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#but at this point there's nothing left of me hoping for this will kill me so ive given up i relinquished it
bvidzsoo · 1 day
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Darkness prevails
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᯽ Author: bvidzsoo
᯽ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader
᯽ Warning: suggestive, cursing, violence (lots of it), maiming/marking, extreme possessiveness, manhandling, blood, beheading, death, dubious consent, morally grey subjects (you'll see what I mean, but I promise nothing like that actually happens), let me know if I forgot something cries
᯽ Word count: 25.6k
᯽ Genre: Fantasy, Royal, Dark Romance, Gore
᯽ Summary: King Jeong Yunho, first of his name, was a ruler everybody feared and nobody dared mess with. Anyone who didn't oblige to his laws, suffered the consequences. Perhaps stealing an apple seemed like a misstep that many would've overlooked, but not Jeong Yunho. Go against the laws: get punished, branded, humiliated, forever outcasted by society, and the King himself. Unfortunately, you were way too familiar with the King's tyranny, having been the subject of his torture more than once. But what happens, when once and for all, Prince San, his brother, finally decides to get rid of the cruel monarch? Will you succeed with your mission? Will you kill King Jeong Yunho? Or will he wrap you up even deeper in his sick web of lies and threats.
᯽ A/N: My wrists are about to fall off and my eyes are dry despite the eye drops I'm using, but here it is my lovelies, the first part of the Beyond the Obscure series! Guys...it's dark, I'm sorry, so yeah, take the warnings seriously, I promise I haven't written them very in detail (imo) but they are there. I think this is my darkest work so far (even worse than San's part in my pirate series) and y'all have no idea what I have planned for Seonghwa and Yeosang's part (clawing at the wall because that one will be even worse NAUR). I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading:
∞ Yunho is continuously mentioned as the King in the story or Your Grace
∞ perhaps keeping in mind the interaction between Mingi and the redhead will come in handy for future purposes *wink wonk*
∞ I hope I did a good job with this story, and I'm sorry if it sucks, I really tried to tackle this beast of a piece...and sorry for any mistakes, I always proofread but some just slip past me *sighs*
Enjoy the story and let me know what you thought of it, I'm always so grateful to all the feedback I get!! Taglist is open, so just comment on the post if you're interested in the future parts (check out the series' masterlist too to understand how the series works, thank you!) (divider)
᯽ Taglist: @seonghwaddict @thunderous-wolf @simpforyunsangho @kitten4sannie
─═☆Series M.list☆═─
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            At such an ungodly hour no lady was supposed to be roaming the streets alone, unguarded, exposed to the horrors of the slums. But some ladies had no other choice but to do so if they wanted to survive, to see tomorrow’s sunrise. Not that there was anything to anticipate or love in the Kingdom of the Fallen, ruled by a ruthless and malicious King, who slayed his people left and right whenever he pleased to do so. And perhaps that’s what ebbed me on to keep on walking, made me straighten my back to the point my muscles were straining as I made sure to become one with the shadows as I passed by the long fallen asleep households, headed towards the outskirts of our well-guarded burgh of Aurora. Don’t let it fool you, despite its name, there was nothing beautiful nor welcoming to this place, only terror, fear, and darkness. Our King made sure of that.
I tried to ignore the trembling of my fingers, but it became harder and harder to do so the closer I got to the well-concealed mansion. Large trees loomed over the gravel pathway that led to its enormous marble stairs, not one light was on inside. One would think the mansion was abandoned, but as soon as you stepped foot inside, its well-maintained state gave away the truth. Perspiration had started gathering on my brows, and I realized that underneath my pricey leather glove the skin of my right hand had started itching, begging to be scratched, but I knew doing so would cause my freshly healed wound to open up again. That wound was something I would have to live with forever, maimed, tainted for life. Marked for a wrong doing that cost the life of my little brother. It was hard not to blame or hate yourself when your sickly brother died in his sleep after you failed showing up for three days, begging and screaming to be let out of the dungeons of the wretched Castle, but my pleas fell to deaf ears, unsurprisingly.
King Jeong Yunho didn’t care about his people, and he never would. Famish and crime were at its peak despite the harsh punishments and executions. Despite the King having ears and eyes everywhere, some people managed to get away, escape unscathed, and one of those people just so happened to be Choi San, the crown prince. He fled the night his brother killed King Choi, aware that he would be next to suffer the same faith as their beloved father if he stood in his older brother’s way. Nobody really knew where Prince San went, but upon seeing his most trusted servant and Royal Guard, Sir Jung Wooyoung, around town, it became obvious that Prince San and Sir Jung were still lurking around. And despite what it seemed like, despite King Jeong being awful and vicious, Prince Choi wasn’t like him. He loved his people, he mourned with his people, he laughed with his people, and he lived for his people. Many hated him for disappearing, thinking he had abandoned us and was letting his older brother do however he wished, but many failed to understand that Prince San was powerless if it came down to a war between the brothers. Prince San didn’t have enough men to fight back against King Jeong’s tyranny. And that’s when I was summoned. Barely a day ago, a black envelope with a crown stamp on it had been slipped in my pouch without me noticing. Having opened it, I was rather surprised to find myself being summoned to the abandoned mansion, which belonged to the Royal family, on the outskirts of the burgh.
And when a royalty summoned you, you showed up without asking questions or making them wait too long. The roads were drenched in darkness, mist surrounding the narrow cobblestone streets, and smog escaped my mouth as little puffs left through my lips, heart beating even faster now that I stood in front of the dark mansion. I never fully showed my face in public, but being well past midnight without another soul out on the streets of Aurora, I offered myself the luxury of breathing in the chilly air of the night.  The moon was in waxing crescent, and averting my eyes from it, I stared up at the massive mansion and steeled my nerves, pushing away all the swirling thoughts threatening to turn me back around just to run off in the night, far away from Aurora. But even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. And even if I ran, the King’s men would find me and bring me back. I never had a choice, nor the freedom to indulge in my dreams and wishes. So, I took a deep breath, fixed the sheer scarf around the lower half of my face, and ascended the marble stairs with chills running down my spine due to the biting cold. It felt like it had seeped through my clothes, nagging at my skin, injected straight into my bones. But if I dwelled more on this feeling, I knew it was mostly the fear spreading through my blood system that made me react so strongly. And there was no place for fear tonight.
When I reached my hand out to push the front door of the mansion open, I found it already slightly ajar, beckoning me inside. My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I cautiously ventured inside, closing the heavy door behind myself, needing a second to take in the majesty of the interior of the mansion. The floor and walls alike were covered in white marble, glinting under the moonlight as the large windows had no curtains in the large entrance hall. A sturdy round table sat in the middle of the chamber, a large vase filled to the brim with flowers of all kinds sat on top of the table, in the center of it. There was a sweet scent wafting through the air, and as I ventured further inside, the cold chill present in the entrance hall slowly turned into blush inducing warmth, making me shiver as I finally started feeling my frozen limbs.
I was wandering around mindlessly, having no idea where I was supposed to go as nobody seemed to be waiting for me, my eyes straying to the walls, admiring all the expensive paintings. They were brought from lands far from ours, from a land where life was easier and happier. The Kingdom of Light, much like its name, was ruled by a Queen that loved her nation and thrived to unite the two Kingdoms. However, as long as King Jeong was our monarch, that would never happen. Faint whispers caught my attention as I came towards the end of the hall, a large door separating me from the next room. A huge painting was hung up on the wall to the left of the black door, and my jaw clenched as my eyes fixated on the family portrait, more specifically, on King Jeong Yunho. Despite him looking a lot younger in the photo, the evil glint was still present in his sharp stare, and suddenly the skin of my right hand itched again, prompting me to mindlessly try and scrape at it through the leather glove. But the whispers coming to a sudden halt from inside the room, and the faint yellow glow coming to life through the little gap under the door ripped my attention away from the young King and made me tense up as footsteps neared the door. And then, there was a click and the door was pulled open, an emotionless man, with asymmetrical eyes, stood in front of me, taking me in just as closely as I took him in.
“Sir Jung Wooyoung.” I bowed my head, keeping my eyes on the marble floor until the man made a sound of approval.
“You have arrived,” He said, voice sharp and impassive, “Come inside.”
The door was further pulled open and as Jung Wooyoung stepped aside, I stepped forward, hands clenching into fists as I tried to fight the desperate need to turn around and just run. Far away from here, from the crown prince and his loyal guard, far from Aurora. But the King would always find me, and he’d bring me back, matter not if dead or alive, he’d bring me back.
As the door slammed heavily shut behind me, I fought the need to jump at the loud sound, and instead made eye contact with the crown prince. He sat in a large chair, straight across from me, at a round table. The table was massive and could fit at least twenty men if gathered around it, but now, it was just Prince Choi, Sir Jung, and myself in the room. The blackout curtains were drawn together, its color a blood red, shutting out the gentle moonlight, masking whatever would go down in this room from the celestial. Nobody had to know what would conspire in this room soon.
“Your Highness,” I bowed forward, keeping my eyes on the carpeted floor as a low hum traveled through the otherwise quiet room, “you have called for me.”
“I have, yes.” Prince San’s voice was low, and quiet, his sharp eyes narrowed as I straightened back up. We made eye contact as there was movement behind me, Sir Jung walked past me and came to a stop behind Prince San, placing a hand on the chair’s back, grip tightening instantly, “Do you have any idea why?”
“I do not have the power to assume anything.” I answered, eyes quickly seizing the room I was in. It wasn’t awfully big, like the rest of the mansion, and it was a lot less warm in here. Bookshelves aligned the tall walls behind the prince and his guard, and a comfortable sofa was pushed up against the left wall, drenched in shadows as the candlelight didn’t reach there.
“You may speak freely with me, Miss Hong, I am not my brother.” Prince San said, teeth gritting at the mention of King Jeong, “And I do not wish to be ever like that, which is why I have called you here.”
“Don’t you deem it dangerous, Your Highness, calling me here?” I quirked an eyebrow and walked further inside, approaching the table, “King Jeong knows you are still residing in Aurora, and now you’ve given your location away to a mere civilian.”
“Are you threating the crown prince right now?” Jung Wooyoung’s voice was rough and words biting as he leashed out, vein close to popping on his forehead, eyes ablaze. He looked menacing, especially with the long sword sheathed at his hip, handle hidden by the red wool jacket decorated with golden accents falling over it.
“Wooyoung,” It was strange how soft the prince’s voice became, eyes finding the guard’s, “she’s not the enemy. You don’t have to be so on edge.”
“How do you know?” Sir Jung hissed back, eyes still on me, glaring me down. I gulped, but didn’t look away. I didn’t want them to think I was scared, even if I was.
“Miss Hong,” The prince’s attention was back on me, expression losing its coldness for a second, “May I ask you show us your hand?”
My jaw clenched as I remained silent, heart thumping fast. I wanted to tell him no, that he had no right asking such thing of me, but I couldn’t deny the crown prince’s request. And despite detesting what I had to do, with shaky fingers, I still ripped the leather glove off my hand, breathing hard as I threw the piece of fabric on the table, letting my arms fall limply next to my body. Nobody said anything nor moved for a few seconds, Sir Jung’s gaze hurriedly falling onto my exposed right hand. The room was poorly lit, yet it wasn’t hard to miss the discoloration on the top of my right hand, the skin raw and burgundy despite the long-healed wound. It was just a scar now, yet it remained fresh looking, forever a reminder of who I belonged to.
“You don’t have to trust me,” I found my voice, and perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear myself sounding so cold and harsh, “but you can trust one thing. I, in no universe, serve King Jeong Yunho. And I never will. If the scar isn’t proof enough, send me out to kill him, and I will do it with a smile on my face.”
I didn’t expect any reaction from the two males across from me, and so it surprised me when the two held matching smirks, sharing a quick look before Jung Wooyoung slowly approached me again. My eyes stayed on him, and I flinched as he gingerly grasped my right hand, raising it up. I couldn’t bear looking at the skin, so I looked at Prince San instead.
“I’m sorry for what my brother has done to you.” And his words were sincere, there was pain in Prince San’s eyes, and I knew he was sincere. I don’t know why, but despite Jung Wooyoung’s calloused hands, the way he traced my scar with the tip of his finger gingerly, made me relax a little. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me the second I approached the front door of the mansion.
“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s out of your control, Your Highness.” I muttered, looking at Wooyoung alarmed when he pressed his lips against my scar, the warm and plush skin lingering against mine for a second. Nobody has every touched my scar, let alone kissed it. When Sir Jung looked at me, he held the same guilt and pain in his eyes as Prince San. It was overwhelming, and so I ripped my hand out of Sir Jung’s gentle hold, and scurried to wear my glove again. I didn’t need their pity, what’s done is done.
“How many times has that devil seen you?” It was Sir Jung asking this time as he slowly stalked back towards Prince San, stopping next to his chair this time. I didn’t fail to notice the way the crown prince grabbed onto the back of his royal guard’s thigh, thick fingers digging into Sir Jung’s skin. They seemed used to the contact, both unphased, so I averted my gaze from it.
“Twice.” I answered, lowering the sheer black scarf from the lower half of my face, “I always wear my scarf in public.”
“And do you think he’d recognize you if he were to see you again?” Prince San asked, his hand slowly sneaking up towards Sir Jung’s ass. My eyebrows furrowed before I shook my head.
“No, he never got a good look at my face the second time, and I was branded three years ago.” I answered truthfully, “There’s not a world in which the King remembers the faces of those he torments.”
“You’re underestimating my brother,” Prince San’s lips pulled into a sneer, “he’s a sadistic man, Miss Hong, you’d be horrified to find out just how much he remembers and gets off to.”
I gulped, but remained silent as Sir Jung bit his lower lip when Prince San’s hand traveled even further up. There was movement to my left, but when I looked over to the sofa, I couldn’t see anything, so I focused on the males again.
“Are you willing to kill him?” Jung Wooyoung seemed to have gotten tired of going around and not getting to the point as he spat, eyes watching me closely. I didn’t hesitate with my answer.
“Yes.” I hissed, eyes turning steely as Sir Jung just smirked, leaning forward as he placed his hands on the sturdy table.
“Then I, Jung Wooyoung, Royal Guard of the Crown Prince Choi San, third of his name, task you with killing King Jeong Yunho, and ridding this Kingdom of his cruelty and horrors.” Sir Jung’s voice was laced with passion, eyes burning with an insatiable fire as Prince San rose from his seat, his strong physique making Jung Wooyoung look small for the first time.
“I promise you immunity and a respectable life once you’re done with your task. You won’t be suffering any consequences, and I will fulfill your biggest wish.” I chuckled, but it lacked humor as my eyes bore into the prince’s.
“I doubt you can bring back the dead, Your Highness.” Tense silence fell upon us, both looking like they understood what it meant losing someone dear. And if Prince San was being honest, then this would be my way out of Aurora, out of the Kingdom of the Fallen, “I shall proceed with the task, Your Highness, Sir Jung. Give me at least a month.”
“You can take even a year as long as you do your task.” Prince San said with a chuckle, looking like a stone had been lifted off his chest.
“Don’t fail us, Miss Hong.” Sir Jung didn’t let his guard down as easily as the prince, however, and the subtle look he sent my way was threatening. I understood. Failing meant death. But I wouldn’t let that happen.
“I won’t.” My voice was strong and I bowed, out of respect and a way of letting them know that I would be leaving now, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.
“Take care, and send us a letter if you need anything,” Prince San smiled, just barely, “I will be keeping an eye on you still, just to make sure you’re safe and everything is working out.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” I bowed my head again, and was slightly startled when a girl, who was smaller than myself and frail looking, emerged from the sofa. How did she manage to conceal herself so well? She looked shy as she avoided looking at me, eyes fixated on Sir Jung as she hurried towards him, “I’ll be on my way.”
“Safe travels.” The prince’s voice carried over the faint whispers of Sir Jung as I turned and stalked towards the door, intrigued by the gasp I heard. I gripped the heavy door and as I went to push it open, I dared a glance backwards, finding the girl seated where Prince San had been previously sat, her eyes round as she stared up at a smirking Jung Wooyoung. And Choi San sported the same expression as he walked behind her, hands slowly slipping over her shoulders, towards her chest. I didn’t want to witness something that wasn’t for my eyes, so I hurriedly fled the room and then the mansion altogether, mind a mess as I tried to work out the best plan to approach the King, and kill him. The waxing crescent moon witness to my new turmoil.
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            The streets of the burgh of Aurora in the daytime were a big contrast compared to its nighttime shenanigans. It was lively and filled with people going on and about their day, trying to catch the last paper at the printing house, buying resources or selling their best products at the market. Despite the wind being harsh today, it didn’t deter people from coming out to bargain, with the occasional fight breaking out in the square, rowdy men desperate to showcase who was most domineering. I remained inconspicuous as I stood behind the stand of a herbal stall, the vendor a very lovely old lady that would let me work for her while my brother was still alive. I rarely came to the market anymore, having found different ways for survival. Perhaps I was dumb for testing my luck day after day, but three years ago, I lost the reason I had been living for. And on that same day I was branded, forever belonging to King Jeong Yunho. I wasn’t afraid of death anymore; it was only a matter of time until it would catch up to me. Stealing and getting caught only resulted in a severed hand, I would still have my other one if King Jeong felt generous that day. But in order to observe the King and follow through with the task Prince San had tasked me with, I needed to be in the most populated areas, areas which the King often frequented. And the market and square were those places. The King would parade around every day with his Royal Guards, surveying the place and taking anything he liked without as much as a ‘thank you’. Everything belonged to him, he could take whatever he pleased without any consequence. It was something we had grown familiar with quite soon after he proclaimed himself the new King of the Kingdom of the Fallen. It was no secret that Jeong Yunho killed his own father to become King much faster, to assert a regime that his father, the late King Choi, would have absolutely hated and refuted. But as long as Prince Choi San was alive, there would always be a glimmer of hope for better times. Times that would perhaps come sooner than expected if I was successful with my mission.
I had been arranging the spearmint when an old lady stopped in front of the stand, leaning on a cane, face wrinkly, her sniffing loud as she stared at all the herbs displayed on the wooden table. It was cold today, yet the old lady lacked a coat that would protect her from the harsh wind. My eyebrows furrowed, and after checking that my black shawl was in place and covering the lower half of my face, I stepped forward.
“Good morning,” I greeted the lady with an easy smile, “How may I help you?”
Her eyes slowly travelled up to my face, and I was greeted with an unfortunate sight. Her eyes were clouded with cataracts, yet they fell perfectly on my own eyes, “Dear one, please help me out a little.”
Her voice was raspy and airy, so I nodded and went around the stand to approach her, the cacophony of the market too loud for her to properly hear me.
“What would you like to buy?” I asked once I have stopped next to the lady, her grey eyes focused on the herbs.
“I’m too old for my own good,” The old lady muttered with a sad chuckle, “my joints aren’t in their best shape. Do you have something to soothe the ache? Something strong and efficient.”
I hummed and glanced at the wooden table, knowing very well what would help ease the old lady’s pain a little, “Nettle will be great for your painful joints, ma’am. Would you like some?”
“Yes, please.” She nodded, eyes falling on me again, “Could you give me five leaves? That wouldn’t be more than two shillings, right?”
“No, it wouldn’t.” I reassured her with a smile as I walked back behind the stand and crouched down to grab a smaller brown parchment roll. I stood and grabbed five leaves as the loudness of the market seemed to get even louder at once, until it slowly started turning into a low murmur, becoming a mere hum. I paid it no mind as I carefully packed the nettle leaves the old lady asked for, slipping in three more without anyone noticing, before I wrapped the parchment up, making sure the leaves wouldn’t slip out, “It’ll be one shilling, ma’am.”
Despite speaking softly, my voice sounded almost too loud in the sinister silence falling upon the market, and it took me a little to realize what was happening. The old lady seemed unfocused as she had turned around, stepping back to the point she was almost pressed up fully against the wooden table of the stand. Nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. My hands clenched into fists and my leather gloves crunched at the motion, almost too loud in the deafening silence. The hooves of the horses were loud against the cobblestones and the crowd parted in the middle, scurrying to make way for the King and his Royal Guards. Despite not wanting to see them, I couldn’t help but turn my head and watch like the rest of the market, as the tall black horse rode at the front, a Friesian, carrying the King proudly on his back. Nobody would’ve been able to guess the horrors caused by the soft featured King, whose cheeks were full and tinged red due to the cold air, lips full and a dark red, eyes rather round than sharp. And yet, the emotionless expression on his face and the constant leer present on his features would make anyone reconsider their perception of the King, cowering in fear as his dark eyes would settle on you, lips pulling up in pleased smugness at the blatant fear displayed by his people. Everybody hated him, yet nobody was brave enough to finally stand up to him.
Four guards followed after him, a man with silver blonde hair and a towering height that matched the King’s following close behind with his own horse on the King’s right side, with his left side being claimed by a long-haired redhead, with eyes so haunting that they always stared right into your soul. Those two were the King’s Royal Guards, always by his side, his right hands. The King went nowhere without the two, and the silver blonde haired man was like a hound, always breathing down the King’s neck, possessive and murderous at the slightest hint of threat. One would think his obsessive behavior was concerning, but he took his job too seriously, having vowed his life to the King a long time ago. The woman wasn’t much better, but she at least was sly and coy about it, always surveying everyone and everything, sensing danger before it would happen.
The King and his guards passed by the herbal stall, and the poor old lady jumped and covered her eyes as she hung her head low, making sure she didn’t look at the King for too long. Nobody dared look at him for more than a few seconds, afraid that he’d misunderstand their curious stare and sentence them to a painful death. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But I wasn’t scared of death nor the King, and I allowed my eyes to follow his form as he came to a halt just a few stands down, where a loose-mouthed man sold jewelry. They were one of the finest you could find at the market, pricey too if you weren’t on good terms with him. I watched as the silver blonde haired guard got off his horse the second the King’s stopped, and hurried to stand next to the tall Friesian as King Jeong released the reigns, turning his head left and right slowly. The redhead followed close behind, stopping mere millimeters behind the tall guard, the two sharing a sharp glance as the male extended his hand to help the King down. The other two older guards remained on their horses, eyes surveying the market as their faces remained emotionless. I glared at the back of the King’s head sharply, his blood red gown decorated with golden accents too bright and contrasting against his otherwise black attire. His black riding breeches were tucked inside his tall riding boots, covering and protecting the King’s calves, reaching almost up to his knees, the fabric of the pants no doubt worth more than everything I’ve ever owned altogether. A thick looking black shirt clung to his broad body tightly, top buttons threatening to pop as the King rolled his shoulders a few times backwards, patting the silver blonde haired man on the back a little forcefully. The guard adorned a coat that reached mid-thigh, colors similar to the King’s, however his was rather black than red and it was adorned with red and golden accents showing his rank, and that he belonged to the Jeong Royal Court. The redhead’s coat reached down to her ankles and had intricate designs of red and golden down the back of the fabric, hair tucked under the coat.
The King moved, and I found my eyes fixating on him again, sneering to myself as he walked towards the vendor with the gemstones and jewelry. My body reacted instantly at the sight of his right hand, memory burned into my skin, quite literally, for the rest of my counted days. The King’s left hand was protected from the cold with a glove that looked like it was a soft material, however, his right hand was bare of such protection. Instead, his right hand was adorned by rings, claws, that I still could feel in my worst nightmares pressing into my skin. They were made of steel, and they were sharp, the jewelry on his fore- and middle finger sharp to the point they could cut your flesh. The ornaments clung to his long fingers like they were his second skin, part of him. The ring on his middle finger adorned a huge ruby, an addition to the piece made by King Jeong himself. His ring finger was decorated by a ring that curved to the side, caging his pinky finger in as well, which was decorated by a piece that could be compared to a miniature spear. The King’s right hand was a weapon in its own, easily able to stab and kill you just with his bare fingers. The ornaments were a family heirloom, one that only the King was allowed to wear, yet they haven’t been this sharp until they fell into the claws of Jeong Yunho. Their intricate design made them beautiful, but they carried too much terror with them for one to appreciate their beauty.
My eyes snapped up from his hand upon hearing his voice, a sound I still had nightmares about, “Chwe, did the gems arrive?”
“Your Grace,” The vendor called Chwe Hansol quickly bowed his head deeply, “yes, the gems have arrived this morning.”
��Perfect.” The King’s lips pulled to the side, the smirk making his whole demeanor more predatory. Despite only being able to see the side of his face, I knew he had a hungry glint in his eyes as the vendor grabbed a small wooden chest and opened it for the King. The redhead had started walking around while still remaining close to the King, inspecting the items the neighboring vendors of Mr. Chwe had. Everyone was tense as the King wordlessly grabbed the gemstones and inspected them from close, face becoming devoid of emotion again, eyebrows pulling into a frown slowly. I was sneering before he spoke up, well-aware that nothing would please the King, no matter how high quality it was.
“You call this a gem?” The King scoffed, irritation lacing his voice as he threw the gemstones back inside the little wooden chest harshly. Nobody would’ve handled the pricey gems like that, but when you had all the power and money in the world, one wouldn’t care, Jeong Yunho certainly didn’t. I couldn’t help the dark expression that crossed my face, eyes boring into the side of the King’s face, wondering suddenly that if I were to throw my dagger straight into his neck, how many more seconds I’d have left on this Earth before his loyal dogs would murder me in cold blood. Scarily, almost as if the silver blonde haired man was a mind reader, his head whipped around and his sharp eyes found mine, small eyes narrowing and making them appear even smaller. His impassive expression would’ve been nerve wrecking to one that appreciated their life, but I didn’t care for my safety. I had nothing left for me in this world anymore. The redhead was still roaming around, commenting at times about the quality of products, and she took a scarf without dropping any shillings to the poor vendor, her face twisting for a second before she fixed it and thanked the redhead for appreciating her merch.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Chwe found his voice, yet it sounded terrified, “These are from the Kingdom of Light, finest of its kind and most sought after—”
“Are you saying that I am stupid and can’t recognize real gemstones?” The King spat, leaning over the stand, his glaring eyes boring into the vendor’s. The man started to shake, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from interfering. If I got killed right now, I would fail the crown prince, and I couldn’t do that.
“No—no, Your Grace!” The vendor exclaimed, shaking his head furiously, “Your Grace knows better than I will ever know! I was merely say—saying what has been relayed to myself as well, Your Grace. I am ashamed of ever suggesting such thing, and I will never show my face around—”
“Now, now,” The King snickered, lips pulled into an amused, yet irritated, smirk, “don’t be a yapping little boy, are you going to cry?”
My jaw clenched and I found myself gripping onto my skirt tightly, breaths coming out shallow as the silver blonde haired man was still staring into my soul, watching my every move. His lips were pulled into a sneer, and I didn’t fail to notice his hand tightening around the handle of his sword.
“N—no, Your Grace.” Mr. Chwe lowered his eyes and shook his head, lips pulled into a thin line as his whole being shook, “Unless it’s what Your Grace wants me to do—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” The King threw his head back and laughed, yet it lacked amusement and was laced with sheer craze, the sound sending shivers down my spine, “You’d cry for your King?”
Mr. Chwe’s head was shaking as he nodded, still staring at the ground. The King suddenly hissed and I almost took off towards the two as his right hand sprung forward, gripping the vendor’s jaw so hard his claws practically tore into his skin. The man’s face contorted in pain, yet he made no sound except the quiet gasp he accidentally let out, “Then cry for me, you pathetic fool.”
The King leered in the vendor’s face, tone laced with venom, eyes wide as Mr. Chwe watched the King stunned. I bit my lower lip as my eyes switched between the King and his royal guard, whose stare would have long killed me if that were possible. I knew what my eyes conveyed, they were laced with pure hatred and disdain, boring into the King’s profile as my hands shook in anger, threatening to bubble over any time. I was playing a dangerous game; I knew the shawl did little to nothing to conceal my raw emotions pulsating through my eyes.
“Bastards like yourself shouldn’t handle gemstones.” The King hissed just as the silver blonde haired man took off, jaw clenched and eyes set on me, ablaze. I have run out of luck, so it seems. But before he could even come close to the stall I was at, the King’s venomous tone turned to a light and almost airy tone.
“Song Mingi.” It wasn’t a question, nor a chastising, yet the guard froze instantly. His eyes never left my face as the King lazily tuned his head, dark eyes falling on his tall guard. The redhead was by the King’s side instantly, probably thinking that her fellow guardian sensed danger, ready to protect her King. The market seemed frozen in time as nobody spoke or moved, wide eyes now switching between the royal guard, Song Mingi, and myself. For a second, my heart skipped a beat thinking that I have been discovered, recognized, my right hand burning under the leather glove. But as the King’s eyes slowly trailed from his guard onto me, there was no sign of recognition on his face. I gulped, not due to nervousness, but because my throat suddenly felt dry, lungs tightening as the King’s dark eyes burned my skin, tearing me apart. The memory was too vivid in my mind despite it happening three years ago, and I realized that even if I tried my best, I wouldn’t be able to mask my hatred towards Jeong Yunho. But perhaps he was so used to that reaction that he didn’t care anymore as a sinister smile suddenly tugged at his red lips, hastily releasing Mr. Chwe, who fell back with a loud gasp. The King slowly stalked towards his loyal guard, yet his eyes never once left my face, amused smirk tugging at his lips. He was amused at the blatant hatred in my eyes, and I had to steel myself to stop the shaking of my hands at the sudden flare of anger I felt coursing through my veins.
“Stand down.” The King hissed in the guard’s ear as he walked past him, sharp claws grazing against the other tall man’s neck, but he didn’t flinch nor react at the contact. My eyes remained on the King as he neared the stand I stood at, the poor old lady gasping and stepping away with a low bow, probably bad for her already hurting and crooked back. I dared say nothing as Jeong Yunho stopped right across me, the table suddenly not enough to put the much-needed space between us. It felt like he had invaded my personal space, dark eyes boring into mine, narrowing into a blazing glare when I didn’t back down. Everyone cowered before the King, and just last minute, to try to make myself seem less suspicious, I finally lowered my eyes at the various herbs on the table, but I refused to bow. The King chuckled, but it sounded more vexed than amused. I didn’t care.
“Mingi,” He called out, voice low and dark, “grab those gemstones for me, will you?”
I didn’t glance up as I heard Mr. Chwe whimper and mutter apologies, a sharp cry leaving his lips. I could only hope the wound the King’s royal guard left wouldn’t be fatal. The King’s gloved hand suddenly entered my vision as he started touching the herbs displayed on the table, humming lowly in the back of the throat. I followed his hand with my eyes, jaw clenching when he scoffed, probably not satisfied by the scarce display of herbs. Of course, it couldn’t be compared to what he was aided with at the Castle, yet that was a thought Jeong Yunho wouldn’t be able to wrap his mind around.
“You’re running low on spearmint, little dove.” His velvety voice was mocking, and I felt his sharp gaze on my face as I gulped down the retort I had in mind, and slowly looked up.
“I will stock up on them today, Your Grace.” I couldn’t help but allow my tone to turn venomous when saying his title, “Had I known you were visiting our humble market, I would’ve brought out a wider range of herbs.”
The King chuckled, incredulity crossing his features at the blatant mockery and sarcasm dripping with every word I said, “Can you afford a wider range of herbs?”
“Yes, if those who are taking pay me for my services.” It was dangerous saying such things to the King and so openly, and I couldn’t help but glance at his royal guard as his jaw was clenched, the redhead next to him also throwing daggers my way. But surprisingly, the King just laughed, however, it didn’t sound genuine at all.
“Tell me, little dove, if I really hate a person, would this herb help with getting rid of them?” He cocked an eyebrow as he traced his gloved fingers delicately against a green leaf, slightly bigger than most. It was tucked almost underneath another plant, and I had missed that we had it displayed. It shouldn’t even be there; the plant was dangerous and poisonous even at the softest touch.
“Using a Dieffenbachia would lead to a painful and slow death, Your Grace.” I answered as the King grabbed the leaves with his gloved hand, a crazed grin decorating his lips.
“Nothing more entertaining than a slow and painful death, little dove.” The King whispered, dark eyes boring into mine as a harsh gust of wind blew through the market, pushing the shawl off my head, exposing my dark curls. Thankfully it was tied around my nape and it didn’t fall off my face as well, yet I didn’t miss the way the King’s eyes quickly racked over my newly exposed features.
“If you want them to choke to death, you can let them drink the tea ground from its leaves.” I found myself saying, my tone challenging, wondering where this conversation was leading to. The King bit his lower as he looked down at the leaves, chuckling to himself before placing them back down and holding only one still as he raised his hand up, directing it towards my face. I didn’t flinch away, I didn’t even blink as my eyes bore into Jeong Yunho’s, an intrigued glint in his.
“Would you eat it if your King asked you to?” His tone dropped to a low baritone as he tilted his head to the left, features becoming cold. My jaw clenched, and I fought my instincts of turning around and running away as a chuckle left my lips.
“I would like to know how I have wronged you, Your Grace, that you seem to hate me so much you want my dismay.” I raised an eyebrow, the King’s lips slowly pulling into an amused smirk, eyes widening as he tapped the leaf against the tip of my nose, making my palms ball up into fists at my sides. My heartrate had picked up, but I forced myself to remain calm. He could force it down my throat, of course, and then the whole mission would fail because of me.
“Killing people doesn’t always need to have a reason,” Everything in my screamed to break his face in half, but I just bit my lower lip underneath my shawl and tried to regulate my breaths, “I’ll spare you today, little dove. You could be a green witch instead of wasting your life away here, behind a stand, selling herbs to useless people that have no idea how to use them.”
The King placed the Dieffenbachia leaf back to where it initially was and leaned just slightly forward, his eyes searching mine. I huffed, smiling underneath my shawl sarcastically, tilting my head as I raised my eyebrows at him, “So that you’ll have a reason to kill me because I’m a green witch?”
Not that the King needed an actual reason to kill someone.
“No, I wouldn’t kill you if you were my little green witch, little dove.” His voice darkened just as his face did, eyes turning cold and lips turning into a hungry leer as his eyes took in my face, traveling lower, all over my body. I hated the possessiveness he displayed, even more so because I was his, he just didn’t know it. The scar burned on my hand, and it felt so hot that I almost subconsciously yanked my leather glove off my hand. But if I did that, he’d know, and I’d rather die than let the King know.
Just as I opened my mouth to refute such scenario, his royal guard stepped in, looking completely fed up with the exchange between the two of us as his expression was dark, very clearly fuming while the redhead stood a little behind, smirking at the silver blonde man. We made eye contact for a second, and she subtly nodded her head towards me, prompting me to avert my eyes and look at the King again.
“My King, we should get moving.” Song Mingi’s voice was gruff, low, and raspy as his sharp eyes pierced my skull, “We have what we came for.”
“No need to rush, my Mingi,” The King chuckled, grinning at his guard, “I think we should look around today, make sure everything is as it should be. That everyone respects their duties, and King.”
I smirked as the King threw me a glare, for some obscure reason letting me off the hook despite disrespecting him so clearly and constantly.
“Keep your eyes wide open, little dove,” He sneered, jaw clenching, “you might just fall prey to a big, bad, terrifying hunter.”
I bowed my head deeply in plain mockery as the King hissed, turning around and stalking towards his Friesian. To my surprise, and everyone else’s, the redhead walked up to me and tossed a pouch filled with shillings at my chest, smirking in amusement before she was headed for her own horse. Song Mingi seemed displeased and mad, his shoulder knocked against the redhead’s when they crossed paths, and as he mounted his horse, he threw me such a murderous look that it easily rivalled the King’s. And before anyone could even digest the fact that I just got paid by the King despite him not buying anything from me, the King and his royal guards took off, horses neighing and hoofs loud as they galloped away.
            Despite the sun settling high up in the sky blazing down on Aurora, the mist settled upon the market never quite went away, the mood of people rather gloomy to after the King’s visit. It had been only a few hours since he had waltzed in with his royal guards, yet it felt like mere minutes. The King’s presence was everlasting and blood-curdling, you couldn’t escape it even if he wasn’t there anymore. It shouldn’t have been surprising, upon one glance, he could make anyone cower in fear, even the bravest and strongest soldier. I had gone about my day, selling and conversing amicably with other vendors while making sure I paid attention to the smallest shift in the atmosphere, so, I wasn’t too surprised to hear a spine-chilling scream cut off the conversation I was having with Mr. Chwe. After the King had left, I rushed to his side and patched him up, the cut on his cheek the only damage done to him, thankfully, and it wasn’t too deep either. Song Mingi had been lenient this time, it was rare. But I suppose the King needs its gemstone supplier alive if he plans on importing more treasures at a low, and illegal, price. What the King wanted, he got, no matter whether it was just or wrong.
Everyone froze as more shouting came from the square, and as the horns were blown, my muscles tensed and my stomach dropped. An execution would take place. The air was charged with suspense as everyone seemed to be at a standstill for a second before they started rushing towards the square, vendors leaving their stands unattended, civilians pushing each other aside to reach the square faster. I wasn’t in a rush, but when the King’s royal guards started shouting at everyone to move to the square while shoving people forward, I knew I had no choice but to actually attend the execution. Not that I had a choice, everyone had to attend these shenanigans of the King. My heart started racing as a man stood on the raised platform in the middle of the square, held by none other than Song Mingi and another guard, who was gruff and angry looking. I gulped as I made sure my shawl covered my face and hair, adjusting my leather gloves as suddenly they felt like they were slipping off my hands. My scar was itching, I knew it was just my brain making me believe that the wound was fresh again, but I couldn’t force myself to stop when my eyes fell on the King, the malicious smirk on his lips morbid. He stood at the side of the platform, looking like he had never been more entertained in his life before as the man his guards held on to was wriggling around frantically, whatever he was shouting didn’t make sense anymore.
I gulped hard as the King’s eyes surveyed the crowd, but when they moved past me, I felt myself relaxing just slightly. The crowd that had gathered around was murmuring lowly, everyone wondering the reason for this execution as there were some people pushing around others in order to get to the front. I did not understand the morbid need of humans to see such gruesome scenes that were to follow in a few minutes, but I couldn’t fight against the wave as I was shoved to the front. My jaw clenched and my hands turned into fists as a man was mumbling to himself behind me, urging the King on to kill the poor civilian.
“Residents of Aurora!” The King’s deep voice boomed over the masses, crazed eyes setting on the crowd. His cheeks were tainted red still, lips redder than they were in the morning, and his black hair seemed dishevelled, “We have gathered here to teach you a lesson, again.”
The crowd froze as the King leered at everyone, stepping up onto the platform, making the civilian scream that he wasn’t guilty, that he didn’t do anything wrong. The King walked past him, but turned sharply and threw such a hard blow against the man’s jaw that I heard something crack. The crowd gasped loudly and I exhaled sharply, trying to calm the rage that was slowly bubbling up in my bloodstream. I couldn’t act out right now, it would bring my dismay, the mission would be over before I could have even started it.
“This man here,” Jeong Yunho’s gloved hands slipped through the strands of the man’s matted hair, and he yanked the man’s head back harshly as he faced the crowd, the King’s neck and ears red from rage, “tried to take something that doesn’t belong to him.”
“Your Grace, I—”
“Silence!” Song Mingi hissed and threw a blow to the man’s gut. He would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the two guards holding him up. The redhead had sat on the raised platform, shoulders hunched forward as her eyes watched the crowd closely, uncomfortably settling on me for a second too long. I ignored her haunting gaze, and instead looked at the King.
“Will you try and lie your way out of this, peasant?” The King hissed as his ablaze eyes snapped towards the man, who had started whimpering and shaking his head, “You tried to take my riches, peasant. The King’s possessions, more specifically.”
“I—I wasn’t, I swear—” Jeong Yunho’s face twisted into something dark and sinister as he leaned down and got all up in the poor man’s face.
“Were you really not?” The King’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with calmness. It was frightening, the whole square went silent as the wind howled between the buildings and abandoned stands. The redhead was swinging her legs back and forth, Song Mingi’s face twisted in disgust as the man he was holding had tears streaming down his face.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” He averted his eyes to the ground, lips shaking. It was foolish of him trying to take the King’s ornaments, but I could understand him. He was probably so hungry that he was desperate enough to do something like this. Unfortunately, it would bring his end…or perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way out of Aurora forever.
“Shame your apology means nothing to me.” The King whispered, releasing the man as he walked forward to the edge of the platform, the redhead’s back straightened and she stopped swinging her legs. The King briefly glanced at her and she got off hastily, standing to the side as Song Mingi directed the smallest of smirks at her, visibly pissing the redhead off. It was slightly frightening how her height almost matched the King’s and Song Mingi’s, barely a few inches shorter than the two men. She was a powerful warrior and a strong soldier of the Royal Guard.
“There’s order in this world,” The King started, voice eerily steady as a slow grin stretched over his features, “There’s laws in this world, and they have to be respected. They will be respected as long as you all are under my watch, bevans. It’s hilarious how dumb you all are to think that you could touch something that belongs to your King, let alone try and steal it. Such behaviour will not be forgiven, and thus it will be punished accordingly.”
The King paused, licking his lips, right hand settling on the handle of the sword he had sheathed around his hips. My body was tense and my heart was beating loudly, almost so loud that I couldn’t hear the King’s words anymore. Goosebumps covered my skin everywhere, and suddenly the shawl around the lower half of my face made it hard to breathe, it felt like panic was overtaking my whole being. I felt like Jeong Yunho could see through me and I’d be the next one executed today. What if he somehow just knew that his brother sent me to assassinate him? What if the redhead and Song Mingi also knew and were only waiting for the right moment to snatch me away and kill me in the most antagonizing and slow way? My breath stuttered in my throat when the King’s eyes suddenly fell on me, as if he remembered who I was after all those years.
“Usually, severing the hand you had stolen with would do the deed,” The King tsked, dark eyes boring into mine as my right hand was burning up, “But this time it won’t be no good. I have been too lenient with my people lately; I fear you are forgetting the rules.”
The crowd muttered in discomfort as everyone hung their heads low, not wanting to be the next targeted by the King. But I couldn’t look away as Jeong Yunho smirked, narrowing his eyes challengingly at me. I would be next if I didn’t succumb to him, so, I gritted my teeth and lowered my head until the cobblestones were the only thing I could see. The King chuckled as I heard his sword being drawn.
“Good,” He leered, tapping his sword against the wooden platform, “Now, watch.”
Almost at an instant, the crowd whipped their heads up as the King walked towards his two guards, nodding once at Song Mingi as the poor man started frantically begging the King to let him off this time, that he’d serve him for the rest of his life, that he could take both hands if he wanted to. Song Mingi and the other guard holding him down suddenly forced him forward, pushing his head down onto the long table, his chin hitting the table loudly.
“No, please!” The man started shouting, trashing around, but the redhead was up on the platform in an instant, pushing his back flush against the table so that he wouldn’t move around so much, “No—no! I swear! I swear I will do anything! Please, please, be merciful Your Grace, I regret what I had done, I really do! Spear me this one time! Your Grace!”
But the King stood by the edge of the table, next to the man’s head, staring down at him with dead eyes, expression soulless. Because he didn’t have a soul, because Jeong Yunho was the Devil himself, not even trying to disguise it anymore.
“You seem to have forgotten that you are my property, bevan, and I do whatever I want to you.” The King hissed, raising his sword up high, held by both hands. My heart was beating out of my chest, and there was a collective gasp as time seemed to slow down. It wasn’t my first time seeing a beheading, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last either, but the ear-piercing shrill scream the man let out before the King’s sword came harshly down on his neck, slashing his skin, was deafening, and it made my ears ring. The sound of skin splitting open, blood gushing out, the crunching of bones, and then the hard thud of something heavy made me so nauseous that I was afraid I would throw up right then and there. My eyes were glued to the headless body that now lay limply on the table, the three guards releasing it as they stepped back. My eyes were frozen on the stray head that fell onto the platform, slowly rolling forward. It brought blood in its wake, oozing out of it, out of the headless body, his once soulful eyes now wide and unblinking, and mouth open in a silent scream. The man’s eyes were now glossed over and empty, mouth making no noise anymore, yet I could still hear his scream. My body was shaking, my mind was numb, and my right hand felt like it was slowly melting off around the scar. There was someone crying in the crowd, loudly, then there were people who were gagging. Nobody was looking at the head, nobody but me. I couldn’t look away, the rage in my bloodstream forced me to keep looking at it, to lament at the feeling, to gather it deep inside myself and channel it into every particle of my body that wanted to kill the King.
I flinched as the head fell off the platform and continued rolling towards the crowd, towards me. And despite how gruesome it looked, I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to anymore. My body and brain weren’t working in sync anymore, my thoughts were a bit hazy as my leg raised and stepped on the left cheek of the man’s head, stopping it from rolling forward anymore. A woman next to me toppled over and threw up, everyone else gasping and rushing away from us. Everyone watched, yet nobody wanted to touch it. What was so different about it now? Weren’t we all partaking in the man’s ruthless death either way? A floorboard creaked and my head snapped up, greeted by the tall form of the King as he closed in on me, eyes burning and face covered in droplets of blood. It dripped off his chin rhythmically, soaking his black shirt underneath his gown covered in the Royal colours. The smell of iron flooded my nostrils at once, almost as if the King reeked of it himself, and a sudden dizziness hit my head. But I didn’t look away, I didn’t move. The square was dead silent as the King crouched down without breaking eye contact, he was breathing through his nose hard, jaw clenched. I kept my eyes on his as I looked down at him, left hand fisting my long skirt, brushing against the metal handle of my dagger hidden underneath my thick belt. It would’ve been so easy to kill him, but the risk of failure was too high.
Suddenly, something was yanked out from underneath my foot and it hit the ground harshly, rattling my ankle, making my eyebrows furrow as the King stood to its full height, looming over me. The smell of iron was strong, but something even stronger clashed with it, the smell of vetiver. The King’s lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth, tongue poking out to wet his lips, his chocolate brown eyes blown wide with a darkness I didn’t understand yet. He looked like a man who was crazy, ready to annihilate anything in its path. I was in his path, and he would get rid of me just for the fun of it. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until the King’s eyes finally left my face, he looked over my head at the shocked crowd, holding the dead man’s head up high.
“This,” His harsh voice boomed over the silent square, “is what happens to those disobeying their King!”
I felt eyes on me, I was aware of everything around myself, but I could only stare at the King’s face as everyone else looked somewhere else. Everything was too fresh in my mind, that day when he maimed me, the day I lost my brother…it was suffocating, it was eating me up. I couldn’t breathe anymore, I needed to get air despite being out in the open square. The harsh wind wasn’t cold anymore, my body had become numb to it. My figure was trembling so hard I could hear and feel my teeth clattering against each other, my lips quivering. Yet no tears clouded my eyes, heart too stale and dry to cry anymore. There was nothing except rage and fright left in my body, and the desperate yearning for freedom. The terror wouldn’t stop as long as Jeong Yunho was alive. And when I looked up at his face again, eyes shaking in blind rage, I was surprised to find the same expression on the King’s face. He was sneering, cheeks red and nose flaring as he glared me down, his hand holding the head shook. He wanted all of us dead, and all of us wanted him dead.
My hand tightened around the handle of the dagger, and if I closed my eyes, I could everything play out in front of me. All I had to do was yank the dagger out from underneath my belt, grab onto the King’s gown and yank him closer to myself, pull him down so that we’d be eye-level so that I’d stare into his eyes full of hatred while I plunge the dagger deep inside his neck, cutting his artery. Blood would gush out, spraying on me, coating me in his royal blood, one that was red instead of blue and tasted of iron, just like of the man’s he’s killed. I wanted to stare him in his dark eyes as the life left his, wanted to hear him gargle on his own warm blood, wanted to hear his gasp for air helplessly as everyone watched him fight for his stupidly mortal life. I wanted him to suffer, to feel like everyone he’s ever hurt or killed. I wanted him to shake in terror as his life slipped away from him without him being able to do anything about it. I wanted him to beg to be speared, to be saved, to be forgiven. I wanted him to crumble at my feet and clutch at my legs, grip loosening the harder he fought to stay alive. What a stupid mortal this King was.
Powerless, defenceless, helpless.
“Scatter around everyone!” Song Mingi’s harsh and raspy voice boomed through the square, sharp eyes frightening everyone away, “Go back to your stands!”
There was a promise in the King’s eyes before he turned and threw the head onto the platform, some men from the pub rushing over to clear the platform. And I was walking away stiffly, hand still clutching my dagger as I tried to ignore the painful itch of my scar. It felt like daggers were thrown towards me, and I didn’t have to look back to see the King, the redhead, and Song Mingi stare at my retreating form. I didn’t have to look back because I knew I had made myself the King’s target, a price on my head if I were to misbehave even in the slightest bit. And I didn’t have to see or hear the King as his lips moved, words hushed as he instructed his trusted royal guard to keep an eye on me, suspicious of my identity and intentions.
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            Once the devil catches you, you can’t escape its clutches ever again. He holds you down, robs you of your soul and sucks the life out of you until you’re nothing but a shell of what you once used to be. He sucks you dry of your life essence; he robs you of the light in your eyes, of the love harboured inside of you, of all of your joy, of the will to continue living. And once he’s done with you, he leaves you alone in this world to rot away, to suffer, to cry, to hate, until your heart is nothing but a rotten fruit. A damned fruit.
Forbidden, tempting, dangerous.
If famish wasn’t such a strong state of mind, so strong that it consumes your thoughts in its entirety, the damned fruit would’ve remained untouched. But when famish mingles with fear and pain, it leaves you desperate enough to go to lengths that you know once caught would make you suffer.
There was nobody but myself to blame as I was veered inside the cold Throne Room, heart pounding and eyes tear filled as people moaned and groaned in pain, a line consisting of five people in front of me. The grip on my right arm was so painful and so tight that it probably had already cut off my blood flow, and I couldn’t fight it off. I was frail and small, a man twice my size and height could easily do whatever to me. And yet, despite knowing that I might not see another sunrise, all I could think about was my sickly brother laying in his bed, struggling to breathe while hungry. I had almost made it outside the market when I heard someone chase after me, shouting as they closed in on me. Somebody saw me take the damn apple, and they snitched to the Royal Guard, to Song Mingi. All I wanted was to feed my sick brother, to prolong his time in this world and fulfil one wish of his. He just wanted to eat an apple.
My body trembled as the lady at the front of the line wailed in pain, choking on her own screams as the smell of burnt skin was horrid in the room, bringing acid into my throat. I was nauseous, I felt like passing out. I tried to yank my arm free again and bolt out of the Throne Room, but the guard holding me just hissed and yanked me forward as the sobbing woman was dragged away, hand cradled to her chest. I couldn’t look, I was too afraid. I knew what would happen to me, everybody knew what would happen to them if they dared steal, but I didn’t want to accept it yet. I just couldn’t. If the King branded you, you were his for eternity.
The Devil would find you in his next life, and he would claim you again as his. He would make you suffer; he would torture you and laugh while you beg for forgiveness.
I jumped as a man at the front started begging loudly, falling to his knees as his arm was forced onto the marble table, the fireplace blazing the closer we got to it. There were only three more people in front of me. The man started crying, trying to free himself, but the King’s laughter echoed in the vast Throne Room, and then the man’s scream was so loud it made my ears ring. I fought against the grip on myself again, breathing getting shallow as my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would die from heart failure before the sizzling metal rod could even touch my skin.
“Stop whimpering, you stupid bitch.” The tall man holding me hissed, sharp eyes boring into mine as he loomed over me with his lanky form. He was frightening, he was the Devil’s right hand, he was his Beelzebub. It felt like the room was closing in on me despite its grandiose size, like it was about to swallow me whole as perspiration gathered on my brows, slowly dripping down my temples. I couldn’t breathe when another man was maimed, marked for life, screams echoing in the vast chamber. My captor just smirked as the fear I felt reflected off my face, pulling me closer towards my tormentor. I wanted to run away, I wanted to save myself, I needed to return to my brother, but I wasn’t strong enough.
The King’s face was twisted in a sick expression as he pressed the metal rod into another man’s hand, his victim having long fainted. The man lay limply on the floor when the guard holding him up released him, and the King kicked him, but the man didn’t budge. The King’s jaw clenched and he groaned, looking at the guard who had held the man as if he was exasperated by his incompetence.
“Take this scum away, you fool!” He hissed, dark eyes settling on his guard as he bared his teeth at him. The King was even scarier in person, from up close, in the Throne Room. His red cheeks and burgundy tainted lips could’ve fooled anyone who didn’t know him. Why did a Devil like him have such soft features when all he did was hurt and hurt others, terrorize them and make them wish they were never born? Why was someone with an Angel face a creature so dark everyone feared its name and existence? My body shook uncontrollably as I realized I was next in line. Time stood still for a second, everything disappearing around me as my ears rung and eyes saw white only. And then, as my captor tugged on my arm, everything hit me at full force.
My rapid heartbeat, the thumping of my head, the desperation crawling up my throat, the need to save myself, I had to get out. I had to return to my brother, he just wanted an apple. Why was life unfair? Almost as if awoken from a dormant sleep, adrenaline kicked hard through my system, flooding my whole being like I didn’t know it was even possible. My lungs expanded and muscles tensed, and when Song Mingi tugged on my arm again, barely three steps away from the marble table, I jumped. I jumped and I kicked at the man’s chest, scratching his neck and making him yelp in pain. Yet he never released me, but I wasn’t giving up. I had to save myself, nobody else would do it for me. And so, I kicked when I was hoisted up by my waist, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even punched whoever dared touch me. But as if I weighted nothing, I was thrown on the marble table, back hitting it hard, head crushing into the cold table. I gasped, vision fuzzy for a second, until a dark and sinister laugh snapped me back to reality. I froze when I realized I was being held down against the table by Song Mingi, expression so dark I would’ve recoiled if I could’ve. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was so sharp it could’ve cut me if it were possible. But the King, Jeong Yunho, he was calm. He looked the opposite of what his Royal Guard looked like, and something dropped deep in my stomach.
The King looked entertained by the fight I was putting up; he was enjoying it. My lower lip quivered as a hand decorated with rings, metal ornaments, reached out and lightly traced my bottom lip. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes were captivated by Jeong Yunho’s dark ones, pupils dilated as he sneered, a crazed look crossing his features as I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. The King gripped my jaw tightly, so tightly that I thought he’d break it in two, but what was even more painful were the sharp ends of his rings cutting into my skin. I whimpered as I tried to pull my head away, but I was immobilised by Song Mingi, who was smirking as he watched the exchange.
“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered as his eyebrows furrowed, mock concern crossing his features, “Look at how frightened she is, My Mingi.”
The royal guard’s eyes turned even darker, a predatory look crossing his features as he chuckled, hold on me tightening just a little more as my body started shaking more violently, breathing loud as I breathed through my nose. The King’s smirk matched his guard’s, and he released a long sigh, making me whimper when he dug his sharp claws more into my skin, something hot prickling down my jaw and my neck, disappearing underneath the neckline of my black dress. The King’s eyes followed the drop of blood, and he closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, a look so evil was present in his eyes that I shook my head at him involuntarily, begging him wordlessly to spare me, to let me go just this time.
“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered, pursing his blood red lips, suddenly releasing my jaw as he grabbed something. My heart raced faster than before, if that were even possible, and I shook my head as I felt sobs bubbling up my throat.
“Please, please, please,” My voice was hoarse and shaky, my mouth struggled to form the words I so desperately tried to speak, “My brother is sick, please.”
“You know the rules, little dove.” There was almost something like sadness tinging Jeong Yunho’s voice as his mouth pulled to the side, eyes staring off into the blazing fire. My jaw clenched as I looked at what he was holding, and my stomach coiled in even more fear. I couldn’t let this happen, I just couldn’t.
“Let me go, I promise I will never do it again, Your Grace.” I begged, hoping that I could get to him somehow, but the King just hummed as if he wasn’t truly listening to me. I was terrified, but I couldn’t help but feel wronged. If the King provided us with everything we needed, with sufficient food, then we wouldn’t have to go out and steal as a means of survival. He was the one forcing us into doing these things, and yet he was the one punishing us for something he would never change. It was unfair, and I couldn’t help but soak in the sudden anger that flared through my body, making me fight against the royal guard as he pinned my right against the marble table, holding me down by my shoulders with his other hand.
“Why should I pay for something I’m forced to do because you have never once helped your people, Your Grace?” I snapped, glaring at the side of the King’s head. He didn’t react, and I couldn’t remain silent anymore, “Why are you punishing me when you’re the one forcing us to live in poverty and famish, My King?”
I winced when Song Mingi’s elbow dug into my shoulder painfully, but I didn’t stop glaring up at the King as he looked borderline bored, uninterested in what I had to say.
“My brother is dying because of you!” I screamed, losing my sanity as the King didn’t react, only chuckled quietly, “My brother is dying because you took away everything from us and forced us into the slums. My brother is dying because you hold people in such terror that not even an apple can be gifted anymore. I stole that apple, because nobody would give it to me anymore out of kindness. While King Choi was alive, the Kingdom was flourishing. Everyone was happy and content, everyone enjoyed life. You—you are no King, Jeong Yunho—”
“Shut up, wench!” Song Mingi’s face was suddenly looming over mine as he screamed in my face, his whole face red and enraged as I stared back at him wide eyed. My heart was racing and I started trashing around violently, trying to fight the guard off again, but to no avail.
“My Mingi,” The King’s voice was light and soft, head turning to glance down at us, “don’t rile yourself up over the words of a poor peasant.”
“But—My King, she’s—” The guard looked shocked as he stared at the King wide eyed, seemingly confused.
“A stupid, confused, little girl,” The King chuckled, looking down at me with pity on his face that made me sick to my stomach, “she doesn’t know better. Perhaps this will teach her a lesson for once and for all.”
My eyes widened when the King’s hand moved, the sizzling hot rod pulled out of the fire, getting closer and closer to my body as the King moved agonizingly slow, taunting me by the large grin on his face. I whimpered and bit my lower lip, aware that Song Mingi was holding me even firmer than before, jaw set tight as his eyes were glued onto the King.
“No—” I stuttered, gasping for air as the King lightly grazed my hand with his gloved hand, “No! Don’t—don’t touch me!”
A serene smile appeared on his lips, looking into my eyes with a look that made me feel like a small child who had misbehaved and was now getting lectured for it. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to wriggle myself free, trashing my legs around and trying to push Song Mingi off myself, but his strength was incredible, and I was too frail to even as much as make him budge, “Let go of me! I didn’t do anything wrong! Don’t touch me!”
My throat hurt from my screams, but I wouldn’t give up. I would never, I had to get back to my brother. I couldn’t let that iron rod touch my skin; I’d be the King’s forever. I couldn’t let the Devil bound me to himself, I just couldn’t. I’d never be free again, I’d never be able to leave Aurora, “Now, if you stop throwing a fuss it’ll hurt less, little dove—”
The saliva that had gathered in my mouth landed on the King’s cheek as I spat at him, nose flared and eyes wide in rage and fear as my lungs heaved for air, “You’ll burn in the depths of Hell for—”
The iron grip around my throat rendered me speechless in seconds, before I could finish my curse. My eyes bulged as I clawed at the large hand wrapped around my neck with my left hand, Song Mingi’s grip the last thing I’d feel before I’d meet my death. The King just watched us, he didn’t blink, he didn’t react. His lips twitched, but he said nothing as my spit slowly dripped down his cheek, “My Mingi.”
And before I could even wrap my mind around the sudden oxygen rush in my lungs, a searing pain shot through the top of my right hand, so hot and so painful that a scream was instantly ripped from my hoarse throat. My back arched and fingers scraped at nothing as my right arm was still held down by the guard, the King’s eyes boring onto my face as he watched me frail around in excruciating pain. The smell of burnt flesh was disgusting and it made me gag knowing that it was my own flesh burning, branded by the Crown’s emblem for life. My vision went white for a second as the rod was still burning into my flesh, it felt like it would go through my hand at any given moment, creating a gaping hole in it. I heaved for air as I couldn’t scream anymore, body shaking in shock as suddenly the King smirked, yanking the rod off my hand. A loud sob ripped through my body, right hand shaking so badly that it felt like it was an alien limb, not controlled by my own body. The restricting hands were gone from my body, and I was afraid to look at the damage done. I was on the brink of passing out and throwing up at the same time, when suddenly the King’s gloved hand was in the air, and the next second it was connected to my cheek, sending my head flying to the side. The slap echoed in the vast room, and my sobs instantly stilled as my curly hair fell over my face, shielding it from the eyes of the two tyrants. My body stilled, yet my right hand never stopped shaking. The pain was searing, pulsing, traveling from my hand up to my wrist and my whole arm, making me grit my teeth as I tried not to cry out. It hurt so badly that it made me want to claw at the scorched skin.
“You’re mine, little dove,” The King’s dark words were whispered in my ear, voice deep, “and if you try to run, I will find you, and I will kill you with my own hands.”
“Burn in hell.” I managed to grit out through my teeth, throat feeling like sandpaper. The King chuckled; sound high pitched as I heard the metal rod being thrown onto the marble floor of the Throne Room.
“She’s a handful, My Mingi,” The King mused, and I felt a gloved hand grip my right thigh as I was veered off the table. I managed to sit up last minute and save myself from tumbling onto the floor, “Take her to the dungeons, let’s teach her another lesson for being disobedient and trying to curse her King.”
My eyes widened, desperation clawing at my bones as I tried to push the guard off, but he just grabbed my arms and tied them behind my back before I could even as much as protest. My head was spinning and it was a little hard to realize what exactly was happening, the pain coming from my hand the only thing I could focus on as Song Mingi made me walk, veering me towards some stone stairs at the back of the Throne Room. Yet, I was aware that I needed to go back to my brother.
“No, no, no—my brother—” A sob cut me off as I tried to plead with Song Mingi, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, expression stone cold as I cried harder, “He’ll die, please!”
I was yanked back by my hair and forced to stop as Song Mingi breathed hard through his nose, eyes burning as he glared at me sharply, “I do not understand why My King spared you, but if you won’t shut your fucking mouth, I will gut you right here and right now. Then, you’ll join your brother you keep wailing for in Eden.”
I gasped as I shoot up, clutching at my chest and right hand shaking from the dull ache coursing through it, sweat covering my face and neck. My heart was beating frantically as I gasped for air, eyes searching my surroundings wildly. It was dark around me, but the moonlight shone through the opened curtains. The little candle I had lit before going to bed had burned out, and the sturdy wood of my bed made my back ache. I was safe. I was in laying in my bed, in my pathetic excuse of a cottage, far away from the Castle and the Throne Room. I tried taking deep breaths, tried slowing my heartbeats, tried to reason with myself that all of that was just a dream. But it wasn’t, it was a reoccurring nightmare of that cursed day. It made me miss my brother even terribly more, and as my eyes shifted towards the small dresser I had across from my bed, my eyes landed on the sketch of the King given to me by Sir Jung. Fury flamed inside my chest as my left hand slipped underneath my cold pillow, and in a swift movement, I pulled my dagger out from underneath and flung it at the sketch as a scream ripped through my lips. Jeong Yunho will pay for everything he’s done.
            It had been two weeks since the beheading in the square, two weeks of me spying on the King to my best capacities. It wasn’t easy to remain unseen, but I managed to sneak by his Royal Guards just fine each time. Song Mingi and the redhead weren’t as attentive as they thought they were. Perhaps the King wouldn’t sleep so well at night knowing that his most trusted guards were incapable of sensing danger and noticing the littlest changes around themselves.
The King’s schedule was quite simple and easy. He left the Castle grounds early in the morning to go on a hunt in the forest surrounding his estate, then he’d go down to the market and parade down the wealthier parts of Aurora. It wasn’t too often that he went anywhere else but straight back to the Castle once he was done agonizing his people in the streets, however, he had gone once or twice dangerously close to the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhibited now. There was also a time when the King was headed to the slums, to a shop famous for its otherworldly businesses, meaning witchcraft. The King wasn’t opposed to it as long as the witches served him, and him alone. Anyone who dared use their knowledge against the King would be burned on a rug, in the square. There had been witch hunts before, they used to be more frequent while King Choi was the ruler as he was opposed to anything that dealt with darkness, however, Jeong Yunho wasn’t like that. He embraced the dark and he craved the power that came with it, a false sense of immortality laying within him. It only took me two days to realize that the King was plotting something, something that was kept hush-hush and a secret from even his two most trusted guards. The King had let them go back to the Castle one afternoon and then he galloped out of Aurora, only returning the next day. I couldn’t go after him, and curiosity ate me up when the next day the King had gone to the same witchcraft shop, staying in there for hours, looking pale and almost ghostly by the time he finally left the shop. If it weren’t for Song Mingi, who was at an instant by the King’s side, he would’ve crumbled to floor and fainted. The King was doing something very highly illicit, and I needed to find out just what. Both for my own sake, but also to help Prince Choi and Sir Jung in taking the Crown from Jeong Yunho.
Tonight hadn’t been different from the King’s daily shenanigans, however, for a change, the King had gone to a run-down pub, located a little bit too close to the slums. He was joined by his two loyal guards, Song Mingi and the redhead. They wore long black gowns to hide their identities as they slipped past the dark shadows coating the streets, the lamplighters not bothering to light the candles in this part of Aurora. Of course, that did not come as a surprise. The only adequately lit parts of our burgh were the market and square, where the royal guards would march around to check if the lamplighters were indeed doing their duties. Nobody cared about those suffering outside of the richer parts of Aurora, nobody cared about people like me.
I pressed closer against the cold brick wall of a rickety hut, barely holding itself up. Many houses looked like that in the area, and it was a truly saddening sight, especially when families with lots of children were forced to live in such conditions due to the King taking everything from them, leaving them to the rats. I tried not to think of those people, it made me remember my brother, and tonight I had to focus. I needed to get closer to the pub somehow, to gain more intel on whatever was going on inside, of what the King was up to once again. But by the time I gathered my courage and came up with a flawed plan, the door to the pub was kicked open and a drunk man stumbled outside, followed by two tall gowned figures. The drunk man was loudly whistling and he stumbled on a misplaced cobblestone, roughly crashing into the side of the pub. He howled in pain, but I paid him no mind as the tall figures turned the opposite way of the drunken man had started tumbling towards, and started walking. Their pace was fast, almost as if they were trying to get away from something.
I took a deep breath and remaining in the shadows, I crept after them, eyes fixated on their tall figures. I kept a few good meters between us, and I made sure to keep my footsteps light, so that they wouldn’t accidentally hear me. The sky was clear for once, and the moonlight was your only guide through the dark streets. For once, I was grateful that the lamplighters didn’t perform to their full capacity and left the slums unattended, making my job so much easier right now. I tried to decipher who was who, but the King and his Guard’s similarity in physique was a scary realization. Perhaps Song Mingi’s shoulders were wider and stance firmer, but I couldn’t say for sure. Especially when their strides seemingly were the same. I couldn’t tell the King and his Guard apart from behind, and I felt anxiety crawl up my throat as I prayed to God that the two wouldn’t separate.
The long street we had been walking down came to a crossroads soon. Going to the left would lead you back to the prettier and cleaner district of Aurora, however, turning right would take you towards the dense and haunting forest, towards the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhabited. As the two men took a left turn, I came to the alarming realization that the redhead was seemingly nowhere, and she had arrived with them to the pub. Could she have stayed back? Had the two men gotten rid of her? That sounded absurd, everybody knew those in the Royal Guard gave their lives to the King, and the redhead was one of his most devoted soldier, she surely wouldn’t have committed treason against someone she so blindly worshipped. But then where was she? My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as I had started glancing behind myself, paranoid that I was also being followed, probably by the redhead. If they were to catch me now, I would most certainly die as they outnumbered and outpowered me easily. I might have gotten stronger over the past years, but I still remained with a smaller built. And I was no warrior, I lacked the skills they have mastered a long time ago.
The streets turned narrow once again as we got closer and closer to the richer area, cottages in better conditions littering both sides of the street. There were very few candles still alight in the houses, and I had to be more careful as the candle lighting of the streets was better in this area. I pulled the shawl tighter around my face, and made myself smaller as the two men continued walking, but faster than before. I had to run, almost, to keep up with them. My breaths left my mouth in short puffs and as the two men rounded the corner, the main street leading them back to the Castle, I followed suit. However, I almost yelped as I crashed against a hard body, sending me backwards. I instantly panicked, eyes wide in fear as my left hand went to grab my dagger, but the man that I had stumbled into was neither the King nor Song Mingi. It was just a drunken civilian, looking borderline sick. His eyes were squinted and as he tried leaning closer to get a better look at my face, I grabbed his head and pushed him to the side, making him stumble. If I wouldn’t have caught his arm quickly, he would’ve stumbled to the hard cobblestone covered road. I have underestimated his state, and I took pity on him as he looked confused.
“Go home, old man, it isn’t safe out here.” I snapped at him; eyes boring into his. The man just blinked and then nodded once, clumsily taking off again, stumbling into every possible bench and bush he could. I shook my head and quickly rounded the corner, hoping that the distraction wasn’t long enough to make me lose my targets. But, to my misfortune, there was only one tall figure walking down the long street, their pace a lot slower this time. I gulped and pulled the neckline of my own gown tighter around my shoulders, heart beating fast as I hoped the man I was following was indeed the King himself, and not Song Mingi. But I couldn’t be sure, and I was helpless as I followed after him. He was a little ahead, a few good steps, and I refrained from closing the gap again, hesitant to give away my presence just yet. If it wasn’t the King, then I had no reason to follow his Guard, he was of no use to me. My eyebrows furrowed when the tall man took a right turn, going down a street that wasn’t leading towards the Castle anymore. What had they planned? Looking behind myself, left and right too, I made sure I wasn’t followed as I quickly ran down the rest of the street before rounding the same corner the man had, gripping the handle of my dagger. It was a narrow backstreet that connected to a dirt road which led down to a small field if you continued walking left, however, it met with another even shorter path, which was a dead-end behind a fancy Inn. The man continued walking, pace once again hurried, until suddenly a black shadow leaped from the side of a building, knocking the tall man into the narrow dead-end. My eyes widened as I froze in the middle of the street, heart pounding in my chest. What was happening? I should’ve turned around and left, but I had to know whether it was the King or Song Mingi getting attacked in the middle of the night. And so, I pressed myself against the brick wall of the Inn and crept to the edge of the building, peeking my head around the corner, just barely.
The unmistakable silver blonde hair was glinting underneath the moonlight as the hood of Song Mingi’s gown had fallen down, and I hissed in displeasure. I had been fooled. I wasn’t following the King, but Song Mingi. So where had the King gone then? What was he up to again? Or was Song Mingi just getting frisky behind an Inn after a night spent at a pub getting drunk? My question was quickly answered as a hard blow was thrown against the guard’s jaw, sending his head in the opposite direction. The guard hissed and suddenly sprung forward, hand wrapping around the throat of his attacker. But the attacker was quick to fight back, and the person’s nails dug into Song Mingi’s wrist until he was forced to release his attacker. The person grabbed the collar of his gown and pinned him against the wall, face leaning dangerously close to Song Mingi’s. The height difference was minimal between the two, and my eyes widened as the person’s hood slipped from her head, revealing her red hair. What were Jeong Yunho’s royal guards doing in a dead-end, mauling each other around?
“You complete scum!” The redhead’s voice was shaky, laced with venom, “How dare you go to our King and say such lies about me?!”
Song Mingi remained unmoving, finally having given up fighting the redhead. Instead, he leaned his head against the tall cement fence he was pressed up against, and smirked.
“I see My King has let you know about the little change that’s happened.” I watched as the redhead’s grip tightened even more around Song Mingi’s gown.
“I was supposed to go on that mission, Mingi.” The redhead pressed; tone hard.
“And now it’s me going, foxy.” Song Mingi chuckled in amusement, and I heard the redhead let out a frustrated yelp. I pressed myself against the brick wall, turning away from the scene. I could hear the two guards throwing insults at each other, their voices gradually getting louder, but I wasn’t interested in their quarrel. I was here for the King, and I had lost him. Now I wouldn’t know if he was headed back to the Castle or off to doing something unlawful again.
I sighed and rubbed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts and energy to head back to the slums, to my pathetic excuse of a hut. The air was chilly again, and I was thankful for the thick gown Prince Choi had sent me three days ago, a small note saying to ‘dress up well, it’s getting colder day by day’ placed on top of the heavy garment. I was thankful, and more than grateful for the gift sent by the Prince. I had nothing to repay him with, but perhaps getting rid of the King was the biggest treasure I could offer to the Prince right now.
I was headed down the short alleyway I had just followed Song Mingi down, meaning to go back onto the main street and then head back home. However, before I could even round the corner fully, gloved fingers curled into the fabric of my expensive gown and yanked me around the corner, throwing me against the bricked wall. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of my lungs, head hitting the wall loudly, making me groan as it shook my skull. As I tried to regain my bearings, I felt the gloved hand slip up towards my throat, long fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing. I froze, left hand shooting up to hold onto my attacker’s wrist as my eyes finally cleared and were able to focus on the one holding me. And it was none other than Jeong Yunho, the King himself. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were mere slits as he glared down at me, towering over me due to his great height. The pressure around my neck grew stronger and I gasped for air, eyes widening just a little, trying to control the panic raising in my whole being. Being immobilised by the King felt too familiar, I couldn’t help but respond with panic as memories of the day I had been marked by him tried to resurface, remind me of the pain I had felt under his hands.
“What do you want?” The King hissed, lowering his head until he was eye level with me. I tried to gulp, but it was hard. My grip tightened around the King’s wrist, nails digging into his leather glove. I didn’t answer him, and even if I would’ve tried to, the way his hold was tightening stopped me from doing so.
“Who are you, peasant?” The King snapped and leaned even closer; eyebrows furrowed as his eyes travelled all over my face. He wasn’t able to see much of my features, but I knew he could see my eyes just well, and so I glared at him. My heart was racing and I tried to push his hand off, but it only made him squeeze tighter. My lungs started burning, the King was slowly choking me, antagonizing me even now.
“Speak up, wench.” It seemed he had realized I was a woman, disgust coating his features as his hot breath fanned over my cheeks. I grit my teeth and tried to push the King backwards, but he wasn’t budging. Dark sports started covering my vision, and I tried not to gasp for air, refusing to show weakness in front of him again. But as his right hand raised, the sharp edges of his ornaments grazing against the little exposed skin I had, I knew I had to do something. His ring clad fingers gripped at the shawl and my eyes widened more as I realized he was about to yank it off my face. I couldn’t let him see me; it would compromise the whole mission. In my panicked state, I did the next best thing I could that came to mind. I turned my head and bit his exposed right hand, biting through the material of my shawl. It probably wasn’t as painful as it would have been if my shawl wasn’t in the way of my teeth, but the King still hissed and ripped his right hand back, looking surprised. It allowed me little momentum to shake his grip off my neck too as it had loosened, and I lived with the opportunity, grabbing his arm and yanking it off myself. Before the King could fight back, I sprung forward and pushed at his strong chest, making him stumble back a few steps as he didn’t expect my attack.
“Who sent you, little dove?” He leered, eyes ablaze as a smirk slowly slipped onto his lips, looking like he had no intention of holding me again. Yet, he took two steps towards me, watching me like a predator watches its prey. I gulped, suddenly feeling helpless, just like the day I had been held down against the marble table, marked and maimed. I felt like that little girl again as my hands started shaking and mind got clouded with memories, making it harder to breathe through the shawl. The pain I had felt that day suddenly felt too vivid, too real, as my right hand burned, the Crown’s emblem forever burned in my skin. All the King had to do was yank my glove down and see for himself. He would’ve taken me back to the Castle and killed me, or worse, tortured me until he became bored of me.
“If you don’t speak now, I’ll kill you.” The King said in a light tone, smile spreading into a wide grin as his eyes glossed over with darkness. I gulped and steeled my nerves, reminding myself that I wasn’t that defenceless little girl anymore. I wouldn’t sit around and mop as I wait for Death to take me away. I have become stronger, both physically and mentally, and I had a mission. A mission which placed the fate of the Kingdom of the Fallen in my hands.
“You’ll kill me even if I speak.” I hissed, glaring at the King as he started laughing. There was nothing amusing about what I said, it was the mere truth. And as he extended his ring decorated hand towards my face again, I pulled my right arm back and swung it towards the King’s cheek with all the force I could muster. I was breathing hard as my gloved hand made contact with the King’s cheek, and I’ve never felt anymore more satisfying than having the King’s head snap to the side as my fist connected with his red tinged cheek. The night was quiet and my punch was loud. My heart was racing as a huge grin spread onto my lips, a grin the King couldn’t see and wouldn’t see as I suddenly took off, sprinting away. I was fast, but I knew they would catch up with me sooner than later, so, upon spotting vines coming down the side of a smaller cottage, I gripped onto them and climbed the wall as fast as I could. My heart was racing as I took off running again, hopping from roof to roof, praying that it wouldn’t give out underneath me as some felt a little too loose. I was also praying that the roof tiles wouldn’t slip underneath my weight, sending me tumbling to the cold and dirty ground.
I could hear the King and his two loyal guards chase after me, but it seemed like neither could climb onto the cottages, offering me the little advantage I needed to get away tonight. And knowing that I managed to instill even a little pain in the King would help me sleep better tonight.
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            Tonight had to have been the most nerve wrecking night of my whole life as I walked past the tall guards at the heavy front doors of the Castle. The air was warm as I stepped further inside the vast hallway, scenery way too familiar. I tried to remain calm and collected as a butler stepped closer, an inviting and warm smile on his lips, as he helped me slip out of my expensive fur coat. The dark brown fabric reached down to my ankles, shielding me completely from the biting chill the late autumn wind brought with itself. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest anytime now as I clutched the white envelope tightly in my hands, the stamp of the Crown a blood red, asking for attention against the snow-white paper. I forced a small smile onto my lips as I followed the crowd towards the ballroom, gut twisting as we were ushered past the Throne Room, a room that had witnessed so much horror ever since Jeong Yunho had become King.
Despite completely fitting in with the rich crowd surrounding me, curtesy of Prince Choi, I still felt like everyone could spot that I didn’t actually belong here. The fabric of my white dress was soft against my pale skin, the best I had ever had the chance to wear, and it fell loosely around my body. There wasn’t anything too eye catching or special about the dress Prince Choi had sent for this specific occasion, and that was the purpose. I was supposed to blend in with the rich crowd and lure the King away from the masses, where I would make sure he’d never again see tomorrow’s sunrise. It wasn’t an easy task, but tonight was the perfect timing. There wouldn’t be another one like this anytime soon as these balls were organized on full moon’s only by the King, whispers about a ritual practiced by him resurfacing every time the ball took place.
The top of my dress was low-cut and it made me feel uncomfortable for exposing so much of my skin, the tops of my breasts quite visible to anyone who looked my way, the slit in the ruffles of the skirt at least decent enough that it didn’t reach too high. The straps around my shoulders were puffy but delicate, the prettiest V line I had seen a dress have so far. Thankfully, the design of the expensive dress allowed to match gloves with it, and so, I was delighted when I saw the matching white silky gloves placed at the bottom of the box this dress had arrived in. The gloves were delicate and soft, a little cold when I have tried them on, and reached just above my elbows, the rest of my arms exposed. It was warm inside the ballroom; therefore, I didn’t worry that I would catch a cold accidentally. I have smoothed down my hair, the long curls reaching down the middle of my back, and kept it minimal when applying a little beauty enhancer to my face. The blush on my cheeks was artificial and so was the glitter on top of my eyelids, and the redness of my lips. I couldn’t do much about my pale complexion, and could only hope that the rich people wouldn’t think that I looked sick. The goal was to catch the King’s eye tonight.
When I had finally reached the top of the stairs that would lead down to the ballroom, further inside the lively chamber, a man dressed elegantly smiled widely and extended his hand towards me. I could only hope he wouldn’t pay enough attention to notice the nervousness on my face as I handed the envelope to him, watching as he delicately opened it. Inside it, there was a letter addressed to a respective Bae Joohyun, who happened to be fourth cousins with the King and the Prince. I found the idea crazy, to come to such an event under the pretence of being someone else and someone so close to the Royal family, but Prince San had assured me that they hadn’t seen their little cousin since they were five, and so, the King wouldn’t know what she looked like now. The pretence was perfect in the Prince’s head as he said my looks fit exactly that of their cousin: pale, petite, black haired, and dark eyed. Apparently, she was beautiful beyond comprehension, and I oozed a tenderness their cousin also had. I didn’t dare refute the Prince’s claims and just thanked him for helping me out once again. After all, if he wanted my mission to be a success, he had to play his part from the shadows.
“Miss Bae Joohyun, first of her name, eldest princess and head huntress of the burgh of La Rouge.” The man announced loudly to the ballroom as he read off my fake title from the invitation, and I tried to keep an amicable smile on my lips as a servant quickly rushed to my side, helping me down the marble set of stairs. It felt like everyone was staring at me in the room, which they were, and I tried to slow my heartbeat with deeps breaths in order to keep myself from fainting. I couldn’t even blame it on the restricting dress as I didn’t wear a corset, unlike many of the ladies present here tonight. It made me feel out of place, but trusting Prince San’s words, the actual Bae Joohyun wouldn’t have shown up in a restricting and puffed-up dress. She was a free spirit and often times went against the rules in order to live her life the way she wanted. Her parents weren’t too keen of her attitude and the choices she had made so far in her life, but they’d rather keep her close and not her younger sister, who apparently was a rascal and everyone’s nightmare in the burgh of La Rouge. The burgh resided on the other side of the Kingdom of the Fallen and was a lot more lenient compared to Aurora, that is, until King Jeong manages to expand his believes that far out, poisoning the innocent people of La Rouge, like he had done to us in Aurora.
And just like that, the night seemed to go on uneventfully, besides the unwanted attention men, and women alike, seemed to offer me. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s company, but I knew if I kept to myself, hidden in a corner, I would get nothing done tonight, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to raise attention onto myself if I wanted the King to find me appealing, and that was only achievable if I was surrounded by men who made me laugh loudly, even if it was forced often times. I had managed to come closer to the King more than once, but so it seemed he was too busy staring down the cleavage of the dress of whatever lady he had been talking to at the moment, clearly uninterested in whatever they had to say. His loyal dogs were around too, of course, both dressed to the nines as they surveyed the crowd, mingling with the people at times. Song Mingi remained close to the King, however, but wasn’t breathing down his neck like usual, his outfit a lot more casual than one was used to seeing him wear. His body was littered with accessories, and I accidentally had caught sight of the redhead ripping the silver chain off as it hung around the man’s narrow waist over the tight vest Song Mingi was wearing. A heated exchange between the two seemed to happen afterwards, with the taller guard backing the redhead against a pillar, sneering into her face, until the King showed up and merely tapped the two on the shoulder before walking away, beaming at a blonde woman with a dark look in his eyes.
The longer I watched the King, the angrier I became that nobody could see through his obvious façade, of the fakeness in his laughter and smiles, that they couldn’t see his eyes darkening and a sick twist crossing his features any time someone said something he didn’t enjoy. Everyone remained oblivious to his so obvious show of dominance whenever a man managed to capture the attention of those around themselves. It was pathetic really, how badly the King needed to have all the attention in the big room on himself, yearning for the praises and ass-licking these rich people were doing. It was sickening and so infuriating as I watched him throw his head back in delight, laughter melodic but loud enough to have others glancing his way, flocking towards the small group, because it was the King. And if the King found something hilarious and worth his time, everyone else wanted to know what it was about, striving to capture his attention like that. My jaw was clenched as I watched another woman wander towards him, looking abashed when the King so much as glanced her way in passing, batting her eyelashes at him. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of wanting the King’s attention purposefully, not when so much blood lay on his hands, so much terror and horror committed under his reign, under his command.
I nursed a tall glass of champagne in my hands as I surveyed the crowd, searching for Song Mingi and the redhead, finding them in different parts of the ballroom, both seemingly busy with the people they were respectively talking to. The King, however, happened to be closer to me as he was talking to two gentlemen, face impassive as he only hummed and nodded at whatever they were saying. For a second, he glanced ahead, and our eyes connected. My breath hitched and I fought every fibre in my body wanting to look away, knowing that the King liked a good chase and a little provocation. If I looked away, I would admit defeat, and he didn’t like women who weren’t a little fiery, harder to break. The thought made me sick but I quickly disregarded it and hid my fake smile as I took the smallest sip I could of my champagne, knowing that my plan was working as the King’s eyes bore into mine, narrowing. It wasn’t the first time our eyes accidentally met during the night, and I was completely convinced that his curiosity was growing the more I seemed to be teasing him. Always around, yet never approaching him. Always around, yet never actively asking for his attention. I could see his fierce eyes on me every time I laughed a little too loudly, or anytime I playfully touched a gentleman’s bicep for a second too long. The King might’ve thought I wasn’t looking, but I was. And my plan was working just perfectly. The mission would finally turn out to be a success tonight.
“Miss Bae,” My attention was ripped away from the King as a moderately tall man stopped in front of me, lips heart shaped, and kind eyes sharper rather than rounder. The man’s voice was rather deep, yet soft, and he looked almost a little shy, “I did not know you would be attending tonight’s ball.”
I plastered on a soft smile and tried to act like I knew the man in front of me. Prince San didn’t really tell me who I was supposed to know tonight, and so I had to be creative when catching other people’s names, “It came as a surprise to me as well.”
The man chuckled as he covered his mouth with a soft looking hand, eyes glinting in amusement. He didn’t look like he had dubious reasons for talking to me, unlike many other men so far tonight, and his eyes had not even once fallen onto my cleavage, “Did your father send you in hopes of finding a suitor?”
“Perhaps that was the reason,” I mussed as I took a sip of my champagne, aware of the King’s eyes on me as I continued talking to the kind man, “it seems like he won’t accept the fact that I do not wish to marry.”
“Perhaps you haven’t met the right man yet.” Ah, the likeableness of this man just plummeted as my eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed alarmed as he realized what he had said, “Oh! I was not suggesting that you should marry or anything else, Miss Bae! It is completely alright to not want to marry, I do not wish to marry either.”
“Lovely,” I hummed, not interested in the conversation anymore. The King was moving away and I had to remain close to him, “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”
“Do Kyungsoo, Miss Bae, I see the passing of the years made you forget about me.” I gulped, nervous all of a sudden as Mr. Do chuckled. I had no idea who he was, but I was sure the real Bae Joohyun would know. So, I chuckled abashed, looking down in fake embarrassment.
“My apologies, I haven’t been to Aurora in so long…” Mr. Do nodded in understanding, downing the rest of his champagne in one go.
“Then I must leave you alone to mingle some more, right?” He sounded slightly disappointed, and I couldn’t help but think that the bond between Miss Bae and Mr. Do once had ran deeper than it seemed. I cleared my throat and excused myself with a bow of my head, looking for the King. The crowd was large and as the music had gotten louder, a dance floor had formed in the middle of the big room. Everyone was loud as more champagne and expensive wine was consumed, both men and women getting bolder and handsy with each other. I tried not to see the disappearing couples behind pillars and curtains as I walked past them, quiet moans or groans alarming to hear. I was no prude, but doing anything like that just felt wrong in a place like this. Besides, I wouldn’t have dared doing anything relatively inadequate in the house of the King, under his watchful eyes.
“Miss Bae.” I jumped as the velvety voice whispered in my ear, almost making me punch their gut as I whirled around, “You’ve been alone ever since I have left your side.”
Mr. Byun wasn’t exactly the man I wished to be around right now; eyes hazed over as his breath reeked of alcohol. He had set his eyes on me the second the servant had announced my name and title, lurking around me after presenting himself and talking to me.
“You are quite wrong,” I chuckled, trying not to glare at him as he reached out a hand and twirled a dark strand of my hair between his fingers, “I have been talking to others too, Mr. Byun.”
“None as promising and handsome as myself, right?” The man smirked, overly sure of himself, making my jaw clench as I forced a chuckle to leave my lips. All this unwanted attention certainly hadn’t been part of my plan, I thought nobody would give me even as much as a second glance, busy with others, with people they already knew. All these men were making this experience even less pleasant, as if being in the lion’s den was pleasant in the first place.
“What a confident man,” I smiled widely, placing my empty glass on a tray as a servant walked by us, “I bet the ladies love being around you, Mr. Byun.”
“Hopefully you are one of those ladies yourself, Miss Bae.” Mr. Byun winked and suddenly bowed, extending a hand towards me, “Would you offer me your first dance of the night, love?”
No, I would not like to offer you my first dance of the night, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t refuse a dance, whether I liked the idea or not. I had started thinking that my plan had been flawed from the very beginning and that I wouldn’t succeed in fulfilling my mission, that is, until I felt a gloved hand sneaking around my waist, firmly yanking me into the side of a body. My eyes widened as I gasped at the sudden feeling, head snapping up, dread filling my whole being. The King was glaring down at Mr. Byun as his hold tightened around my waist, and I almost flung myself out of his grip, skin burning through the fabric where the King had touched me. Despite my goal being exactly this, to find myself in the arms of the King, it felt wrong. Very wrong. I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I steeled my nerves and hushed the thoughts that were screaming to run far away from the tyrant, and managed to ease a soft smile on my lips.
“Mr. Byun,” The King grinned, however it didn’t reach his dark eyes, “already drunk and close to passing out? It’s been only two hours since the ball started, you fool.”
Mr. Byun’s jaw clenched, but he had no choice but to bow his head in respect, “My apologies, Your Grace, I might have gotten carried away.”
“Most certainly if you thought you could dance with such beautiful maiden.” It was my turn to clench my jaw at the King’s insinuation, but I willed my heartrate to calm down and muscles to relax as the King’s dark gaze was directed onto me now, “Shall we dance, gorgeous?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” I bowed my head and forced a timid smile onto my lips as the King’s ring, claw, decorated hand found my waist too, grip firm as he veered me in front of himself and made us walk towards the dance floor. My back straightened as I tried to calm down and not tense up when the King’s hands squeezed my waist just a little bit more, narrowly avoiding a couple as they were dancing around a little too wildly for the King’s liking as he leered at them. I closed my eyes when I felt ourselves stop in the middle of the dance floor, and took a deep breath. I could do this, for the future of the Fallen of the Kingdom, for our nation, and for Prince Choi San. I could do this, and I would do this.
When I blinked my eyes open, the King was stood in front of me, a dangerous smirk on his plush red lips, staring down with hunger in his eyes as they racked down my body. I gulped and gasped when I was forcefully yanked against his broad and strong body, ring decorated hand curling into my hips as his gloved hand took mine in his, holding it a lot gentler than I expected him to. As I looked up, making eye contact with the King, he took a step forward, slowly easing us into a waltz that matched the pace of the orchestra and of those dancing around us too.
The King wore fine garments, moulded for his body, almost like a second layer for his venomous skin. His black trousers with fine white stripes clung to his long legs perfectly, enunciating his proportions even more as they were tucked into shiny tall boots that reached just bellow the King’s knees. The brown belt was hidden by the black vest clinging onto his upper body, the same fabric of his trousers seemingly sewn together with the vest’s fabric on his left shoulder and the lower right side of it. However, the back of the vest was completely different, a white fabric with black swirls on it. A black necktie was tucked underneath the King’s vest, a fine necklace with beads and a silver cross sitting on top of it, with a matching rosary hanging on top of his vest and necktie altogether. There was nothing holy about the King, it was a mere display of mockery in the Lord’s name that even such dark creature could wear and touch something so holy. The white shirt’s right sleeve was rolled up to the King’s elbows, bracelets that matched his rosary hanging snugly against his thin wrist, his metal rings, claws, eye-catching and on display for everyone to see. The left sleeve of his white shirt was tucked underneath his black leather gloves, crunching quietly as the King’s fingers tightened around mine. I tried to remain calm as the prolonged eye contact put me on edge, and I fought to stay confident and repress all the nightmarish memories of the King.
“It’s been a while, cousin.” I couldn’t completely read the expression on the King’s face, and so I only gulped. Words seemed to have escaped me, and it only made my stomach clench more when the King’s eyes fell onto my cleavage again, all too aware of how exposed I was. But it was on purpose, Prince San knew the King’s vices, and he was using it to our advantage when he had gifted this dress to me, “I don’t remember you being this quiet, Joohyun, dear.”
I gulped and scoffed, irritation not so fake anymore, “People change, Your Grace, and I have too.”
“Did your daddy tell you to behave well tonight?” His question didn’t sit well with me, especially the tone he had said it with, but I just ignored it as I rolled my eyes at the King, “Did he think you’d be rewarded for it?”
My face flushed at the implication, and it took me everything to not rip myself away from the King right then and there as I felt the sharp ends of his ornaments dig into my skin through the thin fabric of my white dress, “I’m not looking for anything, Yunho, I’m merely here to socialize, see what my cousin is up to lately.”
“I’m doing just fine, dear, as you can see.” The King chuckled, and I felt him pulling me flushed against himself, making my heartbeat quicken as I had to crane my neck to look up at him, “The Kingdom is flourishing and Aurora is doing better than it had been under King Choi’s regiment.”
“You’ve certainly brought some changes to it, Your Grace.” I couldn’t contain the snarl in my tone as I averted my eyes, staring at the rosary instead while the King just chuckled. There was nothing hilarious about what I had said, but of course, it would’ve been alarming if the King thought the way he ruled wasn’t right, “Do you plan on ruining the Kingdom of the Fallen even more?”
The King’s eyes hardened as I looked back up in his eyes, jaw clenching as I felt his right hand slowly slip lower, pressing flat against the small of my back. The action made goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I tried not to shudder as the King merely smirked, no doubt noticing my reaction to his undesired touch.
“I see your passion for the wellbeing of my Kingdom hasn’t changed, dear Joohyun.” The King smiled, but it was far from genuine, he looked irritated, “Why don’t you become Queen and mould it to your own likes?”
“Is that what you are doing right now?” I cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, “Playing with your people as if you were playing chess? What’s next, a war against the Kingdom of Light? You know their Queen can’t wait to destroy you, Yunho.”
“How saddening she’ll never get the chance to do so.” The glint in the King’s eyes was scary, they held a secret so dark I probably didn’t want to know, but I was curious. He was planning something, something dangerous and big, and I needed to find out what. But that would take time, and if I managed to kill him tonight, that dark secret of his would die with him.
“Indeed,” I chuckled and tried to ignore the way the King’s hand slipped further down, fingers barely brushing against my ass. Why was he doing this? He surely could’ve found other ladies that weren’t related to him, since he was under the impression that I was his cousin, even if not a close relative, still blood-related to him, “I see your goons never leave your side, Your Grace.”
The King’s head fell backwards as he laughed, chest shaking with the motion, the first genuine reaction I had ever seen on him. It stunned me, but I tried not to gape. I glanced to the side, unsurprised as I found Song Mingi staring daggers our way, twirling a knife in his hands. The redhead was dancing, but her eyes were solely fixed on the King as well, probably deaf to whatever the man holding her was saying to her.
“My goons, are my most loyal guards, dear, of course they never leave my side.” The King finally seemed to get over my words as he had stopped laughing and was instead grinning, glancing to the side like I had done so. His eyes softened for a second as they fell on Song Mingi, and then his cold exterior was back on as his eyes fell down on me, “It’s their duty, after all.”
“It looks like a little bit more than just duty, Your Grace.” I smirked, heart stilling when I felt the King unashamedly squeeze my ass. I jumped and tried not to sputter as he flushed me fully against himself, a sickening smirk pulling at his lips.
“Perhaps it is more than just duty.” The King whispered, winking as he lowered his head just a little bit, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. I tensed, eyes wide as I continued staring at him slightly frightened, “You smell like fresh roses, so sweet.”
I tried not to show how disgusted I felt, and instead chuckled lightly, “Thank you, Your Grace. Tell me a little secret…do your loyal dogs follow you everywhere?”
The King quirked an eyebrow, prompting me to continue as his clawed fingers pressed a little harsher into my clothed ass, “Or do your guards offer you privacy when times call for desperate measures?”
The King chuckled, leaning down so that he’d be able to whisper in my ear. I tried to remain relaxed as his hot lips brushed against my ear, tone low and words dripping with allure, “They know when not to follow, dear, would you like to see for yourself?”
As the King pulled back, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes dropped to my cleavage again, I knew this was it. I wouldn’t get a better chance where the King and I were alone, “Since you offered so nicely, My King.”
The King’s eyes darkened significantly as he released his bottom lip and licked his lips, nodding once. Before I could change my mind about what I had agreed to and flee, the King took a step back and released my body, however still kept a firm grip on our intertwined fingers, our gloves a clash of colours against each other. The crowd seemed to part as the King walked through it, curious eyes watching closely as I followed after the King, struggling to keep up with his long strides, but he wouldn’t slow down for me. I gripped the skirt of my dress and raised it above my ankles in order to not trip, paying close attention to my surroundings for when I needed to escape. It wouldn’t be easy as we were on the third floor and all windows seemed to be locked in the long corridor, and I could only hope I would find a hidden door that would lead through a passageway, helping me escape once I had killed the King.
I didn’t expect us to stop so soon, and so I ran into the back of the King, making him chuckle. He wordlessly pushed the door open for us, and allowed me to walk in first, releasing my hand. I took a deep breath before I stepped through the threshold and tried not to gape at the size of the library I had just stepped foot inside. The walls were covered in nothing but endless shelves of books upon books, a room that had two floors, ladders pressed up against the tall bookshelves for when you needed something from a higher shelf. The room was beautiful, and something vexing like jealousy plunged deep in my gut, jealousy that the King had all of this beauty at his feet while others had to suffer out in the cold streets, begging for a shilling as nobody had much money to pay up. But before I could marvel at the beauty of the library even more, I felt myself yanked backwards. The wind was knocked out of my lungs as my back collided against the sturdy bookshelves, and I panicked thinking that my identity had been discovered, that the King finally had enough of me. I was ready to fight him, grab my hidden dagger and stab him in the heart, fight and flee afterwards, but what I didn’t expecting was to feel his blood-red lips pressing against mine. I froze, eyes wide in awestruck as the King’s lips were warmer than I thought they would be, and really soft. It was a crime that somebody like him had lips like that. Out of distress, I grabbed his biceps and went to push the King away, but I realized that would be a mistake. How else could I distract him if not like this? He’d have his guard down, offering me the perfect chance to stab him. And so, I swallowed the disgust bubbling up my throat and forced my eyes to close as my fingers dug into the King’s skin through the soft fabric of his white shirt.
His right hand grabbed my jaw to tilt my head up, making it easier for him to continue leaning down to kiss me, his rings not quite digging into my skin, but dangerously close to doing so. My heart was racing as the King’s lips started moving against mine, not soft at all, not careful nor patient as I forced myself to reciprocate it. It was hard, every fibre in my body was screaming at me to stop this, that I could distract him somehow else, but a more logical side of me knew that I just couldn’t. I was doing this for Aurora, for the Kingdom of the Fallen, and so I relaxed against the King’s strong body and forced my thoughts to silence. My arms raised and I wrapped them around the King’s shoulders, pressing up on my tip toes to kiss him better, opening my mouth for his lips to fit better against mine. The King didn’t waste time as his tongue slipped past my lips and lapped at my mouth furiously, a moan slipping past my lips as I fisted the black strands of hair sitting neatly on his nape. The King seemed to enjoy that as his claws suddenly dug into my skin, making me whine as his tongue brushed against mine, licking at it in a way I didn’t know was possible, my knees weakening involuntarily as the King’s body pinned me against the bookshelf, immobilising me, caging me between himself and the bookshelves. It was a little scary, but I didn’t dwell on it as the King sucked on my tongue, completely dirty and nothing like I have experienced before, my cheeks flaring as I felt his gloved hand settle at the base of my throat. My heart picked up thinking that he would try and choke me, rob me of my already waning air, but instead, it slowly slipped towards my breasts, cupping my right one harshly. I moaned and chased after his mouth as he pulled slightly back, slotting my upper lip between his, suckling on his bottom one as the King started massaging my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, groaning loudly into my mouth.
It was starting to get hot around me, our actions affecting my body in ways it long hadn’t been affected like, the touches of the King igniting a dormant fire deep in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t fair that he could elicit such a reaction out of me, not when I bore nothing but hatred towards him. It wasn’t fair that I had to go out of my way to do something I didn’t wish to do in order to get rid of the tyrant, and it only fuelled the fire in my veins as I latched onto the King’s lips furiously, setting a pace that was bruising to our already swollen lips. Low groans slipped past the King’s lips as our noses kept knocking against each other, his right hand leaving my face as it went behind my body, grasping my ass painfully. I gasped and tried not to recoil when the King suddenly licked at my bottom lip, humming lowly in the back of his throat as he flushed our lower bodies together, rutting into me. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I refused to open my eyes, scared that I would run away if we made eye contact. The King groaned as he massaged my flesh through my dress, and the hand still squeezing my breast finally disappeared and grabbed onto the other cheek of my ass before it slowly slipped back onto my lower back, fisting my dress. My chest was rising and falling quickly, and I tried to regulate my breaths and clear my mind, assess the situation in order to be able to proceed. But suddenly, I felt cold metal pressing into my skin, grabbing my jaw firmly.
“Open your eyes, little dove.” My heart did a somersault and I froze, thoughts running a million per hour, panicking. Had he finally realized who I really was? I felt teeth sinking into my bottom lip painfully and I whined as my eyes snapped open, freezing as the King’s dark eyes were right in front of mine. His neck, ears, and cheeks were flushed red, lips swollen and glistening with saliva. His pupils were dilated and he smirked as he massaged the small of my back, suddenly his thumb swiping across my lower lip. I couldn’t look away, it felt like he had bewitched me, locked me into place as I struggled to fill my lungs to the brim with air. I was scared, waiting for the predator’s next move, trying to anticipate what he’d do next. But I certainly didn’t think he’d slip the sharp metal ring inside my mouth, forefinger pressing against my tongue, “Suck.”
I gulped and maintained eye contact with the King as I licked his finger, trying to ignore the animalistic look on his face as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked on his ornament decorated finger slowly, swirling my tongue around it. The King leaned closer, lips hovering dangerously close to mine, brushing against his own knuckles. The King was panting hard as he slipped his middle finger too inside my mouth, and I tried to remain calm as I became aware of the ache in my right hand, the mark he had given me three years ago suddenly burning as if it were freshly made. I wouldn’t be able to handle this for much longer, gut twisting in sickness, yet my body was pressing harder against the King’s, aware of the neediness that had suddenly overcome it. I pushed my tongue between the King’s two fingers and sucked on them, making the King’s jaw clench until he suddenly pulled them out of my mouth, making saliva drip down my chin. I was embarrassed and my cheeks burned as he grabbed my left thigh, lifting it up and around his hips, pressing his body into mine, the hardness all too obvious in his trousers as he rubbed himself against me. My breath hitched in my throat at the friction, the King’s eyes glossed over as he released my thigh once he was sure I’d keep it there. My fingers tangled tighter into his locks as he allowed his metal decorated fingers to travel up my exposed thigh due to the slit in the skirt, only stopping when it reached my clothed core. I tried to stop the whimper from escaping my lips as I bit down on my bottom one, completely at the King’s mercy as he started rubbing small circles against my clothed clit, embarrassed of how reactive I was to his ministrations. I was aching, clenching around nothing, but I forced myself to stay level-headed as I fisted the collar of the King’s shirt and yanked him down, pressing our lips together once more, forcefully. I locked his hips against mine with my left leg and rolled my hip against the King’s hand, whining as he kept the slow, antagonizing, pace. I made sure he was busy with working me further up as I slowly slipped my left hand out of his hair, down his shoulders, stopping at his narrow waist to squeeze before I carefully removed it from his body, leaning a little forward and into the King in order to reach the top of my white boot.
My dagger was hidden just inside of it, the cold blade pressing against my shin all night long, waiting for this exact moment. I could feel the triumph in my bloodstream as I gripped the handle of the blade, moaning as the King cupped my clothed core, but stopped his ministrations altogether. I didn’t stop kissing him, however, as I raised my dagger high, ready to plunge it deep into the King’s back. But before I could even as much as move my arm, suddenly, my head was slammed to the side, making me hiss loudly at the dull ache in my jaw as it crashed into the bookshelf painfully, my left arm pinned to the bookshelf above myself. I froze, blood turning ice cold as I was afraid to even as much as breathe despite my lungs heaving for air. The King’s nose suddenly was pressing into my left cheek, his sweaty forehead resting against my temple as his breathing was loud and shallow. I didn’t dare move, frozen to the spot. I had been discovered, and now I would die. I would fail Prince San and bring shame to my name. I was nothing but a failure, soon about to meet my brother in Eden.
“Bae Joohyun, you say,” The King chuckled, sounding actually amused, “I didn’t know my own cousin hated me so much she wanted to kill me herself?”
I took quiet breaths, but didn’t speak up. It seemed like the King still had something to say, I didn’t dare interrupt his monologue, “I didn’t think your unrelenting support could turn into hatred in two weeks, cousin.”
Ah, so this is where Prince San had made a mistake. Bae Joohyun and Jeong Yunho had been in contact all this time, and apparently, she was on his side. Prince San should’ve known better, but so should have I. I should’ve trusted my gut feeling this time, and I didn’t, and now I would suffer the consequences. Because darkness always prevailed, no matter how much the good and kind fought for its disappearance.
“People change.” I managed to mutter, right side of my face digging painfully into the shelf. I wasn’t panting anymore, but my frantic heartbeat made it hard to actually breathe, and so I was still struggling to calm down.
“Not you, little dove.” The King whispered, and suddenly I felt lips pressing against my ear, making me jerk. The King was frighteningly strong, and I finally started pushing against him, trying to free myself, but it was futile…as always, “Stop fighting against me, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”
“Burn in hell, Jeong Yunho.” I hissed, trying to look at him from the corner of my eyes. The King chuckled, trailing kisses from my temple down to my jaw. I tried to push him off again, but it did nothing.
“Still trying to curse me,” The King muttered, nuzzling his nose against my cheek again, “I suppose you didn’t change, my little dove. Did you think I’d forget? Was it worth that apple?”
My eyes widened to the point of falling out as the King suddenly released me, my head snapping forward as my heartbeat stilled. I went to throw a punch at his jaw, but he completely took me off guard as he grabbed my right thigh too and hiked me up, pressing me into the bookshelf again as he pinned my wrists above my head, the dagger clattering to the floor from my grip. Out of reflex, my legs wrapped around his hips tighter, knowing that I would slip down despite the force the King was pinning me down with.
“You killed my brother.” Was all I managed to whisper, eyes filling with tears. The King shushed me and leaned his head close, his soft features scary all of a sudden as his blank mask slipped back on.
“You killed your brother by stealing that apple and getting caught for it.” The King whispered, eyebrows furrowing, “If you wouldn’t have put up such a fight, I wouldn’t have thrown you in the dungeon, in fact, I would’ve allowed you to take the leftovers from the kitchen for your brother—”
“Screw you!” I screamed, fury lacing every part of my being, heart hammering in my ribcage, “Curse you! Burn in hell for everything you’ve done! You dare mock me to my face about my brother?! I promise you I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sunrise!”
“Bold words coming from such a frail dove like yourself,” The King mocked, pouting as my body started trembling, “I could behead you right in the middle of the ballroom, my little dove.”
I didn’t care anymore what he did to me. He could kill me right here or right in front of an audience, I didn’t care anymore as long as I was free of this miserable life.
“Do it.” I gritted through my teeth, leaning into his face, lips ghosting against his, “Do it, you fucking coward. You could’ve easily killed me in the alleyway that night or in the square, even now, yet all you do is run your mouth with empty threats.”
I knew they weren’t empty threats, that the King would actually kill me in the following minutes, but I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I have seen all grey colours of his, I knew who he was, what he was capable of.
“If I had killed you, where would be the fun in that?” The King raised his eyebrows, pressing a light kiss against my lips, making me jerk my head back, “You think I don’t know my brother and his pathetic of excuse of a guard sent you to kill me? Little dove, if they wanted me dead so bad, why didn’t they come after me? Why did they send you?”
I froze, eyebrows furrowing as the King continued with a small amused smile, “They sent a poor girl that is desperate to avenge her brother’s death, a girl that is so weak she can’t even free herself right now, yet all I’m doing is pin you against a bookshelf, little dove. My brother, Prince San, and his pest, Jung Wooyoung, merely sent a weak and poor girl to kill a King that holds twice the strength she does just because they wanted to use you, because they knew you hated me strong enough to actually do what they asked of you. They knew you had nothing to lose anymore, and they know you do not care for your safety or life anymore, my little dove.”
I was stunned listening to the King’s words, slowly shaking my head no, refusing to accept such words. No, that is not why Prince San and Sir Jung had chosen me to eliminate the King, it couldn’t be. That’s not who those two were, and I would’ve been a fool if I succumbed to the King’s words, letting his poisonous words infect my brain with lies.
“No, you’re wrong, My King,” I whispered, eyes boring into his with such hatred that it ricochetted off my whole being, “Prince Choi and Sir Jung aren’t like you. And if I’m just a means to an end in their grand plan, I do not care as long as they manage to rid the Kingdom and this world of you, Jeong Yunho.”
The King hissed, obviously displeased by my retaliation, by my fervorous belief in the Prince and his Royal Guard, “I see you refuse to see the truth just yet, my little dove, so let me give you two options.”
My eyebrows furrowed as the King leaned so close his breath fanned over my face, dark and piercing eyes boring into mine, his cheeks still tinged red, “The very obvious first option is death, but I don’t feel like getting rid of you just yet, my little dove, therefore, I have a second option for you.”
He paused, a sick smirk twisting his lips to the side, making my stomach drop in dread, “You become my good little obedient spy, my ears and eyes in Aurora, and in return, I shall reward you with immunity.”
“No—” I was shaking my head before he could even finish what he was saying, but the King’s sneering face quickly made me shut up.
“I wasn’t finished talking, Y/N.” My breath hitched, he even knew my name, “You will go back this instant to the pathetic mansion those two idiots are hiding in, and tell them, that if they even as much as dare to think to send someone to assassinate me again, I will dismember Jung Wooyoung in front of Choi San after I dissect their whore of a maid, leaving my dear brother for last, publicly executing him in the square, calling all of the Kingdom of the Fallen together to witness the fall of the Crown Prince. Understood?”
My lips quivered as my eyes filled with tears, my voice merely above a whisper, “No, Your Grace, I won’t—”
“I’m not giving you an option, my little dove,” The King suddenly released my arms, which fell limply next to my body as the King cupped my left cheek with his sharp metal rings, “I’m giving you an order that you will execute.”
I tried to blink the tears away, recoiling when one slipped down my cheek and the King kissed it away, “And once you have delivered my message, I expect you back at the Castle, my little dove.”
My breath stuttered in my throat, wide eyes looking into the King’s dark ones. Suddenly, he bucked his hips and I gasped as I realised he was still as hard as mere minutes ago, making my heart race, “Because little doves like you deserve a reward, and you’ve been awfully pliant tonight, so I will fuck you senseless and teach you a lesson afterwards.”
My blood froze, the colour leaving my face as the King snickered, pressing a soft kiss against the bridge of my nose as he suddenly stepped back, gently placing me back down against the floor. I felt abused, thrown around and mauled, skin burning everywhere the King had touched. I was disgusted, and yet I knew I had no choice but to do as I was told. I belonged to him, and even if I ran, he would find me. I gulped as the King’s gloved fingers danced up my gloved arm, slowly slipping the silky fabric down my hand, making me shiver. I clenched my jaw and refused to look down as the King raised my hand, staring at the damaged skin in awe. His lips were parted and he took a deep breath, slowly leaning down and kissing the maimed skin he had caused with his own hands three years ago. I closed my eyes shut tightly, trying to fight the tears that threatened to escape.
“So beautiful,” The King whispered, hot lips brushing feather-light against the skin of my right hand, “Mine, little dove, you’re all mine. You always have been.”
I gulped as I looked at the King, jaw clenching as I yanked my hand out of his and quickly wore my glove, hiding the atrocious scar that he had caused. The King seemed to be in a trance as he stared at me, making my heartbeat quicken even more when he didn’t say anything.
I needed to leave, I felt like I was suffocating.
“My Mingi will meet you in the back gardens, my little dove, ready with a horse.” My blood ran cold, hands turning into fists as the King turned away from me, walking towards the massive oak desk he had in the middle of the library, “I expect you back in an hour, my little dove, and if you don’t come back, I will burn down everything in my way to find you. Understood?”
I grit my teeth, staring daggers into the back of his head, “Understood, Your Grace.”
And if finding a different way to kill the King would be the cause of my last breath, I would still do it. This wasn’t the end, he hadn’t won yet, because I would always remain on Prince Choi and Sir Jung’s side, always. In fact, the King had made is easier for us to find out all of his weak points, easier to stab him in the back when he least expects it.
If I had to dedicate my whole life to bring down such evil, I would do it over and over again, because in the end, goodness always wins.
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yanderecxre · 3 days
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Yandere!Cult Leader/Priest × gn!reader
Summary: Mason Blackwair always knew you'd be his. His sweet little dove, kept peacefully by his side, it's such a shame you've gotten so disillusioned with the teachings, but that's fine. It just gives him the opportunity to keep you with him forever now, willing or not.
CW: gaslighting, stabbing, cults, abuse of power, pet names, religious themes/wording, breeding, disassociating (reader), non-con, dycraphilia, dubious consent, loss of virginity, threats & as always if you think I missed anything just pm or say anything!
Note: peeks in and waves hi! Hope you guys like this one if you want a part 2 let me know!! ~ bunny
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You are a member of your family's cult. Recently, you've begun to doubt your faith and the cult members found you guilty; as punishment, you were chosen to sacrifice yourself in the name of God.
At night you came to your priest, Mason Blackwair cell to ask him to mitigate your punishment. Mason sits quietly and calmly, his face illuminated by the light of a candle, his thin long fingers running over the pages of the Bible. Finally, Mason notices you standing in the aisle and smiles brightly. Despite the certain joy in his face, it is obvious that his smile is fake and here just for the sake of politeness.
“Hello, my dear dove. What brings you here?”
Mason doesn't let you answer and interrupts you with a little laugh.
“Ah, wait! I think I got it, little dove. Did you come here to talk about your punishment? I am sorry to tell you this, but I cannot influence the sacrifice in any way. Soon I will become the leader of our beautiful commune and that is why I need to maintain the reputation of a strict and fair manager…”
For a second, something like annoyance and sadness flashes in Mason's eyes and he quickly turns away.
“My advice is… To open your heart for salvation, little dove. Perhaps our Lord will hear your request.”
"The same Lord who wants them to tie me to the altar and cut me until I'm cleansed?”
You demanded softly, teary eyed as you looked into his eyes, the eyes that once belonged to your childhood friend. The sweet boy who used to pick flowers with you and run around the commune, now turned into nothing but a stranger.
Mason pauses for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if he is trying to find something in your expression. Finally, he stands up from his seat and walks towards you, stopping just inches away from you.
"My dear dove… Do you know what this sacrifice means? It doesn't mean that they want to kill you. They want God to purify your soul by shedding your blood.”
Mason puts a hand on your shoulder, smiling gently at you.
"Look at me, little dove. You know how much I care about you and the commune's faith. But it doesn't mean that I am blind to the human side of things. I will talk with your father and see what we can do for you."
At this point, there is a sincere and caring note in Mason's voice.
"But remember, our Lord has a plan for all of us, even when it seems like He is leading us through dark paths."
You just shook, rage and fear in your veins. You quickly turned away and left him behind, crying now. It broke his heart to see you so upset, he reached out for you but only touched empty air as you exited with the final parting words.
"I'm retiring to my prison.”
Mason watches you retreat silently, his expression unreadable. Once you are out of sight, he sighs deeply and picks up the Bible again. He flips through its pages, frowning at whatever it is that he sees.
After a few minutes of brooding in silence, Mason closes the book and walks towards the door of his cell. Before leaving, he turns back to look at the empty room with a sad smile on his lips.
"I hope you'll forgive me someday for what I'm about to do."
He murmurs softly before blowing out the candles and leaving it behind, retiring to his bedroom.
You spent the entire night crying your eyes out, lamenting that all you'd see tomorrow was the crazed looks of the people you once thought of as family, your weak pathetic cries echoing around your cell.
You stood still as your parents led you to the altar, your father offering soft whispers of apologies as he and your mother tied you down, a knife lay beside the altar. You looked up at the ceiling, teary-eyed.
As you lay tied to the altar, your family gathers around with solemn expressions. The room is dimly lit and there's a faint smell of incense in the air.
Mason steps forward, his robes rustling as he walks towards the altar. He stops at the edge, looking down at his dove with an unreadable expression.
"Dear little dove…" Mason says softly, reaching for one of your hands. "You are about to become a vessel for our Lord's power. Do not be afraid.”
Mason picks up the knife from beside the altar and holds it gently in his hand.
"I will be performing this sacrifice myself," he adds. "May God have mercy on your soul."
With that said, Mason places a gentle kiss on your forehead before raising the knife above his head with both hands.
"Do not resist," he whispers to your ear. "Receive His love."
You closed your eyes and sobbed, refusing to let that sick yet soft look in his eyes be the last thing you saw.
Mason hesitates for a brief moment, his grip on the knife faltering slightly as he hears you crying. A flicker of emotions crosses his face before he quickly regains his composure.
"Dear dove," Mason says softly, almost pleadingly. "Do not be afraid. The pain is temporary but the glory you will experience afterward is eternal."
With that said, Mason slowly lowers the knife towards your chest.
"May our Lord have mercy on your soul," he whispers as he plunges the blade into your flesh.
The sacrifice lasts only a few seconds - it's short, but terrifying- and everything becomes blurry to you, as if you'd been transported out of your body and that someone else was experiencing this torment instead of you.
When it's over you feel weak and faint.
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When you awoke, you were back in your bedroom, your mother sitting on a chair beside you. She reached out to touch you and you flinched terrified, letting out a loud sob.
As you awaken in your bedroom, you see your mother sitting beside your bed on a chair. She reaches out to touch you, but flinches when she sees that you are terrified of her and immediately backs away.
"Shh… it's alright," Your mother says softly, trying to comfort you. "You're safe now, my dear.” you want to scream ‘LIAR’ at her as she speaks, saying you were safe. You felt horrible and terror filled your body.
Mason enters the room and stands at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest, watching silently as your mother tries to calm you down.
"You did well today," he says coolly. "Thanks for receiving His love."
Although his words are praised-like, they do nothing to produce any emotion or feeling from him. He watches you, shaking and looking like a terrified animal, like a lamb who barely escaped the slaughter. He wants to say more but knows nothing he says will help you.
It was like seeing a ghost, his little dove no longer did as they usually did. There were no more sweet smiles or hymns sung as chores were completed, no more treats baked with trays especially reserved for Mason. Instead his dove was shut away, in their room, only going out for meals and sermons or whenever their parents coaxed them out.
Mason notices the change in your behavior and it bothers him deeply. He cannot help but wonder if he's partly responsible for what happened to you.
One day, he decides to visit you in your room. When he enters, you are sitting alone by the window staring out at the sky. You look up when you hear him come in.
"Little dove," Mason says softly as he approaches you. "I'm here to talk with you.”
There's a slight tremble in his voice - an unusual vulnerability that shows that even someone like him has feelings.
"I know that things have been difficult for you lately," he continues, taking a seat beside you on the bed. "But I want you to understand that everything we do is for the greater good of our commune and our faith."
He places a hand on yours and looks into your eyes with deep concern.
"You can always talk with me if there's something troubling you."
You stared blankly back. "I am fine. I've been cleansed by the knife.” You whispered softly and finally looked at him with vacant and distant eyes.
Mason nods slowly, sensing that there's something you're not telling him.
"I see," he says quietly. "But I can see that you're still hurting inside. And I want to help you."
He takes a deep breath and continues, "Little dove, I know that the sacrifice was traumatic for you. But it was necessary for our faith. You were chosen because we believe that your spirit is strong enough to endure it."
He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching her face.
"But if you're still feeling lost or confused… You can talk to me about it. Remember: Our faith is in everything."
"I used to play the piano. Right? Or did I sing? My memory is confusing.” You looked up at him, sadly. Shaking slightly as you stared at nothing. “I don't know who I am anymore, Mason. I'm scared.”
Mason furrows his brow slightly, unsure of what you are trying to say. He doesn't remember you ever playing any instrument.
"I'm not sure what you mean, little dove," he says with a frown. "What are you talking about?”
"I don't remember who I was before the sacrifice. Who was i? Who am I now? I'm scared Mason, so scared. Who was I before you drove the knife into me?”
Mason freezes at your words, his mind processing what you just said. He stands up from the bed and takes a few steps away from you, his face contorted with shock. He thought you'd forgotten he'd been the one to do it.
"What are you talking about?" he asks harshly. "I never drove the knife into you, little dove."
His voice is cold and hard, and there's a hint of anger in it.
"Who told you such lies? You are mistaken. Your mind is playing tricks on you dove." Mason mutters as he knelt between your thighs, grasping your hands in his and squeezing them. “Fret not little dove, your mind will get better.”
"May our Lord have mercy on your soul." It's spoken in a mockery of Mason's voice. You looked at him slightly confused, "That's what you spoke, right? Unless um, I misheard… but it sounded like you-”
Mason's eyes widen in realization as you speak. He takes a step closer to you, his expression softening.
"Oh, little dove…" he says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to go through this."
He pauses for a moment before continuing.
"You are right… It was me who drove the knife into your heart. I did it because our Lord told me so in a vision - it was His will that you be sacrificed.”
Mason cups your face gently and looks into your eyes with compassion.
"But please believe me when I say that everything we do is for the greater good of our faith. Your family has devoted their lives to serving Him."
“Y-you did? But- w-why? It hurt- a lot-” You were working yourself up into a panic before he gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Hush, little dove, you're recovering, do not strain yourself, you know why. In order to cleanse you, now enough of this. Rest and cease thinking about such things further.”
Mason looks away from you for a moment, his eyes full of sadness.
"I know you're not thinking clearly right now," he says quietly. "But I still feel responsible for what happened to you. I know that you must hate me now… But please understand that it was never my intention to hurt you."
He takes a deep breath and continues, "All I wanted is to protect our faith and people from the evil in this world. Sacrifices are painful, but they purify our souls and make us stronger - so we can better serve Him.” Mason murmured and hugged you tightly to his chest.
"I f-feel upset. You're supposed to protect me, yet you drove a knife into me and now that- that everyone in the commune saw it- i- I'll be alone forever and my parents won't find me a spouse.” Your lip wobbled and you sniffled slightly, clinging to him. You were unable to see his cruel and satisfied smile as he held you, petting your hair softly.
Mason listens to your words with a sinking heart. He knows that it is true - he did drive the knife into you, and that decision has caused you so much pain.
"I… I had no choice," he says quietly, almost to himself. "It was His will."
Fake tears glisten in his eyes as Mason looks at you, finally realizing the weight of his actions.
"You're right," he says softly. "I should have protected you, not hurt you. I cannot change what happened now… But I promise you this: I will do everything in my power to help you recover from this. Starting right now.”
Mason gently kisses you, his lips pressing against yours as he speaks. “I'll remedy this immediately, you and I shall marry. That way you won't be alone.” He doesn't give you a moment to speak, already pressing you against the bed, kissing you deeply now.
You let out a muffled noise of confusion and panic, squirming underneath him and pushing at his chest. His lips finally move away only to seek your neck and leave bites and bruises upon it as you gasped and whimpered. “A-ah! M-mason- wait- p-please hold on- i-”
His head lifts up, looking at you with his eyes blown wide as he grunts an acknowledgement to your words, “Yes my dove? Sh, it's alright, who better to take responsibility than the one responsible for your misfortunes? Relax, or would you rather this happen at the altar later? Where everyone, will see and hear you?”
You trembled slightly the idea of that happening terrifying you to your core yet feeling slightly exhilarating. Mason grinned, feeling you relax and continued making his way to your waist.
Mason kissed down until he reached your entrance, humming softly as he placed his hands firmly on your squirming thighs, grunting loudly as he forced them open. “Enough of that, do not do that again or I will have to tie you down. Understood little dove?”
You nodded, or tried to as you gasped softly and whimpered out a moan at the feeling of his tongue licking and sucking at your entrance, no one had ever touched you there. “Mhmph! M-mason! Hng- t-too much!”
Mason puts a comforting hand on your thighs. He pulls away from between your thighs, face covered in his own saliva and your fluids that ran down your inner thighs.
"I understand that it can be scary, little dove. But I promise you, nothing will harm you here with me."
He gives you a reassuring smile. Breathing heavily as he speaks, his fingers finding their way to your still quivering entrance which he circled a finger around.
"Besides, my love for you is as pure as the intentions of our God. All we have to do is make love and everything will be alright.”
Mason's finger breached your entrance, slick with something that made it easier to handle, slowly thrusting his finger in and out. He gave you plenty of reassurance and pressed kisses to your thighs and stomach.
“Dove, you must relax, you're still clenching up and tensing up. You'll hurt yourself more than me if you don't relax.” With those words he sunk another finger inside, his free hand pinning your hips down to the bed when he felt you buck upwards.
Mason grunted as he felt your tight heat around his fingers, if you were this tight around his fingers you'd never be able to fully take all of his cock. He didn't want to hurt you more than necessary, not yet at least.
“Sh, sh dove, easy there we go, good little pet.” He murmured as you whimpered and moaned, feeling his fingers hit something inside of you that had you unable to breath. You heaved slightly and looked down at him through tearful eyes.
“M-mason- please- ngh! That feels….. mhm! Good-” You moaned out and let your head drop against the pillows, falling into a dream-like state as you allowed him to continue. “M-more…. Please give me more-”
Mason grinned at your words, a sinister gleam in his eyes before he cooed and slid his fingers out, shushing your confused whines with a simple kiss before he undressed himself and tore your remaining clothes off.
"As our Lord wishes," he whispers between kisses, his voice reverent yet filled with desire.
Mason aligned his cock with your entrance, sliding it through your messy thighs first to coat it before he spread your legs and slowly sunk in.
“P-please, please be mhmph! Gentle, please Mason?” You whimpered softly, eyes locked on him as he looked down at you, mouth drying when he saw your flushed and tear stained cheeks.
Mason looks down at you with tender eyes, his hand running up and down your side soothingly.
"I will take care of you, little dove," he says softly. "I promise."
With a gentle but firm motion, Mason fully enters you, slowly thrusting in and out of your body. His movements are gentle at first, but soon become more passionate as the intensity increases.
As he fucks you, Mason whispers religious phrases to you: "pray to me", "I am your God", "repent for your sins". He continues kissing and caressing every inch of your body, making sure that you are comfortable throughout the entire ordeal. Even as he feels you twitching around his cock, your own fluids covering both his cock and your thighs and stomach. How many orgasms had he wrung from your body? Five? Ten? You lost count.
He's filled you up more times than you can count, you thought he was trying to breed you and knock you up the way he came and came. You couldn't move as you moaned and whimpered, unable to speak much less move and do something about him fucking your sensitive body.
When he's finished, Mason pulls himself out and lays down beside you, holding you close to him. The room is silent except for the sound of breathing as you both catch your breath after Mason seemed to fill you up so much a slight bulge could be seen, you shifted trying to get comfortable yet only felt his cum leaking out your spent hole.
"Sleep now, little dove," he whispers softly into your ear. "We have obeyed our Lord's wishes. Soon enough tomorrow, we will marry and you'll live with me, my perfect little dove who won't have to do anything but obey and listen.”
You fell asleep, cuddled into his side as he looked down at you, a possessive look in his eyes. He'd deal with the consequences of your parents finding you two together in the morning for now, he'd happily hold his little dove and admire the marks he gifted them.
Mason stays awake, holding you close to him throughout the night. As the sun begins to rise and light filters through the window of your private quarters, he kisses your forehead again before getting up.
"I must leave now, little dove," he says quietly. "But know that I am always here for you."
As he dresses in his priestly vestments, Mason turns back to look at you, a hint of sadness in his eyes.
"Now go back to sleep and rest as much as possible. And remember what we did was pure love. Our wedding will be soon.”
He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips before making his way out of your room and back into the world outside.
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milla-frenchy · 2 days
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Breathe (SMBU part 5)
4k9 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller x raider Series summary: you’ve been kidnapped by raiders, Joel is their leader. Women who don’t “behave” are locked in a place you call “the shithouse”. You live in your own house, “freely”. You and your roommate, Vic, became girlfriends. Joel, Tommy and the guards have free use of the women in the camp, while respecting Joel's strict rules. Chapt summary: Joel wants to make things clear, if you ever decide to oppose him again.  Him and Tommy use you for an "initiation" Warnings: 18+ mdni. Dead dove. Dark - noncon (captivity, threat) / dubcon Gangbang, dvp, oral (f/m), spitting, spanking, rough sex, degradation, praise kink, size kink, piv, rimming, anal, creampies, angst a/n: Heed the warnings. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. I don't condone any of this. Thank you @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog for beta-ing 💕🫶 The Prodigy - Breathe | playlist | ao3 | series masterlist
Main masterlist - Part 4
The next morning while you and Vic were still sleeping, Joel brushed your cheek to wake you up. He asked her to go to her bedroom then changed your bandage gently so as not to hurt you, asking if it was painful. He placed medicine and bandages on the dresser, and left saying he was letting you rest. You didn't see him or any guards for two days, until one of them came and told you to follow him. You tensed up when you approached the shithouse, but you didn’t ask why you were there. You knew it was pointless, the explanations would come in due time, probably from Joel, not from a guard. You approached one of the bedrooms and you heard grunts and moans. Your discomfort grew.
“Stay here,” he told you, after letting you into the room. The smell was terrible. Still made of cum and piss. You tried to look away as she tried to catch your gaze, silently begging for your help. You wanted to cry knowing there was nothing you could do for her. Nausea seized you. Three guards took turns between her thighs. Tears ran down her cheeks but there was nothing human in these men’s eyes or words. They were taking, taking, taking. Raping. Feeding on her fear as much as her body. The mattress was even dirtier than the first time Joel had brought you there, the day you had to choose your fate.
When all three had come inside her, they passed by you, staring at you from head to toe and you placed your hands in front of your chest as an illusory protection. Once gone, you moved closer to her after grabbing a dirty blanket from the corner of the room to cover her.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m sorry.” She was crying and was ashamed, as if it was her fault. You hated them. The door opened and Joel entered.
“Having a good day, Julie?”, he asked.
You hated him now, and he saw it when your eyes met. He grabbed your elbow and led you out of the room.
“You’re gonna get her killed.” You were so shocked that you were shaking, barely managing to keep your composure. You hoped not to show him but your guts knew better than your mind. This man felt the slightest emotions that emanated from a person, and he used them. Whether to make them feel bad or good, depending on what he wanted. He was way too good at this, and it was probably why he was still alive, running raiders camp in the lost world. 
“Getting fucked ain’t gonna kill her.”
“Come on, Joel! She is poorly nourished, probably has lots of deficiencies and perhaps an infection. Not to mention a psychological damage. Have you really lost all humanity?”
You were trying not to cry. You imagined far too easily how you could have been in her place.
“You know I don’t. You're still there”, pointing with his chin at the house where you lived. “In your pretty bedroom. With your pretty girlfriend.”
The way he said it made you shiver. You showed him your bandaged hand, to make him think about you, rather than her.
“What’s your point? You think those guys, the one that railed her, wouldn’t have done worse?”
“What do you want me to say? That you're less of an asshole than them? Still an asshole to me.”
You wondered if you were going too far but you were too upset by what you had just witnessed. “Why did you show me this? Those guys? You’re gonna threaten to send me there again?”
“No. No I won’t. We both know it wouldn’t work.” You looked at each other, waiting for the other one to speak. He spoke first.
“You think you have leverage on me, that I love your pussy too much to throw you to these men. And maybe it’s true. But now I have leverage on you too. I know how much you care about her. So if you piss me off again she’s gonna be thrown here and fucked an entire day by these guys. To teach YOU a lesson. She doesn't need one, she knows her place.”
"You disgust me."
“Oh, baby. You hate me now, but you love my cock as much as I love your cunt. You may have forgotten it for now, but you’ll remember it when you’ll moan, bouncing on it. Go back to your house now, lesson’s over.”
You insulted him in every possible way in your head, while he looked at you with his arrogant smirk. Fully aware of what was on your mind. Your heart sank thinking about Vic, and you went straight to your room, hoping that sleep would make you forget everything else.
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Footsteps woke you up in the middle of the night, just before a guard entered your room and asked you to follow him. It was unusual. When one of them wanted to fuck you at night, he would do it in your bedroom and then leave. As if they wanted to leave their scent in your bed. You were even more surprised when you saw that he wasn't taking you to the fuckhouse. Or the shithouse. For a moment you couldn’t help but be afraid that Joel would “teach you” another lesson there.
The guard led you to a house you had never been in and knocked on the door. You heard Joel shoot “come in”. The man closed the door behind you, and Joel told you to go upstairs. He was lying on a bed, in jeans and a t-shirt.
“Is it…?” you started to ask.
“My bedroom, yeah.”
You looked around. The furniture, the way the room was organized. Everything was clean and tidy. You looked at the window, illuminated by a nearby lamp. Pink, blue and purple paper butterflies were hanging there, moving with the breeze that brushed against them. Everything was minimalistic in his room, and this childish touch of color stood out from everything else. You turned to him with a confused expression and he took a moment before responding.
“A reminder of my daughter.” A veil formed over his eyes. Your heart sank when you heard this confession. With those words, you suddenly realized two things. He had experienced a loss that broke his heart, and you had a special place for him. A part of you had already known it, but now you couldn’t deny it anymore. And somehow, it complicated things for you. From the beginning, you wanted to hate him. But your heart wavered because of Joel's behavior. You knew you were suffering Stockholm syndrome, you knew that your instincts were doing what they could to help you survive, at almost any price. But it wasn't just that.
And now, you didn't know why or how, but this special place you had, was there. Even if he was capable of acting like an asshole, to fuck you with three other guys or to throw you out to all his men. Or to cut your fucking pinky. But he decided to tell you that and your heart was racing. His constant hot and cold behavior was driving you crazy.
“How’s your finger?”
“Great, for a cut off one.”
It made him smile. You, not so much.
He stood up and came up to you, and surprised you again when he asked if he could hold you. You considered saying no to him, but that wasn’t what you wanted. Even if you hated yourself for it. So you nodded and he took you in his arms, and for a few minutes your body relaxed, enjoying the security he was offering you. Your body was lost in his arms, and you loved that feeling, that strength all around you. And not directed against you, for once. He took your chin between his fingers and lifted it towards him. His brown eyes, which sometimes turned black. But not there. And he kissed you. He’d done it before, while he was fucking you, but never like this. His lips were soft and warm. His hands slid down your body, brushing against your breasts, and you shivered. He removed your top and slid his hand between your breasts, rubbing their curvature. Then your pants, getting on his knees to remove them from your feet. Your panties, while he was still kneeling in front of you. He looked at your pussy and brushed your folds with his thumb.
“Lie down on the bed,” he said.
“Can you…” you stopped, not daring to go further in your request.
“Can I what?”
“Take off your clothes? I’d like you to be naked, like me.”
“Ok, baby,” he replied.
“Can I do it?”
He nodded, and let you take off his t-shirt, pants and boxers. He was barefoot.
“Thank you”, you breathed out, before going to lie down. He knelt at the foot of the bed, sliding you over to him. He was calm. Different from the other times when he had fucked you alone. As if he was less harsh. As if he was human, at least a part of him. The emotions were so strange in that new world. And even more so when you were in captivity. Used.
When he placed his lips on your pussy, you forgot the rest. His tongue brushed against your folds up to your clit, before his lips gripped it, sucked on it, kissed it.
“Open up for me,” he said.
You folded your legs further, resting them against the bed. He spread your folds with his hands and spat on your clit then on your folds, before sliding his thumb on your delicate skin. “Joel…” you whispered. He didn’t respond, preferring to slide his tongue into your pussy, groaning between your thighs. Fucking you with it and collecting all your wetness. Digging as far as possible. His thumb twirling over your clit. Sometimes he would let his saliva flow onto your clit again. The feeling of it flowing over you, before he spread it with his thumb, electrified you.
“Good girl,” he said, just before he moved his tongue up to your clit and buried two of his fingers in your pussy. His other hand was on your stomach, caressing your skin. As if he wanted to feel your stomach moving up and down, following the pace of his fingers or tongue. You felt your orgasm building. He spat one last time, knowing the effect it had on you. You came on his fingers, your pussy clenching on them. You heard him moan, tongue resting on your clit. Feeling its jolts.
Then he crawled over to you, a firm hand around his hard, thick cock. He nestled it at your entrance and pushed in without waiting. Eyes staring into yours, until you had to close yours, trying to get used to his size. He was spreading your folds with his cock, without forcing but without slowing down either. Until he bottomed out.
“I love to fuck you, you’re right”, he confessed in your ear. “Best pussy I’ve ever fucked, maybe. Takin’ my cock so fuckin’ good.” You whined against his neck.
“Told you, baby. You love my cock as much as I love your cunt.” You didn't want to think about it. You were there because they had captured you, because you were forced to let him, them, fuck you.  As if he knew what you were thinking, he added, "yeah, since the beginning, you're getting off on being fucked by raiders."
There he was again, that Joel you hated. Your whole body contracted as you tried to push him off of you but he tightened his grip, continuing to fuck you slowly, growling in your neck.
And you hated it but you couldn't deny the heat that rose in your core, his cock rubbing against your g spot, and his lower stomach against your clit. 
“Yeah, baby, just like that. You’re gonna come on my cock.”
“Yeah…I…fuck, Joel…”
“Come on, baby, I missed your cunt these last days. I missed stuffing you full of my cock.”
He wrapped his arms under your shoulders and pulled you close.
“Talk to me. Tell me what you feel.”
“I…I feel it coming. Growing in me. It’s so good, so warm. Why do you…Oh god…I’m gonna…Joel, Joel…”
“Why do I what?”
“Shit…why do you make me feel so good…”
He growled, and added “come on, baby, squeeze my dick. Come on it, then I’ll fill you up.”
You put your legs on his lower back, allowing him to fill you deeply, completely, as he was thrusting in just as slowly.
“Yeah, fuck, yeah…just like that baby.”
You dug your nails into his flesh as the wave hit you. He kept his body against yours, his cock buried deep inside you without moving, just to feel the jerks of your pussy on his cock. Until he came too, just by being clenched by your folds, and shot his cum deep inside you. He lay on top of you for a few minutes, then he withdrew. He told you the guard was going to take you to your house. You picked up your clothes, put them back on and left. On your way back home, you tried to stop your tears from falling. As if your heart expected that he would treat you differently, less harshly, after that moment. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. What you were thinking, how you could be so naive. He was just a raider.
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The days passed. The multiple fucks too.  With time you learned to keep yourself busy. Learned to sew, knit. Tinkering, refinishing furniture. The men brought back various things from their raids. Women were not allowed to leave the camp of course, to avoid the risk of them escaping. At first, time passed agonizingly slowly and you were bored, but refused to participate in activities with other people. To meet other people, chat with them. As if that would mean you were giving in. And then you broke down and took some seeds available in the warehouse. You planted them in the vegetable garden. It was the first activity you got involved in.
Loads of books were available and you had discovered many authors. The days were passing faster now. Sometimes you couldn't help but wonder what you would do if you could leave this camp. If you could survive, and how. If you would come across worse than the men there.
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One day you noticed a new soldier. Young, early 20s. And your heart sank thinking of those young people who had only known that violent world. What would their life be like, in another universe? He wouldn’t become a raider, who learnt that women were only a resource. You hated this world so much. Several times you felt his gaze on you. A look still pure, despite everything.
“You like her?” Joel asked him.
“Well…she’s pretty.”
“Yeah, she is. Wanna fuck her? You had the talk with Tommy, right?”
“Yeah, but…I don’t know, I’ve never done that.”
“What, you’re a virgin?”
“No. But…I’ve never fucked a woman who didn’t want it.”
“Yeah well, it’s not a problem here, kiddo.”
You knew they were talking about you even if you couldn’t hear them. Joel wasn’t exactly discreet.
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When a guard came for you that night and brought you to the fuck house, you knew what was going to happen. Joel, Tommy, and the young guard were already there, waiting for you. 
“Hey sweetheart, always a pleasure to see you”, Tommy said, grabbing your ass and kissing you, as he always did. “This kid here has some things to learn about the camp. You’re gonna be a good girl and help him with that, ok?” As if you had the choice. You shrugged. 
“But well, once he tastes this pussy, the others will seem bland to him.”
“Don’t be rude, Tommy. We have other good pussies to fuck. Her roommate, for example.”
They both sneered. “Assholes”, you thought. Tommy laughed, seeing your face. “Ok, sweetheart, let him taste your mouth.”
You knelt in front of the guard, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers. He smelled good. He was semi-hard, looking down at you. Embarrassed. As if you were in a position of strength against him. You wondered how long it would take before it would change.
You took his cock in your hand and let your saliva run down his tip. Spread it with your thumb, then jerked it gently.
“I wonder how long it’ll take him to paint her face,” Tommy chuckled.
“No, no no. Not too fast, kiddo. We like to fuck them when they’re full of cum. Stuff her at least long enough to cum inside.”
You saw him blush. At least women weren't the only victims of their degradation, and somehow that made you happy. You moved closer to him and licked his tip gently, tasting his precum. He jumped and you smiled, before taking him in your mouth, continuing to jerk him gently. His cock was an average size, and you didn't need to get used to its thickness between your lips. You moved down his shaft, keeping your fist clenched at the base of his cock. Picking up the pace slightly, you began to suck him at a steady pace. His precum flowed down your throat, and you heard him moan.
“How does that feel, kiddo?”, asked Joel.
“Good, fucking good”, he answered. “And you…really fuck her, all of them, when you want?”
“Yeah. Day, night. You can fuck them alone, or with other guards. As you wish. But you do it the way I say. You make them cum, you don't hit them. You can slap them a little, we all like it when our cock is buried in their pussy, but not more than that. You have the ones from the shithouse if you need to let off some steam.” You stiffened when you heard him speak like that.
“Fuck…ok, ok.”
Your saliva ran down his shaft and you licked it.
“Oh fuck…ma’am…” Tommy and Joel snickered, hearing him.
“He’s cute”, added Tommy. The guard didn't even hear him.
“Wait, or I’m gonna come, they said I couldn’t do that uh…in your mouth.”
“Come lie down on the bed, baby. He's gonna fuck you. How do you want it, man?”
“All fours? Is that ok?” he asked, looking at you.
He was sweet and cute, and despite the incongruous situation you wanted to counterbalance the attitude of the two brothers.
“Of course”, you answered. You settled onto your hands and knees, waiting for him to come behind you. He knelt down and hesitated.
“But uh…what if I can’t make her come?”
The brothers laughed. You couldn’t imagine how he must feel, having to fuck you in front of both of them, as if it was something normal, while they didn’t even hold back their laughs. He was still so pure.
“It’s ok, kiddo,” Joel replied. “You’re young, you gotta learn. We’ll make her come, don’t worry.”
“Are you two gonna...make love to her, after me?”
“Oh yeah…my brother and I, we’re gonna make love to her. Don’t worry ‘bout that.”
The guard moved closer to you, placing his hands on your hips before grabbing his cock and sliding down to your entrance.
“Oh, fuck”, he said, when your pussy clenched against his shaft.
“Yeah, she’s tight. We still don’t know how she manages to take both of our cocks at the same time, in that tight pussy”, said Tommy.
“Two? Are you both fucking her at the same time? In the same hole?”
“In the same hole, yeah. Or one in her cunt and the other in her ass. Depending on what we want.”
“Oh, man…” 
He started to fuck you. He was clearly not experienced, his movements were clumsy. But he wasn't abrupt, wasn’t hurting you. He spread your ass cheeks slightly, probably looking at your ring.
“Ever fucked an ass before?”
“Oh, fuck…I’m gonna…shit. Oh damn it was close. No, never.”
“You’re gonna love it. Even tighter than her pussy. Much tighter. The first few times you'll probably cum just from digging your tip into that hole.”
You heard him moan, and he came in your pussy, grunting, clinging to your hips.
“Ok kiddo, not so bad, but you gotta practice. Ever ate a pussy?”
“Yeah, well…a couple times.”
“You gotta learn to make them come that way. And when you’re really good at it, you'll make them cum by rubbing their clit while you’re fucking them. And then, just with your cock. Right, baby? She loves that.”
You blushed with this allusion to the night at his house, and the guard pulled out.
“Ok kiddo. Lesson number 2. You’re gonna watch us fuck her.”
“Come sit on my cock, baby. Hurry up, don't waste his cum, wanna fuck you through it”, Joel told you, spanking your ass. He sat against the headboard and you straddled him. His gaze was unfathomable, but it wasn't the same man who had fucked you missionary in his bedroom. He was good at compartmentalizing, much better than you. You grabbed his cock and impaled yourself on it gently. “Fuck”, you mumbled. He was thick, much thicker than the guard, and you needed to lower yourself onto it slowly.
“You missed my cock, baby?” he asked you with a smirk.
You dug your nails into the flesh of his shoulders, as you gradually sank onto his shaft.
He smiled and grabbed your shoulder, and added “I missed your cunt too. God, I love to fuck you when you’re full of cum.”
The guard’s cum helped you get used to his cock. Joel grabbed your ass with his hands and started bouncing you on his cock. You bit your lip. Tommy was sat in a chair by the bed, his dick in his hand, and said “you look so fuckin’ pretty bouncing on my brother’s cock, baby.”
He came closer, jerking off, and said “suck my dick, baby. Make it wet, we’re gonna need it.”
You wondered how he was going to fuck you, but whether it was in your pussy too or in your ass, you knew you had to make it easier for you. He slipped his cock into your mouth without waiting.
“Shit, yeah, you’re hot baby, suckin’ my brother’s cock.”
He had slowed down the pace to allow you to suck Tommy properly.
“Look at that Joel, the kiddo is already hard again.”
“Nice. You’re gonna have another lesson today. Sharing a cunt with another cock. I hope you’re not one of those who doesn’t want two cocks touching?”
“No…no I don’t mind.”
“Good.”
Tommy kept thrusting into your mouth, while Joel's hand on the back of your head accompanied your movements until he shifted it to stroke your clit with his thumb. His cock was rubbing your core, filling you perfectly, as his finger was swirling your clit. Every time they both fucked you, you always forgot at one point or another the situation you were in. Only focusing on your sensations, and theirs.
“Look at that, kiddo. She’s gonna come soon. She loves taking our cocks so much, like a good little whore. Right, baby?”
You nodded, your mouth around Tommy's shaft.
“Yeah she’s so good at this. Prettiest mouth and prettiest cunt. Taking us so well”, Tommy added.
Your pussy contracted more and more on Joel's shaft, as his thumb gave you what you needed, until you came all over his cock.
“There we go…you’re doing great, baby.”
Tommy pulled out of your mouth, holding your cheek with his hand while you came down from your orgasm. Joel pulled you towards him, leaning forward to offer you to Tommy, who was already kneeling behind you.
“Ok, baby. One more dick”, he said.
“Yeah, that's what you want, baby, right?”
You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. You were used to both of them taking you by now. Used to the feeling of your pussy spreading on both of their cocks. Even if it still stretched painfully, as the second one thrust in. And somehow, taking them both, that abandonment, strangely made you forget your life in the camp.
You felt Tommy’s hand on your hip, and the head of his cock pressing against the dick already inside you. Using it to slide his member in.
“Oh fuck, men…that’s so hot,” said the guard who had moved closer to watch.
“Relax, baby…let me in. Yeah, just like that. Good girl.”
Tommy's praise had always helped you to relax, to turn you on. Today, like any other day. He usually did it in a lighter way than Joel, perhaps less degrading.
“Breathe, sweetheart.”
You did as he said, breathing slowly until his tip slid into your pussy, spreading you completely. You whined into Joel’s neck. 
“That’s a good girl”, he praised you.
“Look at you takin’ these cocks baby”, added Tommy as he continued to thrust in. “Yeah, just like that. One more dick in that cunt.”
They slid into you slowly, then gradually increased the pace. You heard them growl. Joel against your ear, Tommy on the back of your head.
“Gonna take my place after I fill her, man?” Tommy asked the guard.
“Yeah…fuck…Sure.”
“We’re stretching her good, damn…”
Tommy grunted and you felt his hot cum fill you, then some of it leaked out of your pussy.
“Thank you baby, another great fuck”, he said, kissing your shoulder.
You whimpered when he pulled out. Joel remained still and the guard knelt behind you again.
“Take it easy, don’t hurt her. Lean against my cock and slide gently.”
“Ok, sir”, he replied.
He rested his cock against Joel's, covered in Tommy's cum, and thrusted his tip in.
“Oh, fuck, she’s so tight.”
“Yeah, she is. That's good, uh? Come on kiddo, slide in. Slowly.”
The guard placed one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, holding on for leverage. And they started to fuck you. Sometimes sliding together, sometimes alternating rhythms.
“You’re ok, baby? You’re taking our cocks so good, fuck…”
“Yeah, yeah…I’m ok.”
“You’re such a slut, baby…Always ready for more” you heard Tommy say.
“I’m…I’m gonna cum”, the guard whined.
“Come on, kiddo, fill her up. Then I’ll fuck her like she needs to get fucked”, Joel said as he looked at you, grabbing your cheeks in his hands and keeping you facing him.
You heard the guard grunt then freeze, adding his cum to Tommy's.
“Ah fuuuuuck, that’s hot, baby. You never disappoint”, Joel said.
The guard pulled out, and so did Joel, as he told you to stand on all fours while he knelt behind you.
“Yeah, I finally got this pretty pussy all to myself. I'm gonna fuck you rough baby. I know you want it. Hope I'll feel something. We really ruined you, uh?”
He slid into your pussy without waiting, hands clinging to your shoulders. Fucking you hard, without respite. Then he spat on your ass, rubbing your ring with his thumb, his other hand on your waist.
“Gonna fuck that ass. Pussy’s too ruined.”
“Wait, Joel!”
“Calm down, ain’t gonna hurt you.”
He pulled away, licking your ring and spitting on it as he jerked off. Then he positioned his cock covered by your wetness and the other men cum at your entrance.
“See, kiddo…that ass” - he thrust his tip in - “is so good” - pulled back - “that I can never stay too long” - he thrust in totally - “without fucking it. Oh fuck!!”
You laid your head on the pillow, moaning and fisting the pillow, as his hands were buried in the flesh of your hips, fucking your ass hard and deep. You heard him growl more and more.
“Look at that kiddo, she’s taking it so good”, Tommy praised you.
Joel thrust in a few more times, hands frozen on your hips, then he stopped, flooding your ass with his cum. He stayed there while he caught his breath, then withdrew.
“Kiddo, go pick up her girlfriend in 30 minutes.”
Then he looked at you and added “we have to keep teaching him how to fuck”, smirking.
You went back home.
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When Vic finally came home that night, you were waiting for her to go to bed. But the guard didn't leave, and told you to follow him, from the front door.
“Jesus Christ…how many times does he need to fuck today?” you mumbled, looking at her.
He didn’t accompany you to the fuckhouse, but to Joel's house, once again. You went upstairs and heard the shower running. You sat on Joel’s bed waiting for him to finish. When he came out a few minutes later, in boxers and a towel around his neck, his hair was still wet and drops of water were beading on his curls. He was magnificent, from head to toe. You looked at his body as he walked towards you. Several scars covered his torso.
“You’re staring, baby”, he said with a smile.
“Yeah, well…not only men can do that.”
He smiled even more when he heard you. He brushed past you without touching you, and went to bed. “You’re gonna sleep with me tonight.”
“What…I…didn’t bring any sleeping clothes.”
“You won’t need them.”
*************
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dragon-kazansky · 2 days
Text
Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Ten - Duel at dawn
♡♡♡
Meanwhile, at the art studio, Benedict was still lingering around. Most of the artists had vacated the room by this point, but Benedict Bridgerton was still present.
"You have great potential." Henry said, coming up beside him.
"It's nothing," Benedict says sharply.
"Though, for such a staunch critic of others, you certainly lack a clear eye for your own work."
Benedict sighs. "It's the lines. Not what they're supposed to be."
"Take the compliment, Bridgerton. There is no expectation or judgement here. You left all of that back in Mayfair. You can feel free to be yourself here... if that's what you should like."
Benedict smiles.
"It's what works for me, at least. And I haven't been dissatisfied with my lines in... well, quite some time."
Benedict chuckles again. "Well, I've done worse, I suppose, really."
"Mm. Fair enough."
"I seem to have enjoyed myself too much this evening." Benedict looks around at the empty room. "I should be on my way."
"As you wish," Henry says nonchalantly. "But know you are welcome back any time for practice or even conversation."
They both chuckle.
♡♡♡
By the time Benedict gets home, Anthony and Daphne are talking very seriously in the hall. He stops and looks at his two siblings.
"What is it?"
Anthony marches over and grabs him by the arm. "You and I need to talk. Daphne, bed."
Anthony drags his brother to his study.
"I will need you to stand as my second," he says after explaining everything to Benedict.
"What if you get yourself killed?" Benedict asks. He wasn't exactly thrilled about what had apparently transpired, but even less so about the thought of losing his brother.
"Then the title and estates will pass to you," Anthony tells him.
Benedict didn't want that.
"And if you kill Hastings?"
"I shall have to leave the country, and you'll be head of the family in every way that matters."
Again, he didn't want that.
Chuckling I the hall draws their attention to the door.
You laugh with Colin as Violet hangs off the both of you. She's clearly been drinking a lot tonight. She can't even walk straight. You've never seen her so uncomposed before.
The door opens behind you, and Anthony and Benedict are standing there.
"You're clearly sover," Colin laughs with his mother.
"And I'm sober enough to know when you're being impertinent." She chuckles. "Good night, dear."
You giggle. Violet waves at you lazily, and you chuckle again at her inability to remain composed.
You turn to see the two brothers still standing there and nudge Colin. He looks at you and then at them. They wave him over.
"Good god. Did someone die?" Colin asks.
You look at Anthony, who glances at you, his sowlnt thank you for helping bring his mother home. Then your gaze shifts to Benedict, who looks at you with a strange expression. You wonder where he's been all evening.
Colin turns to you. "Get home safe, okay?"
You nod, knowing your maid was waiting outside. You watch him walk toward his brothers and then leave.
♡♡♡
You arrive early to the Bridgerton house the next morning. You had snuck out alone. You had hoped to be there early enough before Anthony left to duel the duke.
Unfortunately they had already left.
You had, however, arrived in time to see Daphne and Colin leaving. When Colin saw you he sighed.
"You cannot be serious."
"I am."
Daphne says your name as she looks at you. "You do not have to witness this."
"I want to. As your friend. I will not allow this stupid, and mind I remind you illegal, activity to take place."
Colin sighs and helps you up into his horse. "Hold on."
He spurs the horse on, leading Daphne to the agreed spot. You hold on tight to him as he rides.
All Daphne can think about is Simon.
"Anthont won't... kill him, right?" You ask, watching Daphne ride.
"No. Sound him, surely."
"Good..."
"Are you worried?" He asks.
"Yes. Are you not?"
Colin doesn't answer.
By the time you arrive within diat ne of seeing them, the two are already stood feet apart with their pistols aimed. It's Daphne who rides faster to get between them.
"Stop!"
Anthony fires his pistol as soon as she shouts, the horse his sister's on rears back and Daphne falls to the ground.
"Daphne!" Simon shouts.
"Sister!"
Both men run toward her.
Colin pulls his horse to a stop, and you both climb off, rushing to them. Benedict drops the pistol case and does the same. He doesn't have time to ask why you're here.
"Are you hurt? Tell me!" Simon demands.
"I am perfectly well, no thanks to you idiots," she says, standing up.
"What are you playing at?" Anthony asks.
"Says the man who just shot at me!"
"You just rode into the middle of a duel!"
"I require a moment with the duke," Daphne says softly.
Anthony tries to stop her, but she stops him in return. Benedict pulls Anthony back and says, "make it brief."
Daphne and Simon walk off to talk.
"What are you doing here?" Benedict asks once they're out of ear shot.
"I came to help stop this ridiculous display."
"You could have been hurt," he says.
"No one got hurt, luckily."
Benedict looks a little lost for words. You sigh and look at him and then at Anthony. The eldest looks at you and nods once, softly. His eyes then flick back over to his sister.
"We must resume before someone should find us," Anthony says to the pair.
Simon nods at him.
Daphne watches him walk and then says, "there will be no need to resume."
Everyone turns to look at her.
"The duke and I are to be married."
You look at her and then turn to the duke. You're not sure what they discussed. He stares at her.
The three brothers look between the duke and their sister.
Whatever they discussed, Daphne made up her mind.
When Simon does not speak against her statement, it becomes clear to everyone that the matter is settled.
Now you all just need to get home before someone sees you all.
♡♡♡
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173
@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner
@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd
@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle
@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15
@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -
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prodkeiji · 3 months
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when will you stop villainizing us lol
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medicinemane · 2 months
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So... saw something about Zip Stitch, and was reminded I might want to get them given I'm in the middle of nowhere
Go to try and find stuff about their efficacy...
...literally... every... last... study... I... find... is about their efficacy, very specifically, in "vaginal cuff closure during laparoscopic hysterectomy"
Every single one across multiple sites (can't even tell you if they're good at it, I didn't click through to the studies cause I find studies often very very dense and hard to pick out the worthwhile info, so I'm not doing that for not what I'm looking for)
Like... I mostly want to know if this is a good idea to grab these (look good) or if it's a good way to bleed out (advertising isn't always truthful)
I'm not totally sure if it's the same study on many sites, or if they just... really wanted to study this but... that's what I've found
We know at the very least that they tried it out with a very specific application
0 notes
fox-guardian · 8 months
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hey guys did you know that um. did you know. first of all did you know i'm losing my mind, secondly, do y'all remember in tma how when someone reads a written statement, they don't really Stop unless they're interrupted? and they read the whole thing easy cheesy, no issues with reading whatever words are there? like. jon literally could read french for a whole statement and was Fine. granted, that's Jon, but like nobody else struggled with pronunciations and whatnot (that i can recall)
presumably, this is an eye thing. either as employees of the institute, or because everyone there is just also eye-aligned in some degree (melanie had the ghost hunting show, the eye is fond of martin, etc)
and then there's tim in season 3 ep 86
[Sigh] Statement of… uh, Benjamin Hatendi… Hateendi? Regarding a… [papers rustling] a blanket. Dead friend. Monster. Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end. How he tried to hide. He couldn’t. Statement is from… 1983, March 2nd. And I guess… [long sigh] I guess I’m doing this one. Tim Stoker. Archival assistant… Archival prisoner at the Magnus Institute.
correct me if im wrong but i don't recall anyone struggling with pronunciations before this bit. but that's not even the biggest thing here, that's just a lil Taste, a lil Flavor.
note the phrasing there. "Regarding his unavoidable and gruesome end." why would he say this when the written text on the statement says this:
Uh, right. Benjamin Hatendi’s account of… [rustling pages] oh for… a, a strange encounter. Er, statement date, March 2nd, 1983. Melanie King recording. Apparently.
"a strange encounter". that's it. nothing about an unavoidable death, just a "strange encounter". Tim Why Did You Say That.
why would our dear timothy bimothy, who is being pushed to the brink, who is becoming rapidly more depressed and losing hope, say this?
this isn't the only time he's said some weirdly grim shit tho (ep 104)
There was never really any hope for me, though, was there? This was how it was always going to go.
and then there's this bit from elias apparently having Looked into tim (also 104)
TIM All right, hit me with your X-ray eyes then, boss. What do you see? ELIAS Disruption. An unpredictable, angry man with nothing left but the desire to feel in some way revenged. TIM [Sarcastic] Ooh, terrifying! Surely only magic could have let you see so deep inside my very soul.
"nothing left" but the desire to feel revenged. and tim doesn't dispute this, because it's true.
when he first joined the institute he did so in order to look for answers about danny, but then he stopped seriously looking. and now that the circus is back, this is all the drive he has left. not looking for answers, just wanting revenge. closure. an end, if you will.
this is Literally It For Him. a couple lines later he suggests elias kill him, he's At The Breaking Point.
he is so tired, he's lost all hope, and he's saying all this grim shit about "unavoidable death" and "this is how it was always going to go" like hmmmm sounds familiar doesn't it. DOESN'T IT (<- is going insane)
(ep 11) [....] despite the rapid response of the paramedics and how much of his medical history I had immediately to hand, there was nothing I could do to save him. (ep 11) I have no responsibility to try and prevent whatever fate is coming for you. Based on my previous experience, such a thing is likely impossible anyway,[....] (ep 121) There. That was it. That was our fate; where we would always be.
hmmmm sounds a bit like oliver huh? everyone's favorite ex-accountant avatar of the end?? right??
but then there's this last bit i have from ep 86.
why did he stop reading the statement
Statement. “My parents never let me have a nightlight. I was always afraid, but they were ju–” Ugh, this is stupid.
why did he do that. again, correct me if im wrong but when else has someone just Stopped Reading like that without someone or something else interrupting them? why could tim just stop himself?
my theory is this: at this point, tim is completely gone from being aligned with the eye. he no longer seeks to know what happened to danny, he just wants closure. he doesn't wanna do any statement work, and he keeps mentioning these tidbits about hopelessness and the inevitability of terrible events, specifically death.
the eye isn't compelling him to read the statements like it does the others, because it doesn't have as strong a hold anymore. the grip is slipping from him. and by the time the unknowing rolls around, maybe it's lost him for good. maybe he finally fell into a different power he never meant to serve, and yet, he does.
and maybe. just maybe. because i'm so not in denial. but MAYBE. he did die in the unknowing. but maybe he got better.
basically end!tim truthers rise up, this is how end!tim kayaking with his bf oliver banks can still win, etc etc I'm Going Feral <3
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fangswbenefits · 9 months
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Consequences
Summary: Miguel’s obsession with you reaches a breaking point, and now he’s left to deal with the consequences.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 2.5k
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Shy/inexperienced sweet reader. Pining. Pillow hump*ng.
Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous part
Miguel hadn’t managed to get a single second of sleep.
After having heard you mumble that name over and over, he had retreated to the living room, scanning through your file like a madman, hoping he’d find out who this person was.
Tom.
He had Lyla comb through everything, but nothing had come up.
By the time six in the morning rolled around, you exited the room with a long yawn, stretching out your arms, as Miguel sat on his counch, eyeing you intensely.
Still not wearing a bra.
Still in his shirt.
But having mumbled someone else’s name.
Needless to say, this ordeal had effectively killed his boner for good.
It was hard for him to hide his scowl. “Sleep well?”
Your lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Hmm. You?”
Laughable.
He nodded, not wanting his voice to betray his feelings.
“Do you think I can take a shower before I go to the lab?”
“Sure.”
You glared at him, arching an eyebrow. “Is… everything okay?”
“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “You have some fresh towels in there.”
“Great!” you chirped happily, disappearing into the bathroom.
Maybe a few hours ago, Miguel O’Hara would have been rock hard from the thought of you being naked with nothing but a door in the way.
But he was having a hard time focusing on anything beyond his blinding jealousy.
Who was Tom? A boyfriend? Family? A pet? Someone random?
Or someone important?
Why didn’t he know about this? Was he overreacting? Maybe there was nothing to be jealous of.
But he was sure of something: he needed answers.
He walked up to the kitchen and brew himself a cup of coffee, needing to deal with the headache that had settled.
Not long after, you emerged from the bathroom, completely soaked in the scent of his body wash, and he nearly gasped at how it completely overtook his senses.
Already in your suit, you quickly dropped by his bedroom to drop off his clothes, and walked right back, bearing a sleepy smile.
“Want something to eat?”
You nodded, sitting on the stool by the counter. “Yes, please. Do you have some fruit?”
He grabbed his cup of coffee and scanned the cupboard. “An apple?”
“Yes!” you beamed.
Miguel offered you one that you immediately brought to your lips, sinking your teeth into the soft surface.
To someone on the outside, this could be considered a moment between a couple who was just getting ready to start the day.
Everything looked very… domestic.
Except, it wasn’t.
Maybe he shouldn’t ask. Would it be too much?
But he had to know. It was eating him alive inside not knowing.
“Who’s Tom?”
Your eyes shot up to meet his and you immediately stopped chewing. “What?”
Miguel tried to appear as casual as possible, but something in your reaction made him regret having asked in the first place.
There was no going back now, so he might as well push for it.
Right?
“I heard you in your sleep,” he went on, taking a sip of his coffee. “You whispered that name.”
Your face had hardened lightly and your gaze dropped to the apple in your hand. “Uh… yeah. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
I didn’t even sleep…
“Is he family or…?”
You swallowed and slid off the stool, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s no big deal. Wait… what time is it?” you said, tapping your watch. “Oh. I need to head back to the lab.”
At this point, Miguel knew he had maybe fucked up big time, and went into full on panic mode.
“I’m sorry that I asked, I-”
You immediately shook your head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine! Thanks for letting me stay over.”
He rounded the countertop and walked up to you, desperate to fix whatever he had just broken.
“You can take the day off if you need.”
You smiled again, but he knew that this time it was genuine. “That’s exactly what I don’t need. Now that I’ve managed to get the chips to work, I need to get back and run some tests.”
He allowed himself to relax slightly. From this distance he could smell his shampoo on you, and it made his heart clench.
There you were again.
His hardworking sweet girl.
You gave his arm a light pat. “Thanks again, Miguel. Your bed is really comfortable,” you said, heading to the doorway while rummaging through your backpack. “Much more than mine.”
He’d have it in your apartment in a heartbeat, and he nearly offered, but chose silence.
“See you later!” you waved with a smile before taking another bite out of the apple, and disappearing beyond the sliding door.
That smile could break a man.
It had broken him long ago.
And now Miguel wanted to scream.
To break something.
Not only did he not get an answer from you, but now he was under the impression he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have by having asked you.
He stormed into his room, and paced hurriedly from one end to the other, trying to decide what to do next.
That was until your scent gripped his heightened senses again.
He glared at his bed.
Your scent lingered in the bedsheets and, as if on autopilot, he paced towards it and gripped one pillow, bringing it to his face.
The family rush of blood downwards was almost painful.
You had been in his bed, and he had lost count of the amount of times he had fantasised ravaging you in it.
He allowed his digital suit to dissolve, leaving him fully naked.
Miguel knew deep down that this was too desperate. Even for him.
But that didn’t stop him.
Instead, he got on top of the mattress, right above where you had slept, and positioned the pillow lower, until the underside of his cock was resting on the soft material.
You had left his shirt neatly folded on top of another pillow and he brought the fabric to his nose, breathing in your scent mixed with his.
His hips rolled once.
It was intoxicating, but he couldn’t stop himself from slowly dragging his cock up and down the pillow soaked in your scent, soon to become soaked in his precum.
His grunts were muffled by the fabric and he felt his fang tear through it.
He wasn’t going to last long.
This was too much.
With a few more snaps of his hips, and feeling more and more precum spill out, Miguel was a moaning mess.
How he wished you’d be right under him, taking all those thrusts deep inside, whimpering and sobbing as he filled you over and over again.
The thought of you struggling to take him for the first time was enough to push him over the edge, and more sounds of fabric being torn filled his ears.
He stilled as a guttural growl broke from his throat, strings of cum shooting out and seeping into the soft fabric below.
His breathing was still erratic by the time his fangs retracted.
Once he found the will to get up, he picked up the cum-drenched pillow and decided to throw it away.
The post-nut clarity hit him like a thousand bricks, as he cleaned up the mess, allowing his suit to cover his entire body once again.
If you weren’t going to tell him about Tom, then he knew just who to ask.
Jessica Drew.
Pulling out two orange screens in his livingroom, your file immediately coming up. He then tapped on his watch twice.
Jessica’s hologram popped up. “Morning, Miguel.”
“Busy?”
“Just headed out to brief my squad.”
“Who’s Tom?” he blurted out, positioning his wrist so that she could see your file on the screen.
“Oh.”
He scowled deeply. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”
Jess clicked her tongue. “I mean that I’m not surprised this is about her.”
“What?”
“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Miguel O’Hara,” she said with a teasing smile. “You might be able to fool others — hell, even her —, but you can’t fool me.”
That was Jessica Drew. Perceptive as always. He wasn’t all that annoyed that she could read him that well. After all, he had recruited her for a reason.
“I’m just concerned about her,” he said, admitting defeat.
“I’m sure you are,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “But maybe you should be asking her, no?”
“I did, and she pushed the topic away.”
She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know of any Tom. That name never popped up while I was scouting her.”
He felt disappointment and frustration grip him tightly, and he began scrolling through your file, wishing he could have missed something.
“Look, I may head out to her dimension later today, and see what I can find,” she offered with a sigh.
“Thank you, Jess.”
“But Miguel…?”
His crimson eyes darted to the flickering hologram. “Yes?”
“If she doesn’t want to talk about it, there may be a chance you won’t like what I find out. If I find anything, that is.”
Point taken.
He was started to accept that the truth might be an inconvenience for him.
But he had to know. The frustration of not knowing was driving him crazy.
“Just do what you have to do.”
She nodded and the hologram faded.
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The first time Miguel had been at to your place was to check up on you after almost an entire week of going without sleep.
You were stubborn. Even more than he had been in his younger days.
You’d go home, but continue working, so he had no choice but to restrict your access to the lab data from outside HQ. As expected, you weren’t happy, but finally took his advice and got some rest.
Now he was back, but for a different reason, and he could only hope things between you two hadn’t soured.
He had kept his distance throughout the rest of day, occasionally checking you through the cameras as the mic in your suit.
Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.
But he had an uneasy feeling brewing inside him, so he had to make sure.
You had promptly let him in even though it was close to midnight, slightly confused as to the reason of him dropping by.
As he stepped in, he was met with a sight he hadn’t seen the last time he had visited: there were wires spread everywhere along the floor, mixed between card boxes and paper scattered across every possible surface he could set his eyes on.
“Sorry for the mess,” you giggled apologetically. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”
Good.
But also… very workaholic of you.
You were dressed in just a shirt — seemingly wearing a bra, this time — and some sweatpants, with a pencil tucked behind your ear, as you paced in circles, glaring at your pad.
“Love what you did with the decoration,” Miguel mused, trying his best to strategically avoid stepping on anything. “Fire hazard aesthetic, is it?”
You paused to stare at him with a lighthearted chuckle. “Bingo!”
Your reaction made him feel more at ease. Perhaps he had read too much into things.
You were still acting like his sweet girl.
The table at the center had barely any room left, and he managed to find a vacant spot on a chair nearby. “May I sit?”
You were looking through a tube with five different wires running along it. “Oh… I was going to place this there.”
Miguel immediately moved away. “Right. Of course.”
Priorities of any scientist.
Flashing him your trademark grin, you moved around to rest the tube horizontally on the chair.
This place truly resembled his when he was first getting started with Nueva York. All the blueprints and planning and computers and screens.
Oddly enough, your apartment made him feel nostalgic.
“So, what’s up?” you said, before taking a sip of your water.
He ran a hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. “I wanted to apologise for earlier today.”
You blinked.
“That conversation… about Tom?”
“Oh!” you suddenly said as realisation hit you. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Miguel! It’s a non issue.”
Well. He begged to differ, actually. Whoever this Tom person was, it had already created a slight rift between you two, even if unintentionally.
And he wanted to fix that.
Miguel was a fixer.
“I just want to make sure that Tom isn’t going to become an issue. For you… or for us.”
He added that last part in an effort to compel you to talk about him, which stemmed from genuine concern. What if Tom was someone dangerous and that could put spider society at risk?
You waved your hand dismissively. “He won’t. Don’t worry.”
He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the urge to continue with the questions, but it had become clear you weren’t going to collaborate.
It didn’t matter.
He would have information on Tom soon enough, and then he’d decide whether he was an issue or not.
But then… “Are you two close?”
He mentally slapped himself for his impulse.
“Oh, yeah… I guess you could say that,” you said, dragging your finger along the screen in front of you. “But, really, there’s no point talking about it.”
But why?
So he was someone close to you… he had dreaded this possibility becoming true.
But maybe… maybe it was just some family member.
He began pacing around with arms crossed, glacing outside the window and into the night sky.
Deep down, he wanted you to know he was there for you, but he also wanted some answers.
He needed answers.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
At this, you slammed your palms on the table, a frown settling on your face. “Miguel! Drop it, please… it’s nothing.”
That was unexpected.
And so unlike you.
And it was enough to stop him in his tracks. “I’m just looking out for you.”
He was. Truly.
And for his relationship with you. A future one, hopefully.
Your features softened as your eyes met his, and he felt the sudden urge to close the gap between you two and pull you into an embrace.
But he chose to keep his distance, not wanting to seem overbearing.
“I know. I’m sorry,” you drawled out, rubbing your temples with both hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”
He shook his head at once. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’ve been too overloaded with work, which is my fault, I know,” you said, pacing nervously. “But… I just want to help.”
Miguel sighed. “And you are. You don’t need to constantly prove yourself. No one will think less of you for not figuring things out at first,” he continued, and he meant every single word. “There’s so much trial and error in our line of work. We should work hard, yes. But not to the point of exhaustion.”
You halted, glaring at him like he had just uttered something unthinkable.
Unexpectedly, you were the one to close the distance between you two with unsure steps.
Dropping both arms against his sides, Miguel watched in silence as you paced closer and closer, your face holding a hint of sadness that should be forbidden.
You should never have to feel sad.
“I know you care,” you said, you voice but a whisper. “And I’m really grateful for you.”
Miguel’s heart sped up, as you tilted your head to stare at him. “Can I hug you?”
How could he ever say no to you? He’d give you anything. Everything.
You just didn’t know that.
He was left baffled and could only nod, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressed your cheek to his chest.
For a man who was perceived as a genius and had built an entire city from the ground up, Miguel sure felt like a fish out of water. So out of his element. He hadn’t shared this level of closeness with anyone in years.
But slowly, he managed to place one hand to the back of your head while the other pulled you closer, in the hopes that you would find safety and comfort in his embrace.
“Thank you.”
A few hours ago, he was humping his pillow thinking of you, fully drunk in your scent. Now, something else filled him.
Anger.
Rage.
No… there was no doubt whoever this Tom individual was that he had left a mark on you. And he couldn’t stand seeing his sweet girl like this.
He had to find out what had happened and what he had done to his sweet girl.
He would find him and he would break him if he had to.
Your tears were wetting his suit, and he had to muster all his willpower not to bolt into your dimension in search of him.
The fingers on your back caressed you slowly, lulling you into a comfortable position.
“I’m here for you.”
He felt your arms tighten around him, and he heard a sob. “Can… can you sing something?”
“What?”
“It distracts me…”
He felt puzzled at first, but he did want to help you. “Uh… anything?”
You nodded with a sniffle.
“Okay… uh… the itsy bitsy spider craw-”
You broke into a laughter. “Seriously?”
He felt his lips turn into a warm smile, as he kept rubbing your back.
Slowly, you loosened your grip around him and tilted your head to stare at him, chin resting on his chest with a sweet smile.
It had worked.
“You have such pretty eyes,” you whispered.
On impulse, he brushed his thumb along your cheek, wiping away a few teardrops.
His eyes then fell to your lips as they parted slightly, and he brought the thumb to brush along them, enjoying the softness and how your breath came out in shallow pants.
His sweet girl…
How he really wanted to—
And then his watch stared beeping, cutting the moment short.
Of course.
You jolted and he bent his arm and glared, as spider-byte’s hologram emerged. “Boss, Jessica has found subject A on Earth-2848.”
Fuck.
You immediately tore from him, wiping away the remnants of your tears.
“My Earth? What happe-”
He quickly cut you off. “Send me the file.”
Margo glanced briefly at you. “Uploading the file, boss.”
Miguel immediately terminated contact, and the hologram dissolved. He was then met with your questioning face
“Is it an anomaly? Is everything okay?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are just tracking some unusual activity.”
He didn’t want to lie to you.
But you had left him no choice.
He had to know who Tom was.
For you.
“I’m taking care of it,” he tried to reassure again.
You didn’t seem all that convinced, but didn’t insist.
Instead, you took a few steps back, and he felt your warmth painfully leave him at once.
He could get used to it so easily.
Then, he glared down at the screen of his watch, waiting for the file to be ready.
“Hey, Miguel?”
79%
Almost there.
“Miguel?”
His gaze remained fixed. “Hmm?”
“Do you think you can unlock my suit settings?”
That made him snap his head to glare at you.
What?
You were holding your pad, extending it to him. “I’ve been getting this weird interference in my suit,” you sniffled, eyes still puffy from crying. “I wanted to troubleshoot, but it doesn’t let me access the settings.”
Of course not. He had made sure of that.
But something else began looming over him… “What kind of interference?”
You shrugged, tapping the screen. “Static, I think? I only hear it from time to time, though.”
Miguel’s heart instantly dropped, Lyla’s words of caution ringing inside his head: “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”
No, no, no…
“So… can you let me in?”
The mic.
Fuck.
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Part 5
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Masterlist
7K notes · View notes
meara-eldestofthemall · 6 months
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Gee, thanks DC! You Just Turned Bruce Into An Irredeemable Ass.
So, at the end of Gotham War Bruce has officially lost everything. Alfred is still dead, Selina is "presumed dead" and Bruce is both financially and morally broke. Why, you may ask, is Bruce so much worse off this time? Let me count the ways.
He preformed a psychic lobotomy on Jason
The "it's for your own good" excuse only makes the mental rape undertaken by Jason's own father that much more heinous.
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Just when you think Bruce can't sink any lower he does. When Dick recognizes that Bruce has lost it, he attempts to use a failsafe disconnect that Bruce himself built into the system. How does Nightwing get thanked for that? Well that brings us to number two on the list.
Batman attacks up his eldest son for doing what he's supposed to do when Batman has gone rouge.
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Bruce beats him up because nothing proves you are in control of your sanity like hitting your children. While Dick is holding back, Bruce does no such thing. He hits Nightwing hard enough to send him flying. It could have gotten even worse if Tim hadn't shown up.
Tim arrives and attempts to talk some sense into Batman.
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Tim tries to talk Bruce down. It doesn't go well. When Robin is trying to help, as he always does, Batman uses the attempt to reason with him to put the smack down on his son. Bruce could have killed Tim but apparently feels no remorse or guilt.
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If there was any teeny tiny little doubt that Bruce will not win the Father of The Year award in 2023 it died a horrible screaming death when Batman abandons his children to potential arrest. Yes, he left a batarang for Dick and Tim but any glimer of possible hope associated with that action was instantly extinguished by Damian's reaction to Batman's callous betrayal.
Bruce abandons Damian.
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Look at Dami; he's devastated. Since he came into Bruce's life, Damian has struggled with feelings that he can never earn his father's love and respect. Well, that negative self-image was reinforced in way that may never be repairable. Bruce just utterly destroyed a 13 year old child because of his inability to feel any kind of empathy.
And how does this all end? The best part is that Bruce takes all of his parental responsibilities and dumps them onto Dick.
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Thank you Chip Zdarsky and Trini Howard. You've taken Batman from being an edgy anti-hero and made him into a callous monster. Part of me hopes that Bruce never comes back because he doesn't deserve his family.
The only positive aspect in this convoluted mess is that Damian and Tim will be far better off with Dick than with Bruce. Yes, Tim is mostly independent but he still needs guidance (particularly since Tim's first instinct is to try and save Bruce). Damian is essentially Dick's son emotionally anyway so this might help to sustain the positive character growth we've seen in him as of late.
The point of this rant is to wonder what on earth DC thinks they're doing. This story arc has been pure character destruction as far as Bruce is concerned. It's bad storytelling too; rushed, frenetic and massively disappointing.
Hasn't the popularity of Good Dad Bruce in Wayne Family Adventures proved that fans are tired of Bruce being a dark depressed and brooding edge lord? We all accept that Batman is a character with deeeeep issues who is in desperate need of therapy. I, however, draw the line at Bruce being an abusive a**hole.
In years to come when fans wonder when Batman jumped the shark, this is the plot line they'll point to.
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raggedyflowers · 4 months
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“Wrap me like a Christmas gift” 🎁
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summary: op men reacting at you being… their christmas gif ?? you wrapped in a red ribbon ??? that’s it, that’s the post
character: Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Law x female reader
cw: 🔞 smut and fluff. oral sex (male and female receiving), penetrative sex — very misuse of ribbon 🎀
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Zoro:
the strawhats decided to exchange the Christmas gifts on the desk of the Sunny
you were so happy unwrapping all your present, but even happier when you saw the reaction of your friends when they opened the gifs you made to them
only one persone was left without a gift from you
“Gonna give my gift for you later” you winked at Zoro
“Hope it’s gonna be the biggest bottle of sake” Zoro rolled his eyes
Later when you two were left alone, you smirked to him. “Wanna unwrap your gift now?”
He looked disinterested, but when you lose the knot of your dress and let him saw what you got under it…
or maybe… what you didn’t wear under them
only a red ribbon placed between your breast and a smile on your face
Zoro maybe did lose the capacity of speak
“Woman you’re gonna kill me” he shook his head walking toward you
“Before you die, don’t you wanna enjoy your gift?”
he did enjoyed your gift — all night long
“I — I can’t take it anymore” you mourned after the first two orgasms.
“I though you were my gift” he said to you, lifting his fece buried in your pussy. “Be a good girl and gimme another one on my tongue and then I maybe give you my cock — thing of it as my gift”
the bastard smirked before returning to licking your cunt enjoying his gift
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Sanji:
almost everyone was already gone to bed
Sanji was left behind, cleaning the kitchen
“Pretty boy” you called him. “Do you wanna sneak a look at my gift?”
“Of course, love” he said. “Just let me finish here”
“But it’s getting cold” you whined
only in that moment Sanji turned back to your and his face reddened on the spot
He also got a nosebleed
“Y/n, love” he cried
you could only smirk at him, naked but for a apron and a red ribbon between your hair
“Is this your gift?”
“Only for you, pretty”
He walked near to you, kissing with passion and immediately slipping his tongue on your mouth
his hand traveled on your body, brushing against your nipples and making your shivering
“All of this just for me” he whispered to your ear “Am I the luckiest man alive?”
there wasn’t any doubts Sanji would’ve loved your gift
and he proved to you when he bended you on the kitchen table and fucked you against it
“So good for me” he said, voice filler with arousal. “My pretty girl giving me the best gift”
“Yes — yes, only for you” you repeated the mind fuzzy.
He kept pounding you from behind with a fast pace while keeping whispering loving nothings into your heard
“Too bad my gift for your was the same”
“Too bad — we should repeat this on our room”
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Ace:
“Hey Hotshot, what gift do you want for Christmas?”
so, your boyfriend was the best… but he wasn’t really helpful in those situations
“I only want you” he said, kissing the top of your head
… really sweet, but you needed something more.
but then and idea come into your head
“Hotshot” you called him some nights later, when everybody was already sleeping after unwrapping their christmas present. “I actually have a gift for you”
Ace looked at you with curious eyes and a beautiful smile on his face
“Did you?” he asked exited
“Yes, but you have to take this off” you smirked pointing at your red and white dress
Ace was taken aback, but then smirked back at your and started to unbuttoning your dress
When he found the red ribbon wrapped around you where your underwear was supposed to be, you felt his hand become even more hotter then usual
“You said you only wanted me as a gift”
“Not what I meant — but so much better”
Maybe he didn’t asked for anything, but your gift was so much better of what he could’ve ever think
“Come on Babydoll, keep going” he said with his hands tightening on your hips while you rode his cock
“Ace ~ ” you moaned with shaking legs. “Can’t you just fuck me already?”
“I thought this was my gift” he said cupping both of your breast with his hands and playing with your nipples
“Okay Hotshot, enjoy this. But after that you’re gonna eat me”
“At your orders, Babydoll”
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Law:
Law problem was that he couldn’t tell you what he wanted for dear life — especially in your newfound relationship
you could only try to guess what his desires were
and finding a gift for him had become an impossible mission
maybe what you planned was mundane, but it was the only thing you could’ve thought
“Traffy ~” you called him for the thousand time. “Come to bed already?”
“Just one minute, y/n-ya” he said to you for the tenth time
“If you come now, I’m gonna give you your gift early” you tried to convince him
“You bought me a present?” he asked you, lifting his face from his book for the first time
“Well” you smirked to him. “There is a red ribbon attacked to it… but the ribbon happened to be down there”
When you pointed at yourself his face blushed, even if he tried to hide it under his hat
“I thought it was a gift you wanted to unwrap in private”
He did unwrapped his gift in private, in your shared room, enjoying every second of it
“Traffy — Law, please” you begging him, crying on his fingers insieme of you.
“My baby is so impatient, even if it was my gift”
“Sorry Traffy, I want — want ” you sobbed when his fingers curled inside of you hitting your g spot.
“Tell me, baby, what do you want?”
“You” you moaned. “I want you”
“Where do you want me?” he lowered toward you, kissing you more sweetly compared to his rude movements.
“Inside” you could only say on his lips before kissing him with so much force and desperation.
“Alright” he said. “But you’re being a little selfish, it’s still my gift after all... will you let me fuck you all I want tonight?”
“Yes — fuck, yes. Use me all you want” you said back, only wanting his dick inside you and his lips on your body
“Always so good with me” he caressed his cheek. “Now let me hear how pretty you scream my name”.
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flowershines · 3 months
Text
viagra?
Summary: they accidentally take viagra thinking it was ibuprofen so now they are horny and still in pain. (legal line)
Warnings: Smut, viagra, pills, pain, boner, teasing, public boners (lmk if i missed any)
Not proof read
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Heeseung:
Walking into the dorms he came home from practice with a pounding headache that just wouldn’t go away no matter how much water he drank or how many times he tried to ignore it, it just kept getting worse and worse by the minute. “Baby where is the ibuprofen?” He asked looking towards the couch to where you were laying while looking at your phone, “On the shelf next to the other bottle.” you said as you pointed to the bottles on the shelf in front of him. He grabbed the bottle took 2 pills out got himself a glass of water and walked over to you as he took them, while he laid next to you as he just waited for the medicine to kick in hoping the pain would go away soon enough. Over time while he was watching his phone he started to feel a different type of pain, he moved his phone to the side a saw he was painfully hard in his pants as it was uncomfortably twitching as his cock ached for attention. You heard him squirming next to you picked your head up “Are you o-” following his eyes you saw the situation he was in, “Random boner?” he turned to you “I don’t think so usually I still think about sex when I get a boner.” then it clicked in your brain that there were was a bottle of viagra next to the pills on the counter. “Oh shit.” You told him as you picked up the bottle and showed it to him, “That was viagra, Y/n I took 2.” he exclaimed as his eyes scanned the bottle in his hands. “Please help me.” You stood up and got the actual bottle of ibuprofen and handed two pills to him “I will just take these first.” you said as you placed them in his hand. “Thanks baby.”
Jay:
Laying in his bed his ankle would not stop aching and throbbing, during practice he was doing the choreography for Still Monster and twisted his ankle in all the wrong ways. “Princess can you please get me some ibuprofen for me please.” he asked as he leaned upwards so that way he was looking directly at you, you nodded to him as you left his room headed to the counters and grabbed the bottle of pills along with a bottle of water. Walking back into the room you handed him both things as you got into bed with him and laid down as you snuggled into his chest, his eyes started to struggle to stay awake he turned to his side table then noticed the bottle and how the labeling didn’t look how it normally does. Reaching his arm out he twisted the bottle to the front as it read in big bold letters ‘viagra’ he turned to you, you had no idea you looked down at your phone watching Tiktok’s of your boyfriend at his most recent concert. “Princess?” You lifted your head up to look at him as you smiled from ear to ear being unaware of everything that was running through his head, he held up the bottle and showed you what it said causing you to instantly shoot up from your spot and immediately start apologizing to him. “I’m so sorry please don’t be mad, I didn’t know. The bottles look so simila-” he cut you off as he pulled you into a kiss to shut you up, he pulled away and didn’t say anything but just looked into your eyes for a minute before saying “It’s okay, i’m not mad. Just can you help me out when I do get hard, and please get me the actual right bottle of ibuprofen?” you instantly nodded and shot up and out of the bed booking it to the kitchen as you grabbed the other bottle then handed it to him.
Jake:
His back has been killing him for the past week and all that everyone has told him was ‘take some pain meds’, ‘go get some sleep’ or ‘take some time to relax’ but nothing was working no matter how many hours he spent relaxing or how many’s days went by that he would take medication. Nothing. Rolling over as he turned to you on the bed he whined as he kissed you on the forehead “Feeling any better?” you asked as you looked up at him while you hugged his chest he responded as he shook his head then mumbled something into hair as he hugged you tighter, “Want me to get you anything?” you asked as you slowly backed away from his hug he whined from the loss of your body on his. “Medicine please.” Nodding you got up from your spot and started headed to the kitchen as you heard a faint, “Thank you gorgeous.” looking for the bottle you were not aware that there was a bottle that was filled with viagra but had them in a ibuprofen container to hid them from the members. Looking at the bottle you saw the back of the bottle that contained the ingredients seeing ‘ibuprofen’ on the label you thought you were in the clear and bring the bottle with you to the room, you handed him the bottle as he took two pills out and placed them on his tongue, swallowing them then proceeded to fall asleep as he waited for them to sink in. His eyes slowly opened as he saw you sleeping figure on him while his cock twitched against your upper thigh, he shook your arm as he slowly started to wake you up out of your deep sleep “Please help.” he asked desperately looking down as his cock throbbing against his sweats.
Sunghoon:
Walking into the dorm and heading straight to his room for some medicine his wrist started to feel worse the more seconds passed by, you were on the couch as you waited for your boyfriend to watch a movie with him. You started to scroll through the movies displayed on the screen then once you find a movie you think is good you would shout out the movie name which he would respond saying that he was okay watching it or he wasn’t, but every one you liked he said he wasn’t in the mood to watch. So you just figured you would wait for him to come back and have him scroll through and see what movie he would want to watch, he started rummaging through his drawer that was right next to his bed as he saw the bottle of pills on his side table he picked up the bottle then places the pills in his mouth. His water was already on the side table next to it he walked into the living room with the glass of water in his hand that was not in aching pain, he finishes the glass of water that was in his hand and puts the empty cup in the sink as he walked over to sit next to you. Finally being able to lay down he placed his head on your lap while you handed him the remote so that way he can pick the movie, minutes passes by as he scrolled through the channel, the water started to sink into him as the ache to use the bathroom hit his abdomen. Placing the remote on your thigh he sat up and headed towards the bathroom then locking the door behind him, starting to undo his belt he looked down and noticed an insanely hard bulge aching against his jeans. He left the bathroom with his belt unbuckled walked up to you and stood in front of the screen as he made your attention turn to him, you looked at him confused as he started walking towards you while placing a kiss on your lips. Pushing onto the couch below you he started to thrust his hips up into you and said “Help me out pretty, I think i accidentally took the viagra.”
Sunoo:
“Can you hand me my water please.” he asked as he walked over to you during his and the members water break, you handed it to him while Heeseung walked over to both of you and started a conversation talking about how he can’t wait to go home and sleep because his feet hurt. “My legs are throbbing they hurt so bad.” Sunoo said as he rubbed the back of his calf’s “I have ibuprofen if you want it.” Heeseung offered as he pointed to his bag with his thumb, Sunoo nodded. “Please.” Looking over you saw Heeseung rummaging through his bag just before he took out a bottle, opening it then walking over to you guys as he took the pills out from the bottle and placed them on your boyfriend’s hand. “Thanks.” He said as he swallowed the pills with the water in his hand, Heeseung nodded as he placed the container on the side next to you. The choreographer called them back over to start teaching them the next part of the dance causing most of them to silently groan from constantly working hours after hours, the members were tired and so drained so it slowed their dancing down. The choreographer said how they needed to pay attention more, you placed your phone down next to the bottle of pills that Heeseung brought over. Hearing your ringtone you went to go pick up your phone but looked at the bottle as your attention was immediately focused on the label saying ‘viagra’ then it’s ingredients, you head shot up looking at your boyfriend as his face displayed a clear emotion of anticipation. “May I use the bathroom?” He asked the teacher as she nodded to him, his pace was fast and steady he walked over to you and grabbed your wrist pulling you to the bathrooms with him. Locking the door behind him he said “Heeseung told me that they were the wrong pills.” he said looking down to his pants as his bulge was clearly visible, looking up back into his eyes he brought his hand over his pants starting to slowly rub himself over his sweatpants. “Please?”
Jungwon:
Laying in the living room with the members you watched from afar as your boyfriend played a video game with Niki as they competed against each other, as the more members came in the less space their was on the couch. Jungwon pulled you onto his lap to make more room for his hyung, “Jake- hyung can you get me some ibuprofen?” your boyfriend asked from behind you as you turned to face him “You okay?” you asked as you rested your head on his shoulder. “Yeah just my stomach.” Lifting your head to look at him “Nauseous?” he shook his head “Just hurts, i’m okay though.” kissing your forehead he turns to you and kisses your lips then returned his gaze to the tv in front of him. “Which one is the ibuprofen?” Jake asks from the kitchen causing Jay to yell back “It’s the one in the white bottle.” a faint ‘ok’ was heard then followed by the sound of water being poured. Jake walked back into the living room and handed you the things for Jungwon as he didn’t have any free hands to hold anything with, pausing the game you turned to him and gave him the pills and water. Niki hit playin the game as Jungwon handed you back the cup, your boyfriend was tense from Niki beating him and overtime hasn’t even noticed himself getting hard not until he felt a pain start to form from his aching cock. He lifted up his head as you turned your around looking back at him as he now knows that you know, he huffed out air as the pain he was in just wasn’t going away no matter what he would do. As the round came to an end he gave Sunghoon the controller “Play for me, i’ll be back.” he said as he grabbed your hand and lead you into the bedroom. Shutting the door behind you he was cut off “Can you h-” you nodded onto his lips as you pulled him into a deep passionate kiss as you gripped his hard dick through his pants.
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tapakah0 · 5 months
Note
Okay! I don't know where you got the idea from and my best guess is that your brain is connected to mine via bluetooth but.
Me and Hoddie have a royal au and your animation made me think of it again.
Nothing crazy special, but...ah...I should probably give a little context yeah...hmm.
Uh, okay. There's a kingdom. whose king and queen have died, leaving behind several possible heirs who are not their direct children. Right now, the king's first general is sitting on the throne, because the power of the army is, you know, a pretty powerful argument in a fight for the throne, right? This creepy regent is Cass. And Cass came to power thanks to Hoddie, who's basically the king's heir too, but she's pretty distant and her chances of the throne are quite slim. This has made her a professional rat and back stabber. The whole palace is busy weaving intrigue and destroying each other in a competition for power. Contests in cunning and sneakiness. A maximally intellectually uncomfortable environment in general.
Until Hoddie finds the true heiress. The king's blood daughter, to whom the throne should rightfully belong.
Problem? The problem is that the heiress needs to be two years older to be old enough to rule. And Hoddie and Cass' goal is to make sure she lives to that age in an environment where every other person wants to frame or kill her.
That heiress is you, Tap. But we couldn't think of what you'd look like in this au ahaha.
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MHHMMM I SEE ONCE IN A WHILE BRAIN BLUETOOTH IS A GOOD THING you left me a window for my part and I grabbed this opportunity with sharp teeth Since there was no mention of my part, I have the audacity to add my own version. Did I understand correctly that my existence as an heiress was not known? It would be strange if the king was not looking for me, if I was the only heir (by blood), which means they were hoping for a new child, or already had plans for an indirect heir, or wanted to hide me. What other power is there, besides the king and the army, that holds the common people? Church. The king could have sent me to be trained as a priestess in order to gain support from them (either I was not considered worthy of receiving the throne in the future, which is why they preferred to hide me, or the king so badly needed their support that he was ready to sacrifice his only blood daughter) . Thus, from a young age, the beauty of a non-existent world somewhere beyond the heavens was drummed into my head and, in general, “God speaks all our actions.” I have an inconspicuous appearance, a position above a simple servant, but such priests are usually considered to be the daughters of high nobles, but not the king himself, which is why not everyone could know who I really was. Thus, they forgot about my existence ~ After the death of the king and all the heirs, the church quickly realized what to do next, and crushed me to itself, hiding me from the world until I reached the age of succession to the throne. (But children could take the throne under a regent. Could Hoodi become my regent as one of the older contenders for the throne?) So, back to the turmoil. Hoodie found me at church. Since childhood, my worldview could have changed greatly under the influence of the church, so, well, you will have to hammer a lot into my head, in addition to the throne’s education (You know... it's bit complicated to make a human sona not as a stupid little ball XDD... it literally can't get a shape at this point... maybe you will place a real bunny as the new king? It will be eating cabbage 24/7 and everyone will be happy)
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coralinnii · 3 months
Note
Hi! How's it going?
Can I please request Leona, Riddle, Cater and Ace reacting to the reader wearing someone else's jacket?
‧₊˚✧New Jacket, Who Dis? ‧₊˚✧
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↳ forgetting your jacket and wearing someone else’s  
feat: Leona ❋ Riddle ❋ Cater ❋ Ace genre: humor, fluff note: no pronouns used for reader, reader is implied to be smaller than Floyd, nicknames used for reader (cutie, babe, baby), established relationships, reader is implied to be from Ramshackle,
I swear I will get these requests completed even if it kills me. Damn my tendency to go into hibernation during winter! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the reading ^///^
Part 1 2.7k followers writing event
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Leona has jackets? 
I mean, you were sure Leona owns a plethora of high-end jackets and outerwear of the finest fabrics but be it a preference or perhaps too much of an effort, you rarely see the beastman wear anything other than a shirt and at best a dorm-mandated vest.
So, when you feel a chill down your spine on your way to class, the idea of asking your boyfriend for a jacket did not cross your mind. Can’t ask for what you’ve never seen.
A classmate of yours saw your pitiful form and offered you his school blazer. Something better than nothing, he thought. 
Grateful, you were quick to take up his kind offer and practically snuggled your face into it for warmth. Now in a better mood, you got through the first half of the day and quickly made your way to the greenhouse where you suspect a certain lion beastman is hiding. 
But it seems that said beastman wasn’t in high spirits as you were when with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, he raised his palm towards you signaling you to step no closer to him. 
An unfamiliar scent unpleasantly wafted through Leona’s territory, and to his annoyance, you appeared to be the source of it. 
No, not you…That wretched jacket.
Leona doesn’t have to ask. He can surmise the situation on his own, the weather was chilly, you being stupid enough to leave without something cozy, and some brave or stupid herbivore handing you something with his scent even though you were the partner of a beastman. Though irritating, logically this was not something surprising… but he doesn’t have to like it regardless. 
And he doesn’t. 
Pointing towards you, he further narrowed his gaze on the jacket that has tainted you with its irritating stench of another man. “Oi, take it off.” 
Though confused, you did as he said (lest you want him even grumpier, you thought) and placed your friend’s jacket onto Leona’s outstretched hand. 
Suddenly and without warning, the dark-haired upperclassman harshly tossed the fabric to a random direction, with such feelings of disgust and annoyance radiating off from Leona, you would think the jacket spat in his meal or something. 
But no matter how many times you tried to ask for his reasons or how many times you begged him to let you go after pulling you into his arms so you could retrieve the abandoned jacket, Leona said nothing as he kept his grip strong around you as he fell asleep once more, lulled by your unobstructed scent. 
“Ruggie can grab my jacket for you so quit harping about it…You feel bad for Ruggie for the trouble? Tch, who’s fault you think that is?”
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Riddle’s appearance is perfect to a T. From his bow tie to his socks, the Heartslabyul housewarden chooses his attire to what is required; nothing is missing and nothing in excess. 
Basically, he wouldn’t have a spare jacket nor can he part away from the required blazer of his school uniform despite how he honestly wanted to. 
You understood his hesitance completely and didn’t probe further. Unfortunately, it left you noticeably shivering, and Floyd just had to mention your shivering form akin to a jittery guppy. Learning your predicament, the tall mischief-maker had a fun idea. 
Which led to you finally leaving the classroom after Floyd finished his giggling fit seeing you looking practically devoured by his jacket. Floyd is a tall eel merman so the length of the sleeves and hem were certainly longer than an average uniform. 
“Go ahead and wear it, just give it back later.” The sophomore graciously lent his jacket to you, but you suspected that he just wanted to prolong the humiliation.
At least you were grateful he wasn’t there to laugh at you when Riddle saw you in this mortifying position. The taller student would have probably coughed up his human lungs from laughing at your boyfriend's stunned expression. 
“I…What is…” Riddle was dumbfounded. The sight of his beloved being swallowed by a jacket was not something he suspected. It is an amusing image to see, but definitely odd. 
What’s the procedure for this? This was hardly appropriate school attire, but Riddle was stumped as to what to do next since he can’t think of a rule that addresses your lover being dressed in someone else’s jacket in a comical fashion. 
Despite unable to complete his prior sentence, you knew what Riddle wanted to know. “…It’s Floyd’s. He thought it’d be funny.” 
There was a burning sensation bubbling in Riddle when he thought about the Octavinelle rascal, how close and unnecessarily clingy he probably was to you as he took glee in his nonsensical pranks. Then, an unpleasant thought sat in the redhead’s mind as he watched you roll up the sleeves of Floyd’s jacket draped over your form. That eel gave you his jacket while Riddle, your boyfriend, didn’t.
"I supposed I should have expected this, given my choice."
Riddle let out a sigh before extending a hand to you, his face flushing a familiar red hue. “It may be redundant, but perhaps I could offer my own jacket? A warmer one at least, I wouldn’t want you to needlessly catch a cold.” 
Happily, you took the sweet redhead’s offer. Walking together hand-in-hand, Riddle thought he could spare you a scolding about forgetting your jacket in the first place, so long as you rectify his mood by wearing his jacket instead. 
“As your boyfriend it should be my duty to protect and care for you, no one else’s.”
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Cater would have no problem with sharing his jacket with you, if he can take some cute pictures of course. His wardrobe has a mixture of trendy and cool clothing due to his time at the Pop Music Club. It wasn't a matter of what he could offer but rather his time to even give this offer.
It was today of all days that he couldn’t find time to himself since there were some last-minute preparations needed for the Unbirthday party. You felt too guilty and nervous to suddenly ask your boyfriend for a jacket in all this commotion, so you tried to handle the cold without one. 
However, a classmate of yours was observant enough to notice your predicament and handed his jacket for the time being. 
You’ve stuck around the Unbirthday party, waiting for the festivities to settle and relax before scanning through the crowd to find the man with a beautiful shade of orange hair. 
But your boyfriend was quicker to find you as he surprised you first, covering your eyes from behind. “Guess who, cutie~?” 
Laughing, you didn’t bother to answer as you immediately spun around to leap straight into Cater’s arms, to which Cater happily returned in kind. 
“Looks like you got yourself some new threads. Almost couldn’t find you, cutie.” Referring to your newly acquired jacket, Cater could see the Heartslabyul emblem sewed onto its sleeve. Raising a quizzical brow, Cater questioned you, “Did you get it from the Adeuce duo?” 
His guess was wrong though as you told him a classmate of yours offered you his jacket, pointing him in the distance with his friends. Well now, that’s interesting. If it were one of his or your friends, that’s fine and dandy…but a random classmate…
Cater genuinely appreciated that his little underclassmen are chivalrous enough to help their fellow peers, but he admits that it’s a little different when it involves you. You’re special to him after all and he gotta make sure only he gets to give you the best boyfie treatment. 
With a smile on his face, Cater gently coaxed you out from the jacket before walking towards the oblivious student. “Let’s give him back his jacket, then we can head over to my room. I’ve got the perfect jacket for you to try out ♪”
“My cutie looks so ‘cammable in my jacket! This is definitely going on Magicam ♪ Oh, should we get matching couple outfits~?"
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“Are you ever gonna stop sulking and tell me what’s wrong, Ace?”
“...” 
It doesn’t matter how long you two were dating, Ace would tease you so much if you ask for his jacket, it’s almost not worth it. You could already hear the redhead’s cheeky voice in your head. “Aww, is my baby feeling cold? Do you need your amazing boyfriend to warm you up?” 
Feeling a little petty and not in the mood for his teasing, you instead asked Deuce if he could spare his extra jacket for you. To your luck, he had his track team jacket on hand that he could offer to you. 
Warm and cozy, you met up with Ace who, upon seeing you, unceremoniously draped himself over you as he let out a deep sigh. “Ahh, I was so cold today. Thank Sevens you’re so warm.” 
Rolling your eyes affectionately, you wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back soothingly. Glad you didn’t ask for his jacket, then. 
But as Ace shifted around in your arms, he looked over your jacket from his angle and felt a sneaking suspicion that he had seen it before…but not on you. “Hey babe, where’d you get the jacket from?” 
“Oh, it’s Deuce’s track team jacket. I borrowed it ‘cuz I forgot mine back at Ramshackle.” 
Which led to this predicament in Ace’s room, with the pouty freshman giving you the cold shoulder. Granted, it’s rather cute to see your boyfriend react so childishly over a jacket, but you’d preferred some cuddles right about now. 
But Ace kept on with his act. It may seem like an overreaction but to Ace, knowing that you asked for Deuce instead of him first left a sour taste in his mouth and a blow to his ego. He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, ain’t he? 
You sighed, having no choice but to “right your wrong”, then. 
Crawling to where your lover was, you leaned into the crook of his neck as your arms circled his waist. “Don’t be mad, I’m so cold and I need my strong, handsome boyfriend to warm me up with hugs~ Aaacceee…” 
Still met with silence, you upped the ante and started to press small pecks against his neck where you felt were getting hot and bumpy from your touch. Hiding your satisfied smile, you continued your onslaught of praises and coos. 
Damn you and your cuteness, he thought. Breaking his cold facade, Ace groaned in frustration as he pulled you into his arms, giving into the cuddles you wanted. 
“If you need something, you’d better be thinking of me first before anyone else, especially Deuce. Have some faith in your boyfriend here.”
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mistiell · 1 year
Text
Let me put my Lips to Something
Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader
Summary: After learning about his aversion to touch, you tone down the physical affection. Spencer finds himself missing your touch, and after weeks of yearning, he’s had enough. He decides it’s time to fix this.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Fluff, it gets pretty steamy towards the end but nothing graphic so I don't think this needs age restricting lmao
A/N: Part 2 to “I’m Starvin’, Darlin’”. The feedback on the last part motivated me to finish this in like, a single sitting lmao. Hope y’all enjoy! :)
P.S. My requests are open so if you wanna send something in for Spence, I'll do my best to get to it quickly!
Part 1 - Current - Part 3
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Spencer hadn’t realised how much he wanted — how much he needed — your touch until you stopped. Where there was once that warm, tingly anticipation whenever he made you laugh, there‘s now a strange absence left in its wake. Where there used to have been a bump or a squeeze, there are awkward smiles and nervous glances. Like a line of dialogue without end quotations, left to hang in the balance while the author considers what should be said next.
It’s killing him.
He’s come to realise that this want extends beyond the bounds of anything that could ever be considered platonic. He wants more than your touch. He wants you.
He craves you, finds himself remembering the way your arms felt around him the last time you hugged him. Finds himself fantasising about how it would feel to be the one to take you in his arms. How it would feel to be the one to hold you; to cradle your face between his palms and lose himself in your kiss; to let go of his inhibitions and drown himself in the depths of your affections.
He wants your time and energy. He wants your attention and praise. He wants to be the one to make you smile and laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He wants to be yours, and he wants everyone to know it.
It’s only been three weeks since that night at the bar, but even so, he feels like if he doesn’t figure out how to tell you how he feels, he might very well lose his mind. You’re right across from him all day, five days a week. It’s torture. Perhaps he’s being dramatic, but at this point, he’s well beyond caring.
The problem is, how on earth is he supposed to go about confessing to you? He’s never been suave or charismatic. He’s awkward and dorky and breaks a sweat every time anyone even remotely attractive looks his way. He’s never felt this intensely about anyone before, never desired anyone this way before. Sometimes, late at night when he’s finally tucked himself into bed, he attempts to calculate the probability of you ever wanting him in the way he wants you.
In his pessimistic mind, that number is despairingly low.
“Spence?” He startles at the sound of your voice, snapping his head up to look at you.
You’ve worn a different lipstick today. It’s a little darker than your usual colour, a rather glossy, rosier shade of mauve. He thinks he’s seen it somewhere before, and the name pops up from somewhere in his memory.
“Rum raisin.” He mumbles, staring intently at your lips and wondering briefly if it would transfer if he kissed you.
“What?” You cock your head at him with an amused sort of confusion.
He blinks once before clearly his throat, “Oh, um, your lipstick.”
You raise your hand so your fingertips hover over your bottom lip as you smile at him, “How’d you know?”
“I saw it in a drugstore once.”
You chuckle and shake your head, “Your memory never ceases to amaze me, Spence.”
His heart swells as he smiles sheepishly, “Thanks.”
You hum before gesturing to two big boxes of files that are sitting on your desk, “Could you help me run these down to records?”
“Oh, yeah.” He’s quick to cross the short distance to your desk and purposely picks the heavier of the two boxes.
The trip down to records is a rather tedious one as of today. The elevator is out of order so you have to take the stairs from the sixth floor to the third.
“Do you like rain?” You ask, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re looking out water speckled windows at the stormy street below.
“Yeah.” He leaves out the part that the possibility of power outages and the darkness that accompanies them unnerves him greatly.
You turn your head to smile at him as you reach the records room, “Me too.”
He opens the door for you before you have the chance and lets you go in first, letting the door shut behind him. He follows you into the room, weaving between shelves and stepping over boxes that have yet to find their places. He watches you skim over the yellowed labels, your lips twitching as you read them off in your head.
You find the spot you’re looking for and make a sound of satisfaction before bending at the waist to slide the box into place, your skirt sliding a little further up to press against the plush flesh of the backs of your thighs. His gaze wanders up the length of your body and stops at your chest. From this angle, he’s able to see the curve of your breast and he swallows hard. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shakes his head, feeling ashamed for ogling you like that.
Behind the darkness of his eyelids, he sees the lights flicker and when he opens them, he finds he’s not able to see much more than when he had them closed.
Shit.
“Damnit, the power’s out.” You curse, taking the box from him and slotting it in next to the other.
He takes a deep breath. The dark isn’t as frightening with you there in front of him, but that familiar anxiety pricks his chest and settles heavy in his gut.
“Spence?”
He wonders when the emergency lights will come on. Maybe they’re already on in the hall. He feels along the wall and shuffles back over to the door. When he tries the knob, he finds it locked. Now he’s panicking a little.
Well, maybe a lot.
There’s a clap of thunder outside that’s so powerful that he feels it in his chest and he jumps, breath catching in his chest as he screws his eyes shut as if it’ll make a difference.
“Spence?” You call again softly, “Are you okay?
“Y-Yeah.” He stutters.
“You don’t like storms?”
He shakes his head before realising you can’t see him, “No, not really.”
“Me neither.” You whisper, and he hears the shuffling of your clothes as you shift your weight between your feet and huff a breathy puff of nervous laughter, “I don’t like the dark either.”
“Me neither.” He echoes, wetting his lips briefly as he considers how to comfort you despite how anxious he is himself.
Carefully, tentatively, he reaches for you in the dark and takes your hand, just barely brushing his thumb over your knuckles. Your skin is soft and warm, and he attempts to find your face in the dark as he murmurs ever so softly, “Is this okay?”
“Yeah.” You reply just as softly, squeezing his hand.
It’s a little unsettling not being able to see you. He can hear you breathing, and having your hand in his feels so nice, but he wants you closer.
“Can I…” He trails off, but tugs at your hand so you’ll step a little closer. He swallows his nerves, “Can I distract you?”
It’s a lame excuse, but it’s all he can come up with on the spot.
“Distract me how?” He can hear the smile in your voice and it encourages his steadily growing confidence.
He pulls you closer, and you step further into his space. He places a hand on your waist, and you don’t recoil. In fact, you come a little closer and set a hand on his chest. You slide it along the length of his shoulder and up the back of his neck to thread your fingers in the hairs at the base of his skull and he shudders, lips parting to sigh softly. Your thumb settles just behind his ear and strokes the skin there tenderly and he can’t stop himself from leaning down to gently bump your nose with his, giving you plenty of time to pull away, to tell him you don’t want this.
“Can I kiss you?” You ask so innocently, breath fanning over his lips in a steady rhythm as his eyelids flutter shut.
“Please.” He breathes, leaning in to meet you halfway.
Your lips meet his timidly and his heart stutters in his chest. There’s a second where you pull back to let him breathe, let him get used to the feeling. His eyes open a sliver, just enough to make out the edges of you in the dark as his brain catches up with his body. And then the shock passes.
And he devours you.
The hand that was on your waist comes up to cradle your cheek as he brushes his tongue against your bottom lip in a silent request. You grant it, opening up to him to let him roll his tongue against yours. You stand on your tiptoes and lean further into him, returning the kiss with a fervour he wasn’t expecting but welcomes happily. He can taste your lipstick and is pleasantly surprised to find it tastes a little like vanilla.
There’s a push and pull of tongues and teeth and soft little sighs as he dares to slip his hands down and pull you flush against him by your hips, revelling in the breathy moan that slips from your throat and meets his mouth. He pulls away only to kiss sloppily at the corner of your mouth and down your jaw. He nips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, smiling against your skin when you gasp and tug at his hair. Mouthing at your skin, he searches until you whine and shudder after he drags his teeth over a particular spot and focuses his attention there.
He sucks a nice bruise into the spot, some primal part of him driving him to mark you up and claim you as his while he has you here. He bites a little too hard and you hiss, making him pull back and search for your face in the dark.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“Mm-mm.” You hum before immediately capturing his lips again, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing the moan that escapes him.
He guides you by your hips until he has you pressed against the door, sliding a hand down the length of your thigh before slipping it up past the hem of your skirt to grab greedily at your flesh. He hikes your leg up by his hip and you hook your knee around it to pull him impossibly close.
His touch is tender even as he practically swallows you whole, thumb stroking the side of your thigh where your skirt has ridden up. He rolls his hips up against your experimentally and you whine, urging him to do it again. This is what he’s wanted — craved — for so long. You’re warm and soft in ways that his imagination could have never replicated. He’s dizzy, drunk on your kiss, on your touch, on you.
He’s attached himself to your neck again — the other side this time — when the lights flicker on, startling you both into looking up at the ceiling.
The room is filled with nothing but the sound of your combined laboured breathing, and when he looks back at you, he finds your face flushed and your lipstick smudged. You look back at him and he notices your pupils are blown wide as you suddenly smile and start giggling.
“What?” He chuckles, letting go of your thigh so that you can stand on your own two feet again.
“Rum raisin looks good on you, doctor.” You laugh, thumbing the remnants of your kisses off of his bottom lip.
He kisses you once again, smiling against your lips.
You tug him back and laugh again, “You’re making it worse!”
He does it again, and again, and then peppers kisses over the side of your neck until you’re giggling something awful and have to scrunch your shoulder to your ear to keep him from tickling you.
“Spencer!” You squeak as quietly as you can and he pulls away laughing.
Your giggles die down, and then you’re both left in a silence that isn’t awkward, but isn’t quite comfortable either. He has to say something, but what?
“Hey, would you, um,” You start, glancing down at his lips and biting at yours nervously, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? Just us?”
He blinks, wanting to pinch himself to make sure this is actually happening, “Like, a date?”
You nod. He blinks again before practically beaming at you.
“Yeah.” He nods, attempting to correct the smudged edge of your lipstick with his thumb, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”
“Saturday? Five o’ clock? We can do whatever you want.”
He nods again, “Sounds good.”
“Good.” You smile, leaning up to kiss him, your touch so saccharine and gentle that his legs feel like jello beneath him.
The doorknob jiggles suddenly and he instinctively reaches to help you button up your blouse a little more while you fiddle with the collar until it covers the rather obvious hickey on your neck.
“Hey, are you two still in there?” Derek calls from the other side as you attempt to help Spencer fix his hair to no avail.
“Uh, yeah!” He calls, clearing his throat after his voice cracks up an octave, “We accidentally locked ourselves in.”
“Here.” You bend to slide the key under the door, and this time, he stares unabashedly, “That’s the key.”
The knob jiggles a little more before the door opens, and when it does, Derek eyes the two of you suspiciously, “You guys okay?” He locks eyes with Spencer and smirks, “You seem a little winded.”
“Yeah, we’re okay.” You smile, hastily walking out, “The boxes were just heavy. Plus, we had to walk all the way down here.”
“Yeah, okay.” Derek says, though it’s clear he isn't convinced. When you get a little further ahead of them, he claps Spencer on the back with a bright grin, “About time, loverboy!”
“Shut up.” Spencer shoots back, though he can’t help the smile that creeps up on his face.
This is not how he expected his confession to go, but — as he watches you walk down the hall a little ways ahead of him with a renewed pep in your step and your hair a little dishevelled — he is so glad it went the way it did.
———————————————————————
Edit: I had a couple people request a part 3 (Possibly smutty, but we shall see), and I'm curious about whether or not y'all would want that? Just let me know in the replies/reblogs. :)
Update: Part 3 is posted and linked at the top of this post :)
Taglist:
@louderfortheback @theblaxkbird @marimorena06 @special-forces7 @lolilkkk
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churipu · 9 days
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hii i hope ur midterms r going well !! ive binge read so many of ur work n js wanted to say theyre so amazing (´꒳`) i wanted a request for toji + any other character of ur choice x reader who stays up late n has difficulty sleeping (fluff),, thank u !! 🤍
𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗔𝗠 !
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────── 𝕴 . featuring. toji fushiguro x reader
────── 𝕴 . warnings. cursing, and mentions of toji being soft, i love him.
note. hi nonnie! thank you so much, you're too nice to me, and yes, my midterms went well! it's been so long since i've done the requests in my inbox, which is the sole reason to why i have closed my ask box so i could finish them all! although, the next time i open them, i won't accept requests for a bit. sorry for those who have visited my inbox and have waited for a long time for your piece to be done. // anyways, new theme = new layout!
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"why aren't you in bed?"
toji's voice came out hoarse — he cleared his throat and approached you, sitting himself on the couch despite his heart caressing his ears, pleading for him to go back inside the bedroom and just lay back down on the bed.
the cotton surface of the couch dipped just as he practically threw himself down on it, holding back a loud yawn. you raised a brow, shoving the spoonful of cereal you mixed with milk five minutes ago, just before toji emerged from your shared room.
small yellow chips of cereal that had grown soggy, seeping in the white tasteless liquid dispersed into a mush inside your mouth. they weren't even solid as they're supposed to be, "can't sleep, you?"
"you weren't there."
old habits die hard. that's how the saying goes, and you undeniably agreed to that. the night is an old friend to you, never did your eyelids felt heavy when you were supposed to be in bed, asleep. it's not healthy, you're killing yourself doing this.
"you're such a baby," you mutter out, staring into space, feeling your eyes slowly dissociate — jaw moving in a slow motion, biting into wet and mush before you swallow them.
"y/n, it's three am, y' can't keep doing this stuff," toji scratches his nape, leaning his head back onto the couch rest.
despite your eyes staring into nothing, you could hear his words pretty well. in fact, toji had repeated the same words countless of times that you found yourself engraving it into your mind, "i know, i can't sleep. i know it's not healthy, if i could stop it, i would."
"you're scooping nothing, y/n."
this time, his statement pulled you back into reality. looking down to see that you were indeed scooping no soggy cereal chip, nor a drop of milk onto your spoon. chuckling out lightly, you stood up and sauntered over to the kitchen, dumping what was left of your cereal pieces into the sink.
"you should go to bed," you tell him, wiping your wet hands onto your shirt — crumpling up the fabric to soak them in the access waterdrops lacing your fingers, "'ts late."
toji scoffs lightly, "shouldn't i be saying that shit to you?"
no mistakes there. you emitted out a soft sigh, "i'm fine, i'll be back in bed in a few . . ." toji raises a brow skeptically. he never forgot the last time you said that, he woke up alone on the bed — and you were wide awake on the couch, watching the morning news.
"hell no. it's two of us or nobody goes back to bed, 'm not kidding." he mutters out, not realizing how harsh his voice came out as.
brows furrowed deeply, he looks at you. your disheveled (h/c) hair going all point in a compass points, the visible dark shade of exhaustion coloring under your eyes — and the light creases on the corner of your beautiful, tired eyes.
"can you not?" you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose; honestly, you can't blame him at all, he's just a worried boyfriend and you were being stubborn.
"can i not what? worry about my own—" he stops mid sentence and shakes his head. toji was never a man of words, he doesn't express his affection to you through words. he's had moments, not a lot, but he's had them.
toji's a man of actions. he thinks that words mean nothing, which you knew, "'m tired, but i can't sleep, okay? i'll just hang out here a few more minutes and i'll come back to bed. you don't have to stay awake just because 'm awake."
"just shut up."
you stare at him, surprised. parting your lips, you try to speak again but toji beats you to it.
"can't i worry about you or something? you're my partner," he said, his then exhausted eyes now fully refreshed. a tinge of frustration coloring his greenish iris.
your eyes darted around for a bit, searching for words to spout out as a reply, "you don't have to worry about me, 'm fine. i promise. so, can you please just go to bed and stop worrying about me?"
"fuck that," he stands up, with heavy footsteps he darted towards you.
his figure grew in your view as he closes the distance between you and him. with a quick motion, he threw you over his shoulder, letting you dangle over his shoulder. at this point, you were too exhausted to even move a limb so you just laid there, not having the cell to even open your mouth.
toji walks over to the bedroom and he sat you down gently on the bed. on most occasions, he would throw you onto the bed playfully — but this was serious. he's pissed, and you're pissed.
"sleep."
you crane your neck upwards, face scrunching into one of annoyance, "i just told you that i can't—"
"try."
shaking your head, you said, "i can't, i've tried."
his finger brushed over your hair, smoothing them back down. he didn't reply to you. frankly, he finds it hard to be in the current position — as a kid, he was taught to never show his weakness. he grew up in a household full of so much hate that he forgot what love is.
here you were. vulnerable, in a weak state that toji has seen a lot before throughout your relationship. if this was anyone else, toji swore he'd tell them to suck it up because life isn't always what they think it ought to be.
but this isn't anyone else, it's you. y/n. the only person toji has showed his own vulnerable sides to — it's like a punch to his gut when he saw a bit of his younger self in you. he had nobody, and nobody had him.
it's different this time, it's not about him anymore. it's about you. you had him, and he had you.
toji inhaled sharply, his large hands slipping underneath your pits as he gently pushes you up. your feet dangled as he then pulled you into him, his right hand traveled onto the hollow of your back — and his left hand prepped your legs around his torso.
you felt like a child, "what're you doing?"
"shut up," he mutters out into the crook of your neck, "just try to get some sleep."
he pressed his lips onto your skin tenderly, making you shudder at the sudden contact — but you liked it. toji didn't stop, with an arm around your waist, and another under your thighs, he held you close to him.
warm and shallow breaths blew onto your skin like warm lights, it didn't tickle, you bury your head into the crook of his neck. copying his actions, "'m sorry."
toji grunted, "for?"
"just . . . everything," you murmur out.
his grip around your waist tightened, "'ts not somethin' to be sorry of, you can't control it. so just try and get some sleep," he muttered out, rocking side to side gently.
a faint smile appeared on your lips as you pulled your head back slightly, "you're too nice to me."
"don't get used to it," toji rolled his eyes.
"i love you too," you planted a kiss onto his lips briefly before returning your head into the crook of his neck, letting him lull you to sleep for the night.
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE.
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watashijeon · 9 months
Text
Mon Ange. | KTH
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♫ listen while reading 📖— Is there someone else ~ The Weeknd
before you read: Keep in mind that this is all purely fiction. If any of the below warnings trigger you then do not read, blocking is welcomed if you are uncomfortable btw.. idc! (*- 3•*)~
pairing: sub!reader × lawyer dom!taehyung
part 1 here
wc. 7.6k | smut & angst + fluff (reader is 22 & tae is 32)
Warnings: (+18) — taehyung smokes, long raw rough sex, creampie, infidelity & cheating (not between yn & tae), arranged marriage, inaccurate lawyer talk blah blah, intense orgasm, missionary, drunk tae to tipsy tae, spanking & face slapping, backhanded praise, lotsa dirty talk, aftercare, overthinking and anxiety esque moments, tension all around.. enjoy
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— I made you mine, or so it seemed. I might as well be two feet tall. You never will love me at all. —
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You’re calling out for his name, nothing can kill this moment. He feels sweetness and ease.. never has he let himself slip. But tonight is his birthday or so it was hours before.
Nonetheless, nothing could kill the stillness.
"Hm?" he’s mumbling with his speech, nose buried into pretty flushed skin. He feels confused, feeling you still when your words came out so blurred in his mind.
“I have to tell you something.”
Completely lost now where this was going, he stills his touch. Awkward and stiff, you make eye contact for what you are about to say.
He doesn’t understand the build up, he just wish you would say what it was. Maybe you had to take some time away from him due to your work.. he understood, he didn’t mind that.
"I think we should end our arrangement."
Oh. It’s so different from what he had just suspected, why does his heart feel like it just plummeted to another oblivion of nothing?
Taehyung doesn’t care, he’s undisciplined and chaotic with his very few next actions.
You need to leave. Freezing up, ready for his immediate impulse, because you know him like the back of your hand. The man picks you right off from his lap, rather rough and he would have time to regret on the meanness of it later.
He’s quick to pointing his hand open palm stiff and stern to the now sad wrinkled dress on the floor that laid lonely.
“Well, go on then.”
Your eyes looked at him pained, you had not a clue what his reaction really meant but you moved. Wiggling on your dress, back faced to him before looking once more to see his distracted stare. He is so out of it now, he doesn’t know.
“You understand.. right, Tae?” oh why must you speak so sweet to him using his shorten nickname in that especially nauseating sweet voice, even the way you are ending this is a million times nicer than he has ever ended a fling with a person.
“I do, bye.”
He’s being so mean, harsh and rude.
Taehyung hopes you won’t dwell on it or let it hurt your heart like it will to his very own.
But somehow he wants it to pain you, make you feel the same burn and ripping he feels in his chest right now. What did he do wrong?
“Goodbye Taehyung.” and that was it, the door clicked and so did his very front one. Left with the forbidden but likely delicious and perfect red velvet cake you’ve made, and a gift that sat perfectly next to it wrapped in his favorite color for wrapping paper on his kitchen island.
And indeed you had to make his favorite cake flavor, meaning you remembered the stupid detail when he told you on a night together.
≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
He remembers so clearly on the morning you stayed after for the first time coming over for six months. The two of you had lazed in his bed between tangled limbs and sheets “I will, I will protect you.” your lips dropped into a pout tracing your nimble finger over the man’s jaw.
How could you even say that when you leave him not much later, he doesn’t get it. This isn’t like you at all. Maybe being in pained denial he couldn’t accept the sore fact that someone made the first move on with abandonment.
You weren’t supposed to lie, it’s uncalled for and unacceptable. But even deep down the man knew he was being ignorant, he’s lied to many people to avoid hurt and it was his own field of career to lie if necessary.. that’s all you were trying to do.
The man can’t dare to muster up to think you have a bad bone in your little body that was filled of nothing less of kindness. But right now he won’t be rational with his assumptions.
He’s angry and selfish with dire need for your presence now all over again, no matter the situation that this is. But whatever really, big deal that you are gone. He will find someone else to fuck his life into, you are no different from any other living human with a hole.
He pauses.
Never mind that, fuck that. He deserves a good and perfect reason for why you did this.. leaving him in the dark, quite literally. Taehyung can't stand not talking to you even if he never took time to speak so much into your conversations. He still appreciated all of your efforts and presence you put into whatever what you had was, now it’s all fucking gone.
He used to act upon impulse when he would have multiple play things through out the month. But you, you make him stop to think. It makes him wrinkle his nose because he does not have a clue why you turn him to be this way. It’s simply you being you, no spell.. no great manipulation in your words. Just you.
In the beginning of this arrangement he was reluctant given the age gap, especially with the relation that you were a long time family client of his.
Once he became enthralled with someone.. he could say it took a lot to kill it.
You weren’t the only one that had the privilege, he’s turned thirty two this year and definitely doesn’t have enough fingers to count on with how many girls he has used up and nicely dumped off to the side — kindly.
Sparing the honest reason that he needs to focus on his career before weeks later he would latch claws into his new toy, it’s only painstakingly different now.
Much different because he had never held onto a “toy” for over a few months at a time, the man liked variety and trying new things. With you in the picture, it was sickening at the fact that he grew real attachment to every little thing about you. It made him want you more. While he is nothing great of the sort for you, he was only a warm body to give you what was desired. You gave him your body and time, in return he would give you lust driven pleasure.
He was the one who established what you two were from the great beginning, he was not allowed to feel betrayed and cheated. Someone could hate him and he would cackle at that, a girl could scream at the stoic man and he’d chuckle again. Once you lose his interest there is no winning him back, it's as if getting stuck in a never ending pit of quick sand that could swallow you in pitiful eyes. He thinks it’s valid to feel this way, he’s coming to terms with the whole ordeal of what all this was.
Being your damn family lawyer and you had met him when you were the young age of nineteen, a mere baby. It definitely took some time for him to be ok with the fact that he would end up fucking you almost weekly with your given age — he’s not a pervert.. right? But you were a mature girl as you grew up, he liked you for this reason.. different and good for whatever he wanted and still you set healthy boundaries not letting him walk over your toes.
Time will pass nicely, right? He will be fine and move on — find someone even better. A little reflecting won’t hurt his soul.
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It has been a little over two months since the grouch for a man has seen you, turning slowly into the twentieth century version for Scrooge.
Promising himself each day he would not give in and call you, you will be the one to run back.
He’s been saying that to himself since the day you up and left.. now his very once high and wild ego was now dwindling day by day and he is pissed beyond belief, because wow, wowww. You really did leave him as if he planned to do the exact for you in the beginning of meeting with you, that was before he caught a liking and it was only for your body, of course.
Yes.. that’s what is was. It was only really your gorgeous body that gave him pleasure to see you again and again, never mind the fact of your amazing personality or one of a kind glowing aura that brought a sweet genuine smile on his usual crest fallen features.
Broken from his reverie he’s receiving a call, he’s been sat still buried in his office since six am. It’s how he gets through his days to not think about you or testing the waters of calling.
The phone clicks and clatters, he needs to get himself a new desk phone or better yet just buy another smartphone. Huffing and puffing, he inhales and exhales seeing the caller id.
“Hello, it’s been awhile sir.”
It’s your father, he has to fake a front for the sake of niceties and also being civil because your very own damn dad has been using the Kim’s for any law or business relations since Taehyung was probably born, he’ll complain and grumble later on to a nice white wall of his.
“Oh yes! Things have been crazed.”
Taehyung really wonders about that, a hotel tycoon can only get so wild and crazed.. right?
“Hmm, I understand. What can I help you with.”
“Ah, Mr Kim. let’s get down to it—“ the grinch for a man licks and licks his lips again out of great big habit, becoming nervous of the lingering for just how long it takes this man to get to a point. Many clicks and clattering over the other line.. the older would continue.
“So, I need to talk through some paperwork with you regarding about merging contracts.”
“Go on, sir.” he can’t be this vague.. come on. Shouldn’t he know better than to speak so small about important shit, god help his ticking time bomb for patience being not a virtue.
Ping
If silence could kill it would be deathly here and now, he receives the paper work faxed over. A skim and scan later — Taehyung feels his heart plummet to places beyond his comprehension.
It’s just so now, he realizes your father has been blabbering about whatever this whole time.
“What is this all for?”
His eyes ogle and ogle for more than a few times he could count, reading the bold letters of “Marital License and Contract Briefing.”
“Well if it wasn’t obvious, our dear y/n is going to get married next month. We have set her up with the perfect man who is a well respected hotelier heir, a perfect match for our family.”
Of course.. of course your father would set you up with a person that is in the same position of business as him, you probably had no word or real say in this. God, why does he feel wrath and anger. He wants to rip his hair out straight.
He should be happy for you, your new husband to be probably feels like home in his arms.
So much that he bets he mends you with warm healing long hugs, and utterly disgusting kind smiles that remind you of honey mixed into sweet vanilla, your very two favorite things.
He continued to offer your father a tight-lipped smile as if he could see him through the phone, briefly looking up from the contracts on his computer screen — faxed papers sitting nice and crisped on his desk. He thinks it’s best he ends this call now before he yells off.
“Ok sir, I’ll look over them and we will discuss the terms and things that will be strewn.”
“Oh that is great to hear! I invite you over tomorrow for tea, we will discuss all of the paperwork then. Yes?”
He won’t allow himself to think about that, he will agree just to get off this damn phone call.
“Yes sir, I’ll see you then, good night.”
Click.
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He’s here, he can’t believe he actually came.
Sat in the way too high ceilings for a living area, he will blame it on why he feels this nauseated. God, he knows you live here obviously. It’s been your parents odd and traditional rule until you were ready to move out when they thought it was best, you always said that was why you still stayed with them. What he didn’t know was the bizarre underlying conditions were marriage.
“Ah Kim, here we are.” The meeting begins and ends with the blink of an eye.
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It went awful in Taehyung’s eyes, he really didn’t want to hear about you getting married off for a great three hours. It left the man wanting to seethe and bite his mouth off until the older would finally shut up to take a puff or sip of liquor.
Then on he tried to laugh with your father.. even when it felt as if pearly teeth might crack with only how hard his jaw flexed shut.
Your father welcomes the man to stay over for only awhile longer, he won’t accept it, kindly.
He has to get going.. because someone (Taehyung) couldn’t handle on what all just happened. While the hag of your father thought it was a good idea to step out and take a call.
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15 minutes before
It’s been minutes now and your father isn’t back, Taehyung decides to dwell around with his eyes to gawk at the various family portraits hung from generations before and other astray framed photographs of little you and family.
He has the urge to trace his finger along the frames but he won’t, definitely not now.
“Tae..?”
Like clockwork, Taehyung’s head cocks in nanoseconds to the spiraled staircase you stood by, gripping on the bar to keep stance.
You look gorgeous right now, still the same as before. He can’t help but let his eyes trail over your legs, he’s no better than any other man. He decides he can’t stare for much longer though, clearing his throat to cock his head off to the side in mimicking a fake neck crack.
“Hello.” he decides on, licking lips for the trillionth time and resting hands into pockets.
Your stare doesn’t stutter elsewhere, you copy him yourself — licking lips except only slower and more tantalizing. Or that’s how he sees it. He hated confrontation, one of his favorite things about you though.. is you’d ask too many questions every time you were around. He’d act like he hated it, but bathed in the attention and attentive wide eyes you once had all for him.
It’s only none of the many questions you’d ask would ever provoke the man to deflect, bother him up the wall and make him drop you soon later in his own sheer annoyance like usual. It’s happened to others, he’s an asshole but he could care less because at least he is honest.
Seeing you now gives him bitter sweetness for deja vu, the memory to when he saw you for the first time when you were eighteen — never having an ounce of interest in you then. You were a pesky teenager though, ogling the man like sweet candy for your taking. Nothing unusual he hadn’t encountered before.. only ever moving forward to do his job and ignore it.
That helped some.
Both of you finally interacted properly then when you were twenty, clear that you had matured fast and you were well with holding good conversation. While.. your dear father ran around with his head cut off like a chicken and leaving a bored lawyer Kim to wait for set business meetings to be done, you were lovely company at least.
Then somehow.. something happened, the day where he took your virginity in your childhood bathroom — it was your 21st birthday after all.
It was almost too universal how the world wanted you two to be alone at this awful time. But the moment happened so fast maybe too fast if he wants to dwell on it now, only once comforting the weeping girl that trembled in his arms to have you seconds under his grasp.
You had to, just had to look down at him with those puppy dog eyes choking a mere sob of “Am I not important.. is that what it is Tae?”
God he hated how you said his name, so sweet and quiet. Full of vulnerability and sadness.
He couldn’t allow a pretty girl like you, sobbing over something so minuscule on her birthday, he had a great plan of course. Comfort? No.
Fuck the sadness out of you, it will do you well.
It’s shameful at how he’s too old for your young sweet heart that still had much to see and live.. he’s nothing but rotten fruit at best.
But why did he want to stay selfishly so.
Your eyes did it in for him, they always did..
Corny and sappy he thinks.
He tries to move on with the passing thoughts of why do you need to be claimed now when he was starting to think he could have tried. He hopes you had at least one passing thought yourself of the what ifs and hows.
Present
All but nothing of silence settles between the two of you, no words are exchanged past that.
Eventually steps dissipate further from him to hear, you leave after the stare off you both shared — thankfully your father interrupts.
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It’s been a few hours since you last saw him, you knew way before he was going to dial your phone. Doing exactly this, after your third attempt to ignore the countless calls you press accept to hear the expectant drawl of your name in stupor.
You’re sure he’s grinning dumb and widely boxy, almost as if youth takes over for these very small tipsy minutes. His vulnerability is clearly yours now, it’s so viable at how bad he is vying for attention.
You prepare yourself, clearing your throat and speaking as clear and stern as one could be.
“Hello?”
“Hmmmhmm, hello.”
There’s a pause, awkward, but he’s drunk so he likely doesn’t recognize the rising tension.
“Yes, Taehyung?”
There’s a giggle..? Oh my god he just giddily giggled at your voice. No, no your heart isn’t doing backflips — you’re just concerned.
“At your door, open sesame.” you can hear him try to knock like a madman — even if there’s visibly a buzzer that’s meant to be there so insiders could hear from the size of your parent’s insanely huge home.
Drunk Taehyung doesn’t know that though.
Fuck well, ok you guess. Thank god your father isn’t home for the night — you begin to panic but you can dissolve situations fine, it’s your strong suit or one of the many of them at least.
You practically lunge from your bed to tumble over down the stairs, trying to keep him half entertained while you tunnel yourself to the door before the maids could see the odd sight.
Being quiet as you can be with unlocking the door, Taehyung makes it no issues to pull a dramatic scene. Already seconds in through the door staring you down, like any other would be scared of the predatory stare.
But this is Taehyung, he would never hurt you.
All you can do, Slowly watching him advance at you skittering back until you’re pressed to the wall. He doesn’t touch you, leaned against the victorian wall with each hand on either side trapping you between him.
He won’t stop there yet, drawling your name out in a drunken purr “Aw-huh. Angel, you got yourself stuck..what are we going to do now?" like no moral was ever created — toes curled into wooden floors from the deep baritone voice awakening all of your weaken senses.
You try, trying so damn hard and ignore it.
Staring hard into empty eyes, his bags are awfully visible and you wonder if he’s even slept lately.
You’re so tiny and frazzled by his abrupt actions, feeling him slide a warm hand up to your stomach to trail barely under your tits. The same said empty eyes sharpen at your slip of a pathetic whine, closing you into the wall a tad too close for comfort to make you both bump into each other’s chest.
“Wanna fuck this pretty cunt again.”
His words boom into you everywhere, from head to toe and places you wouldn’t like to acknowledge that throbbed with need. Doomed, definitely, that’s what you are.
You can only exhale feeling a warm shiver travel down your spine from the daring slip of drunken tongue. Able to pull enough strength to squeak a soft response “L-let’s lay down.”
It was your best bet to avoid from ruining your impending future, you won’t allow no more mishaps to happen. It’s all for your father.
He settled off with a hum, you were surprised he’d backed off. Maybe the man recognizing the nervousness in your tone, “Lead the way.”
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It’s quiet now, too tense for your liking but you can’t do anything you think to help the off situation. Laid in your bed next to each other with a foot of space between your bodies.
It’s uncanny how alike this situation reminds you of some movie you watched with the man.
You feel like you’re steps away from saying the infamous line of “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off.”
You won’t have a second to think longer when the big bear decides to speak up into the unknown of silence that had lasted for a long hour, “I get it.. yeah, you don't love me, big fucking deal.”
Silence, absolutely nothing back.
“I’ll never tell you how I really feel, angel.”
Your breath was being held for seconds until he decides to follow with cockiness, there it is.
Always showing a slip of vulnerability followed with the man being plain rude. It’s the way your eyes roll that cause a gasp to stutter from him, almost like he didn’t expect your attitude nor harsh yet honest reaction.
He won’t comment on it properly, never does.
“Hold me.” he mumbles while simultaneously grumbling, trying his definition in hard to get you closer than whatever.. this is. Your brow ticks at him head shifting to properly face his pouted features from his side profile, feeling up for the need to deny him only a bit.
“What? Stop mumbling.”
He won’t take a pause this time, thankfully.
“Hold me goddammit.” he huffs and puffs out even louder — yet incoherently all in the same breath. Taehyung coughs, trying to clear his throat and mocks you with a roll in his own eyes of annoyance, like you did something.
That time you did “hear” him and you did what was asked by the big grizzly bear, only you turned to him closer now — seeing that wry smile on his cruel but godforsaken pretty face.
The spiral begins, you and him are going to give into this hell of fire.. only letting it grow uncontrollable by the end of night.
Are you going to do well without me?
Are we ever going to be okay?
Will we ever be fine?
You were too good to be forgotten in his heart.
It was too quiet in this room, silent and tense.
Taehyung felt nothing but regret, fucking stupid as he closed his eyes and mumbled these pitiful words.
Stupid, as he continued to speak gibberish into the room. I feel stupid. I am stupid.
You finally give up on the swallowing of the never ending silence and endless mumbling under his breath, tongue dry trying to clear your throat so to maybe finally speak — maybe even summon him back, and he does. It works because he lets his eyes finally open back.
You tug him into your chest wasting no more time when there’s not much, arms wrapped tight around his stiff figure that takes only just a minute to loosen once he realized you weren’t going to push him back anymore.
It’s not much different though, his nails still pierced into his forearm with thin lips folded into teeth to feel anything but what this is right now. You were staring at him, Taehyung, your father’s lawyer, your first crush and realization that you really only like and desire older men.
Now wishing you’d rather have gone to therapy instead of pursue that day in the bathroom.
You don’t mean that actually, you just hate yourself at this very moment and so does he.
But this wasn't the Taehyung you knew, wasn't the same man with styled hair and sultry eyes.. looking now as real life death in your arms.
You weren’t trying to be harsh nor hateful, you were worrying your heart out and confirming all the racing thoughts you have figured to be maybe going on. Only for them to come to life. He looks unreal tonight, almost unnatural from his usual sun kissed skin. No more sharpness to his look, the man looks fucking sick.
You want to coddle him to death, your own heart feels like it’s going to lurch right out from it’s chest by any second now if he keeps looking at you with those sad puppy dog eyes. This was not the look you yearned to see, you hated it all so much.
“Well.” clearing his throat, trying to prove something into air. Maybe it’s a lawyer instinct.
You repeat back to him without a beat to really think, “Well..” you use the same tone of voice but maybe yours wavered more in raw pain. The man wordlessly continued to stare like always, holding your hand tight in his grip in bringing it up to his lips. You should reject his warm touch, leave even, run far.
But why are you still laying here.. melting away.
He was being this gentle and just careful, you would giggle if the situation weren’t tense now.
Long fingers playing with lips, digits ghosting over your cheek with a soft caress. You can’t help but shut your own tired eyes, melting more and more and it was just like that.
His control is gone, so fast and fluidly when your lashes fluttered to cold skin. Whispering his name too sweet and soft almost in prayer.
"We can’t.. it would be wrong.” it’s insane how you knew his intentions from the speed his hands traveled to the material of your night dress.
"So fucking wrong," he becomes almost too ready with heavy pants of hot breath kissing your jaw and neck.
Eager calloused thumbs rubbing circles into your hips that were on the brink of trembling.
You whine at the tone he uses, becoming easy to his invasion "Don't.. don't speak like that." Eyes heavy lidded, lips licking with each breath that exhaled from your stuttering chest.
He wants you dead it seems, feeling up your body more and more by every passing second before easy fingers would get to your chest.
"I'm wrong like that.. you like it," the man preaches with determined digits this time skimming back down onto your hips to hear his favorite strangled whines "you want it.”
"Ah.. T-tae” it’s pathetic.. sounding asthmatic in your own ears from mere fingers grazing you rough.
"Who's married? Certainly not you, yet."
You pause to mull it over, eyes falling into his.
He truly doesn’t care now, past gone. Nothing can stop this — you need him.. your sweet eyes tell almost all too fucking well for him to know.
He's moving on autopilot when he pulls you to him with no awareness of anything around him, the man frenzied with his only living goal to feel you wrapped around him. Whether it be with loose limbs or his all well endowed cock buried deep between warm tightness, he needed to feel you again.
Your gasps fall out too soft to be surprised at the sudden roughness, murmuring whining moans that fell into a mantra of "We can't..” tiny cries that quickly later start falling into hungry kisses while neither of you had an ounce of intention to stop, no matter the end of it.
Lips already collided against each other in a perfect mess of motion, tongues lolled out of your mouthes as the pleasure binds you both.
It’s disgusting now, strings of drool dribbling to your chest from every pause he took to pull and nip. The man grabs your scalp, yanking you head back against his shoulder. Jaw slack open to give him the prettiest mouth for him to gladly spit right down onto your tongue, so pathetic all for his demise.
Doing all the nothing but moaning and swallowing, open mouth with all your might.
Leaving a desperate plea in sparkly eyes while you wait impatient for his next move, you missed him. Eyes yearning and lips quivering, legs shaking so early on and yet.. your spine just might go limp quite soon.
You whine almost instantaneously and nothing less of desperate while the devious man began to nibble harshly down on your neck with small bites of love.
Moving on nothing but anger and bubbled feelings at surface, shoes being removed, with the stubborn zipper of your night dress slipping down from your shoulders as hungry lips explored every inch of skin that became exposed.
So quick, licking a wet stripe down your chest to stomach to feeling you shake with desire and need, tasting the want for you on his tongue.
“Hmm, your poor husband to be.”
He hated that, hated the fact that you were about to belong to someone. He knew he wanted and needed you to feel the burn that he had been feeling for months since then.
"I'm not t-telling," you can barely form a sentence let alone a proper sound that didn’t make you sound out to be like a deprived slut.
The man can’t do much other than scoff, you having the strength to use that reassuring tone— with such a soft tone and bat pretty doll eyes in lost of such easy pleasure given.
Looking this fucking gorgeous and it’s going to be all for someone else, not him ever “I know angel, not with the way i’m about to fuck you.”
Like clockwork you moan like a bitch at that, of course. Feeling him sink razor sharp canines down into the squishy flesh of your stomach.
Uncaring completely for the fresh marks, he would hope in your future meeting with that man.. you wouldn’t become so easy to show yourself off for him. Sliding his fingers from your stomach down over to your cunt, slipping long digits between sopping wetness — sticky as if you already had touched yourself earlier.
He’s growing impatient, on the aspect of stretching you out when he so gladly craves to stuff you four fingers full. But he’s a gentleman at his very best, always calling out for him in non-stop “T-tae..” or better yet “Touch me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good.” without any doubt he would answer “Anything for the angel.”
Your thighs already shake from the burn of /slowly/ fucking yourself on long fingers. Tears streaming, overwhelmed by the burning stretch that comes with each motion, soon quiet sniffles and soft gasps turn into sobbing when the man decides to snake his hand and start to tease and slowly circle your clit.
“So perfect, all for me, hm.”
You nod eager to please, blushing all the way down to your toes. Biting your lip, thoughts not holding very well against the feeling of the eager man’s middle finger now slipping out from you to part your cunt and stroke along the sore slit.
“Patient tonight? You must want it bad.” he sighs almost sounding bored, standing tall over you to undo the belt that once looped through his slacks. Long gone leather abandoned to the floor along with his slacks pooled at his ankles, ready, finally.
“You gotta be nice and quiet for me. Yeah? Can you do that for me?”
You’re way past desperate tonight, choking out a broken “Y-yes, fuck! Please.” wild hips winding up for more of the now lost touch.
The older plays coy, smirking lopsided and lazy, kneeling on the bed to line himself up to the pretty plump cunt. Long digits wrapped around his cock, "Open up for me baby."
She obeys immediately, legs opening wider to shakily wrap themselves around Taehyung’s waist. His hips up to slip his cock into the crease of your folds. Grinding there half tipsy now, leaky tip nudging at your clit.
Not wasting another second, the first push of stretch has you whining his name. Long nails piercing into taut honey skin, cock fucking in ruthless at the long thrusts that heat your core up, forming sweat down his neck and shoulders.
“Goood fucking girl.” He drawls with a husky moan, you want to die at how fucking hot he sounds.
He doesn’t care, going faster to no point of being coherent in your mind. Punishing strokes fucking the life out of you, snapping his cock right into your tight cunt. One hand bruised into your hip while the other slipped easily around your neck just enough to have you alert “Look me in the eyes when I’m fucking you.”
Lashes fluttering half open, looking with a fuzzy minded daze. Knowing you look like a slut, feeling drool drip everywhere along with the slickness between your legs. Coming to the reality you would let him do anything and you’d welcome it.
"Just like that baby, shit, taking my cock so fucking good," he grunts almost feral with every punishing stroke "Y-yes, " tiny voice choking out, slamming into you with hips winding harder if that was even humanely possible "Love it so much, I-love your cock.”
“Who’s a whore, uh? Who’s desperate for cock.”
“Tell me.” he growls slowing the roll of his hips into you to pull a desperate cockslut spill a mess of “Me, me, me.” you’re hyperventilating almost with how good he feels “M-me, I’m sorry!” god, the situation is a mess but he wouldn’t be lying if he wasn’t thinking about filling his load in you and pray to the man above that your birth control didn’t work.
feeling walls grow tighter and tighter, knowing the telltale signs you were about to cum.
“Perfect fucking girl, sucking me so tight.”
“S-stop..” you whine in embarrassment with a broken sob when you feel the devil himself sink deeper, balls deep inside you now.
Back and forth, back and forth.
An addictive dance, once friendly boundaries expanding to something that was speaking what will stay unspoken. Taehyung’s cock sliding so good inside your cunt you were dying with bliss for the night.
He can see you struggle to try and put a hand over your mouth, but the man won’t allow that. Snatching your hand in his grasp “Let her hear," he growls, referring to the maids and starts to fuck the life out of your cunt with no care for how loud you moan or scream.
"Y-your slut," you stutter, feeling him start to raise his hips to meet your weak attempt of grinding back, thrusting upward and matching your sloppy speed. "wanna b-be your slut."
His ego growing higher than before and dick hard as ever, Taehyung taunts, already knowing the answer by your dazed features.
“Oh yeah?” he pants grunting with every roll of his hips, and you can do nothing but give him what he wants. On the brink of tears you whine out broken moans, “So fucking bad, please Tae.”
“Come on." the taller’s strokes turning slow and hard, each one pulling a moan from sweet agape lips. "Cum on my cock.” you’re past coherent, cock drunk with drool slipping down your chin.
The ecstasy bursting through your body at an unimaginable rate,legs feel almost numb, smaller fingers gripping your sheets so hard. Taehyung already knew you would rip them off the corners of your bed, seeing how your own skin burned. Orgasm still sending ripples throughout your tiny body. Shaking as you came down from the high, cock buried deep, cum spilling inside as he keeps your body pressed together, skin to skin. His nose buried in the crook of longer sweaty strands of hair.
You begin to feel the feather kisses he mouthed over the expanse of your neck, his body quivering with the last of his cum filling you up.
“Fuck, yeah, ok.” is all he can do to respond, you can only hum in response as you’re being fucked so mind-numbingly good. Body moving along the bed as you’re fucked open for the year.
Your blissed-out state has the man feeling on top of the world, no case he’s won ever given him this much ecstasy for this feeling of high.
Knowing that the same woman he's been getting off to for months, that was only planned to be handed over to someone else is finally getting fucked. His pretty not so sweet angel drooling all for him, ruined for good by just his cock.
The floaty feeling back to how it was, only stronger than ever, the way Taehyung feels so right up against you.
He comes from his feverish moment of just drilling into you, no awareness for how overwhelming it may be. A smaller hand trying to grab his hand to make him stop, he sees nothing less of rage.
"Move your fucking hand.” he snaps with a hiss, snatching your hand in an iron like grasp.
“only I can touch you like this.” he states, hard and stern as if it’s a plead mixed into question. “Yeah?” of course he has to slap you for you to answer, braindead and cock hungry.
“Yes, all for you!” you squeal, body curling into yourself — he begins to dwell how there is not a real thought behind your eyes but his fingers and cock bearing your only passable thoughts.
He wants to laugh, your poor husband is about to be inadvertently about to be cucked.
You moan at how rough he’s being, every yank, spanking and slap getting you more than riled up. Rambling the typical ‘I love you, I love your cock.’
He’s aggravated, not sure why, deep down knowing. "Look at me and tell me what you want.” no way to receive an answer unless he squeezed a generous hand around your throat.
“Y-you, you, fuck!”
It’s not enough, he wants to laugh at his greediness that will not sate him ever.
Again and again, back and forth. Another slap landed across each apple red cheek, going harder each lashing.
“Again.”
You repeat yourself again, hm, still not enough.
He’s done with himself, frustrated and choosing to vomit his words.
“You’re mine, get that through your fucking head.” his thrusts were past hard and fast, bruising now. He grunted and groaned while you continued to moan and whimper beneath him, going so rough he decided to push your skull deep into the bed. Warm palm covering your face whole, feeling you squeeze involuntarily at being used like an object.
“Atta girl.” He didn't stop, not once. You weren’t asking to anyways just screaming his name for more — no mind here with nodding away into a mess full of bedsheets, trying to wind wobbly hips back on his cock to bounce lewdly.
Taehyung does nothing less but snap sharply against your ass, “So fucking tight, mine."
"C-cum in me tae," you moan, seeing white, reaching down blindly to rub your clit in frantic circles, begging at the idea of the older filling you with his cum. "Fill me up, give-give me a baby."
"Fuuuck," Taehyung growls and groans almost feral "Don't fucking say that shit."
"W-why not?" bratty whines beg “F-fill me up? Don't say that?"
Taehyung grunts, pulling you on him, chest to chest, you clamor to wrap shaky arms around his neck. Fuck, he’s holding you upright, bouncing you straight onto his cock. Falling forward with a squeal, crying in pleasure as the tip of his cock hits your cervix with how deep he is inside.
"Want my cum so fucking bad?" he hums, trying his best to sound unbothered. "I'll fucking give it to you then."
Your legs clamp around his waist as he pounds into you, cock hitting every point inside your body and you’re so close you think you’ll die. You feel Taehyung tense, and then a sudden gush of warmth fill you.
"Fuck me, angel. You feel so good." he gasps through l shut teeth spanking you with every thrust he gave.
At the feeling of him actually listening to what you always wanted, your orgasm blinds you in intensity, the tight coil in your stomach finally snaps. Body seizing, moans loud against his lips, whining a final tired cry to slow down.
The baby clip once stuck to hair now hung loose, the feeling of warm hands kneading hips before he would give harsh slaps to your ass.
"What do you think he would say," he spits out the name with nothing but disgust. “if he saw you like this?" He shifts his hips, "You think he'd ruin your orgasm?" tone patronizingly sympathetic. “Or.. let you cum so prettily, like you always do.”
He tsks at watching how disoriented daze eyes go through the five stages of grief. Writhing in pleasure as eyes fall closed, breath hitched when he finally lays you back down on the bed. Thighs sticky and all, he sighs at the sight.
“Want to show this cunt off to the world."
“Y-you can’t..” you pout, his eyes watching you fall apart all over again at just words being spoken to you.
“Good thing for secrets.” he smirks his mouth almost falling into a snarl, it wasn’t even spoken this would continue. One last time you agreed.. but you want him more than ever even if your situation is doomed.
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“Bath?” he mutters with a whisper of soft kisses to your temple, you nod.
He grabs for his cigarettes, you hand him his lighter and wait until the deed was done so you could put them back off to the side again.
It’s been long since you both have took a bath together. He stretches his arms after he successfully calmed his nerves, you light the stick for him, eyes on him as he throws his head back to inhale. Blowing smoke out, body lazing while it filled with nicotine.
You like calm men, men who dont shout or break things when they’re upset. Men who talked to you in a gentle, low voice telling you what made them mad or what you did wrong.
That’s what Taehyung is to you, that’s what made you fall.. hard. You think it over all again in your current predicament, comfortable as ever.
Veiny caramel hands pulling your hips up in the bath for you to be settled nicely. A warm hand fondles your ass lovingly with his other taking puffs of smoke to inhale and exhale lazily, “My pretty girl.” he smiles lopsided before tugging your wobbly hips back down in relief, enjoying the way you whimpered and whined in your own way of retaliation.
Taking mercy before planting a wet kiss on your shoulder to whisper “I love you, Angel.”
Both of you decide on staying silent. Your back rests against his chest, deciding mutually to speak once the cigarette burnt into ashes.
“Does he make you feel safe, like I do?”
You don’t answer.
“I want you, you’re mine no matter what.”
≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
You are married now.. being due with a fast wedding to no love involved, business as the main goal.
The meets with Taehyung continue and you two make time to fuck when you can — poor Namjoon.
It hurts he thinks.. hurts so bad. Because he’ll have to look at you every month when you come over to be fucked into whatever.
While he is out handling business, leaving him in the spot to fuck you hard and good like he can’t, at least he tried to convince himself of that for his own comfort.
You keep up with the old routine of pillow talk, just to feel the same mundanity this once all was. You think, he doesn’t care what you speak of after he only just poured his dull sad soul into fucking you.
Not caring at how you talk so highly of your new husband and how well you both are adapting with each other. Rambling all on about your blossoming relationship with him, hearing you nervously speak of the plans on having kids together.
Of course not nervous on his behalf, no, no.
Because you are deathly nervous about if you will be a good mother or not, he knows you will, even if things are like this. You think it doesn’t hurt him, when you say genuinely on how he’ll be the “Cool friend of Mommy’s” to your children.
It drives a knife deep into my heart on how you speak so highly of this new life, how well you are adapting. When.. we could have had this.
“Tae..? You there?”
He’s not caring to respond to your rhetoric question that was all well laced of genuine care and worry, Taehyung can be an asshole just this once.
“Do you know what you are?”
You think this is a game of teasing now, he can tell with that pretty smirk plastered on your gorgeous face “What am I, sir?”
It’s too bad that he’s being genuinely serious.
“You’re my girl.”
You don’t take a second to pause, you play into the narrative with a grin that quickly warped into an innocent and sweet smile.
“I’m your girl, Taehyung.”
He only knew that you meant the world to him.. and he, adored you in his mind until it hurt.
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