y-yes Gahyeon," she stuttered.

"Good. Now, let's practice your safe word, shall we?"

Siyeon hesitated, but relented anyway. “Apricot…”

Gahyeon slowly removed her finger. “Perfect,” she said ever-so-softly, reveling in the goosebumps rising on Siyeon’s arms. “Was that okay? Nothing hurting?”

“It was perfect.” Siyeon used the same word Gahyeon had.

“Well then, let’s get started.”

#dreamcatcher smut #kpop smut #gahyeon #siyeon

117 notes · View notes

bakedcrispers · 4 years

Text

Show Me How To Love You

seasons 6-7

warnings: implied smut, slight angst, big crossbow man hormones 😔✌

[ gif's not mine! ]

Gray smoke danced around the porch of the house as Daryl sat idle on its oak stairs, his eyes snaking aimlessly around the streets as he spiraled deep in his thoughts. He remembers every bit of detail that happened, and he couldn't seem to keep his mind out of it.

It just kept coming back.

His hands travel feverishly along warming glistening flesh, tender skin sliding smoothly among his palms and lips as he took his time in exploring a pulchritudinous figure. His head was fogged and hazed, completely under the spell of the melodic sounds bouncing through the thin walls of the room. He felt full. The buzzing of his chest drummed and pounded throughout his torso the more he bit, leaving purple marks along those lips he adored so damn much.

His mouth dragged and dragged, exhaling through the unforgiving breeze as he tried desperately hard not to shift around his spot. He could feel his body slacking the more he stared, the tiredness gradually getting to him as he sat. God, he was so worn out; yet at the same time, he didn't have the courage to go back in there, lay down, and dream about it again.

He'd go crazy.

Nails scratched his back roughly, piercing up and down at a constant painful pace. He scrutinized every move and bounce, traveling down the deliciously pinned body underneath his figure as he treated you as gently as he could. Hair sprawled, face wet, lips apart and heaving; your euphoria was greatly highlighted under the hues of the moon, and all he could do was gawk at it. Daryl couldn't help but admire it.

"Goddamnit." He could feel his cheeks heating up at the thought, and he couldn't seem to rid it of his brain. It had been preserved exclusively to torment him out his mind later on, and he fucking hates it. "Stupid attractive nurse and her stupid fuckin' smile." Daryl grumbles in vexation, but a part of him knew he didn't exactly mind it - he didn't mind the thought of you being implanted permanently inside his restless brain, residing in his mind rent-free.

Feelings have never been so hard to control.

"Can't sleep?" The tender timbre of your voice abruptly wakes him up from the intrusive images in his head, and almost instantly he sat up straight, his drowsiness disappearing altogether; though, your presence provided not an ounce of aid to his ever-lingering issues.

"I'm a'ight." Daryl grunts his usual reply, avoiding any type of eye-contact towards you. It took everything of his strength not to twist his body to face you fully, nor even look at your face right now. He just couldn't bring himself to talk to you when all he could think of was.. those nights.

And much to his fucking luck, you shuffled your way to him, making yourself comfy on the empty space beside him. "You always say that when you aren't." You snarked, a knowing grin illuminated on your face, staring at him for a little longer than he anticipated as you talked. You already had him read.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Daryl found himself snorting quietly at your little quip, his dark tresses swaying along as he shook his head in disbelief. He wouldn't trade his thoughts even for a goddamn gold bar. He'd rather die than to expose the explicitness of his head out to you, of all people.

"You can keep yer goddamn penny, I ain't thinkin' o' nothin', sunshine." He didn't mean to snap, but the way his head felt a sudden haziness definitely contributed something to his sudden outburst.

Nonetheless, you didn't budge; instead, you pressed on with much vigor, a light expression on your face as you did so. "Are you thinking of a person?" Your eyes soften, and Daryl didn’t know whether to relax his shoulder at the sight of your face or tense them at your question.

You wistfully continued, "Like.. you think of them so much that it just starts to be a real problem?"

Exactly his fucking problem.

"Nah. I ain't' ever think of people like tha'." He answers almost too quickly, the lie slipping down a little too smoothly to his absolute horror. Daryl, however, was completely aware of what he was experiencing — completely present on his stupid issues, and he hated that you somehow wriggled your way to be the main root of all his dilemmas. Even so, Daryl was curious.

"Who're ya thinkin' about?" He diverts the topic towards you, trying not to let his discomfort fly into view, even though it’s probably already so obvious.

You chuckle, eyes crinkling at him. "I didn't say I was thinking about someone, Daryl." You lightheartedly taunted, and he fought back the heat that rushed up to his face, caught up with words as he struggled to gather a reply. You got him tongue-tied: again. Before he could retort his defense, you were quick to cut him off, placing a hand on his thigh with a playful shake of your head.

"I was just kidding, Daryl. I was thinking about someone." The soft grin on your lips encourages Daryl to relax beside you, but his heart continues to hammer in harsh beats, surely causing a tinge of pain throughout his chest.

It sure did.

All he could do was vocalize a grunt, wanting you to continue without explicitly voicing his words out of his throat. He felt embarrassed to ask, feeling like he was being pushy about the topic — intruding, even; but fortunately for him, you follow right after, as casual as you were.

"Been thinking about this amazing guy recently."

Daryl's brows unknowingly furrowed, a swirl of discomfort residing inside his stomach. "A guy?"

"Yeah? What? I can't dream of love?" You joke with a face full of blithe, shining almost as bright as the goddamn stars in his perspective.

He snorts a reply, "Nah, ain't sayin' that." The archer then sheepishly shrugged. "Just - just didn't think you'd get worried 'bout som'n like that, 'is'all." He finishes gently, catching your eye for a second before looking back down on the ground, lips pursed and his fingers laced together.

"Really?" You raised your brow at him in an amused manner, another chuckle bubbling out of you as you playfully jabbed his side with your elbow. "Would've never thought you'd take me as a responsible and sensible type, Dixon."

He could only roll his eyes, but his lips quirked up to a tiny grin, his baby blues shining in mirth as your energy radiated even under the cold of the night. "Never said that either."

"But you hinted at it." You sang with a grin, childishly wiggling your brows at him as you swing your legs back and forth. “Ya’ big softie.“

How could he even resist the urge to fucking smile?

You were just so infectious to Daryl, and everything about you was amazing to him — a huge enigma that he wants to explore all over and over again. He’d never get tired of you; he could never.

Sure, there was a part of Daryl that screamed, cursed, and tore apart whoever this guy was that you were dazed over in the jealous corners of his mind, but he refrained himself from doing any physical reaction; for the sake of his dignity and sanity, especially when he’s in front of you.

"Wanna talk about it?" Daryl broke his silence with a quiet exhale, releasing more of the smoke to color the air around him, without much of a care in the world.

You didn't spare him a glance and continued to stare straight ahead, your lips twisting up to a content smile. The archer rose a brow, trying to figure you out, but nothing in his mind was deemed helpful to scan your thoughts; all of them ending up to be a loud meaningless static, one that he couldn't quite figure out yet.

"Ya' deaf or som'n?" He grumbles, impatient, and nervous. It took Daryl some self-control not to practically bite his nails off his hands while you just beamed at him like some damn gorgeous nymph. He felt vulnerable, and he didn't know how to feel about it. He certainly felt attacked though.

"Not deaf, silly. I’m just surprised you don't know him yet." You finally say, your eyes glowing in mischief as you laughed. "I thought it was pretty obvious. I mean all those nights, those talks, those.." You trailed off, and Daryl almost regretted catching sight of the look that you just gave him, breath stuck in his throat as he watched your tongue swipe across your bottom lip.

Daryl shivered as he could feel your eyes dangle from his lips down to his exposed neck, drinking every change of pigment along his skin, where all your points were made and proudly done. He could tell by the look on your face that you were seething with pride; but at the same time, you were looking at him so lovingly. Daryl didn’t know what to do, sweating and freezing under your deep scrutiny. “Those… wha’?“ He gulps the courage to return your gaze, almost immediately feeling his throat grow even drier with each second he stared at your adoring hues that maintained strong contact with his.

You huff at him, brows furrowed but your lips were quirked up. “Playing dumb, huh?“ You whistled, gently bumping your shoulders against his, electricity coursing through him as your bare skin clashed with his cold ones. “From how frozen you are right now, I’m guessing you don’t really want me to dive deep into it?“

"It’s a mistake, Y/N.“ Daryl finally takes the courage to speak up, face beet red as he looks at anything but your face. “We didn’t know the hell we’re doin’.” He grumbled, his voice drenched with every ounce of regret and shame he could ever carry from that night alone. He just didn’t think it felt right to him. Those nights were only used to pour those unwanted feelings and emotions out, Daryl thought, It didn’t mean shit.

It shouldn’t.

With shoulders slacked, the archer completely isolates himself away from you in an attempt of just shutting down from the conversation altogether. He never even thought of talking about it with you, thinking you’d just pass over him and forget about it over time; that you’d just drown out his existence after you were done using him as some fucking stress outlet.

Not that he had complaints in the first place.

“It wasn’t a mistake, Daryl.“ You murmured sincerely, your eyes maintaining that soft, adoring look that you’ve reserved for him since the beginning. “At least for me it wasn’t.“ You follow with a wholehearted grin that immediately sent his heart beating and hammering against his searing chest. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me.“

“Ya’ don’ know what yer talkin’ ‘bout, sunshine.“ Daryl scoffed, perilous eyes snapping at you with a mix of disbelief and distrust. “Yer delirious.“ He didn’t want to believe it; he refused to. You deserved more than just some filthy, asshole of a feral redneck in your life. You deserved men like Rick;

A part of him wanted to believe you — to tell you what he really felt, but as always:

He doesn’t know how.

Slightly shaking the hair out of his face, he continues in defeat, "Look, ya’ deserve someone better, Y/N.“ His words were filled with nothing but bitterness, but he knew it was true. “I ain’ tha’ someone, an’—“ He pauses, taking a long drag of his cigarette before fixating his eyes down the ground under him. “I ain’ any better.“

Daryl took a long drag of his smoke before standing up, not entirely wanting to be in this conversation anymore. He didn't want to hear you spew out any more words that would just draw him back in; make him believe that he'd ever had that honor to just call you his for the rest of his life. "You should get some rest, Y/N." He spoke softly, hating to have to shut you down so quickly, but it was for the best. Daryl couldn't bring himself to be with you after all he's been through.

"What's stopping you?"

He doesn't deserve you.

Your words were left hanging around an air of tension, the archer completely still on his track as your soft tone struck him like a rain of bricks. He nervously chewed on his lips, fighting the urge to just blurt everything out to you in one go — to tell you everything racing in his damn head.

"Stopping.. what..?" His voice was quiet and unsure, almost as if he was scared to hear what you were about to say next.

More silence came from your part, and Daryl could hear his heart moving wilder and wilder the more you remained unresponsive to his reply. Nothing but your quiet shuffles rustling through the crisp air of the night was to be heard while Daryl tries to distract himself by fiddling with the tips of his gnawed out fingers. He knew he wanted to settle back with you — be close to you even, but his brain was holding him back from even trying to; afraid that he'd end up as nothing more but a piece of meat.

You were better than that, and he knows, but a tiny part of him was doubtful of your future, and he had every right to be. With winter coming along and scarcity of resources following painfully behind, there were many more things to be worried about than his stupid high school feelings.

"What's stopping you from loving me?"

Daryl pursed his lips into a thin line. This was something that you've also asked him the night before, your bare body pressed against his chest while you snuggled under the late sky. He could barely get any word out to give you a proper answer. But even during times like those, Daryl could never tear his eyes off of you. You were drowsy, tired from the night’s activities, but you never seem to get restless of his scattered thoughts and feelings; you always tried your best to understand and communicate with him, but as always, Daryl remained nonchalant — almost as if he couldn't hear you amongst everything.

He was being unfair.

Eyes squeezed shut, knuckles white, jaws clenched — He's gotta drop and let you know.

"I.. I don' know how to love ya', Y/N." He confessed softly; ashamed that he couldn't give you the love that he wanted you to have — love that only people who weren't broken can give. "I.. I don' know how to love ya' like.. like how Glenn or Rick does." He croaks weakly. "They do it so easy, but I just fuckin'.. can't."

His frustration was evident, yet his head was facing the ground, not wanting to have you catch the longing and bitter look that he had on his stormy blue eyes.

"Daryl." His eyes slowly snaps towards the direction of your voice, lips trembling slightly as your cold palms brushed and settled on his reddened cheeks.

"I didn't follow you everywhere with the hopes of finding the same love that men like Rick or Glenn can give in you. I didn't go out of my way to be your run partner just to seduce you and jump on your lap. I'm with you because you make me happy, and you make me feel loved in the warmest way possible."

He watched your lips effortlessly mouth the words out to him as if you were reciting a ballad specially made only for his ears to reach.

"You don't have to show me or the others that you love me, Dixon, because I already know that you do." Your hold on his face tightens, and so did Daryl's heart as he watched you send a loving smile up at him. "You don't have to hide from me, Daryl. You don't have to be scared about not being able to compete with others because no matter what, you're the only damn thing I see."

It may take some time, but your words truly have impacted him more than he anticipated. There were moments where he'd thoroughly savor and indulge himself on your touch and with your words, letting himself loose within the security of your arms; this was one of those times.

"Damn it, sunshine." He curses quietly, breathless over how something as enchanting as you could ever be real — how even did he manage to capture you in his life?

He builds the courage to meet you in the eye, his heart singing at the sight of your eyes holding adoration only for him. "Hitting me with the cheesy shit again, huh."

Your grin widens, prompting his own smile to stretch along with yours. "Want to know how to love, Dixon?"

Even when his surroundings dim, you continue being a light above all things cynical in his life. You were his guide; an angel sent to him by whatever fate exist in the world. You were surreal, and if he could wish for more of you, he would do so in a heartbeat.

"Show me."

You're the only thing he sees.

a/n: OMG?? HI?? ITS BEEN A WHILE?MNDJEJE IM SORRY FOR THE INACTIVITY! schoolwork has been catching up and i have also been sick for the past few days! have this lil oneshot friends 💞💖 all you'll ever see in this blog is longing and yearning so kekeke prepare urself >:D

taglist: @pulplorrd @impala-1979 @twdeadlysins @greginaries @pastanest @thanossexual @taikawho

[ if you want to be added in the taglist, just send an ask baybees 💞! ]

319 notes · View notes

slashbitch2 · 3 years

Text

A Snippet of Life with Agatha Harkness

I have no idea how to use tumblr so I hope this works

--- Salem 1693 ----

Chaos reigned in the forest that night. Even before you had any inkling as to what had transpired between Agatha and the elder half of the Coven you could feel the imbalance in the air. It came in the form of an ominous pressure weighing down on you, a heightened sense of urgency that had you rushing toward shelter.

The forest had never scared you, not until that night. Shadowy figures seemed to move in your peripheral, gradually drawing nearer as you grew closer to your house, to your sanctuary. For once, you were cursing the remote location in the depth of the woods as upon arrival, you'd find yourself completely isolated, yet trapped by the thick rows of trees.

Although, as the heavy wooden door slammed behind you, the tension dissipated ever so slightly. Despite what your intuition was telling you, there was still a sense of safety to be found here. You exhaled, calming your erratic breathing and turning to lock the door.

"You know that flimsy lock wouldn't work, right?" A voice called from the back of your house, hidden in darkness but revealed by the person's tone.

Without turning, you answered. "It would against humans."

This wasn't the first time Agatha had sought refuge in your house. When she was younger, and would argue with her mother, she'd come running to your door begging for a bed for the night. Your own mother, a much kinder woman, would never turn her away. It was how you became such close friends.

She chuckled in response, though there was no real humour behind it. In spite of how tired Agatha sounded, she commanded a certain amount of fear. You could feel the dark power radiating round the room that was accustom to her presence. The other witches were not attuned to her malevolent abilities, but you'd always known.

The energy was almost audible, crackling as it came into contact with your own powers. Most would be threatened by it, but as her closest friend, the magic welcomed you into its obscurity. Tonight, however, there was a certain hostile hesitance to it.

You gulped, refusing to turn around in fear of facing the truth. "Are you staying for the night?"

"No." You heard movement, imagining that Agatha was gradually walking towards you. Your suspicion was confirmed as her breath hit the back of your neck. "I need you to come with me."

A chill travelled throughout your body at the notion. She'd always hated living as part of the Coven and used to share her dreams of running away with you. Now, for some unknown reason this fantasy had become a possibility. You remained quiet, trying to put two and two together.

At your silence, she sighed. There was more movement, and then her hand was outstretched in your line of vision, palm flat presenting a broach. Her mother's broach. Your breath hitched. If the broach was in her possession, than that could only mean one thing.

"They held a trial against me." Her voice barely breached a whisper. "Tried to have me killed." Her other hand rested against your shoulder, causing you to flinch. "I couldn't have done anything else."

You inhaled a shaky breath, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. Years ago when your own mother had died, you blamed yourself, but Agatha had been there for you. She saved you from spiralling further into depression, dragged you out of the bleak captivity and promised to never leave.

You owed her everything, and had promised to do the same if anything ever happened to her. Now was the chance to repay for her loyalty.

Without another word, you turned, wrapping your arms around her form and tugging her closer. She was taken aback by the sudden contact, but soon reciprocated the embrace. She leant into the crook of your neck for a moment, then placed a kiss along your jaw. It served as an unspoken agreement, sealing your pledge of loyalty.

You knew in that moment that Agatha Harkness would probably be the death of you, which was something you were more than willing to accept so long as you could spend eternity in her arms.

--- London 1852 ---

Since the turn of 17th century, you'd been inseparable. On the very same night Agatha had grown fully into her potential powers, you'd run away together. It fulfilled childhood ambitions while simultaneously throwing you into independence earlier than you'd been prepared for, meaning that Agatha was all you had, not that you were complaining.

Had your mother been alive, you liked to believe she would've approved, although, sometimes you missed your home amongst the forest. The house and Coven had been your last true connection to her, severed that night as you left without a proper goodbye. Even now, over a hundred years later, the loss still caused you grief.

Agatha had never related to your attachment to Salem, or to family. From her perspective, you were all she needed. As long as you were by her side, anywhere could be home. Which is how you found yourself living in London, of all places, trapped amidst the seemingly endless industrial revolution. The houses were crammed close together, the streets overcrowded with miserable people.

Out of all the places you'd resided, this was by far your least favourite. Though, you'd never mention your misery to Agatha, who you could tell secretly loved the chaos of the city.

Your house was one among an identical row, so undifferentiated from the others that there had been several occasions when you'd accidentally entered the wrong one. Though thankfully, this evening you did not repeat that particular incident. After a long day of work, which you insisted on doing to maintain some sense of normality, your feet were aching, and your lungs filled with the smog that encompassed the city.

As the door shut behind you, the bustling noise was slightly subdued. You sighed in relief, taking a moment to observe the current layout of your home. While you spent the day working, Agatha would practice spells, and often you'd arrive to find the house either in disarray, or in a state of luxury that didn't match the appearance of the building. Today was the latter.

The living room had been transformed into something you'd expect to find in a manor house, featuring a rich wooden floor and furniture that looked to be the most comfortable you'd ever seen. New exotic decoration was scattered throughout, though you didn't take the time to appreciate it upon noticing the lit fireplace, instead collapsing in the armchair in front of the crackling fire. You basked in its warmth while savouring the comfort the chair provided.

You closed your eyes, appreciating the silence until it was inevitably interrupted. "Evening, dear." Agatha's enthusiastic voice called out as you heard her walking upstairs, most likely leaving the basement. She spent most her time down there, pouring herself into the books she'd accumulated over the years, dedicating effort to gaining more power.

"Evening. " You greeted upon hearing her footsteps grow nearer. "I like what you've done with the place." Opening your eyes, you were met with the unexpected image of Agatha wearing one of her usual dresses, only it was now an intense purple. "Nice dress."

"Oh, this old thing. Just an experiment." She dismissed with a wave. "Now, come with me." She stepped forward to grab your hand, impatiently trying to pull you up.

You groaned, reluctant to move from exhaustion. "Let me sit for a minute." The complaint didn't deter her, and you finally relented as her magic began to surround you, lifting your body as though you were weightless. "This better be worth it." You mumbled, being lead down to the basement.

It in fact was worthwhile. She'd spent the day working on a counter to a binding spell, and required you to be the test subject.

First, she walked you through how it worked, explaining in great detail that you shouldn't immediately oppose the spell, but rather let yourself fall deeper into the trap. And then she, without warning, bound your hands together, assuming you were willing to participate.

Unfortunately, her guidance hadn't been as clear as she intended, leaving you stuck for the following half hour.

"Please, Aggie, can we just give up?" You shifted around, seeking room to stretch your cramped limbs. "I obviously can't do it."

"Well, not with that attitude you can't." She clapped her hands, seemingly reinvigorated by your surrender. Then she began to amble around you in a circle as though observing from every angle.

You rolled your eyes, ensuring that she saw the display of impatience. "Why don't we pick this up tomorrow? Or when I haven't just had a full day at work, at least."

"It's your choice to work." She reminded you. "We have no need for the money." Agatha halted behind you, concluding that a new approach was necessary. She stepped closer, starting to rub soothing circles on your back. "You're overcomplicating it. Just- think about the disadvantage you're at right now. All the things I could do from this position."

You could practically hear the smirk in her voice, so decided to play along. "And why would I want to stop you?"

She laughed loudly, or rather, incredulously at that. "Oh baby, you sure you could handle it?"

Finding yourself at a loss for words, you simply nodded. Agatha usually flirted at any given opportunity, which was initially for her entertainment, simply to make you blush. But as you spent more time together, you became immune to her words. You'd quickly learnt that they carried no real weight.

Except now her tone was insinuating some sincerity behind the claim, which left you speechless.

"Can't even get out these binds." She murmured, her breath hot against your ear, her body pressing against your own.

"That's- unfair." You faltered, distracted by the close proximity.

"Then prove me wrong."

Tearing your mind away from Agatha's annoyingly smug insinuations, you focused on the binds in front of you. Purple magic looped around your wrists, erratically swerving around, but firmly holding your hands in place. Taking her advice, you almost entirely cleared your mind, concentrating only on the feeling of confinement. Slowly, the purple was overtaken by a sea of blue, replaced by your own magic.

"Atta girl." She praised, watching as your magic began to work. In encouragement, her mouth brushed against your neck, trailing up to behind your ear.

The binds suddenly snapped. Your mind overwhelmed by her teasing touch. You were grateful for the freedom nonetheless, sighing in relief as you massaged your wrists. Agatha backed away.

You turned to face her, already missing the contact. She was being unusually quiet, and only smiled awkwardly at the eye contact before busying herself with something else.

So much for being serious.

--- London May 8th 1945 ---

Despite living rather detached from the events of everyday, the World Wars had been rather hard to avoid, especially now, as millions of people flooded the streets to celebrate victory. The party had really begun the night before, requiring a noise cancelling incantation to be placed upon the house. Although it only resulted in a restless night spent lying in bed imagining what was happening outside. You had sworn to yourself that you'd join the celebrations the following day, regardless of whether or not Agatha wanted to join.

Living for such a long time, you'd come to realise that events truly were once in a lifetime, so you certainly weren't going to miss out on this one. Throughout your unnaturally long life, you'd grown wiser in some aspects, while with others you remained equally clueless. Dealing with your emotions, for one.

Almost three centuries of life spent with Agatha, yet you still hadn't confessed how you felt. The feeling had crept up on you slowly, strategically taking root deep within you. At first, you'd reasoned that perhaps it was the endless amount of flirting, or the shared experiences that made you care so deeply for her. But as you were currently walking through the city, passing couples sharing in their jubilation, you admitted that it was entirely her.

You loved everything about Agatha. You loved her at her best, and at her worst. Stuck by her side through prosperity and calamity. From the time she accidently transmuted you both to the middle of a jungle (which was then proceeded by a long hike and a tense week in which neither of you spoke to the other) to moments like these.

Through a gap in the crowd, you'd spotted her a few paces ahead, frantically looking around for you.

Sometimes the most memorable moments with her were when she was oblivious to you, in a world of her own. One of her weaknesses had always been her inability to truly relax with other people, and despite having spent so long together, you were no exception. Though the scarcity of these moments only made them more special, which is one of the reasons you loved to watch her work. There would inevitably come a point when she was so lost in her thoughts that she'd completely unwind, and the rare but real Agatha would take over.

Carefully pushing past the hoards of people, you caught up with her. Admittedly, the 40s were serving her well. Somehow she was able to perfectly blend in, styling her hair to be shorter and donning a deep purple dress, while simultaneously being eye-catching. You were certain that you'd be able to find her in a crowd of any size.

You reached out to tap her shoulder and were almost knocked over by the pace at which she swung round. At first glance she appeared concerned.

"There you are." She exclaimed, smoothing her expression into one of disinterest.

For all Agatha may try to act nonchalant, you'd learnt to recognize when she was uncomfortable. In this instance, it was the slight disdain in her voice that gave it away. "Behind you the entire time." You lied.

She looked sceptical, but dropped the subject in place of grabbing hold of your hand. "I hate crowds." She half whispered, half shouted, shooting an exasperated glare in the direction of a group that had just bumped into her. "Don't wander off again." She scolded, switching her focus back to you.

"Lighten up, Aggie." You tugged her forwards, re-joining the pace of the procession. She followed obediently, keeping her eyes down. "Don't ya know," You mimicked your worst American accent. "wars over doll!" The attempt at cheering her up earned a small smile, but she remained otherwise distracted.

A few more minutes of walking in a rather solemn silence and you relented. "What's on your mind?" Pulling her to a stop, your hand automatically slid to her waist. "If you don't want to be here, we can go home. I don't mind."

She shook her head, opening her mouth to speak, but never got the chance.

Behind you, someone from within a group began yelling out a countdown. You turned to see what the commotion was just as they reached the end, then watched as everyone in the group grabbed a partner and kissed them. The display was followed by cheering, and a round of applause as several other couples followed suit around you.

Perhaps it was the celebratory atmosphere, or the continually increasing intensity of your feelings toward Agatha, but you only had one goal in mind as you turned back to her.

But she must've been thinking the same as she beat you to it.

Her hands found their way to your face, yanking you closer. In the split second before your eyes fluttered closed, you caught sight of the abnormally vulnerable way she was looking at you, and quickly sought to reassure her by reciprocating the embrace. As soon as your lips met, everything faded around you. Agatha was all you could feel. She became everything.

Neither of you wasted any time in deepening the kiss. Soon your lips were parting, her tongue brushing against your own causing a rush of heat to suffuse across your body. Her hand shifted to caress your jaw, the softness of the action contrasting to the insatiable desperation with which she was pressing herself as close as possible.

You reluctantly pull away for a second. "We should-" You're trying to speak between kisses as Agatha refuses to stop. "go home now?"

There's no need to elaborate any further as she, without halting her path down to your neck, teleports you both home in a cloud of purple smoke.

You've never been more pleased with her improved accuracy in transmutation.

--- 1986 ---

Somewhere in the distance an awfully cheesy song was playing, one from one of Agatha's mixtapes no doubt. She loved the recent music style, stating that this would be the peak, though she'd said the same during the 60s and 70s. You had to agree, listening to trashy ballads with her had been the highlight of every decade.

"What are you thinking about?" Agatha's voice was low and husky, almost a whisper. You turned to see how she was staring at you, eyes roaming across your face as though for the first time. You were undoubtedly doing the same, but who could blame you when she only grew more bewitching everyday.

"Nothing." You sighed, sinking further into the pillow behind you. The room was faintly glowing, illuminated by both blue and purple strands of magic floating through the air. It was strangely comforting, like watching lightning crackling from afar. Lazily, you reached up, swirling a strand of blue round your finger.

"Your magic is darker." She commented, admiring the sapphire colour. She was right, while her power had taken on its purple colour earlier, yours had gradually darkened from the conventional light blue to a deep sapphire.

"Probably from spending too much time with you."

She chuckled, drawing your body closer to her chest and resting her head against your shoulder. "You love it." Smirking, she pressed her lips on your collarbone, then lightly bit down on the flesh. She shifted impossibly closer, her mouth tracing a path across your neck.

You revelled in the attention she was indulging you in, the sensations that accompanied her affection. Having Agatha's complete devotion was something you'd never get used to. During your friendship, she'd strived to be as close to you as possible, but being in a relationship with her provoked a whole new level of dedication.

"I love you." Though not the first time you'd told her, the repeated phrase still carried the same weight.

However, perhaps it was even more meaningful on this occasion, because as soon as the words left your mouth, Agatha froze. An anxious minute followed in which neither of you spoke, let alone moved. You didn't dare say anything else, rather lay there in silence, wondering what had warranted the sudden change in atmosphere.

Then she, without lifting her head, murmured against your skin. "Marry me."

Initially you believed your hearing had deceived you, that in reality she had said something else entirely. But judging by the way her whole body tensed, the way her magic pulsed dangerously as if it were guarding her, you knew, or rather could feel that it wasn't a deception. She had just proposed.

As another minute passed, you could almost feel her retreating into herself, insecurities inducing regret. You snapped back into reality, already loathing yourself for delaying the obvious response. "Yes. Of course I will."

Finally, Agatha dared to look up, tearful eyes meeting your own. She smiled shakily, then leant back down into a demanding kiss. "I love you, so much." She practically purred against your lips, before continuing to pepper any available skin with kisses.

Being loved by Agatha Harkness was bliss.

--- The Battle of New York 2012 ---

Another devastatingly loud crash shook your apartment, the gradually increasing volume indicating that the conflict was drawing nearer. Unlike the rest of the building's inhabitants, neither you nor Agatha had fled yet. But with each deafening rumble, or ear-piercing scream, you found yourself a step closer to ignoring her demand and leaving to help.

Upon waking up that morning, you'd sensed something was wrong, or rather, would be wrong very soon. The inkling had nagged strongly enough at the back of your mind to prompt you to wake Agatha up, who was quick to confirm your suspicion. However, neither or you could pinpoint specifics, leaving you to continue as though it were a normal day.

At some point, Agatha, being the ever vigilant wife, had gone behind your back and decided to place a protection spell upon the apartment for any worst case scenario that might've occurred. Although not an inherently bad thing, with the eventual discovery of this, you'd come to a couple rather upsetting revelations.

First, the obvious fact that she hadn't told you her plan, and second, the realisation that she'd somehow learnt to hide her magic from you. Of course her actions had annoyed you, but the battle raging outside kept you too distracted to process anything beyond basic surveillance.

Instead of arguing with Agatha, you'd suggested that you ought to help in any possible way. She'd replied with strong discrepancy, stating that it'd be too dangerous, then later admitting that she was afraid of losing you. Under any other circumstances, the confession would've been sufficient to cool your temper, to resign to hiding with your over-protective wife, but not this time.

You'd grown weary of watching people suffer, of the city being destroyed all around you. The large windows surveying the streets below had portrayed nothing but constant violence for the past hour. You were unable to look away, yet hated to watch helplessly. Only you weren't helpless. Unlike the majority of people, you were able to defend yourself, to fight back. The only thing stopping you was the reluctant promise made to your wife.

Avoiding the battle was becoming unbearable, and with no end in sight, you decided it was time to take action. Jumping up from the chair, you set a determined pace toward the kitchen. Agatha had her back turned, nonchalantly making tea while ignoring the chaos surrounding your home. Her indifference only motivated you.

"Agatha."

"Yup." She replied, casually popping the p.

"I'm going out." You tried to copy her apathetic tone, though there was still anger behind your words.

She tensed at the declaration, her grip on the counter visibly tightening, yet was remarkably quiet. Despite being unable to see her face, you could perfectly picture her grimacing. Nonetheless, her silent seething only encouraged you to continue. "Sitting here and doing nothing is driving me insane. I can't just-"

"No. You're not." She slowly turned round, peering at you both challengingly, and curiously. You hadn't seen her like this for centuries, not since the night before you'd runaway together. She had the same demeanour, was harnessing the same barely contained power. It filled the room like a shadow, engulfing you in a sense of dread. She shook her head, an eerily disbelieving smile stretching across her face. "You're not going anywhere."

The statement was commanding, it should've had you at her feet begging for mercy. But you'd spent so much of your life with her that you could see the lie in her eyes, notice the lack of meaning behind the words. She wasn't going to stop you.

"I'm going to help, Aggie." You took a step forward, a pleading attempt to convince her to let you go, maybe even to join you. Instead, she flinched. "Please..."

She was warily watching you in silence, her stubbornness shining through. The lack of compassion she was demonstrating reignited your resentment, had you nearly shaking with apprehension. There was no way she'd join you, but she definitely wouldn't stop you either.

"Here." With unsteady hands, you fumbled around for different valuables about your person, first throwing a watch onto the table, then a phone, and finally your ring. "Look after these."

Without another glance at Agatha, you strode out of the kitchen, flung open the door and descended onto the chaotic streets of New York.

It soon became apparent that your effort would best be spent helping any citizens, while, with much difficulty, staying out of sight. Under no circumstances did you want to be recognised for your endeavour, honoured for something that was general human decency. Besides, there was plenty gratification to be found in the battle. You couldn't recall ever having the opportunity to unleash your powers like this, out in the open with no holding back. It was therapeutic, though draining.

The eventual end to the conflict was a relief, but walking home seemed to require more energy than the entirety of the fighting had. As the adrenaline faded, you struggled to climb the endless flights of stairs, cursing the out of order elevator. However, the journey did give you a chance to think back over the past few hours, which were mostly a blur. Although one thing remained painfully clear; the argument with Agatha.

Pushing open the apartment door, you decided that your first priority was to apologise to her. You didn't regret your decision, but hadn't intended to upset her either. Then, only after could you relax, treat the few injuries sustained.

Strolling into the entrance, a palpable silence followed. You certainly hadn't expected to be welcomed back with open arms, but the lack of any greeting was concerning. The sound of your footsteps continued to be the only noise, echoing round the apparently empty flat. Your pace quickened as you explored the last few rooms, finding them all to be empty also.

At first glance, everything appeared to be exactly where you'd left it (except Agatha herself). It wasn't until your third walkthrough that you noticed something else was clearly missing. Your ring. The pile of valuables remained where you'd left them on the kitchen counter, save for the small silver band, which was no longer there.

Dropping to your hands and knees, you frantically began to search the floor, checking it hadn't fallen anywhere. Even at the lower vantage point, the ring was still no where to be seen. Upon giving up, you then searched through the apartment in greater detail, basically tearing the place apart. It didn't take long until you noticed that more was missing. Specifically, most of Agatha's things.

She had left you.

--- Westview 2023 ---

The red wall crackled ominously before you, the noise it emitted strangely similar to that of TV static. There was something inherently terrifying about the large structure engulfing the town. You could almost hear it transmitting a warning to stay away, not to venture past the boundary, but you'd come too far to surrender now.

Stretching forth a hand, you were met with little resistance. You'd dedicated the last ten years to improving on your magic ability and finally the progress was paying off. However, a large majority of that time had also been spent trying to track down Agatha, who's disappearance had caused nothing but pain. Out of all your mistakes, that one was the worst, and inconveniently, the hardest to fix. Despite your best efforts, there had been no sign of her for the last decade, though you hoped today would be the end to this separation.

Thousands of spells all cast at once, it would be impossible for Agatha to stay away. You could practically feel her presence nearby.

Propelling yourself forward slightly, you were pulled through the wall by an unknown force. While the boundary seemed to intimidate and reject most people, you were clearly an exception. The strength with which you were immersed into the town sent you spiralling toward the ground.

Grunting upon impact, you allowed a few seconds to remain on the ground and recover, only looking up when you heard a distinct but unforeseen sound. Children's laughter resonated from a distance, perfectly wholesome and entirely unexpected. Even more surprising was the completely ordinary suburban town in front of you.

Undeterred by the unanticipated scenario, you stood and observed the town in closer detail. You were situated towards the edge, on a patch of grass facing the last row of houses along the perimeter road. It was night, but the street was illuminated by what looked to be Halloween decorations. A pumpkin was placed outside every house, yet there was no one in sight. Carefully, you approached the signpost reading Ellis Ave and paused for a moment to think of a plan.

You knew Agatha was lurking somewhere in the town. The question was, how could you find her while being inconspicuous enough to avoid whoever had cast this town entrapment? Clearly they were incredibly powerful, perhaps more so than Agatha.

The eerie silence was broken by an advancing car, which parked in front of the crossroads. The entire situation was bizarre, but the uncanny feeling didn't stop you from walking over to the vehicle. Hopefully whoever was inside could shine a light on what was happening here.

You kept out of the beaming headlights, sticking to the shadows as you hesitantly approached. The person sitting at the drivers seat was obscured by the darkness so you hid from them while moving closer, therefore gaining the high ground in case they were someone worth avoiding. It wasn't until you were adjacent from the window that you halted to peer inside.

She was turned away from you, but that didn't stop you from immediately recognising her. Agatha still hadn't seen you, busy adjusting her witches hat, ironic, and seemingly setting a scene.

You had imagined this reunion many times, but not like this. It felt unreal to see her sat barely a few metres away from you, obliviously going about her business. The last decade without her had been the longest of your life, yet you felt like nothing had changed, like you could hop into the passenger seat and continue as normal.

Droning out your anxiety, you stepped onto the road, moving as silently as possible toward the car. Clearly Agatha was completely at ease as she paid no attention to the figure drawing nearer.

You knocked on the window, not daring to analyse her reaction. "Good evening, can I take your order please?" You joked, having no idea how else to handle the situation. For all you knew, she could still be upset, and would order you to leave her alone. Or she could've forgotten the grudge entirely, and welcome you back.

Instead, she sat there motionless, mouth slightly agape. Her lack of response prompted you to continue. "I came to apologise- well actually I tried to ten years ago but you left before I got the chance." Glancing up at Agatha, you noticed she was frowning now. "But if this is a bad time I guess I can come back later?"

She said nothing, but appeared to be fighting her own internal battle. You fought the urge to say anything else, desperate to hear her voice.

The car door swung open abruptly, causing you to stagger back. By the time you'd regained your balance, Agatha had flung herself at you, her hat falling off in the process. You wrapped your arms around her tightly, reluctant to ever let go. Hugging her felt so familiar, yet each time was as memorable as the last.

You felt tears begin to form in the corner of your eyes and let out a watery laugh. Agatha invoked so many different emotions, you couldn't keep up. Simply being in her presence pacified any worries you'd had, quelled the betrayal you'd felt after she'd left.

"This is a bad time," She muttered. "but it doesn't matter." At her dismissal, you separated, seeing how her expression matched your own. "And I'm the one that should be asking for forgiveness." She smiled sadly, brushing back a strand of your hair.

"How about we both take the blame and move on?" You suggested, eager to move past this stage of your relationship.

"Sounds good to me," She nodded, her hands slipping onto your arms as she backed away. "and I will catch you up on everything that's happening, but right now I need you to hide in the trunk."

"God I've missed you." Sighing contently, you looked over to the car, accepting your imminent fate. "And fortunately I do still trust you."

You went to leave, but were stopped by her grip on your arm. "Hold on." She reached into a pocket, producing a silver band. Your ring.

"You've been carrying that round the entire time?"

"Just in case." She winked, grabbing hold of your hand and slipping the ring back on.

A warmth travelled through you, starting from the tip of you finger and diffusing across your entire body. She held onto your hand, bringing it up to meet her lips while maintaining eye contact. At the gesture, you tugged her into a kiss, the contact saying what you currently were unable to.

You knew there was a lot you'd have to work thought together, but right now, all that mattered was the feeling of her lips against your own.

"Next time you want a break, please tell me instead of vanishing."

She chuckled. "There won't be a next time." Then pulled you into another chaste kiss. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, dear."

#agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader

68 notes · View notes