#like your soul is ROTTEN inside you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astraystayyh · 7 months

Text

Volcano

pairing : han x reader. enemies to lovers. slow burn.

summary : you've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.

"I'll take care of you. It's rotten work. Not to me, not if it's you."

cw : depiction of a panic attack, minor injury, both reader and han say mean shit to each other, cursing, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

word count : 13.2k

a.n: highly recommend listening to "Let the light in" by Lana when Han starts playing it in the fic hehe feedback is highly appreciated as always <3

skz quotes series masterlist.

You remember being seven years old, sitting on the floor of your bedroom, while your mom brushed your hair. It was a late July night, a cold breeze swaying your white curtains, akin to the fluttering of a butterfly’s wing. Your eyes were slightly puffy, delicate red veins protruding the white of them. You had just finished watching a Disney movie- the Lion King; heavy sobs escaping your lips when Mufasa died.

There were still faint hiccups coursing through you, a slight shake in your hands as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. Your mom brought you to her chest, her chin resting on your small shoulder blade. "You’re sensitive, my sweet girl" she had uttered, rubbing your arms soothingly.

It was the first time someone described you as such. You didn’t know what ‘sensitive’ entailed exactly, but it contained the word ‘sense’, so you assumed it was something good, a quality to be proud of you. You could sense, maybe more than others, maybe too deeply. That’s why you cried when you didn’t get a good grade, or when your friends left you alone in the park.

But you didn't mind back then. What was your heart made for if not to feel?

You should’ve paid more attention to the way your mom spoke, to the bittersweetness lingering in her tone. As if she knew exactly what it entailed to be sensitive- to have your heart overflow with delicate feelings for the rest of your life, with no safe destination to guard them in.

☄༄

You’ve forgotten the last time you cried in.

The tears are lodged inside your throat- you can clearly feel them, an uncomfortable weight sitting on your vocal cords, rendering them impossible to use.

You used to cry, freely, so much that you lost count of how much it happened. But you realized that every tear that escaped your eyes, made you vulnerable, weaker, in the hands of the people around you. Every tear that washed over you, only rendered you more transparent for everyone to peer at how they wounded your soul.

So, you conditioned yourself to stop feeling as deeply, or at least to stop showing it. The sadness, the hurt, the anger were all stored within you; but your face remained placid, not betraying how you truly felt. You were like a pond, tranquil at the surface, raging from within.

But on days like this one, you miss the person you were. When the implications of being sensitive still haven’t weighed down on you. When you could get rid of your feelings in the essence of your tears. When you didn’t yet feel bad for feeling.

Chan's eyes are on you, as you type furiously on your laptop. Your vision is so blurry that you can no longer see your lit screen. But you’re afraid that if you pause then Chan would ask if you were okay, and you hated that question. Because you never truly knew the answer to it. Yes, you were okay. But you haven’t cried in six months and your friend didn’t greet you back this morning and you suddenly feel very small in a very large library.

"Hey," Chan taps your hand with his pen and you suck in a slight breath, before raising your head to meet his eyes. "Are you-" he starts but you’re quick to cut him off, knowing exactly where this was headed. "Did you answer question five? I’m stuck on what formula to use."

Chan raises a brow at you, and you blink repeatedly. His eyes travel to your feet tapping furiously against the floor, and he understands.

"I'm still at number four," he finally says and you nod in relief. You’ve been close friends for a year and Chan has come to know you- he’s dropping the subject.

"Oh, and are you coming to the party tonight?" Chan asks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s hosting it and there is hope twinkling in his eyes. You feel bad because you’re about to crush it.

"No, need to revise more for the upcoming test."

"Of course, you’ll still be buried in your books," a sarcastic voice quips up, and you stiffen inwardly. Han- one-third of 3racha, Chan’s self-made producing group, and the bane of your existence. You never liked who you were around Han, he brought out the worst in you. Made all your insecurities roar forward, plastered across your body in neon red.

He was friends with Chan, long before you came into the picture, back into their high school days when Han skipped a class and ended up in the same one as Chan’s. A genius, as everyone around you liked to call him. And they were right- excelling came easily to Han, in everything he ever did. Even tapping into each one of your tender nooks and crannies.

He knew how to expertly push your buttons, how to make his tone sound mocking, and taunting, but only to you. Because you were sensitive, and he knew it, finding it almost amusing to toy with you.

You decide to stay silent because nothing good ever comes out of talking back to him. So, you bite your tongue, turning back to look at your screen. But Han’s elbow grazes your arm, as he leans a bit further into your face. "Come on, live a little, y/n. You’re missing out on the college experience," he makes a big show of opening his arms wide, a single red pen spinning between his fingers. "Quit being stuck up for one night." And it spins, and it spins, and it spins and something ugly inside you crumbles.

"I’m sorry I wasn’t born with a golden spoon shoved down my throat and I actually have to work for my future."

Han’s eyes widen at the raw animosity in your voice, before narrowing down promptly. He’s leaning onto your face again, and his tone is low and cold when he speaks again. "What did you just say to me?"

"Is it so hard to grasp that not everyone is as privileged as you? We can’t all afford to get wasted every fucking night and call it a life."

You’re being mean. This is the rudest you’ve ever been to someone else. You know that your reaction is disproportionate to what he said. But it isn’t just about this instant. It’s an amalgam of every moment Han made you feel small in, because you don’t go out as much as him, because you don’t understand as quickly as him. Taunts thrown your way under the guise of teasing, but you know better.

Still, guilt eats at you as your eyes lock with Chan’s. You should’ve stayed silent, as you’ve been diligently doing for the past year.

"How do you stand being her friend Chan? Is it out of pity?" Han muses, a pout pulling at his lips. You stare ahead as Han tsks lightly, before tapping your cheek with his pen, bringing your face back to him. "I think it is. Because isn’t she so fucking boring?"

Being near Han always makes you hyper-aware of things you never noticed before. Like how a breath has to travel from the depths of your body so you’d be able to release it, and how excruciatingly long it takes for you to draw in a new one. Because Han’s words are never harmless, no, they settle on the confines of your lungs, crushing down any bit of oxygen willing to leave you.

You've had enough.

"When you’re eighty, on your deathbed, and all alone. I hope you know that there is no one around to blame but yourself."

"Don’t cross the line, yn," Chan finally speaks and you scoff, as you get up to grab your things.

"What fucking line, Chan? So, he can insult me all day but as soon as I do it there is a line? Why are you taking his side?"

Chan stays silent and you chuckle dryly. "Of course, you are. You’re only friends with me out of pity after all."

"That’s not true-"

"Well, you didn’t deny it, did you Chan?"

"Yn, I-"

"Save it."

Han’s eyes are glossy as you take one final glance at him. But your heart’s bleeding too much for you to care about his minor cut.

☄༄

For how much time can a conversation haunt someone? Seventeen days, for your case. And you're still counting.

You have nit-picked your fight with Han in the library so much that it's driving you insane. His voice is drilled into your head- the coldness of it as he reeled back from the shock of your words, and then, the pure venom dripping from his tone, as he attacked you where it hurt the most. Chan.

Han chose his words carefully, stitched up the sentence perfectly to hurt you, to stick to your flesh like burnt skin, one that you peeled over and over, each time it threatened to scar.

You haven't talked to Chan in seventeen days. He tried to stop you; on your way out of class, in the line of your campus cafeteria, on the doorsteps of your dorm. But you always fleet away. His eyes were also imprinted into your brain- the disappointment in them when you clapped back at Han.

What about him? You wanted to yell. Why are you only disappointed in me?

But the tears in your pillow have dried. Then fallen again. Then dried once more. And you found the answer to question five. And you miss Chan, terribly so.

That's why you're pacing around his dorm, at 10 pm, when it's also terribly cold outside. Your fingers have gone numb from the ministrations of the wind, but you don't move from your place. You know that the chances of seeing Han- the second person you’ve been avoiding like the plague- would be higher here. But you didn't care anymore.

Your thumb hovers over the call button and you bite your lip harshly. Would Chan pick up? Would he hang up? Was he really your friend out of pity?

"Yn?" a voice calls out, and you startle, turning around to see who it is. Changbin, carrying two bags of groceries in his hand. He's Chan’s friend as well, the final member of 3racha. You like Changbin. He's always being very kind to you. You've grown much closer to him than to Han in the past few months; not that the latter has ever wanted a friendship with you. From the day you met and his eyes narrowed promptly each time you talked. You should’ve known from the start.

"Why are you out here in the cold?" Changbin asks gently, stepping cautiously towards you.

"Chan," you say simply and he nods, understanding what you mean.

"He's not here now, but he'll come home soon. Let's go inside, okay?" he smiles tentatively at you and you hum in reply.

Changbin opens the door and you follow inside. You help him take out the groceries silently, stacking them in their fridge and shelves. Lots of protein powder, and chicken packets. You'd laugh about it if you weren't so sad.

"Chan misses you," Changbin speaks up suddenly, and your heartbeat quickens at his words.

"I miss him too."

"Then you'll be okay."

You try to remember Changbin’s reassuring smile when Chan finally opens the door to the dorm, an hour later. He finds you sitting on the stool in the kitchen. His eyes light up once they settle on you.

And you unravel at the sight.

You're crying, sobs rippling from you as he brings you to his chest. He's patting your head and whispering that it's okay. And you know his shirt is all crumpled from clutching it in your hands. But he doesn't mind. He only hugs you tighter.

"I'm sorry, yn. So, so, sorry. I should've stopped him before, I just... You two are my best friends and I didn't want to add fuel to the fire by talking and-"

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm the one who should apologize for ghosting you."

"I understand why you did it. I fucked up but I missed you so much. Can we please never do this again?”

“Yes please,” you giggle, but the sound withers as the door opens once again.

"What is she doing here?" a cold voice breaks you and Chan apart, as your eyes land on Han. His gaze sucks the breath out of you, and the warmth in your heart fizzles out. Your hold on Chan’s shirt tightens and he takes an unconscious step in front of your body. Han doesn't miss the protective gesture.

"Get out, yn."

"You don't get to kick my friends out of my house," Chan is angry. And you regret ever coming here.

"Last I checked it's my house too." Han doesn't even bother looking at you. He's holding Chan’s gaze as if they're silently communicating. "You know damn well what she said why-" he takes a deep breath, running a hand angrily through his hair. "Fuck this. If she's not leaving then I am."

And with that he storms out, slamming the door behind him. You flinch at the sound.

Chan’s eyebrows are knitted as he stares at where Han stood seconds ago as if trying to conjure him up once again. You never wanted to strain their friendship. You knew how much Han cared for Chan, even if he didn't bear the same sentiment for you.

"Chan, I’ll leave. Call Han and tell him I'm gone."

"You don't have to."

"I know," you reassure, placing your hand on his forearm. "We'll talk more later, okay? It's cold and he has nowhere to go. Just call him, please."

"Fine," Chan concedes. "Call me when you get home, alright?" his eyes finally soften and you squeeze his hand in reply, before heading out as well.

The walk from Chan’s dorm to yours is fairly short, but tonight, it seems like kilometers are separating you from the safety of your bed. There is a heavy weight crushing your bones, most of it being guilt at what just transpired between Chan and Han.

That's what comes with being sensitive- you bear the weight of your feelings and the one of those surrounding you.

Were you out of place with what you said to Han? Yes. Was it eating you inside to see the consequences of your words? Yes. But he was also to blame, you repeated in your head. He was also to blame. Please. You plead, you don't know to whom, maybe to the voice in your head to stop being so mean. 'But none of this would've happened if you weren't so sensitive. So easy to bruise' the voice mocks and you stumble on your feet.

It happens so suddenly it takes you off guard- the way the breath is knocked out of you. You pause, chest heaving as you bend down slightly. Your hand is on your heart as you try to breathe again, but it's shaking so much. Your legs give out under you, and you plop down on the floor, eyes tightly shut. You can't breathe. You can't breathe. You're going to pass out.

"Yn, what-" A hand rests on your shoulder but you shake it off. You don't want to be touched. Not by him.

"Let me help-" Han speaks again, and you scramble away from him, as best as you can anyway. You end up kneeling on the ground once again, your back to him. "Get-get away."

"I know you're mad but you aren't okay and I know how horrib-"

"You aren't helping!" you shout through tears, as your heart threatens to spill out of your throat. "You’ve hurt me e-enough already."

You don't remember how you got home that night, how you managed to open the door or cross the road leading to your dorm. But you remember Han leaving you on the cold ground, just like you wanted. You remember the ache in your bones as you laid on your bed; the burning desire to stop feeling for a night, to cut your chest open and tear off your bleeding heart.

☄༄

One month later

If there's one thing you've always complained to Chan about, it's the fact that his building had an elevator in it, unlike yours.

Today, you’ve come to regret this fact. Tremendously.

You’ve been avoiding going to Chan’s dorm for the past weeks since the last thing you wanted was to see Han. But, he insisted on you coming over, reassuring you that it would only be him and Changbin at home since Han supposedly had other plans.

Well, Chan was wrong. Because Han just walked into the elevator you are in, mere moments before its doors closed.

Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes lock on yours. He looks like he wants to say something but he decides against it, opting for sighing loudly instead, before pressing the button leading to the fourth floor, rather harshly.

Your need to flee has never been this strong.

You watch anxiously as the numbers slowly go up. 1… 2… 3… Then a loud voice startles you and the elevator starts to shake in place. The door is suddenly opened and you are met with a cement wall, blocking your exit.

"What the fuck?" Han groans as you press the emergency button repeatedly, hoping that the elevator will resume its course and this nightmare will be forgotten.

It doesn’t.

"You’re going to break the goddamn button," Han pushes your hand away and you stumble away from him.

"Can you shut up? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit."

"Does it look like I’m happy to be here?" Han scoffs, as a ringtone plays in the elevator, cutting you off before you could respond.

"Hey guys, this happens from time to time, so no need to worry. Is everyone alright?" Someone speaks and you assume it's the worker charged with the maintenance of the elevator.

"Yes," you both reply at the same time.

"Great. We’ve contacted the mechanics but they said there’s a lot of traffic, so it might take a bit longer for them to get here."

"How long?" Han asks the question that’s on your mind as well.

"Two hours, at most, for you to get out."

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," you groan, as hot tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. This is the last thing you needed today- to be stuck in a cramped-up space with the one person who sucks the oxygen out of any room you’re in.

"Thanks, man," Han sighs and you turn your back to him, facing the wall. You’ve had a horrible day, scratch that, a horrible week. Hanging out with Chan and Changbin was the one thing you were looking forward to, only for the worst possible scenario to happen- being stuck in the same place with Han. You feel an urgent need to sob but you can’t cry in front of him. Not when he’s all claws and your skin is tender.

"Wait, are you claustrophobic?" He suddenly asks, seemingly inches away from your body.

"As if you’d fucking care," you scoff, before heading to a corner of the elevator and settling down.

"I'm not a monster, you know," he mutters in an almost sad tone, one that forces you to look up at him. His hands are deep into his pockets, eyebrows knitted as he gazes down at you. "Do you really think I’m that much of an asshole?"

"Yes," you reply instantly, before staring forward again. The hurt that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t tug at your heartstrings, but it does, ever so faintly, like the last wave that grazes your feet as you get out of the ocean. "I’m not claustrophobic," you add after a while and Han finally sits on the opposite side from you.

It’s hot and stuffy in the elevator, and it’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. You’ve never really liked silence for too long, it made the small voice in your head only grow bolder, louder, impossible to ignore.

Thirty-five excruciatingly long minutes go by and the tension only grows more suffocating. It’s simmering, barely beneath the surface, waiting for the person who will finally make it explode.

It’s Han.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“Come on, we have nothing else to do.”

“Have you tried being silent?”

"Yn," he says sternly and you begrudgingly concede. "Fine. Ask me."

You imagine him smirking slightly, the way he does each time he manages to push you over the edge.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“We’re not doing this right now,” you shake your head, tone adamant.

"When’s a better time for it? We’re literally never in the same place."

“And whose fault that is?” You smile too sarcastically and he frowns. “So, I’m the only one to blame?”

“Can’t you see how full of yourself you are? Fuck, Han, this is exactly what I hate about you.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You’re so immature, you never sit back to think of how your words might impact someone.”

"What words yn? I was teasing you!" his voice grows louder and so does yours. "You were hurting me!" you yell, chest heaving. There is something utterly terrifying in this confession- to let someone know how easy it was for them to get to you.

"But I didn’t mean to," he drags a hand through his hair, exasperated. "It's not my fault you felt that way."

An ironic chuckle leaves your lips, as you point at him. "See, you're doing it again! You're blaming me for my reaction instead of evaluating how your actions might have caused it."

"Look, yn," he scrambles to you until there are only a few centimeters separating your bodies. "I really wanna fix this, okay? Can we stop screaming?"

"Why are you so hellbent on fixing it?" you question, as you lean further away from him. He notices and takes a step back, giving you space.

"Because although I don't care about you, I care about Chan. And this is hurting him. So, I want to be civil with you."

The mention of Chan feels like a cold bucket of water dousing the fire within you. You know he’s struggling to be in the middle of two people he loves. He doesn’t deserve that.

"Fine," you sigh softly. “You talk. I’ll listen.”

"I didn't... I didn't know that my words would hurt you. In truth, it looked like you weren't affected at all. That's why I kept pushing you because… God Yn you're so perfect it maddens me."

Your eyebrows knit together at his words- the last thing you expected to stumble out of his mouth. "What are you talking about?"

"You never get sad, never get angry. Your emotions are always in check. You're always smiling, always laughing. Have everything figured out from how you want to be now to where you want to be in the future. And you know yourself, you never step out of order. And this is selfish and stupid but it irked me. Because I am the opposite of you. I'm a mess and too human it terrifies me, so I wanted to see if you had a breaking point. But each time I taunted you, you remained placid. So, I kept pushing to see if you'd break one day because, selfishly enough, that would make me feel better about how broken I am."

"Han, you're so stupid. Aren't you a literal genius? You excel in everything you do and you have fun on top of it, every single night. Don't you realize how lucky you are?"

"Do you really believe I find joy in being wasted and not even remembering what happened that night? I do that because I'm in my mind most of the days and it isn't the best place to be in. So, I like to forget."

“Why do you think I always bury myself in my studies? Because it's safe and it makes me forget too. Did you really think I didn’t feel? I feel too much and that’s the problem.”

Han remains silent as you curse under your breath. "Do you even realize how selfish this is? To test a human's breaking point? All because what? I didn't shove my struggles down your nose? Would you go around and do this to everyone who looked fine to you?"

"I know, I know, I was just in a bad place, and this isn't an excuse but I... I felt as if you were just showing me everything that was wrong with me."

"That is how I felt around you," you chuckle bitterly and he hangs his head low. He’s much quieter when he speaks again. “I guess we’re more similar than I thought.”

"Doesn't excuse what you did. You targeted me and made me feel insane because no one was hearing the hostility in your tone like I did."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I really am. I never thought it'd get this bad and I deserve every name you called me."

"You do." You close your eyes, as Han’s words wash over you. There is so much more you want to say, so much you want to spit out in his face because of his selfish coping mechanism. But you also want peace, for Chan’s sake. So, you try to bury your resentment, just like you do with every other feeling. One day it’ll turn into indifference. You’ll make sure of it.

You bite your lip, before clearing your throat. Your tone is softer when you speak again. "I'm sorry for what I told you in the library. About you dying alone and whatnot. That wasn't nice of me."

"You really hit the nail with that one," Han chuckles quietly, and guilt floods your heart at the expression on his face. "And I'm sorry for calling you boring. You aren't. And for everything I said before that."

"Okay. It's okay." You reassure, a tiny smile drawn on your lips.

He nods before a sly grin grows on his face. "Should we hug it out?" he teases, cocking an eyebrow at you and you stare pointedly at him. "Don't push your luck."

"Yes, ma'am."

An hour later, the mechanics finally manage to get the elevator going, which in turn allows you both to get out. Han opens the door to the dorm, and you find Chan lying on the couch, scrolling down his phone.

"Han? I thought you would..." he starts before trailing off as he looks up. "Yn? Where were you, I’ve been calling you for the past two hours."

"I didn't have signal."

"Why where were-" Chan goes to question before stopping once again. He hurriedly stands up and walks toward you.

"You... Are standing next to one another."

"We are," Han replies, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

"And you aren't... Fighting?" his statement comes out more like a question, which makes both you and Han chuckle.

"We aren't."

"We talked it out, in the elevator which we were both just stuck in," you add and Chan’s eyes grow wide, as a breathtaking smile breaks out on his face.

"Oh my god. Finally. We'll talk about the elevator bit later but it's been so hard trying not to be in the same place as the both of you."

"We know. We're sorry," you both pout in sync and Chan shakes his head, before opening his arms wide. You giggle, before walking to him and sinking into his embrace. Han follows you shortly after, and your eyes meet behind Chan’s back. He shoots you a tiny thumbs up.

Is this how a dandelion feels, you wonder, when someone blows on it in the hopes it'll grant their selfish wishes. Only to be tossed away afterward, lifeless.

You drown out the thought before smiling back at Han. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

☄༄

Befriending two-thirds of 3racha holds within it a lot of privileges. The first one is listening to unreleased music, the second is having exclusive insight into their upcoming performances.

Their gigs don't happen as often as they'd like, because they're still students who unfortunately have lots of assignments. But when a window of free time materializes, they unveil their latest productions at vibrant parties, dimly lit bars, or even the occasional club. Which attracts a lot of people, some even coming from neighboring towns to listen to them play.

Everyone can recognize raw talent, even if rap doesn't happen to be their favorite genre.

This is how you know that they'll be performing Heyday, their latest creation, at Seungmin’s party. You've met him in passing, and Chan insisted that you'd come. Not that you needed much convincing anyway, you fell in love with this song the minute you heard it.

There is an exhilarating energy in Seungmin’s mansion, a palpable anticipation preceding 3racha’s performance, as you all gaze at the makeshift stage. The place is packed, bodies pressed tightly to one another. You feel slightly uncomfortable but you swallow it down. You're here to support Chan first and foremost, you can leave if things become too much for you.

The introductory chords materialize abruptly, and 3racha takes the stage. Chan is clad in a white shirt with huge gaps on his sides, revealing glimpses of his chest each time he bends down. Changbin, on the opposite end of the spectrum, is wearing a tightly fitted black shirt, hugging each muscle of his to perfection. Han, the last one to walk in, sports a loose black shirt, with a low neckline. His nails are painted to match the color of his attire, you notice.

The song kicks off with Changbin's incendiary rap as deafening cheers ring all around you. You make sure to scream on top of your lungs too, as Changbin’s loud voice commands the attention of everyone in the room. You’ve always held a penchant for his rap style- how powerful he sounds, and how addicted you quickly become to hearing him on stage. You remember once telling him that any song that starts with his rapping is a successful hit. He playfully nudged your shoulder but his appreciative smile was hard to miss.

Chan’s part is next and you try to rap along, as best as you can anyway due to your fleeting memory. It sounds mostly like gibberish but you don’t mind, especially when your eyes meet Chan’s and he grins at you, before morphing into the mesmerizing stage persona that's peculiar to him. You clearly remember the first time you witnessed him on stage, and how enthralled you were by the sheer power he exuded. His destiny was intertwined with music, no one could deny that.

A bed squeaking sound comes next, followed by the knocking on the door and you giggle against your will. That was Han’s ingenious touch, as Chan had shared when you'd raised a quizzical brow at him while listening. “Is this based on a real-life experience?” You asked, a knowing smirk etched upon your features, and he pretended to zip his mouth, earlobes turning a vibrant shade of crimson.

Han finally starts rapping in his inimitable style, exuding an effortless, laid-back aura. Your gazes meet at the "let's go play" line, and he tilts his head quizzically at you as he utters his confused "huh?". You raise one eyebrow at him prompting a sly smirk from him, before redirecting his attention to the opposite side of the stage. Yet, your eyes remain on him throughout his entire part.

The boys step off the stage, and you watch from the corner of the room with a wide grin as a swarm of people surrounds them. Congratulations and praise fill the air, and you can tell that 3racha thrives on this moment- it's what they live for, what makes their souls rise up from the ashes.

Chan catches your eye, and you applaud enthusiastically, letting out a happy giggle. He blows you a kiss, and you playfully pretend to catch it, eliciting a small shake of his head. Changbin, who's standing near him, catches the exchange and winks at you from a distance, to which you respond with two thumbs up.

Even though you're a bit far from them, you're certain the boys can sense the pride radiating from you in waves. There's something truly magical about humans existing in their element, particularly people you care about.

Your gaze shifts to Han, and your smile falters slightly. He's also glowing, but signs of discomfort are starting to creep onto his face. You recognize them fairly well, as you've felt them too at times when emotions become overwhelming. So, after a brief internal debate, you decide to act and begin making your way toward him, pushing through the crowd despite the rising complaints behind you.

They fall on deaf ears.

You grab Han's forearm, pulling him with you through the sea of bodies toward the bathroom. He doesn't fight, following diligently behind you. You open the door and pull him inside, pausing as you realize you don't have a specific plan for bringing him here. This is also the first time you've been alone together since the elevator conversation.

"Thank you," Han whispers, and you nod, your eyes softening. "I'm okay, I love performing, I just needed a breather," he quickly adds, as if feeling guilty for being overwhelmed.

"That's completely understandable. You are running on a lot of adrenaline, and the room is so crowded," you say with a smile, turning to the mirror to touch up your makeup.

Han remains silent for a while as you powder your face, before reapplying your cherry lip gloss. You can hear him taking in deep breaths, and you avoid looking at him, worried he might feel embarrassed.

"What did you think of the performance?" he finally asks, and you raise your head slightly. You lock eyes with him through the mirror, as he leans against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. His black t-shirt falls a bit, revealing more of his bare skin, and your eyes trail down for a moment.

"It was really good. I think this song might be my favorite of all yours."

"Really?" Han grins, his words filled with an excitement that warms your heart despite yourself. He's just received heaps of compliments from hundreds of people, yet your words still seem to affect him deeply.

"Yes. I loved your rap, how it started in a laid-back manner, and then you cleared your throat and picked up the pace. It added a unique edge to the song."

"Thank you, really," his smile is genuine, and you giggle softly, shaking your head.

"What's funny?" he asks, walking up to you. You're still facing the mirror, and he's now only inches away from you.

"I didn't imagine you'd appreciate my compliment this much."

"It feels sincere," he shrugs and you nod, finally turning around and leaning against the sink.

"It is sincere."

"Good."

You hold his gaze, eyes only trailing down to go across his face. He looks far different from how he did on stage. Shier, more eager for praise.

"You have..." he steps up until the scent of his cologne tickles your nose. His hand raises ever so slowly to your face, and you hold your breath, as he picks up something from your cheek. His hands are warm.

"An eyelash fell. Make a wish."

A surprised chuckle escapes your lips. "You wish on fallen lashes?"

"You wish on everything when you need hope." his voice is low, a timber so foreign to your ears it sends shivers down your spine. So, you close your eyes, wishing for your heart to quit beating so fast.

"Done," you whisper and he blows the single lash away, his gaze still on you.

"Thank you for coming."

"Of course. I had to support Chan and Changbin." It slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and Han slightly recoils from your words.

"Right, them. Yeah. Of course," he finally backs away, and oxygen fills your lungs once again. "I'm good now. Should we go out?"

"After you," you nod tightly and he walks ahead first, his perfume trailing after him and pulling you into a dizzying dance.

☄༄

The party Seungmin hosted was your last time having fun for a while. Your preparation for midterm exams began soon after, and you found yourself swarmed with assignments left and right. Thankfully, you and Chan were going through it at the same time, which meant you met at the library each day, revising silently near one another.

Except this time, you were joined by Han.

Goosebumps ran across your skin as he pulled the chair next to you, not the good kind of shivers. You were reminded of the fight you had right here, three months ago. Which still left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You don't hate Han anymore. He's actually funny, and you enjoy listening to his ramblings when you go over to Chan's dorm. He's also really different in his home, much quieter, and softer. Much more like you.

But you're also human, and there is still a part of your brain sending off warning signals at his presence. Maybe because the hurt was never buried properly. You just brushed it off under the carpet after your elevator conversation. Most of it was spent shouting anyway.

"Hey," he greets and you just nod in reply. You can feel his gaze linger on you a bit after that, and a pang of guilt twists in your heart. "Hi," you finally reply, but you tune out his response. Why is it that you're sensitive to everyone's emotions but your own?

Twenty minutes go by, then forty, and you can no longer take the uncomfortable feeling clinging to your skin. So, you excuse yourself, hurriedly stepping out of the library.

Han follows you; you can tell it’s him because someone's chair scraped loudly against the floor as soon as you stood up, and that couldn't be Chan because he is always careful with the silence in the library. So, you put on your headphones and walk faster.

This is childish, surely it is, but you can't control your emotions. You've apologized and so did he, you talk from time to time and you even held his arm and took him to a quiet bathroom. So where is all this bitterness coming from?

"Dammit, yn, how are you so fast?" Han grabs your arm pausing you. He's panting slightly and you just blankly stare as he takes in a deep breath.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks and you nod, turning around to walk away. He stops you again.

"I made you uncomfortable, didn't I?" he asks quietly, and you sigh, rubbing your forehead wearily.

"You didn't do anything, I just... Being in that library reminded me of certain things."

"I know. Me too. Can we please talk?"

"We are talking," you raise your brows and he stares pointedly at you. "Come on you know what I mean."

"Fine," you giggle, "we can talk."

"I didn't apologize properly to you in the elevator. Truth is, I did it because Chan was mad at me and I couldn't stand it anymore."

The bitterness- you understand where it comes from now.

"But I am sorry. Truly sorry. I was selfish and I hurt you and this will sound like a joke, but I hate hurting people. I really do. I was just too wrapped up in my problems that I didn't realize how it would affect you and I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I also shouldn't have tried to kick you out that day, but dying alone is my biggest fear, and seeing you in my home made me want to lose my mind because I couldn't get what you said out of my head, but it was so cold outside and again I shouldn't have told you to go out and I am so sorry-"

"Han, breathe," you smile, cutting him off and Han sucks in a deep breath, chest slightly heaving from talking uninterrupted for a minute straight.

"I'm sorry I just wanted to apologize, properly this time. I'm doing it because I'm guilty, not because of Chan. Nothing excuses my behavior, I know. And I wish I could turn back in time and actually get to know you because you're really cool and very nice, but I can't. All I can do is apologize. So I'm sorry, Yn. I really am."

"I appreciate it," you smile, and Han exhales a little from relief. "I didn't know that was your biggest fear, but even if it wasn't, that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have said something so mean. So, I'm sorry for it too. But I'm not apologizing for being mad, you deserved that."

"I did, I did, I know." He's quick to agree. "I don't want us to be awkward around one another. I'm not telling you that you have to be my best friend but, we can be friends, right? But you also don't have to. It's enough if you forgive me and... You know what? Never mind forget I said anything, I'm just nervous and-"

"Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats.

"We can be friends. I accept your truthful apology."

"Actually?"

"Yes."

"Like we can start over?" he grins and you chuckle at the excitement in his face. "Yes."

"Can we hug it out?"

"Too soon," you pout and he nods, a faint blush dusting his cheek.

"Right. Should we go back to the library? I saw that you were stuck on a question. I can help you."

"You won't make any comments?"

"No. Pinky promise." he outstretches his pinky towards you and you muse over it for a bit, before wrapping your finger around his. You grin at Han- your first genuine smile since he's known you. His hold on your pinky falters.

"Okay. I'm in."

.☄༄

Five weeks later- 1:13 a.m.

You were still slightly cautious near Han as if you were both threading along an invisible line. You could talk, but not too much, afraid any old animosity would shine through. And you could stay together, but not too long, in case it gets awkward and you wouldn't know what to do. So, you never mixed, just like water and oil, each of you knowing their place, away from the other.

But you still didn't want to miss out on outings with your friends. So, when Chan invites you for a movie night with Han, and Changbin, you don't say no.

The night runs smoothly, the warm beer you had easing your nerves bit by bit. It was also easier to forget that you once hated Han when he brought tears to your eyes from laughing so hard.

2:56 a.m.

An unbearable heat suddenly envelopes you, your very blood boiling from within. You hesitantly look down, to find your entire body bathed in red, as if your skin had melted away, exposing you to the scorching heat embracing your tender flesh.

You are in the heart of a volcano, with lava bubbling dangerously below. Hanging by a frail thread, you dangle over the edge of death.

And then, you plummet.

You startle awake, your heart pounding in your chest, your hand clutching it tightly. Cold sweat clings to your skin, and it takes you a few moments to realize that you're safe, far from the inside of the volcano that had threatened to consume you.

You glance at your phone- 3:43 a.m. You read. It's only been a mere hour since you went to sleep. You don't think you could drift back into slumber.

Dragging a hand tiredly across your face, you walk into the pitch-black kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of water, hoping that the icy drink will cool you down. You are safe.

"What are you-" you startle, dropping the glass and spinning around, hand pressed to your heart.

"Han, fuck, you scared me," you sigh, tugging at your hair slightly and he's quick to your side, a string of hushed apologies tumbling from his lips.

"I'm sorry, here let me clean it up," he kneels and you follow suit, grabbing his hands and gently pushing them away. "No, I dropped it, let me clean," you reassure, but your hands are trembling as you pick up the shards of glass, any bit of logic clouded by your racing thoughts.

Your heartbeat's ringing loudly in your ears, you barely register the glass cutting your skin until an uncharacteristic warmth oozes from your hand. Blood.

"Shit," you curse lowly and Han illuminates the place with his phone flashlight. "Did you cut yourself?" he asks and you shake your head, walking over to the sink.

"It's nothing, don't worry."

"Yn, let me see," he's standing behind you, the ghost of his breath grazing your exposed neck.

"Han, really it's-" he cuts you off, grabbing your forearm and walking you over to the couch. He finally turns on the lights before crouching down in front of you.

"Show me?" he asks gently and you're too tired to fight him. You open your palm tentatively, taking a look at your cut for the first time as well. It's not too deep, it won't require stitches. But it's also not shallow, blood oozing from it at a steady rhythm.

Han simply frowns upon gazing at your wound, before walking over to his room. You don't move from your spot, gaze lost into the space before you. What would happen if you never woke up? Would you feel your flesh burning? Bones melting as the searing lava-

"Here," he gently holds your wrist, as his eyes meet yours. "This will hurt a bit. Hold my arm as tight as you want and tell me if it becomes too much, okay?"

"Okay," you simply nod.

He dabs up your cut with a cotton pad soaked in alcohol. You hiss softly, as the liquid burns your open skin. Han abruptly stops at the sound. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry I didn't mean to I just-"

"It's okay," you smile reassuringly, "I can handle it."

Han nods, resuming his treatment. He's even softer this time, if that is even possible. He's careful when he rubs a soothing gel on your cut, before wrapping your palm in a gauze. He can't find a pair of scissors so he cuts it with his teeth, his lips brushing against the back of your hand. You account the warmth you're suddenly feeling to the aftermath of your nightmare.

"Why are you even up?" he finally asks as he settles next to you on the couch, eyes looking up to the ceiling.

"Nightmare."

"You’re okay?" he asks gently and he sounds truly concerned for your well-being. You aren't used to this. To Han acting like a friend to you. But it feels nice to be cared for, so you don't mind him blurring the lines tonight.

"I'm still a little bit scared," you admit sheepishly and Han's eyes soften under the dim moonlight.

"It passed. You're okay now."

"Am I?" you drag a hand tiredly across your face and Han frowns, inching closer to you.

"Is it a recurring dream?"

"Mm. It tires me out."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I just want to forget." 'Help me forget' you want to add, but you decide against it. "Why were you up, anyway?"

"I got inspiration for lyrics so I had to write it down."

"Can you share some with me?" you ask, tone a tad too hopeful. Han catches it and smiles warmly at you.

"Sure. This is probably going to be in the chorus..." he pulls out his phone, heading to his notes app. "This is what I have so far... I let my frustrated screams out hoping that they’d be washed away in the rain. I send it off with a smiling face, down to the last drops left on my fingertips." he pauses, scrolling down a bit more. "I also wrote this; I think it'll be nice in a verse... I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

"You're such a talented lyricist Han," you whisper in awe, and Han’s cheeks warm up at your words, reminiscent of a setting sun. "But I also wish it was as easy as this. To let out all the emotions you bottle inside and for them to wash away with the rain." You bite your lip, as Han’s words echo in your head. "I think... I think that's why I get this nightmare. I don't free my emotions anymore, and they show up in my dreams to torment me."

You don't know where these bouts of honesty are coming from. Maybe because you're too weary to keep up a happy facade. Or maybe because you know that the person who wrote these lyrics must understand exactly how you feel.

"Well... It's raining." Han whispers after a while and you look at him, confusion plastered across your features.

"And?"

"Should we test it out?"

"Test what?"

"Screaming under the rain," he says as if it's the most evident thing in the world.

"What? That's insane, Han we will get sick and..." You pause, as the words dissolve in your mouth like the seafoam meeting the shore. "You know what? Let's do it!"

"Really?" he asks incredulously, a huge grin on his face.

"Yes!"

"Okay, let's go!"

You both abruptly stand up, still only clad in your pajamas. You quickly slip your shoes on before running outside. The rain envelops you in a cold hug as soon as you step outside, rain droplets trickling down your clothes. You don't mind, you have lots of bottled-up feelings to free.

"This needs music," Han smiles as he takes out his phone, putting his playlist on shuffle. 'Let The Light In' starts playing, and you shoot him a thumbs-up.

"It fits the rainy mood," you grin and he nods, squinting his eyes to be able to look at you.

"I think if we scream here, we'll scare the neighbors."

"I know!" you chuckle, wiping away the rain droplets on your forehead. "Where should we go?"

"The empty parking lot!" Han shouts so you'll hear him over the growing rain and you nod. He takes off running and you chase after him. You're both completely drenched once you're a bit far away from the house. But you don't care. Not when there is pure adrenaline rushing through you.

You finally stop, loud giggles escaping your mouth at the thrill of what you're doing. "You should start!" you yell excitedly and Han nods, taking in deep steadying breaths.

"Okay, I'm ready!"

"On the count of three! One... Two... Three!" and Han shouts at the top of his lungs, his screams getting lost in the rain. An incredulous smile breaks out on his face as you giggle loudly, the sound of it ringing out in the downpour.

"You looked insane!"

"I feel insane!" He yells honestly and a fit of laughter takes over you both. You hold his arm to steady yourself.

"You should try it now!" Han urges and you nod, willing yourself to calm down.

"Okay, will you count down for me?"

"Yes," he assures and you clap excitedly. Han can't help but smile at the excitement on your face.

"One... Two... Three!" And you shout, continuous screams spilling from the depths of your soul. Han wasn't wrong- your pain, your fear, your anger are all dripping along the rain droplets, from your bruised heart to the tip of your fingers.

You've never felt this free before.

The two of you don't notice the passage of time, the rain acting as a cathartic release to all your pent-up emotions. It was as if your pain intertwined with each rain droplet, and you were letting go of everything that had held you down. Each scream acted as a break from the burdens of the past, and the worries of the future.

As you finally stopped, panting and soaked to the bone, you looked at each other with raw exhilaration in your eyes.

"So, how was it?" Han yells over the rain and you break out in a relieved smile. "I don't think I’ve ever been this happy my entire life," you beam at him and the sight makes the rain feel less colder to Han.

He watches, a small smile on his face as you twirl around, face looking up toward the sky, a deluge of rain grazing your cheeks like a lover's tender touch. The smile doesn't leave your face as you spin around, happy chuckles leaving your mouth from time to time.

You look... free. As if there was an invisible weight on your shoulders that the rain washed away. A heavy burden that you carried within you, like a secret secret. He likes the sound of that. Maybe that's what he'll name his song.

Han slightly shakes his head as he watches you skip around, clothes completely soaked. You are now standing a bit far away, right beside a street lamp.

Ooh, let the light in

Its light shines on you alone.

Time seems to slow down, as Han’s steps falter. You're smiling, not at him, but at the universe. A happiness so raw filling you that it needs to come out, even if no one's watching.

You're spinning around, delighted giggles spilling from you like the most mesmerizing chorus. Something is building up inside Han, begging for a release. It refuses to come out in a scream- violently. It's tender and soft. He thinks that if you held his hand right now, you'd be able to free it.

Look at us, you and I back at it again

Is it possible to feel something other than an emotion? Because right now, weirdly, all he feels is you.

Cause I love to love to love to love you

I hate to hate to hate to hate you

Your eyes land on Han and there is pure joy dancing in your pupils. He's glad you no longer despise him. He doesn't think he can stomach it anymore.

Cause I want to want to want to want you

You run to him, holding his hand before twirling him around.

I need to need to need to need you

Han can't believe he ever thought you weren't human enough. You are a mosaic of every feeling that makes one human. There are lyrics writing themselves in his head and they're all about you.

Ooh, let the light in

You clasp both his hands, before crossing them over. And then you're both spinning around until the world around you blurs. All he sees is you, and the light surrounding you alone.

Ooh, turn your light on

He thinks he might, if the light is you.

5:22 a.m

"There is a heater in my room, you should come," Han offers as you dry your hair with the blue towel he just handed you.

"It's okay I’ll stay here," you point to the couch but he shakes his head adamantly. "You'll die from hypothermia. Do you know how mad Chan will be if I let you pass away?" he whispers in fear, a hand clutching his heart.

"So dramatic," you giggle, before following him into his room. He goes on his bed first before tapping the spot beside him. You sigh before lying next to him, snuggling further into the hoodie he gave you to change.

"You're still shivering," he remarks, as your teeth clink together.

"It's okay."

"You shouldn't have gone out with just a t-shirt."

"I didn't exactly plan on this, you know," you smile sarcastically and Han chuckles before tapping your shoulder softly.

"Come closer."

You debate for a second before complying, the cold tuning out all the rational thoughts in your head.

Your arm brushes against his and you can't breathe once again. But it's a different type of deprivation. Han always seems to steal the oxygen from your lungs, but for once, you don't mind. Red embers are burning within you and their flames keep you alive. You press your chest to his back, as your forehead rests on his shoulder. Maybe he'll turn you to ashes. Will you rise from them?

"You're so cold," his hand reaches behind to rub your arms soothingly, an earnest attempt to warm you up.

"I’ll be fine, go to sleep. Don't worry about me."

"I can't control it."

In the dark room, Han can't see you curling your hand into a tight fist at his words.

"If you stay quiet then I’ll sleep," you say after a while and Han giggles softly.

"That's the goal. You need to rest."

"You should sleep too."

"I will."

"Okay. Good night, Han."

"Good night, Yn."

You think he's fallen asleep when you speak up again. "Hey, Han."

"Yes, Yn?" He replies instantly, voice slightly hoarse.

"Can you repeat that lyric to me, about the flowers blooming again?" You ask quietly, and you feel him nodding against your chest.

"I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

His warm voice vibrates within your body. "That's a nice lyric."

"I hope you'll dream of it instead."

☄༄

Against Han’s strong belief, he's the one who fell sick after your rain-soaked outing.

You knew of it from Chan, who texted you saying that Han caught a nasty cold, and then got food poisoning, which meant he couldn't be there for their highly anticipated meeting—after their electrifying Heyday performance, a record label expressed strong interest in signing them.

"Can you come over and stay with Han?" Chan implores as soon as he answers your call.

“That bad?” You ask, a pout pulling at your lips.

"I don't want to leave him alone. He's been really sick for the past week now, and… it's partly your fault"

"I can’t believe you’re guilt-tripping me into coming," you chuckle even though you know he is right. Han wouldn’t have gotten out in the rain if it wasn’t for you.

"I'm sorry it’s just I don't think he's been good, apart from the illness. And I’m worried, and I don’t know I thought maybe you could talk to him. He reminds me of you, in his sadness, so you might understand what's wrong more than me."

You think it over for a second before rising up from your bed.

"I'm coming"

As soon as you step inside their dorm, Chan pulls you for a side hug, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Thank you so much,” he whispers, clearly grateful that you agreed to come. It worries you even more for Han.

“No problem. You can go, I’ll be with him.”

“Thank you, Yn” Changbin smiles before hastily pulling Chan outside the door. You wave them both goodbye.

You cautiously crack open the door to Han’s room, to find it completely engulfed in darkness. The stream of light from the door falls upon Han, who squints his eyes, trying to see who disrupted his fragile peace.

"Hi," you speak softly, finding it a bit odd to raise your voice in such a still room. Han attempts to sit up, before doubling over, hand tightly clutched around his stomach.

You rush to his side, kneeling beside his bed. It's the only lit-up part of the room.

"Still hurts?" you ask, your hand moving in soothing circles on his back. He nods, eyes squeezed shut, and you feel your heart crack at the sight.

"Have you taken any medicine?"

"A few hours ago. I need to eat something before I can take more, but I can't get up to the kitchen."

"Why didn't you tell the boys?"

"Didn't want to be a burden."

"You aren't. I'll make you something to eat. Okay? Try to sleep meanwhile."

"You don't have to," Han shakes his head, his eyes finally meeting yours.

"I know," you smile softly, before exiting the room.

Minutes later, you're back in the room, a bowl of sliced fruit in your hands.

"Do you guys live off protein powder and frozen chicken?" you ask, earning a quiet laugh from Han as he lays his back against the headboard.

"We do. Please save me," he jokes and you laugh, shaking your head. "Good thing I grabbed some fruit before leaving."

"Thank you," he grins, eyes slightly squinting closed.

"Here," you grab a strawberry, bringing it to his lips. His eyebrows raise up in surprise, a sheen layer of sweat coating them. "What? Look at how tightly you're clutching the comforter," you point to his hands and Han sighs, before parting his lips slightly.

His mouth brushes against your fingertips, igniting a cascade of emotions in you. You'll think about what it means later.

You grab a green grape next, feeding it to him gently. A drop of water trickles down the corner of his mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your finger.

"I can- I can do it," Han mumbles, voice wavering like an unpredictable storm. His trembling hands reach for the bowl, but they struggle to hold it right.

"Han, it's okay, I don't mind," you try to keep your voice gentle, sensing that there is an impending doom awaiting just below the surface.

"No, I- I need to do it. Just let me-" A tear falls into the fruit bowl. "Let me do it, please. I can- I can do it, I’m not useless, I…"

The floodgate opens.

A stream of tears escapes Han's eyes as he looks down at the bowl between his hands. He's crying, eyes tightly shut and the small whimpers escaping his lips feel like a dagger piercing your heart.

"You're sick. Let me take care of you."

"It's horrible horrible work." His voice cracks as his eyes finally lock on yours, and you can tell that his anguish isn't about his illness. These are the words of the shadows threatening to swallow him whole. You have to fight them off with the light.

"I will do it."

As Han lays on his bed, the sound of you washing the dishes resonating from the kitchen, your voice bounces off the dark walls in his head. You didn't try to convince him that it was easy work, you told him you'll do it, even if it's horrible. You'll do it because you want to, not because you can, not because it's accessible. The thought sends a warmth in his chest. It's faint, like a flickering candle trying its best to withstand the wind. But it's there. He holds on to it. He'll shield it with his cupped hands so it wouldn't fizzle out.

"Hannie, you’re okay?" you peer into the room. Hannie- the candle's flame grows higher.

"Mm," he hums, too weak to turn and look at you.

"You're shivering," you remark, and he tightens the blanket around his body. "It'll pass."

You stay silent, and he thinks you've left the room. But then he feels the left side of the bed dip, with you climbing tentatively on it.

"This worked last time when I was cold," you smile softly at him, before bringing his head to your chest and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He feels frail and fragile in your embrace. You hug him tighter to you.

"Warming up?" you ask and he nods against your chest. He's burning.

"Try to sleep," you urge quietly, your hand moving to pat his back. "It will pass."

"What if it doesn't?" Han asks faintly. Please don't let the candle die, he wants to plead.

"There is always light at the end of the tunnel."

"What if the tunnel is closed?"

"Then you go back to the start and find a new one," you respond.

"Can I find it later? I'm so tired tonight." His voice is drowsy, sleep already clinging to his achy bones.

"Just rest for now. You did well," you scratch his back lightly, as he nuzzles further into the crook of your neck.

There was never a candle to begin with- you were the light.

☄༄

Had someone told you five months ago that you'd be lying on Han's bed, watching "Howl's Moving Castle" at 2 a.m., you would've thought they were utterly delusional.

Yet, here you are now.

A lot of things had changed since your rainy outing with Han, as if the universe had shifted into alignment, two stars in the sky finally colliding and making way for something new. You saw him under a different light, understanding that no one picks up a dandelion unless they desperately need the solace it provides.

You've grown to care for him, in the course of the past two months. And funnily enough, you've started to like who you were next to him- just yourself, with no pressure of making conversation, or catering to his expectations of you.

He saw you at your worst anyway, and so did you, there was no use in filtering things anymore.

You've been there through the entire process of writing, composing, and producing Secret Secret- the song whose lyrics had captured your heart. You didn't expect him to ask you to be there with him, he just shot you a text, three days after you came over to his house. 'Wanna be there while I work on the song? I know you liked the lyrics.' It was an offer you couldn't pass up on.

You weren't, in your opinion, much help. Han was gifted in the music realm and song-making flowed naturally from him. But he noticed how interested you were in music, so he called you over each time he worked on the song, even asking for your input at times.

That's why, when the song was finally done and released on 3racha's Spotify account, you decided to celebrate by baking him a cake. You may have dropped an eggshell in the batter (you recovered it later on), and the icing's color turned out less vibrant than what you hoped for. But you managed to adorn it with a garden of little flowers, and with store-bought icing, you wrote the words "after the rain flowers will bloom again."

You showed up to the dorm and Changbin pointed you to Han's room, where he had apparently been holed up all day. You shot him a grateful smile, before pushing the door open with your foot.

"What are you doing here?" Han asked, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

"Surprise!" you grinned, pushing the cake his way. "Congrats on making Secret Secret."

"Are you serious?" he chuckled, jumping out of his bed. He peered at the cake, eyes softening as he gazed down at the design.

"You drew a little garden..." he whispered in awe and you nodded, a faint blush creeping up your face.

"I'm glad you recognized what it was. I'm not the best baker," you admit a bit shyly but he shook his head. "It's perfect. I can't believe you did this to celebrate our baby!"

"Your baby," you corrected, although the use of 'our' warmed up your chest, weirdly enough.

"You were here with me every step of the way. She's ours."

"It's a she?" you giggled, and he smiled proudly.

"Mm. Do you accept being her mother?" he mused; hands clasped in front of his heart like he was praying you'd say yes.

"It would be my greatest honor," you nodded solemnly, and he let out a breathy chuckle, grabbing the cake from your hands and setting it on his bed.

"Should we hug it out?" he teased, arms stretched wide but you merely stared at him, unimpressed.

"Come on," he whined, "you can't reject me for the third time. And, in front of our child. On her birthday!" his tone grew louder and you couldn't help but giggle at his mock outrage.

"Try harder."

"Our child won't know what a loving parent relationship is and then she'll seek out unhealthy love from the ones around her and-" you cut him off by finally wrapping your arms around him.

You've always known that being near Han left you breathless, but this time, it felt as though he was breathing life into you. You close your eyes instinctively, as his hold tightens on you. He smells immensely nice, like pinewood and soap. You should've hugged him sooner.

"Thank you," he said quietly, forehead pressed against your shoulder blade.

"You did well," you whisper back.

"We did. She's our child, remember?" he reprimanded and you laughed faintly.

"Yeah, ours."

Hours later, the movie's credits finally roll down, and the finished cake sits idly by Han's desk.

"I should go," you rub your eyes tiredly, and Han stares at you as if you are out of your mind.

"At this hour? Do you want our kid to lose her mom?"

"Han," you drawl, hitting his head with the pillow next to you. "You can't hold me hostage."

"I can, as your husband."

"Since when are we married?"

"Since you agreed to be Secret's mother." Another playful hit to his face.

"Stop attacking my face, how will I get laid then?"

"So, you are cheating on me?" you ask, feigning outrage.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby you're the only one I want." You falter at the nickname before hitting him even harder, matching the tempo of your quickening heartbeat.

"You're crazy," he laughs, grabbing your wrists and pinning you onto the bed. He's hovering over you, eyes hooded with a tender intensity as he gazes down at you.

"Will you stay, please?"

"The couch is uncomfortable," you reply, avoiding his eyes. He lets go of one wrist before holding your chin gently, urging you to look at him.

"You can sleep here. We've done it before."

"You were freezing both times. That's why I did it."

"I'm very cold tonight," he pouts, eliciting a surprised chuckle from you.

"Are you now?"

"Very much so."

"Fine. Only because I don't want you to die from hypothermia."

"Thank you!" he grins excitedly, finally letting go of your wrist. You bring a hand to your flushed cheeks, as he tosses a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in your direction.

"Get changed! There is a spare toothbrush in the cabinet."

You make sure to groan theatrically, before heading into the bathroom, where you splash your face repeatedly with water. You aren't used to this- being a blushy mess, because of Han, nonetheless. It was dizzying you, how things took the complete opposite turn between you and him.

At least, back then you weren't alone in your hate, you couldn't stand being alone in your affection.

So, you'd stop this, whatever feeling that's coursing through you. Tomorrow, you will firmly close the door on the blooming feelings within you. But tonight, you’d both lay on the same bed, arms brushing against one another. It's completely dark and quiet, but there is an entire symphony playing within you.

"Thank you for today," he whispers, turning around and tucking his arm under his head, this way he's facing you.

You mirror his actions, and your fingertips brush against one another. You can't see him but you can feel him. He's everywhere, wrapping around all your senses.

"Thank you for making this song. It's very comforting to me."

"Why is that?" he questions, inching closer to you, you can feel his minty breath fan all over your face.

"I’ve always felt like I carried too many emotions within me. Like a volcano, bubbling over until the day I explode. I never liked feeling this way, so I tried to hide it," you confess softly.

"Like a secret secret."

"Like a secret secret," you repeat, glad that he understands.

"You don't have to hide with me," he says after a few silent beats, and you swallow nervously.

"I know." you lick your lips as the music inside you grows louder. "Still cold?"

"A little."

"Come closer," you beckon, and he complies instantly, wrapping his arm behind your back and drawing your chest close to his. Your legs entangle with one another, as your face lays on the crook of his neck. It's intimate, far more than any time you've done it before. You don't want to sink in his hold in fear of never resurfacing again.

"Good?" he asks, voice tinged with a newfound raspiness.

"Mm," you hum, and he releases a relieved sigh.

You've once read that everything in this universe sings. Every atom's vibration creates a sound, contributing to a grand celestial chorus. It's an unscientific, but lovely thought, to wonder who our hearts sing for.

Right now, it's for Han.

☄༄

The music echoes through your being, an ever-present melody that refuses to fade into silence. Even with no audience to enjoy it.

Han always found his way back to your side, no matter how many times you've tried to distance yourself from him. And you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him, because you were friends, first and foremost. And friends don't abandon one another just because a mere glance at them sprouts a blush across your cheeks.

That's how you find yourself on your way to Han's dorm, for the third time that week. Watching movies together has become your little tradition, for the past few months, and sometimes even Chan joins in. Although he mostly enjoys shooting you a knowing smile, to which you flip him off.

Your phone rings and Han's name illuminates your screen. You smile against your will.

"Can't wait to see me this much?" you singsong and Han's chuckle rings through the phone. It's rich and deep, causing you to tighten your hold on the device.

"Yes. And can you please go to the store? I'm out of snacks."

"What do I get out of it?" you muse, changing directions to the nearest convenience store.

"Snacks."

"Asshole," you giggle on your way to cross the road.

"And my eternal gratitude of course."

"Right, because I can't-" Loud tires screech right beside you and you startle, letting out a loud yelp as you drop your phone.

A hand on top of your heart, you bend down to pick up your fallen device, as the driver gets out of the car that grazed your body, mere inches away from hitting you.

"Are you okay, miss? I'm sorry I didn't see you." The middle-aged man is quick to your side, and you glance at the small kid in his car, willing yourself to calm down for their sake.

"I'm fine. Just a bit startled. Drive more slowly, there is a kid with you."

"I know, I'm sorry," he drags a hand through his stressed features and you couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. "It's okay, don't worry about it. Just pay more attention to the road, okay?"

"Thank you so much. Thank you," he clasps his hand in gratitude before getting back to his car and you wave him off, your heart still wildly beating in your chest.

You head into the convenience store, picking up the snacks you know Han loves before paying for them. But as soon as you step back outside, you spot a disheveled Han crossing the road, sprinting toward the store. His pace quickens upon spotting you.

"What are you..." your question is cut short as his arms wrap around you, pulling you to his chest instantly. You can feel the frantic rhythm of his heart, and you're confused as he pulls away, hands cradling your cheeks and turning your face left and right.

"You're alright, nothing happened to you, right? You’re okay?" he inquires urgently and you let out a confused giggle, as you grab his arm to steady him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I heard the tires screech and you yelled and then you didn't pick up when I called and I thought-" his voice cracks. "I thought something happened to you."

"No, no. I'm okay. Nothing happened, I promise." you reassure, as he brings you to his chest once again, his hand smoothing the top of your hair.

"I was so scared," he kisses your temple, as his thumping heart resounds within your chest. "So terrified that something would happen to you. I thought I'd lose my mind."

"You don't mean that," you shake your head slowly, peeling yourself away from him.

"Can you really not see how much I care about you? How I crave being near you?" his voice raises a slight octave. The music in you picks up.

"How long do I have to pretend to be cold to have you nearby? For god's sake, I'm never cold around you, yn. When I see you, I ignite." He takes in a deep breath, pressing his forehead onto your shoulder. "And I... I couldn't have lived with myself if something happened to you. I... You drive me crazy, Yn. When we became friends it felt like I was stepping inside a home for the first time, and yet I already knew each turn in it."

He grabs your arms, shaking you slightly as his chest heaves up and down. "My darkness recognizes yours and my light is you and you- you think I wouldn't care if anything happened to you?"

He shakes his head as tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. Has his music always been this loud, were you just not listening properly?

"I'm scared because we didn't start well and I understand if a part of your heart still resents me, I do. But I don't think I can pretend anymore. Not with you," his voice softens as his gaze locks on yours.

"Were you pretending too?" He asks, hope dripping from his tone. "Do you feel it too?"

A split second goes by. A candle flickering somewhere. A dandelion plucked from the ground. The shadow of a cloud passing over the sun- and you pick.

"I feel it too. So much that my heart feels like it’s singing for you, Han."

"I'll sing for it in return," he whispers, before crashing his lips onto yours. His hand slides up the back of your neck, drawing you closer. You drop the bags of groceries as you cradle his cheeks, feeling them warm up beneath your touch. You can't believe you've ever disliked your heart for feeling too much, not when the lovely emotions flowing in your heart threaten to burst it at the seams, submerging you in a warmth you've never known before- Han.

Two months later

You have 3 new messages from: hannie

"kept this song a secret from you baby but i wrote it for you so you can't be mad"

"i don't know if you remember but you’ve once told me that you are a volcano. as if that’s something that’s supposed to put me off. well, some people dedicate their lives to studying volcanos. and i would dedicate mine to learning you."

"Volcano.mp3."

Light.

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nanaslutt · 7 months

Text

thinkin abt nanami teaching ino how to touch his pretty little girlfriend (you) and he is a little too into the idea..

MDNI

so maybe ino stretched the truth a bit when he said he had nooo ideaaa how to touch you, he’s just soooo inexperienced

can you blame him tho? the thought of nanami touching his sweet girlfriend while he praises ino for making you feel sooo good, how hes such a natural at this, has his cock fucking twitching in his pants

you were a little confused when ino said he “needed help making you feel good” when he always leaves you a shaking mess, but you can’t lie that you find nanami attractive and the thought of two men spoiling you rotten doesn’t sound half bad…so you didn’t question him

so here he is, between your legs; his tongue deep inside you; you’re laid back against nanamis hard chest and hes holding your leg open with one hand while he rubs your clit with the other, a scene pulled straight out of ino’s filthiest wet dreams

your back is arching and your twitching like crazy, moans slightly muffled as your head is turned into nanamis neck, tears forming on your lashes

“feel good sweetheart?” nanami asks you and there is practically hearts in ino’s eyes when you nod and nanami tells him how fucking good hes doing, telling him not to stop, abandoning his hold on your leg opting to grabbing ino’s hair by the roots and shove his head deeper into your pussy

and he fucking moans into you, eyes rolling back into his head as he humps into the bed not so subtly

making eye contact with nanami, and oh my goddd, he’s trying so hard not to cum in his pants, hes shaking his head back and forth against your wetness, fucking his tongue into you at an inhumane pace

“yesyesyes give it to her ino, you gonna cum baby?” he directs his question your way and you look so sweet, tears streaming down your face now, trying to tell them how close you are but your words keep getting interrupted by your moans :(((

“oh good fucking girl, gooood giiirl, ride his face, let it all out, we got you sweetheart” nanami coos

“𝘸𝘦 got you sweetheart” that was the final straw for ino, reminding him that 𝘯𝘰 this wasn’t a dream, and that the only man he’s ever seeking approval from is here staring into his fucking soul, watching him eat out his adorable girlfriend while he praises him and fuck fuck fuck-

he was amazed he could hold back long enough for you to cum as he whimpers and wines into your pussy, fucking the bed while a wet spot steadily grows on the front of his pants

“ino.” nanami yanks his hair up from where it was resting on the side of your thigh, he winced making eye contact with the older man

“so selfish, i don’t remember saying 𝘺𝘰𝘶 could cum, did i?”

the face ino was wearing looks scared.. almost remorseful, but his flushed face and heaving chest paired with his own rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears gave away his true feelings

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mncxbe · 2 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: age gap relationship, old men fantasizing about their younger colleagues, itty bitty smut, dilfs

Men who are reluctant to ask you out because they don't wanna come across as creeps. They know how unusual it is for a man their age to be interested in a younger woman, but they just can't help it. You're so pretty, cheerful and kind, their little ray of sunshine.

Men who know you're at their beck and call and always make the most of it– be it for asking you to bring them a coffee or simply helping them write a report. Anything just to hear you say "yes sir" in that sweet voice of yours.

Men who can't wait for your birthday so they can finally spoil you rotten with gifts, claiming that it's only natural for them to give you something since you're working so hard and doing such a good job. A little token of gratitude. They love watching you unpack your gift, feigning surprise when you tell them it was exactly the thing you wanted. They hit you with a "Oh really now? That's just wonderful. I'm glad to hear you like it" as if they haven't observed you carefully over the past few months and know everything you like and dislike.

Men who feel guilty when their pants tighten as they watch you bend over to pick something up from the floor. They can only imagine how wonderful you'd look bent over their desk with your panties moved to the side– your pretty cunt sucking them in so snuggly.

Men who think of you a bit too much when they're alone, who do their best not to touch themselves out of respect for you but still end up failing miserably. After a hard day at work the only thing that relaxes them is dirty thoughts of you. They always play it cool the next day at work, as if they haven't moaned your name as they came in their fists last night. and the night before that. and the night before that.

Men who eventually notice that you're also interested in them and feel like they're on cloud nine. All their dreams come true when you start giving them little hints– a lingering touch here, an invitation to a bar after work there– but they don't want to rush things. Nah, they take things slow and make sure you're aware of how much you mean to them before even dreaming of laying a finger on you.

Men who are the happiest they've been in years when, after a few weeks of taking you out on dates and treating you to dinner, finally spend the night with you. They make it all about you, really. For once, they set aside their own selfish desires and focus on giving you pleasure like you've never felt before, making use of the many years of experience they have.

Men who love it when you cum for them– it really gets them going. It's soul soothing: watching you melt into the mattress and babble out some sweet nonsense about how good they make you feel. They're so gentle and caring in bed because you're just too precious, but they will gladly spice things up if you want it. Trying out new positions? sure. Toys? on the table. Anything for their pretty darling as long as you keep calling them sir when they're deep inside you.

Men who're already looking for engagement rings less than a year into the relationship. You've got something good going on, so why not? It's not like they're getting any younger. They're more than willing to spend the rest of their life with you, if you want so too, and they aren't going to waste any time to put a ring on your finger.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐞, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 (𝐣𝐤 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞)

#ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑drabbles #god oh god i ain't seeing the pearly gates anymore #dilfs♡#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut #csm #csm smut #csm kishibe #chainsaw man

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mockingkatniss · 3 months

Text

NEED A RIDE? - drug dealer!Coriolanus Snow

18+ | nswf | mdni

warnings and tags: swearing, mention of drug dealing, smut, sloppy making out, multiple orgasms, blowjob, mention of gagging, body fluids, use of words like “wh0re” or “slu7”, specific body descriptions. BUZZCUT CORYO (little bit of a jump-scare for some of y’all) MODERN!AU, p in v sex, reader is just soft but not innocent, intese sex, porn without plot. (If I missed anything lmk).

(not proof read because I was tired, I will fix eventual errors <3)

summary: one particularly hot summer evening coryo sees you riding your bike while he’s driving he’s car around mindlessly and he ask you if you need a ride.

words count: 3.109k

Wanted to thank so so much @swiftiekisses because the drug dealer!coryo au it’s hers but she inspired me a lot and I also love so much her writing that I wanted to contribute with this fic! Also a big thanks to @euphemiaamillais because I’m literally addicted to what she writes and for inspirations for the drug dealer! au too! <3

enjoy and support me with a comment or a tiny heart! 💗🎀

coriolanus was driving by the quiet and deserted road of his god forsaken forgotten little town.

he hoped almost every morning to just wake up and found his rotten little city was torn down by some natural catastrophe.

he thought that dreams or ambitions couldn’t come true here. since his family lost everything due to his father's poor life choices, he was now stuck with poverty at 18 years and a cousin and grandmother to look after. more correctly just grandmother, since tigris left for college just the year prior.

to round some money he worked at the gas station, a literal hell hole in summer and plus coryo was sure he left part of his soul here, and sold some drugs to younger kids or kids his age at school or at parties but most of the times they directly came to the gas station.

if a drug had a name it was mostly probable that coryo had it to sell

that summer was cruel, sweat sticking to clothes and the asphalt so hot it could melt shoe soles, so cruel that coryo decided just two days ago to buzz his beautiful platinum curls off. the super short hair gave him a totally new appearance, he noticed that at the last party he went to sell, that mostly girls bought from him, stucking dollar bills inside his front jeans pocket and sometimes begging for a kiss or some good old make out. he accomplished and accepted that he was just extremely hot.

his car moaned underneath him as he drove, that old piece of garbage was still going on but coryo feared that someday he would be left walking.

it was 7:35 pm, his shift at the gas station over since sejanus plinth took his place for the night shift. sejanus was a nice kid, he was rich but decided to take another path just having shitty jobs during the summer like most teens even though for him it wasn't necessary having one. he didn’t sell drugs but he covered coryo so many times at school or at work so he was ok.

coryo had a small joint hanging from his lips as he drove, just one hand on the steering wheel and both the car’s windows opened since his ac was (obviously) broken, but even the air was heavy and warm that night.

miraculously the bluetooth radio was still working so he was listening to some trap rap music on his cracked up phone, the screen broken from everytime he made it fall while running away from cops or simply on the floor on a daily basis. as the music went on he thought about how the suggestion to listen to that genre of music came from clemensia e arachne at school, but it was nice for once not only listening to metal or punk rock.

while he took another hit from his joint something caught his eye on the road. it was a bike, someone was riding it and he probably knew who it could be.

the bike was faded pink with old stickers on it and you were riding it tiredly, legs sore and sweat sticking to your skin.

your tiny tight skirt was riding up a little showing some more of your thighs and coryo swore to god that he saw a glimpse of your pink panties.

sometimes you bought from him some weed and nothing more. you were a literal sunshine and at school you talked to everyone, being friendly and helpful. coryo still remembers how you helped him with physics the first year of highschool. you both were still young but nature obviously blessed you donating you such a sexy body.

he instantly felt his cock gently twitch into his jeans and he made the smoke from the joint exiting his nostrils in annoyance. don’t you get coryo wrong, he had sex and sure plenty of it but since the hot sticky summer he wasn’t feeling like it to just screw some girl even though he just needed to say the words. it was peculiar how his cock woke up just by seeing you.

he drove nearby you slowly to keep up with your velocity and you looked over to acknowledge the presence of a car and as you recognized the driver you smiled throughout puffed breaths from hotness and the riding.

coryo made a small smirk while pulling the joint away from his lips to talk. “hey bunny, need a ride?”. you slowly stopped your bike, tippy toes of your pink vans scratching on the asphalt. coryo stopped the car too and since the streets were dead he just got off his vehicle to look at you while positioning the almost finished joint on the car roof.

you panted lightly as you talked as you examined his presence. “it would be so nice coryo, I think I’m about to faint because of the heat”. he nodded understandingly with his head to the car behind him. “get on, I’ll get the bike” coryo thought he was going crazy when you got off the bike seat revealing more of your thighs. you collected your backpack and lifted yourself up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, strawberry lip gloss scent evident on his skin too now. “thank you coryo you’re my savior” you said before going to the opposite back of the car.

once the bike was fixed in the back he turned the car back on, securing his joint back around his lips once again while grabbing his lighter inside his jeans front pocket.

“where am I taking you?” he asked while lighting the joint to take a long drag before passing it to you. “I’m going to my dads house, it’s near the football field, 32nd house” you explained as coryo nodded knowing where it was since he spent much more time driving around in his free time than anything else. you also accepted the joint starting to smoke with relaxed muscles.

coryo looked over at you while driving, there was a peaceful silence. his elbow leaned outside the car’s window as his slim fingers tapped the steering wheel gently while driving. you noticed his rings decorating his fingers and his new buzz cut hair made his features even more sharp. you took three puffs from the joint handing him it back while caressing your naked thighs trying to pull down the miniskirt.

coryo savored till the last minute your lucid lips around the filter that he made, somehow the sweat made your skin warm and inviting, the blonde felt his cock twitch again and he fixed himself on the seat while trusting with his hips forward. he coughed a bit taking the last puff while tossing the dead joint outside the car. “how's it going in general?” you asked softly feeling already your head light but not too much, it was pleasant. “mh it’s ok, it’s too hot to work or to do anything else, I just want winter back” coryo explained briefly, voice slightly rough from smoking. you chuckled while leaning over to him to pinch his cheek softly. “awww snow wants his snow back doesn’t he?” coryo smiled while looking over to her, instinctively he turned over his face to scratch your fingers with his teeth playfully as you kept messing with him. “by the way, you look good today, bunny, but riding that bike with just this tiny skirt? a little bit dangerous don’t you think?” he asked while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “how is it dangerous? riding my bike won’t stop me” you felt like wanting to touch him so much, so you placed your hand on his thigh. coryo was one of the hottest boys at school and his reputation made him even hotter and you were a total slut for bad boys.

at your gesture he stiffened a bit looking down at you delicately manicured hand and you kept caressing him going higher and higher but stopping just before his crotch. “can’t keep your hands to yourself now?” he tried to be ironic but just your presence had made him incredibly hard and it was difficult to not stop the car and fuck you in the back seats, your pretty head pressed into the plush of the seats. “maybe I don’t want to keep them to myself” you shrugged while pulling away your hand as he stopped the car in front of your dads house.

he exited the car while trying to hide his hard on while pulling his jeans around to crotch to fix the situation but nothing was effective. coryo pulled your bike outside the back of his car and you thanked him again while kissing his cheek but making the kiss longer. he sighed with a smirk while placing his big warm hand on your hips. you caressed his chest while looking up at him, a small pout on your lips. “you’re busy?” you asked, your long lashes batting at him inviting. “mmh no bunny, i’ll probably just go home, smoke again and collapse on my bed” his thumbs caressed your exposed skin just a little bit above your skirt. “why don’t you come inside? my dads busy he won’t be home till tomorrow noon” you swayed your hips a bit with pleading eyes. “fuck bunny you’re truly tempting but-“ you interrupted him while taking his hand, pulling him towards the house. coryo gave in, closing the car with his keys by distance and following you inside. you were making him feral with your temptations and soft eyes.

thank god the house had an ac so it was cooler inside. you tossed your shoes away together with your backpack and went to the kitchen to collect some water for you both and coryo looked around noticing how the house was elegant and well kept.

he slipped off his beaten up black combat boots and just sat on the big couch. he almost sunk inside it, noticing it was a water couch and smirked as dirty thoughts filled his head.

“the water couch is amazing isn’t it?” you giggled while handing him a glass of water while bouncing next to him making the couch move in small waves. “yeah pretty comfortable” he said as he leaned the glass to his lips not looking away from you for any second.

you then smiled mischievously while slipping down the couch, your knees sinking in the soft fluffy carpet. you positioned yourself between his legs while going for the zipper of his pants pulling it down with pure eyes. coryo almost choked on his water as he looked at you with pleased eyes and a big smirk on his lips. “what the fuck are you doing bunny?” he breathed out a laugh as you tried to pull down his pants together with his boxers. “I want to suck you off so bad so lift up your butt now” your tone was playful and demanding and he did as you said making you able to pull his jeans and boxers down making his pink cock sprung to life. it leaned against his tummy perfectly. “what did I do to deserve something like this without even asking?” he placed his hands behind his head pushing his hips up so he could sink more into the water couch. “nothing special but you’re fucking hot and I can’t wait anymore,” you paused to spit on his tip gently while pushing some curls behind your ears. “and I just know you’re good at selling as you’re good at fucking” you giggled while finally gripping his base. “I knew you were big, shit” you were already fantasizing about taking him deep and hard inside your cunt. “you knew?” coryo laughed again but his breath was getting ragged slightly.

you just didn’t respond, kitten licking his tip and collecting precum as you looked up at him. he bit his bottom lip harshly to just concentrate not to burst his cum all over your pretty glittery makeup and long lashes.

you kissed his length till the base then licking a long stripe back up till you swallowed half his cock allowing space with your tongue and cheek. you started to suck and lick and the moans he was making were pornographic.

after a while saliva was dripping down your chin mostly when you decided to deepthroat him with a fluid movement making the water couch sway gently. “ah fuck bunny, you’re so fucking good” coryo moaned, lust clouding his blue eyes as he gripped your curls to buck into your throat just two times just to hear you gag shamelessly around his cock.

you smiled through teary lashes and bubbles of saliva and lifted your head to just suck at his tip harshly.

“shit- I’m gonna come bunny” coryo announced as you jerked off the rest of his cock while concentrating on the tip. at his words you pulled away standing up and his angry cock just leaned against his tummy as he bucked into air. “are you completely mad you fucking slut?” he said impulsively, the ruined orgasm hitting something into his mind profoundly.

you just smirked while slipping off your crop top and miniskirt. “what did you just call me coryo?” you asked while undoing your bra and slipping off your soaked pink panties. his mouth was slightly agape at your naked body, eyes obsessed. “I said you’re a whore, a slut” he said slowly and challengingly, lips mimicking each final letter. “oh yeah? let this slut show you how much of a whore she is.” you walked on the couch standing above him both of your feet planted on each side of his legs making the water couch giggle.

he was completely transfixed as you opened your legs leaning one of your knees on the headset of the couch. you grabbed his head from behind pushing his mouth on your dripping core.

coryo thought about cumming just from that, just from the smell of your juices and the taste of it.

it was so intense, his tongue lapping at your folds once in a while stopping to suck on your lips or clit while humming. his big hands gripped your ass squishing the plush meat here to push his face further into you.

you were a complete mess as you scratched his head and moaned shamelessly and loudly, hips bucking as you trusted him keeping you up to not let you fall.

“fuck coryo! fuck I’m coming!” you chanted as you gripped his head, legs quivering as your juices splashed into his face. coryo felt on cloud nine as he gripped your hips to not let you fall as he lapped at your juice like the starving dog he was. dying by suffocation from your pussy seemed the only best thing he could think of at the moment.

you came down from your high slipping down as you sat on his lap, grabbing his neck to kiss him sloppily to taste yourself in his mouth. you sucked his tongue, licked the roof of his mouth and even licked his teeth while he playfully rubbed your clit. “mh! I’m sensitive-“ you lamented while pushing his hand away, your lips glistening with his saliva. “I need you inside now coryo” you gently kissed his jawline and neck while rubbing your pussy onto his still angry cock. “your wish is my demand bunny but you’re not gonna come again sooner or later” as he said so with his low voice he pushed his cock inside of your thigh pussy helping himself with his fingers and you laughed a moan while arching and sitting fully on his hard member. he immediately hit your cervix so good you felt helpless.

it was the most passionate and sloppiest sex of your entire life. you rode him like your entire existence depended on it, you knees sunk into the water couch as you bounced on his cock helped by the gentle waves. his hands were placed right on top of your ribs as your hips were too quick to control anyways. you pushed your head so hard against his that your noses squished together as your forehead and your moans and shouts tangled together. both mouths opened, eyebrows furrowed.

coryo didn’t even remember his name anymore when you clenched hard around him signaling somehow that you were close. “stupid bunny thought she could come yeah?” he murmured around a moan as he gripped hard your ass to stop your intense riding. “what the fuck coryo? don’t stop please, fuck!” you lamented but when he pushed your back into the couch your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. coryo fucked into you helplessly, his orgasm close. your back arched and he massaged your breasts cupping them harshly. “shit fuck! I’m coming” he moaned, eyes fluttering close for a minute. to make you pay he pulled out, cum splashing on your tummy and even on your breasts from the intensity of it and you cried out loud from the loss of his cock inside of you. you even laughed a bit through cries because of where his cum landed but then you gripped his ear angrily. “make me come coryo, make me fucking come” she arched rubbing her pussy against his worked out cock. coryo panted a laugh and gripped your jaw with his hand tightly before leaning over to bit and pull your lower lip. he massaged your clit with all of his hand opened while looking at you. “look at your fucked out face, you’re completely drunk on my cock” he laughed again mischievously just to degrade you. he rubbed your entire pussy quickly, slapping your clit once in a while. “now you’re gonna come and admit that only my cock can make you this fucked up mh?” you nodded, eyes rolling once in a while. “yes, yes coryo, only you, only want your cock” he chuckled again while his hand kept going. “that’s what I wanted to hear bunny” at his last words you came, the orgasm making your entire skeleton tremble in pure bliss. you cried his name with your mouth wide open.

when you calmed down a bit he was just caressing your thighs while admiring your body painted with his cum and you smiled while stretching out a bit. “next time you’re gonna come inside coryo” you said it so naturally with a small smile and a yawn and coryo playfully slapped your sensitive clit with two fingers making you whine a bit. “I'm looking forward to the next time in like, 10 minutes, bunny.”

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saatorubby · 5 months

Text

the lakes

synopsis: you won’t die, not on their watch.

a/n: hi hi, i’m starting to write for jjk too! so i hope to you all like this. and i’m trying a new style? actually putting in effort? I’m actually so ill about these two divorced gay boys who broke up in front of kfc. also bunch of different taylor swift song references, bear with me, it has consumed my soul.

genre: angst to fluff.

pairing: satosugu x reader

warnings: gore (mild), death and murder (in reference to hidden inventory arc), depression (lowkey).

I: 2008

You were dying. It was the plain and simple fact.

You might’ve tried to convince yourself that it’d turn out fine if it wasn’t for the gaping wound in your stomach. It was less a wound and more a hole.

You think you saw your rib cage poking out.

You were already feeling light headed, on the verge of passing out. If it went like this, you reckon you don’t have more than half an hour.

You pull out your phone, taking a minute to linger on the photo set as your Lock Screen. It was of you and your lovers, Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto, often dubbed as the strongest. If you’d had a dying wish, it would be to see them once more. But the world was a cruel, cruel place.

You slumped back on the wall as your mind flashed back to when everything went so wrong.

You were sitting in the backseat of the car, which was being driven by one of your old friends, ichiji, making small talk with him. Lately you hadn’t had time to devote to your friends. It had been a busy year.

“y/n-san?” Ichiji called after he saw you zone out, looking outside the window of the car, absent-mindedly admiring the scenic view of the countryside Tokyo. “We’re here.” He stated.

You zoned back in and nodded to Ichiji, thanking him for taking you out on this far, almost a half-day trip. You stepped out of the sleek black car.

You faced the apperent ‘haunted’ house. It was fairly big, could’ve passed as a mansion, if it wasn’t in such a shabby shape.

It was battered as if no one had lived in it for decades, which they probably hadn’t. The wood that would’ve been previously stately, were now rotten and unsightly.

You scrunched your nose in disgust, the smell of the dead never really leaves the house.

With a heavy sigh, you entered, ready to get this done and over with so you could go back to your stupid dumbasses and give them the date you promised.

You entered, the creek of the door was as ominous as ever. It was surprising that it was even hanging from from the hinges, judging by the condition. The inside of house was no better.

The walls were mossy, damp, and rotting. There was rubble in the ground from some places, with no roof, indicating the fallen ceiling.

This is one of the worst place you’ve worked in. But you’ve worked in worse. So you closed your eyes and sensed for its cursed energy. Everyone leaves residual, some people can hide it -like Suguru- but most can’t, and considering it’s a first grade, it probably can’t.

And bingo, you found-

A splatter sound was heard and something collided with your head, you pushed your arm, towards your head, and there it was, the red sticky substance of life, pouring out of your head

You turned around, eyes widened in surprise. It was not just the first grade.

Shit.

Now, you’ve somehow managed to defeat it, slumped on the same mossy and damp wall the one you scrunched your nose at earlier, with your legs splayed out, one hand clutching on your wound -the one on your stomach- holding it tightly, and in the other hand, your phone, displaying the picture of your two loves.

Ah, you really wished you could see them.

The picture was of a late-night adventure where all of you went to get ice cream. Satoru is grinning widely, with his signature peace sign and Suguru has an annoyed expression, no doubt due to some stupid comment passed by Satoru, though the softness of his eyes betrayed him, with a middle finger pointed at the camera. You were between them, taking the picture, with a smile on your face.

You smiled at them, tracing their faces on your phone before you felt the black spots appearing in your vision.

You had a feeling it’d end up like this. It always does, for people in your line of work. You just wished for what everyone wished for, a little more time.

Oh how you wished to go to the lakes where all the poet’s went to die. But as you thought, the world was a cruel, cruel place.

The phone in your hand slipped.

And so did you.

II: 2007

It’s been more than a year since you got to know those weirdos in your grade and the pretty girl. Satoru, Suguru and Ieiri.

Blue eyes and bangs. That’s what you called them. Or well, used to until it turned into a pretty, soft-spoken, Satoru and Suguru. The journey from former to latter wasn't a long one but you sometimes wonder whether you've known them for twenty seconds or twenty years.

Satoru was an exhilarating fresh breeze on your face on a windy day, full of adventure and new experiences and Suguru was the warmth of soft sun on a beach, relaxing and familiar. Satoru was your twenty seconds and Suguru was twenty years.

it had been a month since Riko Amanai died.

You think something in you died when you saw that child die. And those claps, that fucking sound haunted your ears still. The booming sound of the gun fired by toji fushiguro, the claps, and the innocent trip to the beach just a day before, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Because it wasn't just a child who had died, that child was your friend.

You think you're spiraling.

Every day is a routine. You wake up, greet your friends half-heartedly, go exorcise curses, come back late, and go straight to bed, not having enough energy to deal with anything or anyone.

You know Suguru is not well. You think you should talk to him. Satoru, he'll survive.

Maybe you're being too harsh, but this is all Satoru has ever known, what he was ever taught. He doesn't know how normal people live, or the joys of having a normal life. He won't do anything stupid.

Suguru knows how normal people live. And in their lives, children aren't murdered brutally.

But you want Satoru to explore normal life. Coffee in the morning, sweet spoken, sleepy mumbles, sunlight through the window pouring in the room, and writing their names on each other's backs.

You want him to explore all that. With you and Suguru.

So you've decided. Enough is enough. No more moping. You will do anything to keep this small family you've built with your friends.

I: 2008

Blinding white lights, thats all you saw as you first felt conscious. Maybe, you died for real this time, no second chances huh? But as it seems, eternal rest was not what destiny planned for you.

You open your eyes, blinking to get used to the flash of light. It was already giving you a headache. You groaned.

You heard panicked shouts and bustling, as a melodious female voice entered your ears to calm the other two distressed male ones.

You recognized them. Also, it means that you're in deep shit.

Regretting your choices and foreboding sleeping on the couch for a week, you open your eyes.

"Water." Croaking out that, sent you to a fit of cough, though, your savior appeared in the form of a rough set of hands that were holding you up, strong and tanned. Other, fairer, a bit lanky, but just as strong, held up a glass of after to your mouth, cupping your cheek to keep you in place.

You gulp down the water, reveling in the feeling of soothing cold water going down your dry throat.

You blink your eyes fully open, seeing the distraught faces of your lovers. Satoru, who was in front of you, holding an empty glass, looked like he'd been crying. His pretty eyes lined red.

Suguru, who after making sure you were sitting on the bed comfortably, came in front of you and sat down opposite Satoru. He didn't look much better, his face was unhealthy pale and he had bags under his eye.

You couldn't help but smile. Maybe the world isn't that cruel yet

"Hi." You croaked out, not being able to help a small bashful smile that made its way over to your face despite the graveness of the situation.

You were just so happy to see them.

"Hi, pretty." Satoru smiled in your direction. It was strained and wobbly, but even he couldn't hide the relief in his voice. He raised his hand and rested it on your cheek, caressing it.

Suguru came up and took your hands in his, softly squeezing them. "You scared us, baby." He said, gazing into your eyes with his misty ones.

"I'm sorry." Your hoarse voice groaned out, the smile was still ever-present on your face, though the feeling of remorse was there as well.

When you look at their faces, relieved and ridden of all the darkness, you think that maybe, maybe, you were able to save your family.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #suguru geto #geto suguru #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #poly satosugu #gojo x reader x geto #poly satosugu x reader

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cowyolks · 6 months

Note

I would like to make a request

Knight Soap X Princess Reader. I've been dying for it. The King König is amazing!

AN OATH OF ROSE BRIAR

Pairing: Knight! John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Female!Princess! Reader

Prompt: It was always nightfall when he’d sneak into your chambers, yearning for love that tears apart at the seams. You didn’t know forbidden love could taste so divinely sweet.

Words: 6.8 K

Warnings: Violence, Gore, Graves is a creep, smut, p in v sex, oral sex (receiving), fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, hint of voyeurism.

A/n: don’t come at me for the action scenes, I know they’re bad lmao. Otherwise I’m proud of this, even though it took me years.

“Hold your breathe, My Lady.” A sharp tug pulled against your waist, securing your corset even tighter to your body, almost like a second skin. You’d been exclusively told you had to look perfect this week, as your father, the King, was inviting possible suitors for you.

It left an irony and rotten taste in your mouth.

You’d lifted your arms, feeling the soft and thick fabric of your crimson dress fall over the enlarged swells of your breasts and hips. It was gorgeous, laced and embroidered with golden roses. Gold jewelry proudly sat at the hollow of your throat and smooth skin of your wrists.

The maids had done well making you look the part. It was just a shame all of this was in vain. You’d never love any of your potential suitors, for there was already a man that had thieved your affections and ran with it like a sly fox.

And it just so happened he was someone you could never have. Ah, forbidden love.

A sharp tug on your scalp alerted you of the busy hands weaving your ruby crusted diadem over your temples. They’d spritzed your body in perfume and oils, using berries to bring out the plumpness of your lips. You felt beautiful, but a type of beautiful that would burn if you stood too close.

A knock on your chamber door startled you from your daydream.

“The King has requested your presence at the harbor docks, Princess.” His voice warmed your very soul and burned your beating organ. There was no possible way he didn’t know the true affect of his voice, his body, his affection. It was killing you from the inside out.

He was a spectacle.

In the eyes of the public he was Ser MacTavish, first of his name, and knight of the Royal Guard. To you, under the cloak of darkness and seclusion, you referred to him as John, chanting his name as you panted against his lips. He made you feel good, a rush of freedom and adoration that pooled in your gut like rolling waves.

Your maids stepped away, offering you tight and practiced curtesies as you thanked them with a smile. You shifted closer to the heavy door, one of your ladies in waiting pushing the door open.

You adjusted to the gentle summer sun, squinting in the rays and enjoying the balmy warmth of the air. Breeze blew from the Sea, fluttering your hair laced with pearls and beads.

A shift of metal drew your attention to your knight, someone who swore an oath to your father to protect him. Instead, he settled on protecting you, being your main guard and secretive lover. John stood tall and proud in his chainmail, your house crest displayed across his chest.

He had his helmet off, the piece of armor hanging loosely in the crook of his arm. He had a passive expression on his features, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was dreading this day as much as you.

You would be married off in less than a week, still you couldn’t help but look at him with greedy infatuation. He’d shaved for the occasion, jaw sharp and shining. His rosy lips contrasted the tanned richness of his skin. Even his eyes, the color of the restless sky, shone in sheer strength and power. His high rank was exposed through the gold beads and occasional shells that were braided through his ebony hair. The middle part was much longer than the sides. He always clipped it after a victory, and you’d never known him to have grown it out.

“Good Morn, Princess.” His deep voice twanged with the lit of his accent, making slight goosebumps ripple through your skin.

“How do you do, Ser?” You stepped forward, falling into step beside him as the two of you climbed down the steps to the bay. Gulls called out from above for their partners, stooping downwards to feed their young.

“Been better, I have. The lady I love will soon love another.” He muttered, hands clenching at his side with what you could detect as wretched jealousy. You noted he was just as miserable about your arrangement as you were. At least he still had his oath—nothing would change there. But you, you would bear a blood bond to your potential suitor. To obey him and provide him with heirs.

You felt bile rise up your throat just thinking about it.

“I doubt she will ever love anyone more than you.” You admitted, knowing then by the twinkle in his eyes it satisfied and gutted him at the same time. The scent of saltwater and seaside jasmine flooded your nostrils as John led you to your father, who was patiently awaiting for the approaching ships.

Ships of different houses, all set upon winning your hand. There would be a festival held all week, the kingdom was already decorated in crimson silks and glowing lanterns for the occasion. It would be beautiful, if it wasn’t for such horrible terms. With the festivals came the games. It was always fun to see the men compete in such activities despite the reason.

You distinctly remember watching the flex of your knight’s biceps and thighs as he tossed a caber the farthest and had won. Pride surged through your veins that day, and you made sure to reward him in the dim glowing light of your chambers.

Now, your suitors would compete for your hand. While it wasn’t necessarily determined that the winner of said games would earn your hand, it was more so a tool to help decide. The Royal Court and your father would pick the best with the most assets.

The only saving grace of this tournament was the fact that several knights under your Father’s command could compete as well. Not for your hand, but just to show the strength of your kingdom. Your eyes would be on your John, as they always would be.

Your knight stopped in front of your father, bowing his head low with one hand clutching the iron hilt of his impressive sword. You performed your own curtesy, gold jewelry clashing together as you moved.

“Daughter…aren’t you the prettiest gem in the Kingdom.” And isn’t that just what you are? A shiny object meant to barter away.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” You spoke clearly, something you were taught at a young age.

“Come here,” Your father gestured to the docking ships. You stepped forward, just as John stepped backwards, always one to watch your back. You could feel his fiery stare bouncing on the bare skin of your spine. Attempting to hide the rush of blood flowing to your cheeks, your eyes pinpointed the rush of banners heading down the enormous dock.

All your potential suitors came from the East, a district called Kortac. The land was split into three countries, all ruled by different Kings.

First, there was King Kim, dubbed Horangi. Most referred to him as the Tiger King, for his ruthlessness in battle that was reminded of a big cat. You’d met him before, he was respectable and kind despite those rumors, but he certainly wasn’t your John.

Then there was King Philip, while he was definitely pretty, you’d only heard bad about the wealthy King. He was the richest of all, as he had his own battalion deemed his shadows. You met his eyes slowly, almost immediately picking up on the greedy gleam of it. It made you shiver thinking of marrying him.

Lastly, was the most mysterious of the three. You didn’t even know his full name, just that everyone referred to him as König. He covered his face, although it didn’t stop the stares. Anyone would be drawn to a man of his massive structure. You’d never met him, but you’d heard how he fought alongside his soldiers, as if he didn’t give a damn about his Royal status.

Your father held his arms out wide, almost as if he was hugging his whole kingdom. “Welcome! It’s an honor to host your districts in hopes of winning my lovely daughter’s hand. You all must be tired from your journey, my guards will show you to your chambers. Rest up, because tonight will be our first game that the princess has the honor of choosing!”

All eyes settled upon your pampered form, making you shift slightly from all the attention. Subtly your eyes met John’s— what was he the best at? You wracked your mind quickly. He was a simple stable boy once upon a time, someone who loved horses and worked hard for the hope of something better. He was tall and strong, quick and witty. You thought of the callous on his hands, from hours of wielding metal and clutching reins. Yes, you had it.

“I chose jousting.” You exclaimed, not noticing the wicked smirk that wound its way across John’s lips. Cheers and war cries broke out amongst the men and common folk, all of them excited to watch the entertainment.

“Excellent! The games begin tonight before the feast to honor the princess.” Your father informed before clapping once as his guards escorted him to his chambers. John approached you again, bowing politely in show of all the new eyes.

“Back to your chambers, princess?” He asked, eyes flickering every once and a while. He looked stiffer than normal, ever the vigilant force at your side. You could tell he didn’t like all these outsiders, specifically around you.

“No, not yet. I feel like going on a walk through the gardens.” You’d always found solstice around the sweet smelling rows of briar and petal.

Afternoon bled into evening. And with the evening time came the air of excitement. You’d been fiddling with a strand of crimson fabric, the ribbon twisting between your digits absentmindedly.

You tilted your head behind you, wishful stare settling upon your guard, who walked several paces behind. He was dressed in full armor now, the helmet covering the soft flesh of his neck and head. Dark hair still curled out the bottom, whipping around against his tanned neck.

Your eyes flickered around, spotting no one in the private gardens. Still, you cautiously shuffled into the shade and privacy of the marble pavilion, a place where you and your knight’s lips locked and fiery touches met before. John knew to follow you, his form barely making a sound despite the heavy armor.

“Princess?” He uttered, eyes full of what only could be described as pure want and adoration.

You surged forward, lips immediately settling upon his own. A large arm wrapped upon your waist, pulling you off your feet and into his scent and warmth. His bottom lip parted, allowing his tongue to swelteringly lick across your own. You parted for air, a string of saliva connecting the two of you before it broke away.

“Please win tonight.” You begged, knowing that it would mean nothing despite the victory. John had sworn an oath— an oath that sealed his fate. No children, no wife, no lands. He’d have his head on a chopping block if anyone caught him.

“Aye, I’ll do just that, flower.” He swore, smothering eyes falling downwards to your moving hands at his chest. The scarlet ribbon you fiddled with snaked it’s way under armor. You’d tied the knot against the loose end of his tunic, your personal favor. The pads of your fingers brushed his chest, feeling the strong thudding of his heart.

He had your favor, your love, your time all symbolized in that red piece of fabric.

“Go,” you whispered, nodding towards the south, where the growing arena was likely filling up with spectators. He nodded his head once, grasping onto your hand that still stubbornly clung to his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss upon your knuckles.

“Goodbye for now.”

You watched him leave, following the horizon to the stables, where his mare awaited. You’d rushed down to the stands, keeping your head covered and away from prying eyes. After shifting pass several soldiers you collapsed down into the forged steel of your throne, similar to your father’s.

He’d been waiting for you, a disappointing look crossing his features.

“Why were you late?”

“I lost track of time in the gardens. You know how much I love the roses.” You excused, hoping it was enough for your father to put on his act of King and host again. He hummed, before standing. The audience immediately dropped volume upon the gesture of the King.

“Let the games begin!”

Loud uproars broke out though the area, cheers and shouts for their own kings escaping the many districts. You stayed seated, straightening out the sheer fabric of your gown.

A large black Stallion trotted proudly into the area, a knight with gleaming armor the color of obsidian upon the saddle. John’s second in command, Ser Simon. Some called him the Ghost, for his shifty speed and impressive strength in battle. He nodded to your father beyond his visor, shouldering the large lance he held.

His opponent’s horse moved forward as well, a buckskin shire so large you could almost hear it’s thundering steps. Large horse for a large man—König shouldered his lance with precision. You had no doubts he could out muscle Simon, but the Ghost certainly held fast in his speed and intelligence. König’s armor was coppery in color, long since used and well worn in his victories. It was admirable in a queasy kind of way.

A bugle sounded to your left, kick starting the joust with a burst of added cheers.

You watched as Simon’s horse reared excitedly, happy to speed towards the oncoming opponent in long strides. You watched as the Ghost twisted his shield, jamming König’s lance narrowly, avoiding splinters to his chest. You let out a breath as the two made it to the opposite ends unscathed.

The two approached again, this time Ghost was on the offense, shifting his shield before jabbing his lance in the opposite direction that caught König on his arm between the subtle crease of his armor.

Cheers erupted from your own subjects, chanting out the name “Ghost” over and over, with a thumb up, your father declared Ghost the winner.

Next was King Graves and Horangi. A match you were looking forward to as much as watching paintings dry. But alas, you had to look interested for they were your suitors.

Horangi looked on with flashing intelligence, something you admired greatly. If he could think quickly, he’d know that Graves’ left side was always weakly guarded and possibly strike there.

The first bugle sounded, allowing Graves to lead off first with his expensive looking mare. Horangi took off a second later, visor dark and covering the movement of his eyes. The two flew forward, speeding pass with no damage done.

The crowd cheered as Graves boasted from the opposite side, his raised arms making your nose wrinkle in disgust.

The second bugle sounded, this time Horangi was faster, shouldering his shield in determined might. His lance favored and aimed to Graves side, which he narrowly missed after the wealthy king twisted away. The crowd bursted into relieving calls, while the other half sighed in disappointment.

Finally, the last horn blew, and with gaining speed, Horangi aimed to Graves’ unprotected side again, but with a dirty trick, Graves juked his lance to the side, then with a vicious twist brought his shield straight onto the nose of Horangi, essentially flattening him and having the Tiger King fold to the ground with a wounded puff.

It was dirty, but essentially fair. It made unease reside in your gut as your father held up a thumb for King Graves’ victory. Cheers and boos broke out, making you shrink back in your seat with a huff. But then, your eyes caught on the sapphire blues of your knight. He rode on his fiery mare dubbed Themis, tribute to Justice. She was a handsome bay that loved when you gave her sugar cubes in the seclusion of the stables.

John would take on the Ghost. A battle that you knew would be entertaining and competitive, yet harmless. No ill intention would breakout among the knights, that you were sure of.

John rode to his side with a determined exhale, gripping his lance tightly as Themis pawed the dirt in anticipation. The bugle sounded as you shuffled to the edge of your seat, resisting the urge to worriedly bite your lip. He clicked his tongue, urging Themis into a speedy canter as he maneuvered his body in the right position.

Simon, who definitely owned the strength, brought himself tightly together, using his blunt force to push John’s lance away with his shield. The audience sighed in anticipation as the two knights rode to the opposite side unscathed. Under their visors, you could see the hints of amused smiles. At least they were having some competing fun.

The next round started, this time with John taking up a defensive position instead of offensive. Simon aimed his lance at John’s armored chest, anticipating that he’d block with his shield. Themis galloped onwards, huffing steaming smoke like a fiery dragon.

With a heave, Simon thrusted the lance inwards just as John brought his shield up a few inches. Then, with a lightening quick speed, he lowered it again, shoving his lance instead into Simon’s side, effectively teetering his balance. The Ghost fell with grace, landing on his feet in a disappointed dull thud. You resisted the urge to cheer too loudly as your John circled, a fist pumped in honorable victory.

Your father held his thumb up to John, likely the only approval he’d ever receive from the King. You only wish he’d approve of you wanting John’s hand. But Princesses weren’t people, they were tools of power. A simple pawn in the decade game of chess.

The tourney was drawing to an end— just John and Graves left in the competition. You’d completely dropped your resolve, chewing upon your lip as King Graves pranced out on his horse again.

There was a dangerous look in his eye, something that made your stomach spin in knots for your John. Regardless, your own knight held a hard and determined scowl, his chest likely breathing in pure desperation for a victory.

The deafening horn blew again, and John took off in a thunderous offense. He looked calm and collected, ever the cool demeanor when it came to a fight. Themis whinnied in disappointment as both lances missed their marks respectfully, making you let out an exhale you didn’t know you were holding.

Time sped up, your own surroundings moving much faster than your panicked thoughts. The next thing you knew, Themis was squealing, rearing up on her hind legs as John scrambled for a tighter hold on her reins. But you knew your John, your sweet, selfless, passionate John— it didn’t surprise you in the slightest that he dismounted in a cloud of dust. He was always selfless like that, disqualifying himself to check upon his panicked mare.

Themis seized her bucking as John cooed at her in reassuring words, a quick pat pressed into her withers.

Then you noticed the searing red of a laceration. The bleeding wound leaked crimson, but it wasn’t the blood that made your nostrils flare in anger. No, it was thin stripe of such a cut. A cut only made by a stealthy swing of a short sword.

The bastard king had cheated.

Roaring applause and boos echoed across the arena. You had to bite your tongue to resist a uproar of your own, so much so that you tasted warm blood upon your tongue.

You met John’s eyes, his filled with so much apologetic sorrow you had to blink to stop your own from watering too much. It wasn’t that you were upset that he lost, more so that it wouldn’t matter regardless. He was sweetness you could never taste, love that would only burn you.

You’d realized this now. Now so more than ever, when the sight of your own summer roses extended in front of your line of sight.

A crown of beauty and fertility. You couldn’t help but focus on the wicked thorns that pierced your temples as King Graves, the victor, declared you the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. It made you sick that he was the most favorable of the Kings. You’d never wanted to run away more, to spend your days on the highland coasts in a homey cottage your knight had built by hand. Saltwater between your toes and John’s body to keep you warm on the stormy days.

Perhaps, now would be the time to throw away your titles and fortune and replace it with freedom, love, and yearning.

The evening blurred into darkness illuminated by glowing starlight. A time you relished and anticipated when your knight would slip into your chambers and kiss away the stress and pain of expectations, orders, and rules.

Now, you wanted nothing more than to be excused from this wretched dinner and to sleep until dawn.

The crown of roses sat uncomfortably upon your head, despite all the compliments you had received from the nobles. You’d see it more fair to chuck the bloody thing in the roaring fires bordering the stony hall. Sorrow crept into your soul when you couldn’t find your knight in the sea of feasting people.

Your own roast chicken and vegetables lay untouched. It was hard to even think of eating when King Phillip sat next to you, boasting and smiling with his too white teeth. You wanted to get sick when his hand subtly touched your lower back.

“Father.” You blurted, drawing attention upon yourself. Graves’ retracted his jeweled hand begrudgingly upon the careful look he received from your king. Visibly you gulped, now having the divided attention of not just your father but the three other Kings as well.

“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to return to my chambers if it is quite alright with you.” You asked, nearly squirming at the sharp look he sent you. He didn’t appreciate your resistance to being wed, but you did happen to look a tad lighter than your typical shade. He sighed heavily, but nodded anyways.

“Go get some rest. I’ll have Ser Riley escort you since your own knight is still tending to his mare.” Your heart jumped as your father confirmed where John was. But you knew, in your heart, he wasn’t just taking care of Themis— he was shouldering his defeat badly.

Despite this, you stood, making careful eye contact with Ser Simon. You’d always observed him from afar, growing unnecessarily nervous with the helmeted knight. He was strong and mysterious, not belonging to a house or clan but was simply a nomad that sworn oath. Your John liked him, that was enough for you. After all, He wasn’t so bad when he cracked morbid jokes you likely should never hear as a Princess.

The Ghost held out the crook of his arm, signaling for you to take the cold metal of his armored forearm. You did so quietly, holding the stiffness of your posture until you were through the large doors of the hall.

Simon was always quiet, really only speaking when he needed to. John told you one time, when the two fought under the same battalion that Simon wouldn’t shut up or stop cracking jokes as he dragged a wounded John through the battlefield. Your knight realized then that Simon only spoke to keep him conscious and laughing. Respect and gratitude bloomed in your heart for the Ghost.

“I assume your sickness has left?” The Ghost spoke in his rough voice that reminded you of scratchy bark on Oak trees. Your heart jumped at such an accusing question.

“Pardon?”

“The damn parasite king? Leaching onto our Princess like he’s some Messiah.” He growled.

“Shhh! What if someone hears you speak that way, Ser?” You panicked for his safety, eyes flickering around in a familiar practice of looking for wondering eyes or ears. Simon, didn’t seem bothered, only shrugging in nonchalance.

He steered you down the hall, bicep gently flexing under your palm. It was then when you noticed he took a wrong turn, instead following the lantern light to the stables.

“You turned the wrong hall, my chambers are this way.” You insisted. Simon shook his head, continuing to usher you gently down the cobble path to the growing sound of whickering horses.

“Ser?”

“You speak too much.” Simon imputed, leading you into the old wooden building that housed all the guard’s prized mares and stallions. It was dark inside, the area barely lit with gentle candlelight. Still, you made out the shuffling outline of a familiar body.

John.

It took everything in you not to sprint in his direction. To pull him into an embrace and kiss the worry lines of his face. Instead you stayed planted next to Simon, who gingerly dropped your arm with a knowing look in his eyes. You should have been worried that he knew, but you could care less at the current moment. He was friend, not foe.

“I think I hear the sound of impending doom. I must go before it’s too late.” Simon monotonously quipped in a low voice, tilting his masked face just enough for you to see his wink before he turned on his heel and left you alone.

Your eyes swiveled around, only catching on the taut muscles of John’s back, who didn’t seem to notice you over the sound of Themis’ affectionate whinnies.

You took careful steps forward, not caring that the bottom of your expensive crimson gown was being caked in dust and straw. Instead you couldn’t help but admire your knight. He was shoveling loose hay into Themis’ trough, back muscles rippling in strain. You caught the white material of bandage wrapped tightly and professionally around his horse, obviously the work of his experienced hands.

“John?” You spoke softly, as not to startle his usually alert self. It appeared he only cared about his surroundings when you were his to guard and protect.

Immediately he dropped the pitchfork, the sound muffled by the hay below his feet. Then he turned, so fast that you missed the pure looks of sorrow, surprise and adoration cross his features.

“Princess! I- you shouldn’t be here.”

Your heart strained at the rejection, nevertheless you knew he was frustrated and self loathing. You couldn’t help but approach him, just as he took a leaping bound forward, pushing pass the gate to follow you like a loyal hound.

It was common practice for the two of you to find the dim part of a room. A place where no eyes or ears could possibly look.

Here, his stiffness fled, eyes nearly glowing against the flickering flames.

“I failed you.” His head hung low, knees almost buckling from the sheer disappointment that pushed heavy on his heart. He avoided your approaching form, not taking the time to meet your gaze or see the shaking of your head.

“You could never fail me, John. Not now, nor ever.” Your palm settled upon his stubbled cheek, his body instantly reacting to the touch by pushing further against you.

“But I-”

You cut him off, placing your thumb upon the chapped line of his lip. He’d immediately stopped speaking, his hand going upwards to delicately take a hold of your own. His palm nearly swallowed your entire hand, his calloused fingertips stopping just above your wrists.

“I don’t deserve you, Princess.” He’d absentmindedly brought his thumb across your knuckles, comforting and true that made your body buzz in love and adoration.

You reached upwards, tilting your head just enough to ghost your lips over his own. You’d let him chose if he’d like to take comfort in your warmth. A small grunt of frustration fluttered down his throat, but he took you anyways.

Arm wrapping tightly upon your waist to hold you to his warm body, firm with countless hours of training and bloodshed. His other hand settled upon the back of your neck, fingers sprawling with the purpose to expand you towards his awaiting mouth. A sharp gasp of surprise exited you as he kissed you. It wasn’t his typical sensation of passion and sweetness.

John kissed you hard. His teeth clattering against your own, with his tongue pushing down your throat in a one-sided battle of dominance. He was chasing his frustration through your very body, and you certainly liked it.

“Don’t know what you do to me…” he breathed out as he broke away, only to steer you against the far wooden wall, protecting the back of your head with the back of his hand.

“I think I know.” You quipped back, the heat coiling in your stomach roaring at the sharp look you received.

“Cheeky little thing…” he hissed, one of his hands holding you steady while the other trailed down your collar bone to the top curvature of your breasts. His mouth followed after. Lips pressing searing kisses against your exposed neck, down to the hollow of your throat.

“John.” You sweetly aired, exposing your throat even more to his awaiting mouth.

“I know, flower, I know.” His voice growing even deeper with the lust that coated his tongue like sweet honey. “Turn around.” He muttered, maneuvering your hips so that you could rotate with your back to him.

His fingers quickly found your corset in a familiar action, loosing it enough to help pull down your undergarments. His mouth pressed open kisses down the curve of your spine, making you gasp breathlessly and arch further against him. You felt the hardness of his cock press against your lower back, just as he hissed at the stimulation.

“Fuck…Need to taste ya’.” He growled in a command, typically the only time he did order around his superior. You had no problem following his experienced lead.

You heard the gentle thud of his knees hitting the straw bedding, just as his hand pushed on your hip to pivot to face him. Eyes once the color of the sky now raged like a stormy hurricane, dark and ravenous. It was enough for you to widen your legs more in an invitation.

The tips of his fingers traced the warm skin of your thighs, just as his head disappeared from under the soft silk of your dress. Hot air escaped onto your uncovered heat, making your eyes flutter shut in bliss.

“John,” you whined, oblivious to what he was planning beneath the drape. A growly chuckle sounded, until his lips made direct contact to your throbbing clit, his warm tongue flicking upon the bead in a teasing stroke that had your legs locking as they became pliable at his touch.

“Easy….” His palm made contact with the soft swell of your backside, molding his fingers into the skin that ached and buzzed for just him.

A soft sigh left your lips as he petted you, fingertips touching and caresssing with such accuracy despite the darkness under your dress. You mewled when a thick finger prodded your entrance, sliding nearly effortlessly into your wet heat.

“Fuckin’ hell, Bonnie, always so tight for me.” He growled, voice so heavenly you couldn’t stop your muscles from clenching yearningly against him. You cooed in response as he curled the digit, your own palms finding his shoulders to steady yourself from his burning touch.

“Just for you.” You pleaded, neck pushing back against the wood of the stable wall. Your throat bobbed when his tongue licked a hot stripe, body shuddering in ecstasy. John chuckled at your words, the vibration sending jolts across your core.

“That’s right, Flower. All mine, no sod of a King can have you. Just me, right?” He added another finger, relishing in your loss of control at his confident touch.

“Right, yes.” You gulped, losing yourself embarrassingly quick under his skilled tongue and fingers dipping into you. He picked up speed, noticing the tell tale signs of your body responding to his.

“Oh, John,” you stuttered, eyes fluttering shut as he curled his fingers skillfully, the movement being enough to allow the coil in your abdomen to finally snap.

You gushed around him with a carnal moan, his tongue hurriedly lapping it all up greedily, just as he hummed at the taste. You barely had time to heave out an exhale before his hands found the flesh of your hips, taking hold of you in a lovestruck desire. He placed a sweltering hot kiss upon the inside of your thigh. His massive hands pushed you upwards, allowing himself time to escape from under your crimson gown.

He looked like Eros reincarnated.

Crysaline eyes the color of deep-rooted glaciers bore into your very soul. He had a look to his face, such as a painting crafted of faithful devotion, as if he was staring at something so enchanting everything else dulled in comparison. Your own slick coated his stubble and lips, allowing the light to catch as he licked the nectar off with a satisfied hum.

He squeezed once, twice, upon your hips, signaling that he was to move backwards, his broad shoulders falling backwards upon the straw with a huff. He settled you down upon him, your thighs slotting between his hips as your dress spilled over the both of you.

“Yer’ so beautiful, flower.” He praised, candlelight catching in his blown out pupils. Your heart fluttered at the compliment, as did your weeping entrance.

“Mhm,” You preened, a soft smirk spreading over your lips as you leant to kiss him. With confident fingers, you reached under your dress, making contact with his waistband, sliding the material downwards before reaching his cock. He was scorching at your touch, already throbbing and prepared.

John let out a hiss muffled by your mouth, as your fingertip slid over his tip, smoothing the large bead of pre-cum that had gathered.

A delighted chuckle left your lips as he twitched, you pumped his length slowly, curving your wrist just how he liked it. He pulled away from your kiss with a heave, a growl leaving his throat as he saw the teasing look in your eyes.

“Think you can play with me after all that’s happened today? Watching all those men stare like you’re a piece of meat? You do this after I licked your pretty cunt? No, Bonnie, your going to take my cock like a good obedient princess.”

You didn’t have time to teasingly retaliate, instead you could only gasp as his head slid unforgivably into your heat, a low moan leaving the both of you at the joining. His hands guided your hips, until all of him was sunk around your fluttering walls. He paused, glancing up to see if you were alright.

“I can’t help their stares, I did-” his finger found your lips, pausing your words.

“Don’t speak of them when your full of my cock, eh?”

You couldn’t help but nod, rolling your hips against him in a slow way that mimicked the words “yes I understand. Only you can see me like this.”

“Good.” He aired, his hands once again finding your hips as he roughly guided you against his own bucking hips, starting a fast pace that had your eyes fluttering shut and soft coos leaving your mouth involuntarily.

“That’s it, princess.” He praised, a hand leaving your hip to play with your breasts that threatened to spill out from your undone corset. His palm squeezed the sensitive flesh, sending shockwaves down your skin and goosebumps to rise in ecstasy.

You picked up speed, now rising inches off the straw covered ground before slamming back down upon his length. He cursed, adam’s apple bobbing as his tip met the start of your womb. A ravishing hunger filled your very souls, only satisfied by your intertwined touch and the sound of squelching skin.

He gripped you harder, his climax drawling to a burning close. You felt the all familiar tightening again, knowing that John would only stop fucking you until you finished around his swollen cock.

“You going to cum for me, princess?” He growled, hand falling under your skirts to draw slow circles upon your puffy clit with his calloused thumb.

“Yes!” His circling thumb pushed you over the edge, along with the deep and ruthless plunges of his cock, your eyes fluttered shut, just as your vision blurred from pure ecstasy. Your knight clenched his teeth, but could hardly contain his whine as he plowed deeply, spilling into you warmly.

Together the two of you heaved, lost in each other and not wanting to break your intertwined hold quite yet. You settled, bringing a palm to John’s sweaty cheek as his eyes fluttered shut.

“I love you.” You whispered, stroking the skin in all the passion you could muster.

“Well…. Isn’t this sweet?” A shadow hissed into the night, startling the two of you as you struggled to get up off of your knight in horrified shock.

Before you could separate your hold, your hair was tugged from behind, forcing you to stand and whimper at the fiery hold. Your knight struggled to stand, hastily making himself decent before scanning for a weapon. Except it was too late.

A dagger pressed coldly to your flaming jugular, halting John in place as he glared holes into your captor. You glanced downward, noticing the hand had familiar jeweled rings upon his digits.

Graves.

Bile threatened to expel as John attempted to step forward, until the dagger drew blood and the sharp sting made a lone tear fall down your cheek.

“Ah, ah. Stay where you are, or I kill the whore.” Graves threatened, holding his ground and forcing John to stay planted where he was.

King Graves tutted, a disappointed clicking noise that traveled from his chest to your back in vibrations.

“I always figured you were a whore, had the looks of one. But with your knight…” he laughed, no humor behind his tone as John switched between glaring and panic between the two of you. “You’ve just handed me another kingdom on a golden platter. Once the King knows of this scandal your knight will be hung, and you will be cast out as a whore, unfit for any royalty. That will leave the Kingdom to me, after I kill your worthless father.” Graves growled, a playful lit to his voice as you silently cried.

“Don’t cry….” Graves cooed heartlessly, pressing himself into you with a dull hunger. Your knight growled, eyes darkening as he could only helplessly watch.

All at once, you felt the shallow cut of the blade as a dull shrunk came from behind you, you leant forward at the lack of pressure, knowing you were no longer held captive as John rushed to your side, examining you for any horrific injuries.

You could only turn and watch as Graves’ body fell to the ground, a shrouded figure holding a knife shadowed the area, another person standing close to him as well. One wore a signature mask pulled up to his lips, the other was flushed a pink color, much like you had been before.

König and Horangi.

They had saved you.

“Go. Before your father sends out hounds looking for you.” Horangi spoke, voice airy as he subtly placed a hand upon König’s waist. Huh. Maybe they wouldn’t be so devastated as to not have your hand in marriage.

Tears welled in your eyes as realization set in. You were really doing this, really running away from all the blasphemy that was royalty. You could be free, could be with your John as you always hoped. It would be hard, but your mind was settled the moment you kissed your knight for the first time.

“Thank you.”

A steel knife sliced its way across stew vegetables. It was amateur chopping at best, but you’ve been practicing for the oncoming winter.

With a hum, you moved to place the potatoes into your pot of boiling cream. The fire burned comfortably in the small cottage made by hand. Stones were masoned expertly to create a fireplace, among with the strong boards of Oak to keep out the salty sprays from the sea.

The door opened with a creak, cold air blowing into the homey space in frozen waves. You suppressed a shiver, but felt warm at the sight of your husband.

He held a stack of firewood in his arms, biceps bulging as he placed the logs down into the crate next to the flames. He shook from the cold, but it seemed he was already warmer as his crystalline eyes locked with yours. It had been two days since he had left for a hunt, the longest you’ve gone without seeing him as of late.

John was growing nervous as the days grew shorter. With the shortening days, came the higher probability of giving birth.

“How are ye’, flower?” Your husband asked eyes falling to your swollen belly with so much love that your face couldn’t help but break out into a smile.

“I say we are better now that you are home.”

John laughed heartily, the sound booming through the whole cottage as he hugged his family close to him.

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #call of duty #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john soap MacTavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish

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lord-of-0blivion · 1 year

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This just popped into my head!

-Prompt-

Danny is in Gotham, and he had a long day at work and just wants some of his ecto gum. He reaches into his pocket but can't seem to find it.

So, he reaches again, this time that long reaches with the other arm (you know the one you do when something's stuck inside your pocket).

He absolutely doesn't notice when his hand fazes trough him, nor does he noticed that the "gum" he snatched was in fact not gum at all, but the soul of a clown that was sneaking behind a Wayne looking kid. So, he chews and a moment later he spits it out and throws it behind him, feeling remorseful and sorry for himself for eating rotten gum.

The "gum" lands back into the body of the quite shocked Joker. He jumped into the abyss and it spat him out in disgust. Later he will start feeling the same feelings Danny had felt, remorseful and apologetic.

Doctor Harleen Quinzel, because there is no way she is gonna remain Harely Quinn after what she just saw; Stares in horror and shock (and quite frankly an absurd amount of glee and amusement) at the kid who just plucked the Joker soul (because tha ball of shining dark light could only be a soul) chewed it out and quickly spat it back out (quite a lot cleaner, might she add) and threw it away like one of her hyenas after Ivy forced fed them vegetables as punishment for misbehaving.

By god she has a story the people at the bar are not going to belive for a week or so. You didn't need a doctorate to see that what just happened shook the Joker quite a bit. And she didn't even get to use her BATbat, awww....

Meanwhile Danny is completely oblivious to what he just did.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc #dp prompt #batman #danny fenton #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #poison ivy #the joker #jack napier

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imaginesmai · 2 months

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Hewn City, where nightmares come true

Maybe this is a bit long and excesive? Maybe, but we love good angst, hurt and comfort. Thank you @marscardigan for your request! Feel free to send anything else. This is places inside the baker!reader universe, but it's independent. You can find other parts here.

Plot: your anonymity makes you a great choice for Rhysand's mission, even if Azriel doesn't agree. But you'll do anything to discover more of Azriel's life, even the worst part. So you decided to take that trip to Hewn City - where nightmares do come true.

Warnings: males being a lil creepy with their comments, Keir, violence.

“Az” you sighed for the third time that afternoon, staring at your stubborn mate. “It’s no big deal. Feyre has done it, Nesta has done it. Why can’t I?”

“They have done it because they have powers. They…” his words died when you raised a brow and dared him to tell you that they could and were different. More capable. “It’s not even about them, don’t change the topic. It’s about us. I don’t want you to do it”

“So, it’s fine when you leave for weeks to the mountains with a target on your back but I can’t accept one dance where you and your brothers will be watching?” you asked, and he finally looked away.

Azriel and you had been arguing about the same topic for two days in a row. Since Rhysand, who you had become fond of in the last years, asked you for a favor. He had been hoping you would come with them to Hewn City and dance with some males while they snooped around. You didn’t even have to carry weapons with you, since you would be introduced as part of their family.

It wasn’t dangerous or risky. It was a favor from your friend because Hew City didn’t know you. An unfamiliar face they would be too preoccupied studying to notice Feyre, Nesta and Mor sneaking into their studies. They would play the hard part. You just had to dance.

And Azriel was having a tantrum about it.

“The fact that you can’t even answer that question is enough. I’m going. And you can’t decide what I do and don’t”

“I can talk Rhysand out of it” he tried, not looking at you.

“Oh, like you haven’t tried that already”

You decided the conversation was finished and turned around to finish decorating the trail of cookies. Azriel was leaning against the counter, his usual place to watch you work in silent adoration. The storm in his eyes died down a little at the familiarity of your movements, at the comfort of the bakery.

Yes, he was mad. Mad at Rhysand because he hadn’t asked him first, mad at himself for considering he was your owner and needed to be asked for permission for you to do something. Mad at you because you couldn’t see how tight his heart became at the thought of you in someone else’s arms, dancing in a room full of vipers.

Half of the citizens of that rotten place had been tortured by Azriel at some point, and the other half had been gently tortured. He trusted Rhysand’s glamour to hide your bonded scent, but his rebel heart seemed to think otherwise.

For a while, he watched you work in silence, hands working your own particular magic with common ingredients. The fire eventually left his soul and he felt guilty enough to leave his spot. When you set the last trail in the oven, he took advantage of the vulnerable position and wrapped himself around you.

His wings created a small cocoon for the two of you, light barely seeping through the thick membrane.

“I’m sorry for being an overbearing mate” he apologized against your earlobe, letting his warm breath make you squirm. “You’re amazing and brave and you can handle everything you want, but I worry because I love you”

“And I’m also too smart and beautiful for your own good” you scoffed when one of his hands sneaked beneath your apron. “We’re gonna burn those cookies”

“Won’t the only thing burning for you tonight”

You bursted in a loud laugh and the rest of his anger faded away, giving up space for the usual love and adoration for you. In his arms, he could hear your heartbeat, smell the faint remains of vanilla from the previous muffins and your shampoo.

Azriel pushed you farther into his arms, and you didn’t complain. One of his arms was settled on your waist, under your apron but with no further intentions. The other one crossed your chest, and you gripped his forearm between your hands.

He was all hard muscles and soft skin. Even under his usual leathers, you could feel the familiar outlines of his arm. You looked up from his chest and saved the height different when you locked your eyes with him. From upside down, he was just as beautiful as ever.

His lips curved into an apologetic smile, although you were certain it wouldn’t be the last time you heard from it. Azriel was just a little less stubborn than you.

“I forgive you on one condition. You don’t bring it up to Rhys anymore. He already feels bad about it, you don’t have to remind him” you gently reprimanded him. “If he could, he would have searched for other solution. And I’m happy to help”

“You’re happy here, but down there it’s horrifying. And Rhysand and Hewn City can fuck – “

“Besides, I like doing things with you. From your other life”

Azriel’s life as the shadowsinger, as the spymaster, was still a bit hidden to you. You had gotten him to open up little by little, and he had shared some details that had you almost regretting your decision. But it was true that, besides doing Rhysand a favor, you wanted to do it with Azriel. Watch him work and be that tough male everyone feared.

That point made him roll his eyes and drop the matter with a brief kiss to your nose. He captured it between his teeth and playfully bit you, which earned him a swift elbow to his groin. Azriel teared apart just in time for the next customer to arrive.

With a sharp look that promised worst thing than an elbow, you left him in charge of the cookies and went to the front door.

Azriel hadn’t been allowed to see you before he big night. He had tried, but had received an arguable reason – that he would leave his smell all over you. As if he was a teen with hormone problems that couldn’t control himself. He was still fuming about it as he waited in silence by the throne, still pouting but intimidating.

His shadows were scattered all over the room, and he was purposefully ignoring Cassian’s warning glances. The last thing he could do to show his discomfort was terrorize a little their guests.

Rhysand had been introducing you in the dinner hall, where he hadn’t been allowed in. For centuries, the rules had kept Illyrian out of the finest and most elegant parts of the city, and it was one of the few rules he liked. He avoided pointless and tedious conversations waiting in the throne room.

“I bet Rhys he would wear line for a week you won’t last more than five dances” Cassian muttered under his breath, not looking away from the early guests. “Mor placed it at two”

“Glad my discomfort brings you joy, Cassian” he replied. “I plan to endure the whole night, if only for your troubles. What did Rhys bet?”

“Sex ban for a week”

Azriel rolled his eyes and finished the conversation. He was in for a long night, and he would try to endure it for you. Because you had looked so excited to be part of the plot, so bright and happy, he would never smudge that out.

The remains of your smile warmed his heart, and he relaxed a bit. You had been sitting right by his side as Rhysand went over the last details the previous night, listening to him like a hawk. Where you needed to dance, opposite from the entrance. Who you needed to charm or avoid, what you needed to act like.

He hated all of that, but he couldn’t deny that it made you happy. And whatever made you happy was worthy. The part he couldn’t stand was his absence during the grand dinner, during your introduction. It would raise many suspicions since Azriel never accompanied Rhysand there, therefore he had to wait at his usual spot.

Rotten on the spot with unusual nerves and doubts, he listened with trepidation the incoming steps.

“Don’t make me lose the bet. You don’t want to see me in a sex ban. Or Nesta” his brother announced quickly before the big doors opened.

“Shut up” Azriel hissed.

“A fair warning”

Rhysand walked in with cold indifference, Feyre walking by his side like the queen she was. His high-lord deemed worth the risk shoot him a warning glance, and Azriel thanked him, because it half-prepared him.

You walked right behind them, talking softly with Mor, and you were stunning. Beautiful. Bright. Radiant beyond the stars.

Azriel found the simplicity of your bakery uniform charming and perfect. The constant stains on your clothes, the sunny dresses you wore for your dates. Even training clothes made him stare longingly.

The dress you were wearing was long and dark, hugging all your curves and letting your left leg at plain sight. The cleavage lowered down to your waist, so low he could see the burnt scar you had gotten when you started your bakery. It showed your shoulders, your arms covered by a transparent, thin sheet of stars and bright dots. Azriel was glad he got a moment to digest the sight before seeing your exposed back.

You were so beautiful he stopped breathing, that he lowered his guard for the first time in that place. Someone could have tried to assassinate him from the front and he wouldn’t have seen them coming. Not when you were looking like a dream come true.

Rhysand was by his side before he could tear his eyes away from you, Feyre on his right.

“You may dance and drink and do whatever you like tonight” Rhysand motioned with a vague hand around. “But kneel first at your majesties”

“Lower” Cassian roared when only their heads lowered.

They all fell to their knees, as you and Mor watched by the side. While all their eyes were fixed on the ground, you looked at Azriel for the first time. He tugged frantically on the bond, proving Cassian wrong and behaving exactly like a hormonal teenager. You pulled back with a small smile – so small, so hesitant, that Azriel frowned.

It was different from the radiant one you had gifted him so many times during the last days.

He didn’t have to bother looking at Rhysand to have him speaking mind to mind.

“It’s her first time, she’s just nervous” his voice broke through the mental barriers, wary and full of concern. Azriel forced himself to look away from you, for your safety and his.

“What happened?”

“Nothing”

Rhysand knew him well enough to know he didn’t believe his answer, so he was met with flash of images of the previous dinner. How you had been introduced under predatory eyes, how your smile had died down a bit at the darkness and the coldness in their stares. Azriel’s whole body became alert as he watched through Rhysand’s eyes the dinner, no one daring to come close to you.

It would be different now, he knew, so he steeled his nerves as the first fae rose his head.

They rose up one by one, and when Rhysand just kept mumbling something in Feyre’s ears, they deemed safe to start moving. Music started playing and males started looking for the company of women. Azriel’s neck vein pulsed painfully when a lesser fae walked up to you and Mor, asking for your hand.

From up there, he could smell your hesitance. You would follow the plan, as Mor stepped out with a small vow, Nesta nowhere in side. Feyre would leave shortly too, and you would only have to stay there until they came back. But Azriel had to remind himself to breath when you were taken to the dance floor by another male.

He had to give it to the first one – he was respectful enough to keep his hands your waist and not lower them. Azriel felt his power roaring inside him the whole time, and he couldn’t help but stain his ears to listen to the conversation.

Through the dances you granted, he did that, ignoring the rest of the world and looking without seeing through the room.

You’re beautiful, how is it we haven’t seen you around earlier?

I have a son, he has lands and power. Would you like to know him?

I was hoping to catch you all night. What is such a sweet flower like you doing here?

You smell nice, unbonded

Rumors say you are an unmarried female. Such a pity

The comments grew more unfortunate the longer the night went. Rhysand power was gently holding him in place, reminding him the importance of giving the girls time. The High lord was looking too much at you, for his sake, so they wouldn’t notice Azriel acting like a boiling bull next to him.

And that started to draw unwanted attention, the notice of his High Lord staring at a woman. You were nothing like the female that had walked hours ago into the ballroom. Once you had seen what Hewn City was, what your mate had to work with, you were withering away – and Azriel noticed.

Azriel was seeing every drop of your smile, every muscle you tensed. Blood dripped to the ground behind him from how hard he was clenching his fists. His shadows curled in the edges of the room impatient, ready to attack. He broke every bet they had and then the last male walked up to you.

“May I have this dance?” Keir asked as you were dropped by your last companion. “You are hard to catch, my dear”

You brushed off the last feeling of discomfort from hands on you, all night, and tried to think quick. He had been one of the few males Rhysand had warned you to stay away from, but he had scared off any other options. And your friends weren’t back yet.

“I was hoping for a break” you tried to seem confident. “Sit this one out”

“Pretty things like you shouldn’t be sitting”

You bit your inner cheek, regretting the help you had offered. You had been regretting since you had stepped in the hall, and you had met Azriel’s eyes. The way they shone with worry and concern, the desperate tug on the bond. He had warned you and you felt foolish, because you thought you could handle it.

There were reasons in fate why you worked in a quiet bakery and he spent his life in dungeons.

“Shouldn’t have dance with every male in this room if you’re gonna get scared now” he chuckled, all void and dark. It made the hairs of your arms raise. “I won’t bite. Not too hard”

Apparently out of options, you accepted his hand and kept a straight face when he pulled you closer. If you were honest, you were too close to crying. Your feet hurt, your heart was pounding way too loudly against your chest and you had been touched way too many times. Every inch of your body felt dirty and wrong, and Keir certainly had big hands.

You had avoided Azriel’s eyes all night. You knew Rhysand was looking out for you, maybe to draw attention away from your mate. But that had made more males, the worst type it seemed, to become interested in you.

Keir was the last of a long list you had endured so far. He shamelessly inhaled when he pulled you closer, his nose brushing the space between your shoulder and neck. You convinced yourself it was his nose, not his lips, that traced your pulse point.

“You smell divine. So sweet” he commented, keeping you close to his body. “Have you been taken yet, dear? Has a male unfiled you?”

“That’s not a question I want to answer” you complained. You weren’t sounding confident at all, not with his hand pressing against your waist. It sounded more like another question itself.

“Oh, how I will like to see this city defile you. A little, sweet thing. Didn’t your mother warn you about wolves and rabbits?”

You kept quiet at his words, looking down at your moving feet. That way, he couldn’t see the way your expression broke. You noticed your lip quivering, your body trying to become smaller in his grasp. Just a dance, you reminded yourself. The heat of Azriel’s eyes was still present on your back, Rhysand glamour tight around you.

Keir’s shoes became blurry when your vision filled with tears. So desperately, you wanted to be home, with Azriel. You wanted Rhysand to never need you again, to have Keir moved to another continent along with the rest of that doomed city.

“I wonder if you’ll be as quiet in bed. How much will your father make me pay for you? Maybe we can arrange things for this week” Keir suddenly gripped the edge of your chin and made you look up, with a serious look on his cruel face. “Are you fertile, dear?”

The way he was speaking about you, his fingers gripping your face, was enough to make the first tear roll down. The male actually looked surprised at the sight, but once it had fallen, you couldn’t control yourself.

It could have been like that, you realized, if you hadn’t found Velaris. If Az wasn’t your mate, instead a male like Keir or someone worse. Your eyes searched desperately for him, without need to ask for help.

Azriel had reminded you many times that only one look and he would be right beside you, court matters dammed. He had made you say it out loud multiple times, had gotten you a small bargain tattoo on the back of your ankle. His eyes were already dark and troubled when you met them, his body ready.

He winnowed between shadows before anyone noticed, and then those same shadows were besides you. Keir’s fingers were ripped from you with a sickening crack, and you only saw Azriel’s fighting leathers. His rough hands tucking your face farther into his body, his shadows crawling up to your knees and calves.

They were cool against your sweaty skin, Azriel a calming and safe presence. Your face scrunched in a silent cry as you let your pent-up emotions consume you. You hugged him tight, not looking at the source of the screams.

“Scum” Azriel scoffed at the male in the ground, shooting Rhysand a warning glance.

“This is over. Forever”

“Azriel. They will know”

“Fuck you”

Rhysand could only witness in tense silence as Keir’s body tried to fight off Azriel’s shadows. Always so gentle around your body, they wrecked the male on the ground. They burnt his arms and snapped his fingers, squeezed his throat until his eyes budged. Azriel watched with murderous indifference as he held you trembling.

That was what he had wanted to tell you, to warn you about. You were capable of everything, you were brave and amazing. But that city was filled with trash and they could suck the life out of anyone.

“I want to go home” you whispered against his chest, your knees trembling.

“You have always been stupid, Keir, but you can always surprise me” Azriel growled, so primitive and feral that the room fell quiet. “Let’s see if you can quiet your screams tomorrow”

Feyre running out of one of the many doors was the last thing Azriel saw before winnowing you both away from Hewn City. He let his shadows hide you, but used his wings for good measure of protection.

In a few seconds, you were back in your apartment in Velaris, above your bakery, the sweet scent of summer nights filling the space. It no longer smelt like death and expensive perfume, like rotten flesh and arrogance. Azriel didn’t let you go as you squeezed his middle with a surprising force.

He knew what you needed without explanation. Carefully, he unlaced the dress on your back, his hands brushing any inch of skin those males had touched. Each trembling sigh, each tear he smelt on you, made him physically hurt to go back and kill them all. Pull at their limbs and hang them from their insides.

Rhysand would be hearing for him for a while, everyone in his family would. He squeezed his eyes shut as he listened to your whimpers, that stabbed into his heart like sharped knives. Azriel ripped the sleeves off your dress and could have burned it with the sheer force of his hate.

When you were finally standing with just your underwear, he allowed himself a moment of reassuring. Since the moment he had met your eyes, he was done for. The destiny of the world could have been in risk that he would have had still acted.

His hands were shaking too when he pulled your face away from his chest, cupping your cheeks. They were wet with tears, Keir’s fingers marked on your chin. He watched those beautiful eyes, that had shone at the idea of working with him, carry the burden of that night.

“I’m sorry” you whispered brokenly, your breath speeding up again. “I’m sorry I messed it up”

“You did perfect, darling. You did so good. So good” he assured you with passion, bringing your face closer to him until you couldn’t avoid his burning gaze. “They got out and you did perfect, but you won’t have to do it never again. I promise, Y/N, never”

You cried in his hands, and Azriel broke at the sight. What type of mate allowed their partner to go through that? To have strangers’ hands on them for hours? He hated himself a little bit more for that, but tried to hide it as he kissed your forehead.

He tangled his fingers between your locks as his lips lowered down your face. To your closed eyelids and wrinkles. Azriel kissed every tear, your nose, the edges of your pointed ears. He let his lips linger at the bruises on your chin, and found comfort at having Keir paying for them next morning.

Azriel ended up picking you between his arms, and carrying you to your room. It still held the remains of your excitement – scattered clothes close to the wardrobe, make-up products opened and half-used. He pointedly ignored them as he carefully dropped you in bed. Your arms didn’t unhook from his shoulders, and he didn’t complain.

“I hate them so much” he admitted in a whisper, close to your ear. “I hate them”

He had hated them since he was a child, had wanted to keep them away from you. He considered if moving to another continent with you was far enough, or if he would be forced eventually to kill them for breathing the same air. Those decisions would have to wait until the next morning.

Still on his leather clothes, Azriel let you lay on his chest and draped the sheet over your bodies. He ignored Rhysand’s talons against his mental shields, only hug you closer. He listened to every shaky breath of yours, caressed away with his thumb the last tears you shared.

“I’m sorry I doubted you” you said eventually, almost when Azriel thought you were asleep. Raising your head from his chest, you met his eyes. “You were right. I’m sorry”

“I wish I had been wrong. I… sometimes I wish it was different. That I worked in the Archives or owned a coffeeshop” Azriel talked just as quietly. “Then I could have you with me always. I hate my job, but I love my court. I love Velaris and I want it to be a safe place, so I gotta endure those things”

“I wish that was different too”

It was foolish to wish on things that couldn’t happen. Azriel would die before letting you close to that part of his life again. He wasn’t done by far with Hewn City or his own brothers, but that night he only held your naked body close. Every now and then, he would recall a certain moment of the night and remember the exact point a stranger’s hand had touched – Azriel would caress that same spot, feeling you hug him tighter.

Neither of you slept that night, and you didn’t open the bakery the next day. It took Azriel two days to be able to leave your presence without feeling the need to rip Rhysand’s head off his shoulder, five baths to erase the memories of those hands. Keir rotted in a cell, accompanied only by Azriel’s shadows, in the meantime.

Three days later, when Azriel came back to Hewn City after leaving you in the bakery, Keir couldn’t keep quiet.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @starsinyourseyes , @bakananya

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moncherellie · 8 months

Note

hii!! i saw you were taking requests so can u write an knight!ellie x princess!reader period piece?

it was never meant to be

a/n: thank you for the cool request! i don't know how i feel about this- never wrote for this time period before. it was a fun learning curve!! i hope you enjoy it. requests are open <3 please. please. tell me. smut or fluff or angst idc

-content/warnings: 1.8k words, fem!princess!reader x knight!ellie, arranged marriage/political marriage, mentions of reader having to marry a man, slight angst? happy ending though, feminine reader i suppose

You were a goddess amongst mortals, treading the Earth lightly and gracing the barren ground with flowering spring beauty. There was an elegance to your touch. Anyone blessed enough to know you were changed for the better, your kindness and charity caressing their soul like hundreds of dandelion wisps in the wind. Heads turned when you walked down the pathways, villagers hoping to get a glimpse of their beloved princess, to catch her stray gaze as she passed. You were the kind of person who would never be subject to malice; even if someone wished they could despise you, the love behind your eyes would soothe their violent minds. Your soul seemed to be sculpted by the hand of a creator who endowed you with pure goodness.

Ellie’s skin was etched with years' worth of hardship, mental fortitude carved into her perpetually crinkled brow. Dirt caked her bloodstream, poisoning her soul as it moved through her heart. Behind her eyes was no mercy, no forgiveness, only seeking vengeance on some imaginary being that had seen no value in her from the moment of creation. It seems the same deity that sculpted you had been corrupted as it created her, molding her heart of ashes and skin of rotten wood. She was a decades-old shattered, rusty sword thrown into a river. No value. No hope. Only a broken promise of a better future that had been forgotten.

But your merciful, generous sight had befallen her by some stroke of luck. You recognized something good within her and gave her the chance she'd always dreamt about. You sponsored her induction into knight training, looking past her fiery faults and into the essence of her spirit, finding a spark of virtue. You tended to it until the ember became a blaze, and Ellie Williams became a force to be reckoned with. Despite the whispers of naysayers around the castle, there was something honorable and just inside her. There would never be enough words in the English language for Ellie to express her gratefulness to you properly. Even if there were, she couldn't string them together- she was never skilled with words. Instead, her every step carried a purpose: to echo your goodness through her actions.

Every so often, she'd find a quiet moment and reminisce upon the years of hardship she'd endured in training. Initially, she'd been one of the weakest pupils, lanky and malnourished but with a lust for improvement. She would cry herself to sleep the first year, and every night, she'd sneak out to see the dear princess, who would hold her and assure her that she belonged. It took time, but Ellie began to believe her. She sought comfort from you night after night, conversation topics turning personal after Ellie’s mental health had begun to improve. You’d talk about nothing and everything: silly hypotheticals, stories of growing up. The juxtaposition between your upbringing and hers was comical, but you both found comfort in learning about each others’ lives.

When Ellie was with you, she felt like her social status didn’t matter. She was just a girl, and you were just the girl she was in love with. The class difference didn’t matter and neither did the impossibility of being together. Just two girls in love, neither with the courage to admit it.

The lingering touches turn into shy smiles as Ellie sits in your room. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls and silk kerchiefs cast you in warm golden light- you look like a sun goddess in a long linen dress, your well-manicured hand coming to rest on Ellie’s knee as you laugh at something she said. Her rude humor was a welcome change to the sterility of castle life. You grew tired of the roles forced upon you by your authoritative parents and court, and vastly preferred Ellie’s brash personality. Your parents would have a collective aneurysm if they knew you were mingling with the ‘peasant knight’ (their words, obviously), so the two of you were reduced to sneaking around.

Ellie’s smile dropped a bit as she felt your touch through her trousers. Her head felt dizzy and she attempted to compose herself, finding it hard to focus when your touch was so delicate and warm. Your call of her name was like a siren song, impossible to ignore its dulcet velvety tones. “Ellie?”

“Yes, Princess?”

You scoff. “Stop with the title. You know I hate it.”

Ellie smiles. A selfish thought crosses her mind- she wishes you were born normal, born in the village like her instead of in an ivory tower. Maybe then, things could have worked out. “That’s why I use it.” You laugh again, and she feels her stomach turn. Why couldn’t you be like me?

A week later, Ellie’s thoughts are the opposite. You sit in the throne room, grandiose decor embellishing the great chamber. Lavish royal purple flags and bright maroon banners drop and fold along the walls. Opulent chandeliers of pure wrought iron hang from the ceiling, supporting crystal fixtures through which valuable beeswax candles bathe the room in light. Stained glass rose windows and fleur de lys seem to further isolate Ellie, who stands guard by your throne. Invasive thoughts plague her as she keeps her professional face. I don’t belong here. I never have. I wish I was like you- then I could take you away from here. The thoughts are heightened when she sees the reason the entire town is gathered under the concave.

Four suitors from across the land vie for your hand in marriage. Ellie bites her tongue, her taste buds flooding with a familiar metallic sting.

They don’t really want you, not like I do. All they want is power. They don’t treasure your time or your kindness. You deserve more.

She clutches her spear, posture erect, seeming the quintessential knight. Only you noticed how her hand shook with nerves, how she seemed to hold onto the weapon as if letting go would kill her.

Each suitor takes time to introduce themselves. They focus on their own qualities, never talking about why they would be honored to be with you. And they would be. You sit on your throne, deep purple taffeta draping your body elegantly as you cross your legs. Aphroditic, a Hellenistic Roman statue come alive. Romantic, expressive, nymphlike in every way. If you were Euydice, Ellie thinks she must’ve been Orpheus. The anticipation of witnessing you choose your husband (and thus leaving her) was beginning to affect Ellie physically. Her heart felt like it would die in her chest: she swore she felt an arrhythmia.

First, the suitor from the East describes what he would gift you if wed. As if you would be swayed by material possessions. The suitor from the South notes his conquests. The changes in your expression are minute, but Ellie knows the look. You’re entirely disgusted, and she clears her throat to catch your attention. You look over, the unimpressed look still donning your face, but your eyes light up when you see her. Ellie smiles- a silent reminder: I’m still here for you. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

The Western suitor wears his pants inside out, and your eyes immediately meet Ellie’s. You cover your mouth with your hand, appearing classy while chuckling and snorting behind your cover.

The Northern suitor is handsome and decent, Ellie reluctantly admits. She’s not blind. She hates that she doesn’t hate him. He expresses interest in you and vows to give you autonomy. It’s basic, but more than the others offered. She tries to read your expression and for once, she can’t. It makes her heart drop.

After every suitor is introduced, you and your court go into the back room to discuss your final decision. The decision that, whomever you choose, will ruin Ellie. She stands guard before the door, straining her hearing to find some clue that you won’t marry these men. She begs silently to whatever immortal being watches over her.

You haven’t done much for me. I haven’t asked for much. But I’ll do anything to stop this. Please.

A knock at the door signals Ellie to move away. She takes your hand and leads you back to the throne. You sit, and Ellie has to will herself to let go of you. What if this is the last time she’ll be able to hold you? The thought nearly brings her to her knees. Her joints ache with every step she takes away from you, returning to her post in front of the chancel. Your father stands, his creaking bones the only sound in the room. Everyone holds their breath as he speaks.

It’s detached apolitical jargon that Ellie can barely pay attention to. She thinks that if she doesn’t listen, the situation won’t become real. To her dismay, your father ends his aloof speech and presents you. Sir Williams has never felt so sober.

Ellie watches with wide eyes as you stand. She peers up at you from below the stage, and she can’t help but realize what a perfect metaphor this is. You stand above her, gilded and unobtainable, while she looks up, dreaming of what could’ve been. Of course, she’ll support any decision you make, but she’ll never be happy with it. It seems time moves gruelingly slowly as she awaits your voice. At any other moment, she’d be hanging off your every word, waiting excitedly for what you have to share next. But now, she hopes the words never come.

You open your mouth, words leaving in slow motion. She wants to close your mouth to shut you up and kiss you so hard that you never think about anyone else again. She doesn’t.

“Dearest suitors, I thank you for coming here today. Your travels are long and treacherous and your efforts do not go unnoticed. As noted by my father, I have come to a decision regarding my spouse. I am firm in my choice, as this is the most chivalrous, goodhearted, and impressive person I have met. The only person who understands me.”

Ellie is used to you switching from your formal persona to your true self, but she never gets over it. It’s you, but it’s not you. You stroll along the chancel, in thought, and Ellie takes the chance to admire everything about you as if this is the last time she’ll be able to. Posture, gait, the way you hold yourself as if you’re sure about every action. She doesn’t know you’re terrified beyond belief.

Your finger comes out to point to a suitor. The great hall inhabitants draw a collective breath, Ellie included. You drag your finger from the right side of the stage, passing over the suitors of the East, South, and West. Ellie knows where this is going. Of course, you’ll choose North. He was the obvious choice, and she couldn’t fault you for that. And suddenly, your finger passes by him.

Ellie’s mind races. What’s happening?

Your body turns, and soon, Ellie stares down your hand, furrowing her brow. Her eyes are filled with childlike hope.

“Ellie Williams, if you’ll have me?”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams x fem!reader #knight!ellie williams #knight!ellie williams x reader #knight! ellie williams x princess!reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x fem reader #moncherellie writing #ellie williams oneshot #ellie williams tlou2 #fem reader

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megamindsecretlair · 6 months

Text

All of Me

Pairing: Kane x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Use of n-word. Phone Smut, mutual masturbation (fem and male) cursing, hella dirty talk, begging, possession kink, Daddy kink, teasing, all consensual. Established relationship. Brief mention of violence and murder. No spoilers for the show!

Summary: You were so dreadfully needy and Kane wasn't there to fix it. You decide to call him and tease him a little.

Word Count: 2,366k

A/N: Wanted to do a little sum'n for Thanksgiving while we all winding down from the itis. If I did Tyrone, I'd still be writing! LOL. Ya'll can thank @planetblaque for this! Kane's voice makes me so irrationally feral. Enjoy my rotten brain! Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I block ageless blogs.

Taglist: @browngirldominion @dayjlovesromance @flydotty @eggnox @blackerthings @hopelessdisasterr @sevikasblackgf @wide-nose-and-wonderful @monaeesstuff @notapradagurl7 @lovedlover @darkskinchristiandiorpostergirl @soft-persephone

This was so unfair. You tossed and turned. The cold sheet beside you felt like it was mocking you. You were horny and he wasn’t here. Your feverish skin made sweat gather everywhere.

Your fingers desperately rubbed at your clit, getting wetter by the minute. But something was missing. Or someone. Kane had been gone more often than being there with you. And it fucking sucked. But any time you brought it up, he started in with that smile. That head tilt. He’d simply follow you into the room and work out whatever your attitude was.

You pictured yourself riding him. His hands on your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and down on his dick. You wouldn’t be able to tell who was in charge, him directing your pace or you slamming down on his dick. Gripping him tight inside of you as if you meant to keep him there.

A low, ragged moan escaped you. Your orgasm steadily built higher and higher. You pictured that teardrop on his face. Pictured leaning down and licking it. You knew what it meant. You knew that he was a dangerous man. But then you imagined his voice saying dirty things.

Oh, almost there. Almost there. And…it was gone. “What the fuck!” You screamed into the empty room. That fucking bastard. You were so used to him filling you up that you couldn’t even get off by yourself anymore.

Randomly while taking a bath or shower, you could maybe get there on your own. But nothing else worked. He invaded every part of you. He commanded you, body and soul. And you fucking hated it.

You sat up in bed and cold air hit your damp back. That did little to dull your senses. Your clit was throbbing. You were needy. And he wasn’t here to work it out.

You grabbed the receiver on the nightstand beside you. As you dialed the warehouse’s number, you turned on the light. Your foot dangled off the side of the bed, bouncing as you waited for one of his stupid friends to answer.

“Put Kane on the mu’fucking phone right now,” you demanded.

“Yes, ma’am,” the little boy said.

You waited, chewing on your nail. You rubbed your forehead. Your fingers came away wet with sweat. This shit was embarrassing.

“Yeah, baby?” Kane’s deep, raspy voice came over the line and your pusy throbbed in response. Down girl.

“You need to come home, now,” you said.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Can’t come home just because I said?”

“We talked about this, mama. I was gon’ have to be gone for a while while I deal with business,” he said.

So fucking nonchalant. Kane hardly raised his voice. It was infuriating. Sometimes, you wanted to see what he looked like when mad. What it would take to make him react or do something out of character. It was toxic but you didn’t give a shit.

You refused to beg. You weren't some weak ass bitch begging for dick. And yet, you called. He was on the phone. You sighed, realizing how fucking stupid you looked sitting in the house by yourself all the time. You liked the solitude in the day time. You didn’t have to deal with anyone but your own company, just the way you liked. But at night, when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the bed no matter how hard you tried, it was lonely. It hit you all over again just how dangerous Kane’s life was.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this Kane,” you said.

Kane sighed on the other end. “You trynna tell me somethin’?”

You rolled your eyes. Your fever was starting to cool. You were still incredibly horny. But you weren’t going to beg.

“Naw. Bye,” you said.

“Wait, you called me. What’s up, for real? Talk to me, baby,” he said.

You listened to the rhythm of his voice. Listening to it, you were starting to get worked up all over again. With a word, he could light a fire under you. With a sentence…

“How long are you gonna be at the warehouse?” You asked. A kernel of an idea wormed its way into your brain.

“Not sure. Why?”

You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. You lay back against the pillows and got comfortable.

“Just wondering…” you said. You played with the coil of the phone.

Kane chuckled. “I know when you up to somethin’.”

“Me?” You asked, feigning innocence. “I’m just wondering how long I got to play with myself,” you said.

It was silent on his side. If it weren’t for the open air, you would have thought he hung up the phone. You trailed your hand over your tummy. Kane liked to place extra kisses there. You pictured him kneeling over you, placing soft kisses and watching how your belly dipped. He’d lick certain spots, guaranteeing a laugh from you.

“Are you touching yourself now?” Kane asked. He was deceptively calm.

“Mhm,” you said. Your hand went lower, slipping beneath your panties. “Wearing your shirt. The long sleeved blue one. And my panties,” you said. Your hand played with your curls and you tried to control your breathing. But this teasing was exactly what you needed. If his punk ass wanted to spend all his time at the warehouse, he ought to know what he was missing out on.

“Where’s your hand at?” Kane asked. You heard shuffling. A creak.

“Hm, over my pussy. Finna play with my clit the way I like,” you said.

“The way you like, huh,” he said.

You gasped as you moved your fingers through your folds. You were soaked. “Ohh,” you cooed. “I’m soooo wet right now.”

Kane sighed. “I’m gonna get yo ass for this, I hope you know that. Touching my shit without me,” he said.

“Oh, I’m so scared. If only I wasn’t so busy takin’ care of business,” you said.

Kane chuckled. He cleared his throat but it did nothing to soften his raspy voice. “You try to talk so tough. It’s kind of cute. But you forget that I know yo ass. You called ‘cause you couldn’t get yourself off, could you?”

You bit your lip, irritation flaring up. His ass would guess on the first try. Oh well, didn’t matter. You were getting what you wanted and that was all that mattered.

“Actually, I came before I called. Thought you might want to hear me cum again,” you said. You started to moan as you pictured whatever retribution he was thinking of. If he would spank you. Bend you over his knee. If he would fuck you in his recliner in the living room. If he would play you like a fiddle. If he would get straight to the point and fuck you stupid, not caring if you were wet enough for his big dick.

“You rubbing your pussy?” Kane asked. His voice went lower, more strained.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Slow it down then.”

“I need to cum,” you said. It had been a horrible night. After you smoked, you got so fuckin’ horny you were bouncing off of the walls. Kane didn’t like you driving by yourself. And he didn’t want you around the warehouse. He didn’t want to have to kill all them niggas for lookin’ sideways at your ass.

You hissed. Murder shouldn’t turn you on. But well, there was something so hot about the way Kane treated you. Like you were the lost City of Atlantis and he guarded the secret with his life.

“Listen to me, mama. I’ma do you this kindness ‘cause I know Daddy ain’t been around. You’re lucky you caught me in a good mood. So slow it down for me. Go slow, them little circles I know you like,” he said.

You listened. Damn him, but you listened. You slowed down, rubbing large circles around your clit. Your legs shook as the pleasure increased. Your breathing slowed with it.

“That’s it. Don’t that feel good?” He asked.

“Yes,” you whispered. Your head fell back against the pillow, your eyes rolling back to the ceiling.

“When I get home, I’m gon’ lick that sweet pussy of yours. Nice and slow, just like you rubbing,” Kane said.

“Oh shit,” you gasped.

“Gon’ push those thighs to the bed. You won’t be able to close ‘em, no matter how much you want me to,” he continued. “Hmm, run my tongue along your pussy. Fuck you with it.”

“Shit,” you said. You could picture that. His tongue fucking into you. His big hands palming your thighs. Your legs dropped open further, as far as they would go. Your hips moved, wanting him there right now.

“Mhm, slow it back down, mama,” he said.

“Kane, please,” you said. If you admitted that you lied earlier, you’d never live it down. He’d lord it over you until he found something else to mock you with. Your belly tightened, cramping with the need to cum.

“Listen to me, mama. You making me so fuckin’ hard over here,” he said.

“Really?” Your pussy clenched. You loved that you affected him just as much he affected you. That you weren’t alone in this obsession. You did as he said, slowing down again. Your fingers were drenched.

“I’m so wet, Kane. I’m gon’ have to wash these sheets,” you said. You chuckled, your voice breathy.

“Let me hear it then,” Kane said.

You held in a smile, your cheeks scrunching with the effort. You moved the phone from your ear and held it to your pussy. You played with yourself, nice and slow like he wanted. It was quiet in the room. So you heard how wet you were. You paid attention to the sound. It made you wetter.

Your ragged moans were dragged from your throat. You were so close.

You brought the phone back to your ear. Kane sighed and groaned. “Damn, little mama. All that for me?” He asked.

“Yes, baby,” you said.

“Mhm, what you ‘sposed to say?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned.

“There you go. You get that shit right. I shouldn’t have to correct you, right?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned.

“Now I want you to taste yourself. Taste how I’m getting that pussy screaming for me,” he said.

“Fuck.” You did what he said. Dragging your fingers past your lips and tasting your arousal. You moaned.

“I know it’s been a minute since you had this dick, you miss it, huh?” Kane asked.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you admitted.

“Was that so hard to say?” Kane asked.

“Boy, fuck you,” you said. But there was no heat in your words. He was absolutely right and there was no way that you could deny it. You needed this man. Needed. It should scare you to give so much of yourself to one person. To trust that he’d always be there when you fell. And he had never let you down.

True, moving here was not what you were expecting. You were just happy to have him out of prison and in your arms again. You waited. You deserved his time. Didn’t you? Didn’t you hold it down for him? Weren’t you strong for him? Didn’t you get by, day after day, living with the pain of not having the love of your life in your arms?

His side of the bed was always so painfully icy. Your hand would accidentally brush it and you’d yank it back as if it scalded you. It reinforced how empty your life had been without him. You could survive without Kane. It would hurt like hell, but you believed you could. You didn’t want to have to.

You wanted him here, beside you. Holding you. Kissing you. Making you laugh. Fucking you until you both couldn’t breathe. Until the rays of the sunrise poked through the curtains and illuminated his beautiful face.

“Put them fingers inside you, mama,” he said.

You did as ordered, pushing two fingers inside of you. You gasped. Your voice stuttered. Your fingers were a poor substitute for his thick dick. For the rock of his hips. For his hand on your throat. For his gorgeous eyes closed as he slammed inside of you. Like he didn’t want to be anywhere else. Like you were heaven and he was floating above the clouds.

You sighed and moaned. Kane encouraged you, wanting to hear every sound you made. You listened to his own uneven breathing as he jerked himself off. You pictured him sitting, rubbing his dick. Hard at the thought of you.

“I think…I’m cumming,” you moaned.

“That’s okay, mama. Let it go. You been doing so good. Let that shit go and cum for me,” he said.

You screamed his name as you finally came. The wild force of it knocked the breath from you. You felt like you were in the eye of the storm. Everything was still around you, but inside, you were twisting and turning. Roiling with the intensity of the storm. Your body bowed on the bed as your climax surged through you.

Kane groaned as he came. “Goddammit,” he muttered. He panted as he calmed down. You matched his breaths.

You felt so much better. You relaxed against the damp pillowcases beneath you. Your skin turned cold as that phantom fever left you with the orgasm. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you recovered.

Kane took in a deep breath and chuckled. “That’s all you get. I’ll come home and we gon’ talk about you on that bullshit again,” he said.

You giggled. “I’m gonna have to clean myself up. I’m thinkin’...bath. Candles. Definitely gon’ have to touch my pussy again,” you teased.

Kane was silent once more. You heard shuffling and random shifts from him. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m gon’ be home in twenty minutes and yo ass better be right fuckin’ there,” he said.

“If I’m not?” You asked.

“Don’t push me, little mama,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy,” you said. You tried to sound contrite but you both knew that you were happy as hell to finally get some dick. Twenty minutes wasn’t too long was it?

If you enjoyed this, there is more! The Secret Kane Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Kane Files #Kane x Black!reader #Kane x Black reader #Kane x Fem!reader #Kane x Fem reader #Kane x Plus size reader #Kane x you #Kane x reader #Kane imagine #Snowfall fanfic #Snowfall fan fic #Snowfall fanfiction #Snowfall fan fiction #Kane smut #Snowfall smut

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riswippiesx · 4 months

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Fallen God! Gojo Satoru X Fem! Reader part: one

| Part two

Thinking about fallen god Gojo, who had been living at a small village for a hundred years. People, who once worshiped him, now didn't even go near to his little hut. He lived by himself. When he went out, everyone used to go back inside their respective huts. The sheer loneliness made him distant and arrogant. His grumpy face scared people ever more. It was continuing untill oneday he met you. Your family had to change village because of some allegations about thievery. Your family was poor and helpless. To at least save your life, your parents had to change villages and thus you ended up reaching to the very village Gojo lived.

You didn't know much about the village stuff. You were twenty and full of energy. You had to explore and then you found gojo. His gorgeous blue eyes took a scrutiny of you from head to toe before approaching you with a grumpy expression. Unlike the locals, you didn't flinch a bit and stood stright infront of him and greeted him with a smile. This surprised Gojo, a lot.

From once or twice, it turned into daily meet ups between you two. Your bubbly personality brought peace and glory in his damp life. He smiled and talked with you. Everything was going well. You found yourself drowning in those blue eyes and he saw his soul intertwining with yours. It didn't took very long untill the friendship turned into something more. From friendly gestures to little blushes, you turned twenty five. Your parents wanted you to get married but knowing your past allegations, local men never accepted you. It wasn't like you want to be accepted either. You had already offered your soul to your fallen god.

It could have gone this way but life is a curse. Some unknown illness started to spread across the world, infecting almost everyone. Your village wasn't an exception. Your parents died. Soon the curse of this illness fell upon your life, blowing out all the candles you lit along with Gojo, all these years. The illness being dangerously contagious, no was was there to held the funeral for the dead ones. Bodies were thrown here and there, some, who were living alone, stayed inside, waiting to be rotten.

When Gojo found your body at a street side, laying lifelessly, his existence shattered infront of his eyes. He ran to you, picked you up. He was so powerless to rescue you. He couldn't. His blessing was often said to be turned into curses. Even for you, it turned into a curse, snatching you away from him, forever or so he thought.

Then the civilization progressed, people strated to use better technologies and started to live modern lives. Gojo had to change himself according to the era. He moved to a country side, lived in a cheap apartment, wore modern cloths, worked as a janitor for small offices, enough to handle his own little expenses. Everything changed but you stayed still in his heart. Never for once, he could forget you.

The god of fate was probably feeling a bit amusing, so he made Gojo meet a girl, who looked exactly like the girl he once adored and loved. When his eyes fell on the girl, buying some candies with a smile, he couldn't even trust his reliable eyes. You? It was you? It was really you?

He was quick to run to your direction. "Y/n...?" was all he could mutter which made you turn as you heard your name. "Yes?" you gestured him with a smile which was very known to him. It was enough to make his knees went weak. He kneeled infront of you. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he hold your hands with his. Your hands were as warm as he could remember. Your hands always warmed up his cold hands. "It is really you..." he mumbled.

Confusion was consuming you. You couldn't recognise the mysteriously gorgeous man infront of you. He hugged you, cried on your shoulder, your heart ached for some unknown reason. You let him untill he tried to kiss you. You felt uncomfortable and slapped him. Then pushed him away.

"Go away creep!" You started to walk away in annoyance. He would have followed you if the people of the street didn't stop him, suspecting him as a creep, trying to harrass girl. Did you come back for him?

No. You came back to live a better life. You were reincarnated. By fate, you had the same name. Gojo could clearly remember how the previous conclusion was. He couldn't let the history repeat itself. He would walk away. His blessing, rather his curse won't affect you for the second time. He missed your voice, he missed your sweet smile. But for his happiness, he couldn't push you further to your misfortune.

He started as you walked away with a disgusted face. Your hairs swayed with the air. His eyes softened, he was adoring you. He couldn't look away untill your silhouette blended with the further scenary.

"I love you...my love"

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ♡

(By the way, requests are open, you can send me requests, just check the pinned post on my profile to know which fandoms I will write for <3)

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 16 days

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❧ fireworks masterpost

❧ Summary: Atsumu had given up on the prospect of finding his soulmate years ago. He just wasn’t lucky like his friends, or so he thought. Because after an accidental meeting with a local painter, the volleyball player found himself entranced by someone who wants nothing to do with him.

❧ the soulmate principle: “The Soulmate Principle is the idea of two people being destined for each other at birth. These people are called soulmates. Soulmates will often instantly ‘recognize’ or be drawn to one another, even if they have never met. A soulmate couple are regarded as being ‘perfect’ for each other in every way. Usually, the soulmates provide each other with understanding, healing and strength. Soulmates are connected by a phenomena called the “silver cord,” or soulmate bond, which remains unbroken until death. It can be felt by a shock or a jolt of electricity when bare skin touches bare skin. Soulmates can also share emotions with each other through the bond.”

❧ warnings: verbal abuse, toxic af father, reader is exhibiting signs of mental illness, suicidal thoughts (nothing explicit), suggestions of suicide, mentions of physical illness, attending the hospital, mentions of cancer, mentions of injury.

❧ story format: written.

❧ word count: 3.2k

❧ part: three out of three | read part one here | read part two here |

❧ A/N: holy shit 500000 years later and it’s here! :( Sorry for the wait. also this is kinda dark!!?!?!? so be warned.

It took a single glance in your soulmate’s direction to plant an entire garden inside of your chest. It took a single conversation to turn those seeds into perfect little sprouts. Hope had begun to nestle into your lungs, making it easier to process the air and to breathe. It should have remained that way. Perhaps an intelligent individual would have taken the blessing and returned home. Perhaps they would have decided to call their soulmate rather than knock upon the door leading to a troubled past.

If only you were intelligent, or wise, or anything along those lines. Because it appeared you had forgotten that his words have always been far more lethal than poison. And it is exactly his words that set ablaze the garden of newly sprouted flowers, leaving behind ashes and the same emptiness you were so damn accustomed to.

How strange that the person who was meant to protect you from harm, was the one always inflicting it.

“Father?”

When you first entered the family home, your heart twinged uncomfortably at the memories suddenly attacking your serene mind. Nostalgia for some was a pleasant experience. But for you, being in the place where you grew up was merely exhausting. You should have taken the sensation as a warning sign - to abort mission and to leave before anything else could transpire. Yet, you continued along the hallway leading towards the living room, with your heart beating loudly inside of your ears.

The male sinking into the couch was barely conscious, and accordingly, did not hear your gentle beckoning. When your eyes finally landed on the familiar figure, the little voice in your head reminded you that this was your last opportunity to run... to leave.... to escape. The monster sitting in the heart of the home was not aware of your presence yet - you could easily slip out and pretend this never happened.

But for some masochistic reason, you were compelled to remain. Was it foolishness or bravery? Perhaps a sprinkle of both. Or perhaps it was something even far more sinister - hope. No matter what happened, you always craved your father’s love. You craved the affection that should have been granted to you the second you were born. Before, you had assumed that your father loathed you due to your rotten core. Your soul was merely impure, you had nothing to offer the world other than hardship.

But now... What if the soulmate connection was responsible for your father’s cruelty? What if your mother’s passing had impacted him in a way that could not be explained in a medical sense? What if he was the victim of something far beyond your understanding?

Or maybe, he was simply a man unfit to be a father.

The final thought is one that scares you the most. And yet, you swallow down the clog in your throat and venture two steps closer to the man who was responsible for the scars decorating your body.

“Father? Are you awake?”

Silence greets you instead of your father for the first minute. But then, the man ahead stirred, indicating that you would soon be granted an audience.

“Lila...?”

The mention of your mother’s name paralyzes you for a moment, as you blink widely at your father, awaiting a new form of recognition. A few seconds drag on by as the male drags a palm down his face, in an attempt to sober himself up. His dark eyes are still in a squint when his hand returns to his side, but from the fury flickering to life in his irises, it was clear he now knew who you were.

“No, of course not. She’s fucking dead.”

Unsure how exactly to react, tension was applied to your jaw. Under your father’s scrutiny, your chest constricted, with a familiar pain claiming the surface area.

Why did you come here? Why did you think this time it would be any different? Hope? Someone like you was never allowed to feel that damn emotion.

Hope was a luxury, one that you momentarily forgot you could not afford.

“Why are you here?” The older male doesn’t move when he speaks, instead his gaze continues to bore into you. It’s clear that he is no longer in a drowsy state. Everything that would be stated from now would be his sober thoughts.

“I... wanted to talk. If it’s a bad time, I’ll just -” The words barely come out as a whisper as panic seizes your throat. The air in the home began to decrease, with your lungs reacting in tow.

“Talk? What the hell would we have to talk about?” A humourless laugh rang inside of your father’s chest, drowning out the small noises you were once using to stabilize your breathing.

Where was the grandfather clock again? Maybe if you could find it -

“Are you here to steal the little life I have left? Is that it? You’re here to kill me.” The sound of laughter abruptly ends with the older male leaping to his feet. Rage animated his features as his tongue trailed over his chipped bottom lip. It was as though he was calculating his next set of words - determining what selection would send you completely off the edge.

“What...? No, I -” Liquid began to brew along your waterline, disturbing your vision. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise, as maintaining eye contact with your father was the equivalent of inserting daggers into your own heart. “I just... Why didn’t you tell me about the soulmate link?”

It was at that moment when you observed your father’s demeanour shift completely. His mouth fell agape yet an unrecognizable emotional sparkled in his eyes. It was an expression you’d expect from a gambler who won the jackpot. Or, an alcoholic who discovered a new bottle of whiskey.

But why in the world did he look like that right now?

“Oh, now I get it. You met someone, huh. Twisted how the heaven above gave someone like you a soulmate.” Lightly, he brushed the pads of his fingers along the stubble decorating his jaw. “You know what you have to do right?” The latter part is accompanied by the raise of an eyebrow.

But none of this is making sense to you. How were you supposed to know what he was referring to when he never discussed this topic?

“What are you talking about?” Inside of your mind chaos ensues as you recall your conversation with your therapist. Was there something you missed? What could it be?

Yet nothing could have prepared you for the answer your father provided.

“You should know. You have to kill yourself.”

The words were packaged with a smirk which smoothly communicated how pleased your father was with himself. And as your eyes expanded in size at the weight of his words, the devil disguised as a father continued to spew his falsehoods.

“So long as you are alive, you will torture that poor soul that is connected to you. So do the right thing for once in your life and kill yourself.”

Apologies begin to spill from your lips on repeat as the oxygen completely leaves your lungs. But it’s too quiet, and your father refuses to be silenced.

“You know what you are, y/n. You’re a disease. You killed your mother, you almost killed me and now you’re going to kill your soulmate.”

Your vision fully blurs, but there are slashes that can be seen. Blood is smeared over your hands, it’s staining the floor.

You’re bleeding. Oh god, you’re bleeding. The wounds of the past have been ripped open, and you’re drenched in the blood of those you have killed.

“She was fine you know. FINE. Until she was pregnant with you. Instead of a blossom of joy, there was you - a cancer - sitting in her stomach. You killed her. You killed her and killed me.”

You were no longer able to withstand the pressure associated with his words. With your knees losing their strength, your body soon collided against the cold floor. The crimson colouring your vision remained with you, though. Even as your fingers grazed the cold tiles below. Everything was stained. You were stained.

“So, will you kill another person, y/n? Will you?”

You knew you wouldn’t.

A heart wrenching pain sliced through Atsumu during the middle of practice, causing the setter to collapse onto the floor. He could vaguely hear his friends call out his name, and the frenzy of sneakers rubbing against the floor. Someone had their hand against his back, but the figure was a blur. Inside of his chest, the thin strings of fate had wrapped around his heart, cutting off the blood flow in the individual arteries.

And although he only had a limited understanding of the soulmate connection, he instantly knew that if he did not find you immediately, the connection would be gone.

You would be gone.

Because despite his strange fragile physical state, he knew that you were feeling something much worse. And all he wanted to do was to comfort you, even though you were not within his grasp.

And as Atsumu fought to remain conscious, his battle against the wreckage in his heart was one that he ultimately lost. And the last thing the blonde could remember was someone mentioning his brother’s name.

Everyone enters this world alone, and they leave this world alone. That is the infamous quote that is often weaponized by religious figures in order to drive fear into the hearts of believers. But the quote fails to account for the time spent on this earth. Was it meant to be so tragically lonely? What is the purpose of life, if you are plagued by loneliness from birth until death?

The question weighed heavily on you as you returned home. And the weight of the question appeared to increase with every passing hour. To be honest, you would have remained stuck in place on the tilted flooring if your father had not forcefully removed you from the home. He had guests to entertain, but you did not stick around long enough to see anyone approach the front door.

Perhaps this was total defeat.

You were done.

At some point, it becomes far too much to bear. The voices inside your head no longer lose their ferocity; instead they gnaw away at soul until there is nothing left. How can you move past it again? How many times will you push through another heartbreak? How much more were you expected to endure?

The following 24 hours are far from bearable. Food was barely digestible. Water was barely consumable. Despite your inner will to transfer the weight from your shoulders and onto the canvas, you could not paint. Instead, you found yourself surrounded by damaged brushes, tattered canvases and a collection of paint. And all you could do was sit in the center of the tornado, hoping that your next breath would be your last.

Because breathing wasn’t worth it, not if it meant hurting him.

But it seemed that the thin string keeping you from collapsing into eternal darkness had its own plans. And it begins with a phone call from an unrecognizable number and the strange urge to answer it.

“Hello?” The phone was wedged between your hand and ear loosely as you waited to see who had sought you out.

“Um, hi. Is this y/n?” The voice was unfamiliar yet it was the tone that had captured your curiosity. Why were they afraid? “This is Osamu Miya. You’re my brother’s soulmate.”

Electing to remain silent, you waited for the male to continue. It seemed that he was eager to say something.

“I’m sorry for being so straight forward but my brother is in the hospital. And the doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong with him. I just.... Can you come? I know I’m asking for a lot. But can you?”

Upon hearing the younger twin’s words, you almost lost control over your phone.

“Atsumu is in the hospital... Where?”

The second that Osamu provides you with the knowledge of how to reach your soulmate, you’re already halfway towards the front door. The thoughts that were plaguing you for the last 24 hours had been overcome with the image of Atsumu. If he was the sun above, then you were the moon, who was nothing without the sun. The moon, which needed the sun to shine at all. The idea of anything happening to Atsumu was unbearable, and it made your inner struggle seem like child's play.

When you arrived at the hospital you recognized the black haired boy from the shop first. Suna approached you instantly; there was also a girl beside him who you did not recognize. He introduced the female as his fiancée, before guiding you to the room Atsumu was assigned. A sympathetic expression was offered to you by the other female, but you were too frazzled to respond to it.

With each passing second the sound of your heartbeat became louder and louder, it was almost deafening.

What would you do if something happened to him?

Was it your fault? What would you do if it was?

“Oh. You must be y/n. Well, he’s awake and being annoying. So go talk with him, please.” Osamu’s voice ripped through your inner torment returning your attention to your surroundings. But it was his close resemblance to his brother that had swayed you for a brief moment.

A weak nod was given in response as you began to process what was just conveyed to you. Atsumu was being annoying? So he was conscious? How could someone like him be considered annoying, though?

The answer to some of your questions was bestowed upon you when you entered the hospital room. Inside, the blonde was sat upright with curiosity animating his features. However, the curiosity was short-lived. Instead, a mixture of emotions had the male seconds from jumping out of his bed. If he had not been connected to an IV, he would have ran straight towards you. So, at most, all he could do was straighten his posture.

“Y/n?! You’re here!? Are you okay?”

It’s the latter half of his question that brews a fresh round of tears. And when guilt brings a sad pout to form on Atsumu’s lips, it was impossible to contain the liquid hanging on your waterline.

“You’re asking if I’m okay when you’re the one in the hospital?”

How could you possibly deserve him?

“Ah, y/n. C’mere first.” Lifting the hand with the IV tube attached, he motioned you forward before patting the empty spot on his bed. “This is just a formality, they’re keeping me because they don’t know what’s goin’ on. But I know something has been goin’ on with you, right?”

Even though the monstrous voice inside of your head warns you of getting closer to the setter, your feet carry you closer to your soulmate without hesitation. The warmth and consideration emanating from the male had your mind and body out of sync.

“You could sense it?” The words were whispered out as you accepted the seat beside him. And now that you were both in close proximity again, you were unable to bring yourself to catch his gaze. Instead, you focused on playing with your fingers.

“That’s how the bond works, y/n. Whatever you feel, I feel.” Despite your efforts to avoid his gaze, the blonde titled his head, aiming to capture it. “I won’t pry into what happened, okay? But I realized that I can’t just leave you alone to suffer. I need you to know that you’re not alone.”

When his attempts became futile, in a daring gesture he put his own calloused hands on top of yours. A light blush colour flooded your cheeks, but you made no effort to remove his hands. This time, the soulmate connection did not burn or tingle in a painful manner.

All you could feel was love.

“I’m not good for you... You’d be better off if I was gone...” The acidic liquid continued to travel down your cheeks as you bowed your head down, seeking to cover your disheveled state.

“No, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t think I can live in a world that you’re not part of.” Seeing as you did not deny his physical forms of affection, Atsumu elected to take it one step further. Gingerly, he reached out to brush away your tears with his index finger. “I don’t know what happened to you, and it doesn’t matter. Because I’ll show you that life is worth it.”

When Atsumu began disposing your tears, the flow only increased mercilessly. Soon, his hand was cradling your face, and it was impossible to not lean into his touch. He was just so warm, so so warm.

“I just want you to be happy.” The words that were choked out between a sob held such sincerity that Atsumu himself had to battle off his own tears.

“Yah? So if I ask for something selfish, will you agree to it? I promise it’ll make me happy.” For the first time since you had entered the room, he finally secured eye contact with you. Inside of his chest, his heart throbbed at how beautiful you were. How did he get so lucky?

“Anything. I’ll do anything.”

“Stay with me. Don’t ever leave my side. You do that for me, I promise you I’ll be happy for the rest of my life.”

Silence overtook the space around you for a minute. Though the two of you refused to break off any of the physical contact your bodies shared. And through the soulmate bond, the setter sought to silently communicate how much he wanted this. How much he wanted you.

“Atsumu...” Completely overwhelmed by a storm of emotions, all you could do was breath out his name. So much had happened in a small period of time - what was the right choice? Honestly, you did not know.

“And I think I can make you happy too. Even if that sounds a bit cocky. I just, really think I can do it.” The blonde packaged his words with a reassuring smile, one that aided you in making your decision. Although, you still had to ask...

“What if you regret this?”

“I won’t. Not now. Not ever.” The answer comes without missing a beat, he was prompt in shutting down any of your outstanding concerns. He could see that the barriers you had built were slowly crumbling. And it only takes another 42 seconds before you provided him with the confirmation he was desperate for.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

The words had barely left your mouth when Atsumu enveloped you into his embrace. The same hand that was caressing your cheek was now smoothing your hair as he clutched you closely. It was a form of affection you had never received. Yet all you could hope was to remain in his grasp forever.

“I’ll be honest, y/n. Even if you regret this decision, I won’t back off without a fight. I’ll be the most annoying cockroach you’ve ever seen.”

Not quite understanding his warning, you blinked in short intervals, earning you a heartfelt laugh from the setter. The level of adoration he held for you was bottomless, and you could see yourself happily drowning in it.

The most important thing was, Atsumu didn’t want you to die for him. He wanted you to live for him.

And that made all the difference.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu x you #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #Miya Atsumu #atsumu haikyuu #hq atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n

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