#so many people to name that I forgot who was in this part

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Part I: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Part I: On her daily morning run, Y/N wonders if she’ll ever have someone who wants her simply company. Spencer promises her just that, the only catch: she has to wait seven years.

Rating: Eventual smut, fluff and longing

Word Count: 3.5K

Series Masterlist | Tell Me What You Think!

My Mind Turns You Into Folklore: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Running, somehow, still made her feel like a child. Perhaps there was something unadulterated and carefree about losing yourself in the pounding of pavement. When Y/N felt the wind rush in her ears and the familiar burn throughout her body, she truly felt alive.

Her entire body ached— no, screamed— as she approached her fifth mile for the day’s session. For Y/N running wasn’t about getting to the destination fastest, but about finishing the race altogether.

She wished she could apply such wisdom to very particular aspects of her life. Namely, her love life. For Y/N, relationships with men were unpleasantly predictable. From terrible blind dates with friends who she honestly can’t tell if they meant well to men with habits so strange Y/N could only plead insanity by a drunken state as to why she entertained even a second glance. Unfortunately, for her the sea of men seemed to solely be comprised of rather the unfortunate sort of men that made her skin crawl.

Her knees burned as her mind ran through the five weddings and babies that were impending. Between cousins, college friends, and even her own sister all either, Y/N never more lonely than when she was surrounded by her people. There was something particularly voyeuristic about watching those you love move along the carousel while you’re left in the dust. She was a casual observer, marooned to the sidelines. And someone where along the way she forgot to even care.

Her chest burned as she wondered where her aunt, a woman born and forged from pure spite and hefty lack of tolerance for anything progressive, would sit her at her cousin’s wedding. Y/N heaved forward imagining what would be worse; the discarded old widow’s table with wives whose husbands’ expiration date had come and passed. Or with her unruly nephews who would have to be wrestled into a tiny tuxedo and bribed with fried food and the majesty of Red40 to maintain the semblance of civility.

Being 27, husbandless, boyfriendless, and childless didn’t usually bother Y/N. She loved her peace. But somehow it put her into this plane of existence where she straddled youth and adulthood. She had one foot jammed deep into the rich, sodden earth of childhood and one toe dipping too all too calm to be safe waters of adulthood. Yet being uncoupled was as if she purchased overnight shipping to the elephant graveyard.

It was antiquated. It was downright sexist, yet there was a small part of her heart and her entire being that craved to be taken care of by a man. She wanted someone to bring her flowers just because, to hug her from behind while she stirred soup for dinner on a chilly day, to brush her hair from her face as he brought her to the brink of pleasure time and time again.

There was only so much her vibrator could do.

But a heart that ached to be loved, that problem didn’t come with a WebMD link. There wasn’t a quick and easy fix to change something that defined her on a molecular level.

She savored the sweet breeze that reminded her of summer and childhood. The houses, various shades of blue, gray, and beige blurred past as she maintained her steady pace.

Y/N rounded the corner and pounded the pavement that led to Betsy’s Cape Cod. She was the Head Librarian and took Y/N under her rather Mother Goose-like wing three years ago when she took the position at the small, sleepy library. A suburb of Quantico, many of the patrons were families in public service.

She even stumbled across someone who quickly became her best friend, Spencer. He was some sort of former child prodigy turned adult wunderkid. After racking up more diplomas than most extended families collect, Spencer worked as a special agent for the FBI. But looking at him, you would never have guessed. He was timid and shy in a boyish way that made him seem much younger than 32. He was tall and lanky, yet despite his slender frame he seemed to completely light up every single room he walked into.

Both Betsy and Spencer buried themselves into the fabric of her life. Betsy sat on the front porch, slowly swaying on the large, wooden swing. A crocheted blanket lay over her lap, keeping her warm under the brisk morning’s chill.

“Y/N!” Betsy called, as she ascended the stairs with a bright smile, “Dearie, it’s far too cold for you to run out here.”

“I could say the same about you, Bets,”

Betsy dismissed Y/N with a coy smile and a wave of her hand. “It’s good for my old bones to get a little chill. Make sure everything is in working order.”

Betsy scooted over on the porch swing, making more than enough room for Y/N to sit.

“That tall kid? Hmm, Spencer? Yes. Spencer. Was in there looking for you yesterday. Poor kid’s entire day was ruined when I told him you were on a date. Now, is there a reason why you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell your best friend?” Betsy asked, not hesitating to ask a question that went straight for the jugular.

Y/N offered Betsy a weak smile. “There wasn’t anything to tell him. He’s not interested in my love life. We talk about books. And work. And… I don’t know…”

Betsy nodded, but her pointed look pressed Y/N to continue. There wasn’t anything romantic between her and Spencer, but that wasn’t to say the connection wasn’t the most important thing in her life. When she met him three years ago he simply waltzed into her life; a tall, gangly man with a large appetite for baked goods and an excellent taste in literature.

“Besides, he has a thing for his coworker. Even though she hardly acknowledges his existence.”

From the time she met Spencer, he constantly was talking about his teammates. Growing up, Spencer didn’t have a stable family life. His mother tried her best, while his father never tried at all. He grown up not knowing what it was like to belong anywhere and now he finally found something resembling a family.

JJ was blonde and skinny and perfect and Spencer was completely enamored with her. Y/N met her only a couple of times, the first after a football game. She shared a plate of cheese fries and gravy with Spencer’s other coworker, Penelope as Spencer attempted to spout an almanac’s worth of facts about football to JJ.

“Hmm,” Betsy murmured, swinging back and forth. “Well, he said he has to talk to you about something. Maybe he’s getting to his senses, finally.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipped some of the ice cold lemonade Betsy handed her, and gave her a pointed smile.

“This isn’t a romance novel, Bets. You’ve been sneaking too many of those bodice rippers.”

She stood up and felt some relief as her weary muscles stretched. Betsy waved another annoyed hand.

“Quiet down, Missy. I’ve had my chance at love. And I fully intend on you and Spencer being an item. My Arnold, may that old bastard rest in peace, never gave me children, so you and that boy are my only chance to fill this house with grandkids.”

“Oh my God, Betsy,” Y/N groaned, her head tossed back, “It’s not like that between us. And I promise you, it never will be.”

Y/N took off before Betsy had the chance to respond. But she couldn’t shake the funny feeling tugging at her heartstrings. She thought that maybe if she just focused her mind on feeling the wind blow her hair and her body burn as the third mile turned into a fifth, she could wash away the thoughts of one or two little children sitting on Betsy’s porch, sandwiched in between her and Spencer.

***

Gary, as it turned out, wasn’t a nice guy. First of all, he showed up precisely 23 and a half minutes late and hardly bothered to greet her as he sat down at their two seater table. He barked a drink order to the waitress, who graciously threw Y/N a sympathetic smile.

“So you work at Walter Reed?” Y/N asked, attempting to make conversation with the man seated in front of her. He was a couple years her senior and an Attending Emergency Room Doctor. On paper Gary seemed wonderful. He had a nice family; older sisters were always a green flag in Y/N’s book and seemed to have a basic grasp of personal hygiene practices.

Gary mumbled as the waitress brought him his drink: whisky on rocks. He downed it in about three minutes and signaled for the waitress to return.

“Sorry,” Gary apologized, his voice so close to resembling being embarrassed, but it, somewhere along the line, made a beeline in the opposite direction, “There was some bitch in the ER today complaining about how her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she was pregnant. Took me a god damn hour to shut her up. Jesus, reminds me why I don’t date.”

Y/N felt her face freeze. It was like his harsh words poured ice water over her shoulders. Her skin practically crawled as Gary’s carelessness settled in. Wasn’t this a date? Or was this simply the means for Gary to get into her pants.

“Hold up,” Y/N said, gesturing with her hand held up to stop Gary’s rant, “I was under the impression this was a date. Is it not?”

Gary shrugged. “As long as there’s a happy ending with you, babe I don’t give a fuck.”

He was crass. Y/N was far from a prude. She enjoyed her time in college and didn’t mind the occasional quick one night stand when the opportunity presented itself, but there would be something completely debasing and revolting about sleeping with the man sitting before her.

“I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.” Y/N said, her words clipped and stern: there wasn’t room for Gary to mix up any bit of her message. “I’m not looking for a fuck-buddy. And even if I was, it certainly wouldn’t be you. We’ve been sitting here for all of twelve minutes and you’ve already drank two whiskys, been rude to the waitress, insulted a patient, and offended me.”

Gary, in a lackadaisical way that could only be described as a fuckboy with the worst case of Peter Pan syndrome, shrugged his shoulders. He downed the rest of his second whisky, “You’re a frigid bitch anyway.”

He left.

And Y/N laughed. Then she ordered two slices of double chocolate cheesecake and asked the waitress where the closest liquor store was.

***

Silently, she cursed Spencer’s charming love of buildings with character. She bounded up the steps to his apartment, the plastic bag with the two slices of cheesecake banged against her leg. Her other hand clutched the neck of a cheap, screw top rose.

Her date, disastrous, was nearly comical, and she couldn’t wait to recount the details to Spencer.

They share a sort of sadistic penchant for relaying moments for their occasional first dates. Typically, Y/N had more than Spencer. On the rare occasion Spencer did have a date, Y/N found herself trying to explain that any girl in her right mind would attempt to flirt with Spencer, but he refused to see her points.

Not bothering to knock, Y/N opted to use the spare key Spencer gave her. She figured he’d either still be working at the office or would be too engrossed in his latest fantasy novel to bother answering the door.

Spencer’s apartment was painted a dusty, sage green. The farthest wall was lined with built-in bookshelves. A prewar relic, Spencer’s style mixed perfectly with the vintage quality embedded within the walls.

Up until recently, Spencer’s kitchen was hardly used. But Y/N had taken it upon herself to teach Spencer the basics in prepping meals. He was a quick study, as with almost everything he tried. And it gave her some peace knowing he would be able to provide himself something more satiating than granola bars and frozen lasagna.

“Spencer! Spence!” Y/N called out, dipping her head into Spencer’s second bedroom. There was a queen bed in there with a cream colored quilt splashed out on the bed.

On late nights spent watching old, black and white movies or binging episodes of The Twilight Zone and The X-Files, she would crash there. It was a fight for her to even concede to allow Spencer to purchase the queen bed. Y/N claimed that she was fine just sleeping on the couch, but Spencer insisted that she sleep in a bed.

And if Y/N had been born into a braver soul, she would’ve suggested they share his bed three years ago.

Spencer shuffled out of his bathroom, eyes red and weary. He wore a tattered Cal-Tech shirt and plaid pajama pants. He wore his glasses. They rested on the bridge of his nose and made him lose at least four or five years on his already young looking face.

“She’s pregnant.”

“I brought wine. And chocolate cheesecake.” Y/N replied, kicking her shoes off. “And you better have done laundry already because I am not sleeping in this dress. I feel ridiculous in it.”

Spencer’s eyes raked over Y/N’s frame, as if he was internally debating his thoughts on her outfit. His brow furrowed. “You’re date?”

“Asshole.” Y/N said, walking into the kitchen. She plucked two wine glasses from Spencer’s cabinet and two plates. “Arrogant and only wanted a quick fuck.”

His voice disappeared as he went into his room for a change of pajamas. They were freshly washed. She continued to listen to Spencer as she shut the bathroom door and changed behind. His voice was no longer muffled when she came out of the bathroom, but she did notice how Spencer’s eyes still were heavy with something unfamiliar when he looked over her baggy, old pajama-clad frame.

“You’re not the girl for that.” Spencer commented, reaching for the corkscrew. His large hands twisted around the device and the bottle of wine made a satisfying pop.

“You don’t know that.” Y/N countered, her defiance made a crop of red appear on Spencer’s cheeks. “Besides, that’s not the point. JJ’s pregnant. With that New Orleans guy’s baby?”

He nodded. It was as if grief washed over Spencer as Y/N changed the conversation. She knew that Spencer was harboring feelings for JJ. Jennifer was nearly perfect in every way. The only imperfect thing about her was that she didn’t realize how perfect Spencer was. He would’ve adored JJ if he got the chance. He nearly did.

“And how do you feel about that?”

Spencer groaned, pouring himself a healthy cup of rosé. “Unsure. It’s not like I’m going to confront her about this. She’s practically engaged to Will. And now there’s a baby in the picture? A baby who’s very well going to grow up seeing me as Uncle Spencer.”

He sounded exhausted. Y/N touched his hand and squeezed. She understood the pained loneliness that plagued Spencer’s voice. “I don’t love JJ anymore. It’s just, my whole life I felt like I was so far beyond my peers. And now? They all finally have caught up, this time the tables have turned. God, I’m excited when a girl smiles at me, let alone goes on a date with me.”

Weakly, Y/N smiled. She sipped her rose, “So it’s more of feeling like you’re far beyond in life? Despite having two PhDs and like three undergrad degrees? You’re one of the most accomplished men I know, Spencer. And we all move along at our own pace. Don’t compare JJ’s story to yours.”

He nodded, spooning a bite of the double chocolate cheesecake. “It’s just…I’m nearly 32. And now I’m watching JJ and Hotch and Morgan talk about babies and husbands and wives and houses. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be lucky enough to get that one day. Sometimes… I think I’m too me for anyone to fall in love with me.”

Y/N felt her heart shatter into a million little pieces as Spencer’s honest confession striked her entire system. She wanted to reach out and push away the stray curl that hooked itself in front of his eyebrow. She wanted to reach out and wipe away his tears. She wanted to tell her friend that if no one married him, she would.

She stalked off the to couch, needing a stable place to sit. Her chocolate cheesecake stuck to the roof of her mouth and the bitter rosé did nothing to remove it.

“Holy shit, Spencer. Do you not realize that you’d make any girl happy? You’ll find her one day, I know it. And if you don’t, we can just say fuck it and get married. I mean, I know it wouldn’t be romantic love, but we could at least live together. Through a big fancy party and get dressed up nice and getting drunk on mojitos with my best friend. My person? Sounds fun.”

“You mean that?” Spencer asked, half in disbelief and half in wonderment. “You mean that we’ll get married if neither of us have someone…say seven years from now?”

She must’ve drank more than she thought as she waited for Gary to ruin their date. “I meant it. But why seven?”

A smile toyed on Spencer lips. She noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“It’s my lucky number.”

Her lips were so loose that it threatened to crack open her heart. She had a nasty habit of wearing that on her sleeve.

She gave Spencer a sheepish look as his eyes met hers. He looked half between incredulous and hopeful. His fingers ran across the rim of his wine glass as the wine sloshed around. It mirrored Y/N’s stomach.

“Is this idea like bad shit crazy?” Y/N asked. “I mean it. I mean, why not. It’s not so different from what we do now. Just all the time. And I’d be thrilled to be spiritually required to spend more time with you.”

“Should we….shake hands or something. I’m not the biggest fan of that, but I think my wife would serve as an exception to the rule. To every rule I’ve got?”

Y/N laughed. She felt the wine creep up a nice, warm flush against her skin. It matched the light and easy way her limbs felt. It might have very well been the wine, but there wasn’t much of anything that could trump laughing with your best friend. Especially when that best friend slipped and called you his wife.

Her feet somehow ended up in Spencer’s lap. His thumb rubbed gently against her ankle, barely touching her bare skin. Yet it sent shockwaves that she didn’t quite understand.

The corners of Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he reciprocated that laugh. They shared it and Y/N had the strangest desire to bottle it up. She wanted to store this moment in her mind and come back to it. One day. Some day.

“We’ll get married,” Spencer started speaking as if it was a prophecy that he could set in stone, “if neither of us has anyone, we’ll enter this rather odd, rather complex, yet completely entirely normal and simple marriage in seven years?” His sweet, yet coy smile was boyish, it only reminded Y/N just how far away 35 was for her.

“Should we draft up a contract?”

“Have your lawyers contact my lawyers. I never sign documents without the proper legal support. In the meantime, could we settle on our first stipulation: never watching a new episode of our current favorite show without the other?”

“I agree to the terms and conditions you’ve set out.” Y/N said. She grabbed the blanket that rested on the back of the couch as Spencer turned off the lamp light.

“Oh and I washed the sheets in your room. I used the detergent you like. And your pajamas. The lavender vanilla one with the scent beads?” He flipped on an episode of The Twilight Zone.

She smiled from the way Spencer naturally called the guest room her bedroom. There was something very domestic and peaceful about him using her favorite detergent to wash the sheets in her room in his apartment. It resembled the exact something that she was craving: being taken care of.

She sipped her rose again, watching as her friend smiled at the gray scale painted on the screen. It was too bad she only had to weight over half a decade to feel it and not feel guilty and like she was lying to herself.

—

Taglist:

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @mrs-dr-reid @reid-ingandweeping @candlesandsoftrain @foxy-eva @queermaxwooo

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction

[leam1983]

Lisan al-Ghaib

The Hellsite has a thing against White Savior narratives, and for good reason. The idea that general-purpose Natives have some elixir for mindfulness, mental health or even sociopolitical stability is nothing new. It's as tokenistic as you think if you take it at face value, but I think the more classic examples in the genre like Dances With Wolves or, God forbid, Avatar (a revised copy of the previous title, in many ways) tend to focus on something that's a smidge more positive - namely in that the Other - not the Noble Savage, so much as someone with an entirely external perspective - has the power to help us progress. A very debatable posture.

In effect, the classic examples in the genre contend that it's not really about "saving the Natives" or even becoming their saviour, but rather about the unformed or troubled protagonist finding themselves thanks to the Natives' input. I've always thought that Wolves' Sioux never needed Dubar, Dunbar needed them. The Na'vi never needed Jake Sully, some other member of the people would've eventually filled in the blanks and become Toruk Makto. Instead, Jake Sully needed the Na'vi to fix himself. There's nothing magical there, despite the First Nations spiritualism that mostly coats the genre, ripped out of its context and sort of propped up the same way mindfulness is now pulled out of its own context and served up to the masses, as if living with a little anxiety or stress were somehow a symptom for something more insidious. The world forgot Herbert's object lesson, and suggested that for some people, especially damaged goods, the only way to find purpose is to subsume yourself in another culture. You emerge as the saviour, kill the monster, and fulfill your role in the story.

Taking up someone else's problems to fix yourself isn't an actual solution; I think any two-bit psychologist could tell you that. Even if Dunbar and Sully emerge whole and healed from their own tales, they're behavioural abnormalities. Power doesn't allow you to stay humble. Power corrupts.

Ask Shaddad. Ask the Bene Gesserit. Ask the Harkonnens, who never saw their end coming.

Back when Frank Herbert first wrote Dune, Eastern mysticism was taking off much in the same way we're seeing meditation and yoga. He pulled an interesting bait-and-switch in showing us a protagonist who seemed set to go from a mostly nameless aristocrat to your typical conquering hero - but he realized that some faiths can be noxious. Some currents can twist the mind. After all, Paul Atreides' own stories addresses the fact that he comes to align with fundamentalists, and does so willingly.

In many ways, George Lucas tried to play the same melody with Anakin Skywalker being set up as the Force's hero, only for the will of the Galaxy to be made manifest through his son, instead. The problem is, unlike Herbert, Lucas lacks subtlety. The danger of messianic thinking more or less deserves a dream-state vignette on Dagobah, where Luke beheads Vader and sees his own face in the depths of his father's mask. Herbert, in comparison, makes those fears concrete. Paul was on shaky ground the moment he embraced the moniker of Muad'Dib, and slipped into something I might as well call psychosis, after drinking the Waters of Life.

Chani lost the man she fell in love with. Paul Atreides lost himself.

White Savior narratives aren't meant to be seen as the Civilized Man saving the day. They're meant to be seen as an outsider protagonist needing an external point of view to face the abyss, more or less.

If you're an optimist, the protagonist is thankful for the wisdom he's received and plays his part, not for prophecy or for Ego - but for basic care and consideration. Consider Shogun's Blackthorne, by the end of the series. He wasn't one to calculate his next move - he's clearly a man of passion. Japan gave him something to hold onto - and then squeezed around him like a vice made up of niceties and political manoeuvring. Yoshii Toranaga, on the other hand, is the chess player. Blackthorne's fate is the grimmest of the brighter ends of the White Savior genre. He didn't save anyone or anything; he merely proved useful.

If you're a pessimist, you turn to Dune or to any of your local Fire-and-Brimstone preachers.

Considering, when I hear the Hellsite dismiss Dune as just another story written by a White guy about some other White guy saving some vaguely Middle-Eastern-coded people; that tells me a lot of armchair critics haven't picked up the books or watched the movies.

If anything, Dune's very premise gives reason to those of you who decry Colonialist rhetoric. Dune isn't just a seminal science-fiction classic; it's also a warning about what happens when faith goes haywire, and of what happens when the balance of power tips in the worst direction possible.

#frank herbert #dune #shogun #dances with wolves #avatar #jake sully #yoshii toranaga #paul atreides #thoughts

[drag0nalias0]

Damn time really flies without you noticing. Its already 2024. A year ago to this day (the 7th january) Buddy Daddies started aring. It was great but i havent thought of it much like most of tje other stuff i watch/read. However i was scrolling though yt shorts and one of the videos was just a genshin impact video of something (i havent played it before but it was the acaramouch fight by the looks of the robot) but the song playing in the background was oddly familiar, so i clicked on the sound and looked at some of the thumbnails for the other videos before realising that it was the Buddy Daddies opening... its such a good opening and i checked the ed video and the musics great as well. I forgot how great the last image on the ed is with them all sitting on the sofa together. Ive gotta rewatch it but the dubbed version at somepoint. That one yakuza babysitting anime as well thinking of it. Anyway i found out that the first episode of Buddy Daddies was january 7th 2023 and i thought it was amazing how i remember it again on january 7th 2024. The yakuza one was july 7 2022 (not actually that many days before my birthday thinking about it) and ive yet to finish it so i really should at some point.

Anyway time really does fly...

#Ive got so many series to watch and read. #I was watching kuma kuma kuma bear season 2. Or well just got to season 2 but got distracted before i could watch so i ended up on yt #Ive still gotta finsih the last part of blue exorcist season 2 (i hope i was on season 2) before i can watch season 3 #Proably some other series as well such as the one where its a group of adventures who all got kicked out of their parties so they team up #Oh yeah ive got a few more episodes of that vampire yuri one. I think its vexations of a vampire princess. I think i was around episode 11 #And ive got to watch the rest of princess mononoke. #And natsumes book of friends #Some of these i started over a year ago. I know blue exorcist. Natsumes book of friends and princess monoke i watched over a year ago #What other series havent i finished watching... #Oh yeah the one where the old guy gets reincarnetdd as a girl. The yt crunchyroll video titled baby defeates a dragon is from that series #Hmm. Nurturing the hero to avoid death has a new chapater i think. I read that so many years ago and its still not finished being translate #Theyres probably some im forgwtting #Oh yeah the ancient magus bride as a new season. Ive got to remind myself on season 1 bc i watched it a while ago #(Fun fact: my name is Elias/Alias (chosing is hard but im not out to many people. Litterly 1 i talk to and his parents call me that.) #Which is the same name as one of the mc. The one who buys the mc and has the skull head) #I think that all i can think of #Oh wait i think there might be more reincanted as a slime content #And i dont think i ever finsihed the war one. Saga of tarnya was it called (but i might never watch the end. Or i might have finished it #And forgot i finished it) #And the handman saito one. I watch a few episodes and kinda lost interest #Is that all i can think of rn...maybe #Oh yeah the all roues lead to doom villaimess anime jas a movie come out so ive gotta check for that sxf as well #Oh yeah ive got a few episodes of sxf to finished as well. Gotta check the manga as well #Speaking of manga ive still gotta read hanako kun. Ive read chapter 100 onwards i think (it was the aquariums one) and im caught up to wher #It is currently but i still need to read the 100 chpatets beforehand #And the im in love with the villainess manga. I should read the novel for it somepoint as well #Ok imma end the tag list now

[heich0e]

yuuji calls sukuna a lot.

it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.

sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.

sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.

"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.

"—'n now i can't finder!"

"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.

"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"

"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.

yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.

"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."

it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.

but tonight's different.

yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.

"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.

the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.

he doesn't see you.

"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.

"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."

yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.

"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.

"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."

sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."

"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.

sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.

"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"

the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.

"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.

as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.

then he sees you.

just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.

sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.

it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.

instead, they meet his.

"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.

sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.

the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.

"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.

"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.

you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.

"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"

sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.

the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.

"we're very close."

#sukuna x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #big brother!sukuna

[tojisbbygworl]

He’s Not Actually That Cool - Hobie Brown x Black!Reader

Based off of this post

Part 2 bonus bonus ii

Masterlist

Imagine Hobie, the undeniably coolest person in the Spider Society, is a virgin nerd with a big dick

Tags: Hobie is a pathetic virgin loser, 18+, a lil smut, Oral (m receiving)

"How are you even cooler under your mask?"

"I was this cool the whole time."

A scoff behind the both of them. It's you shaking your head in your mask.

Hobie smirks at you. "Something funny there, love?" You don't say anything, just pretending you don't hear him and looking away innocently.

Hobie was the reason you were a part of the Spider Society. He and Miguel had captured the anomaly in your own universe with your help, of course. You knew Hobie had immediately took a liking to you what with the way he stared at you through his mask when he first laid eyes on you, frozen in place, color palette pink.

You liked him the moment he ripped his mask off when it was all said and done. He looked real good with his wicks, his sharp facial structure, wide-set nose and even larger lips. You actually believed him when he said he was briefly a runway model, emphasis on the briefly.

He invited you to join them and pulled you into the portal before Miguel could even say anything. You two have been inseparable ever since.

As you met more people, they all told you of their opinion of the man who seemed to be your best friend. Everyone says the same thing, that he's effortlessly cool and it makes him a little obnoxious. It always made you tilt your head.

You've seen the anime action figures in his room ranging anywhere from Naruto to Tokyo Ghoul.

"Oi, don't touch my things. You're the only person I trust to let in here, don't ruin it."

He's talked your ear off about the intricate lore of FNAF (he HATES MatPat btw)

You've groaned at how many times you've heard the name 'Afton' leave his mouth.

"So the place shut down again after the victim lost their entire frontal lobe"

"And that's the bite of '83, right?"

"No, that's the bite of '87. Thought I told you about '83?"

He probably did but he talked about it so damn much that you forgot. "It's cool, I'll tell you. So the bite of '83..."

This man is a fucking nerd but the BIGGEST misconception everyone has is that he's probably great at sex.

He has a reputation of "running through" everyone who wants him at the society...and yet no one has actually done anything with him. Everyone whispers about it, but no one has ever come out and admitted to having sex with him.

He's without a doubt your closest friend, so you asked him about it while you were chilling at his, watching him strum his guitar.

"So I heard you been running through the Spider Society like a tomb raider."

He cackled, "Yeah, that's what they all believe, innit?"

"It's not true?"

He shook his head. "I haven't got bottle, luv. Don't know what the bloody hell I'm doing."

"Oh really?"

He stopped strumming to look up at you, his smirk falling upon seeing your sultry and mischievous face. He grew a bit nervous, but was more excited if anything.

"What's that look about?"

"Would you like someone to teach you?"

He dropped his pick from how badly he was shaking. Hobie gulped and slowly nodded his head. You walked over to him and slowly lifted his guitar off his body, then pushing him back into the couch and sitting on top of him.

That's how this current make-out session started with you doing most of the work, taking off yours and his clothes feverously.

Hobie just sat back and let you do whatever you wanted. He especially loved watching you strip down to your underwear, blood shooting to his dick as soon as he watched your breasts bounce out of your shirt. He watched you pull your panties off of you leaving you completely naked and him only in his boxers.

He shifted in the couch to relieve some tension. You giggled at his starstruck face.

"You good?" You asked him. He nodded. "Do you need me to pull it out for you?" He nodded again.

You laughed, but was quickly shut up by his long, curved shaft slapping back onto his stomach. His underwear did him no justice, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He shyly looked away and bit his lip, not wanting to admit that he liked the way you gazed at it. It fueled his ego, but he didn't know how to tell you without stuttering.

He was actually shaking pretty bad, and it worried you. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...I just..." he gulped and looked back down, his dick jumping upon looking into your eyes. Just like his, yours were a deep brown. Your eyes were furrowed in concern, and your full lips were parted. His breathing got deeper.

"You really want to have sex? With me?"

You deadpanned him, then leaned your head down to his base. Hobie gasped when you stuck your tongue out and licked all the way to his tips. Your played with it for a couple seconds, leaving him a shuddering mess. His precum leaked from it and you licked it all up reveling in the salty taste.

"O-oh..." he moaned when you grasped it gently and began to pump. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, so glad that he didn't have to imagine it was your hand beating his dick. He humped into it a little, and he looked so sexy crunching his abs that you couldn't help but to enclose your mouth over him.

"Oh, fuck," he exclaimed. He threw his head back up and gazed upon your form. You were giving him the sloppiest top he had ever seen, (he only watched BJ and missionary porn and you were much better than those girls)

God, he couldn't wait to get you under him and hump into you like's he's thought about for so long. He's used his hand, his pillow, he even looked up how to make his own flesh light because he would never be able to hide a real one from you. It was gross but fuck, how else was he supposed to get his rocks off? If he didn't do any of those things, he would have no control around you.

"Fuck, babe. Please keep going~" Hobie was drooling - actually drooling - out the side of his mouth. He panted and clenched his hands. You had to reach out and move them to your hair.

The poor thing panicked, he had no idea what you wanted him to do. He gently pet your small afro, more concerned that he was close to cumming down your throat.

You stopped and popped him out of your mouth, laughing a little at how cute he was.

You didn't notice how stressed he looked, him sitting up a little more in the chair. "Ngh, wait, no-" he whispered.

His dick bounces with each spray of his cum with him letting out a string of moans and curses as it lands on his stomach and chest. "Ffff...uh...uck..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, watching his fucked-out face. His head bounces with each deep breath he took.

"Why...did you...stop?" he asked in between pants.

"Why did you pat my head?" you asked, standing up, begrudgingly putting your clothes back on despite the ache between your legs.

"What was I supposed to do?" Hobie stares at your ass lustfully, feeling the blood rush back into his dick from how it moved.

"You were supposed to grab my hair and choke me with your dick, baby."

He gulps not being able to take his eyes off of you. "Oh."

You turned after putting your panties back on and froze. His dick was standing straight up again, the head glistening with thick white liquid. He stared at you embarrassingly, hoping that you would just come back over and kiss it.

"You could have said something before I started putting my shit back on."

"Sorry," he said, not being able to contain his excitement when you walked back over to him. His smile went away when you instead hovered yourself over his lap. His cum was still on his stomach and his dick. "W-Wait-"

"Yeah?" You whispered sensually, grabbing him again and pulling your panties to the side to line him up with you.

"I'm still-, I still have-, Is this okay?"

"I'm on the pill."

He starts getting nervous again, but he doesn't know why.

"You scared?" She asks.

He looks at her and rests his hand on her hip. "I don't want to hurt you. Or make you uncomfortable."

You giggled again. "I promise you I'll be fine."

"But, I still got my cum on me, babe."

"I know." You leans over to his ear and lick it. He shivers. "Isn't that so nasty?"

Hobie moaned as you begin to sink yourself onto him. You moan too, Hobie splitting you like you never imagined.

"You really want to shag a virgin?" He finally asked her, his voice wavering.

She rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Virginity is a social construct. Don't be ashamed. Now shut the fuck up."

Definitely making a part 2 and a lil bonus and another bonus (ii)

Taglist is closed!

Masterlist

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk smut #hobie brown x black!reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #spider punk x black reader #spider punk x reader smut #black reader

[euaphora]

GIVE THIS PUSSY TO YOU 9 TO FIVE, 5 TO NINE! | part two.

colleague!kento who hates having to wake up every morning to deal with irritating people from his work, everything seemed to piss him off or made him upset. nobody would invite him out for drinks except you.

colleague!kento who was slightly surprised when you came up to him before the evening ended, he was pretty nervous to talk to you since you always seemed to avoid him, or so he thought.

colleague!kento who watched your glossed lips touch, of course he wasn’t paying attention, he had only been thinking about many different ways you could be using your plumped lips for…“so should I take that as a yes?” you ask, awkwardly waiting for him to respond. “huh? yeah sure, whatever…sounds good.”

colleague!kento who watches you jump up and down to his response, seeing you skip away. He shrugs it off and proceeded to type away on his computer. couple hours later, he feels his phone vibrate. picking up the phone, he hears a female voice on the other line who seems to be you.

colleague!kento who rushes over to the bar you were at, he completely forgot you asked him for something but since he wasn’t paying attention, he didn’t know you had asked him if he wanted to go drinking with his other colleagues.

colleague!kento who enters the bar and immediately spots you, you had been munching on bowls of miso soup and washed it down with a couple of drinks while everyone else danced to the music or rambled about how hard work has been lately.

colleague!kento who laughs at the small mess you made and walks over to you, pulling out the chair that’s sitting next to you from the table. you turn you head to the left and look up to spot him already looking at you.

colleague!kento who politely denies your offer when you ask, “oh hey, do you want some?” you seemed a little tipsy, but not to the point where your face would fall straight into the hot bowl filled with veggies.

colleague!kento who holds onto your body, pushing you back so you wouldn’t get too close to him but just enough we’re you could stand on your own.

colleague!kento who immediately got impatient with the way everyone started acting—looking over at your direction and realizing you were already staring— he laughs it off but stops when he sees you pulling closer to him. You give him a big smile and look down towards his soft, plump pink lips.

colleague!kento who starts to get nervous, he never felt this type of feeling—besides when he had work being due the same day and had to turn it in already— but for some reason he couldn’t stop himself when he pushed you away. He didn’t want to have any intimate actions with you when you were not sober.

colleague!kento who reassured you after you asked him, “is it because my breath smells like soup?” while pouting you lips towards him, he laughs it off and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t want for you to regret anything that happens tonight tomorrow morning, bunny.”

colleague!kento who doesn’t realize the face you make after his comment, or the way your plush thighs clenched at the pet name. you loved the way he was so responsible and respectful towards you, only making you a little more wet in between your legs.

#euaphora #jujustu kaisen #kento smut #nanami kento #kento x y/n #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk nanami #toji smut #jjk smut #geto smut #jjk megumi #megumi smut #gojo saturo smut #gojo smut #getou suguru smut #toji fushiguro smut #fushiguro toji smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu gojo #megumi fushiguro smut #kento x you

[gloxk]

Think she grippin’ on my dick but that’s my gun baby~

(Eren Y.)

A/n: Lil sum sum— srry fa neglecting yall. My schedule is so fuckkkkkeedd. But, I got sum more ‘plug’ eren comin up for my luvz. Anyway I hope yall enjoy this my luvz🫶🏽!

Synopsis: First link w Eren Yeager after not seeing him in a long time. ♥︎

Warning (s): Gun kink , dirty talk, Eren talking you through it, Mentions of drugs, riding an inanimate object, f/m, Uhm like reader calls him sir? Pet names, Needy s*x, Smut, ovi. girl yk the deal 17+ around here!

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You kicked your feet while biting your bottom lip, “Yeah, I know you miss me, baby.” You cheesed at his comments. Eren knew exactly what to say, his words were so sweet and slick. “Of course I miss you ren. When you gon come see me?” You heard his music blaring through his speakers. This boy really had you thinking about him every second of the day and night. “Whatchu mean? I’m outside right now ma.” You nearly took flight running down to the front door. It felt like time was nothing more than a mere interference with your speed. You swung your door open , your smile instantly dropped looking at your empty driveway “Fucking asshole, you lied.” He cackled as if you said something funny. “Nah I’m here.” He flicked his head lights grabbing your attention, you forgot his car was completely black. You didn’t understand why he would make his Hellcat so dark. Didn’t he want people to see it?

You smiled seeing him get out of his car, he looked so fucking fine in his Nike tech. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. Knees nearly buckled as Eren approached the door. You gulped back your salvia, it felt like swallowing a golf ball. “Heyyy baby.” His lips met your cheek, it’s been so long since you saw Eren. His voice held a sweet tang and a long draw to it. His fragrance was a mix of Dior Sauvage and Backwoods. His eyes spoke for themselves; red and low. “Eren—are you high?” you pulled his face closer to yours. Examining his eyes—yeah, he was fucking hammered. “When am I not?” He flashed his pearly whites, you always wonder how he got his teeth so nice and white. If perfection was a human it had to be him, there was no visible flaw within that man. “You gonna smoke your brain away if you keep it up.” You closed the door and walked with him up to your bedroom. Eren looked at you with a soft expression, his eyes locked on to yours. “Aww, you care about me, baby? Fine, I guess I have no choice but to do as you wish.”He jokingly replied. Eren didn’t have many people who cared for him, so it was nice to know you were one of the very few.

Eren found himself in your bed once again, he nuzzled into your neck while a basic Netflix movie played. He wasn’t particularly interested in the movie, and you were aware of this. But he acted like he was excited to watch it. Your hands ran over his thigh grazing over his dick. Fingertips wrapping around it. “Damn Ren, you must be very happy to see me huh?” you giggle sinking into your bed lining. Eren's dark jade eyes met yours, the lower part of his face was covered by his hand. Unbeknownst to you, he had a new hand tattoo; a skeleton face—damn he looked fine. “That ain’t my dick, that’s my gun baby.” He laid on his back, his shirt slightly lifting revealing the weapon. You couldn’t resist wrapping your fingers around the handle of his gun; it was calling your name. You held it in your hand admiring the weapon, it alone held the power to remove a soul from this world.

“You like it?” he took the gun away from your grasp. He parted your thighs placing the cold metal against your cunt. “Yes sir.” You bit your lip at the sheer cold touching you. The hairs on your neck stood up, it was so dangerous, it turned you on. He slid your panties over letting the blistering cold metal meet your pussy. The gun started at a gentle pace, moving slowly against your clit. Erens lips occupied your neck; kissing and sucking it. His tongue lightly brushed over your collarbone, you felt his tongue piercing glide against your skin. You rutted hard against his gun trying to relieve the built-up pressure in your abdomen. You didn’t want his gun, you wanted him. You wanted him to fuck you silly until you could no longer comprehend your surroundings. “Fuucck, I need more ren, I need you.” The gun hastily left your thighs. “I need you too ma.” His mouth met his glock licking your slick off of it. Eren's lips pressed firmly together creating a ‘mmm’ sound. He got on top of you pressing his chest against yours. You felt his bulge through his sweatpants, his dick was begging to be left free. He pulled his sweat pants down, just below his crotch panel. Your fingertips slipped under his elastic waistband; tugging his boxers downwards. His dick pounced out, an angry red color washed over his tip. “Fuck, it’s been too long.” He stroked his dick letting the bead of pre cum coat his tip. Eren slid inside inch by inch, he grunted feeling your heat. “Damn baby, I ain’t fuck you good in a minute huh? You miss this dick?” You nodded quickly, yes—you missed everything about him. His hand wrapped around your mouth looking at his tattoo covering your face. It turned him on seeing it on you— whether his hand was around your throat, mouth, or ass. It always looked so perfect on you.

Eren tugged your shirt up watching your tits bounce as he pounded into you. You tried to push him away from overstimulating your cunt “Nah, This what you wanted right? Take this dick.” He grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulder, he fucked you faster making you scream out. You could have sworn you put holes in the sheets because you were gripping them so tightly. You threw your head back clenching around Erens cock. Your body jolted at your release, finally letting go of that pressure you once had. “Ahh- fuck-“ you moaned while subtly grinding against his abdomen. His pace faltered, but not ending, Eren didn’t stop fucking you until he came all over your stomach. By then you were already on your third orgasm. He positioned himself beside you kissing your neck while tracing circles on your arm. “I know you love that shit.” He sighed, he was a fool for you as you were for him. He loved looking at your fucked out expression knowing he was the reason you looked like that.

“Mhm, I do, I really fucking do.” He grabbed his gun again setting it down on your chest, “That’s my favorite gun now, ima get your name carved in it.” That gun will forever be by his side from now on.

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4 my whores.

#eyena writes♡ #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren smut #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black reader #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren yeager

[angelltheninth]

Honkai Star Rail Men + Fake Marriage

Paring: Blade, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Sampo, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, confession, feelings realization, mission cover, jealousy, possessiveness, kissing, PDA, grinding, keeping quiet, pining, fake marriage

A/N: I'm gonna keep writing my favorite tropes until I run out of them.

Blade won't ever admit to really loving you, not even when he starts too. He will think of you as his, he will let everyone know of your marriage, but he will never say that he loves you. A fake marriage is good enough for him, he got someone by his side, real or fake it doesn't really matter, as long as you're the one who comes home to him every night and falls into his kiss, his arms and his bed.

Caelus catches feelings very early on in your marriage and tries to keep them a secret. He's pretty good at it at first, only doing the things expected but little by little he starts to kiss you when you're alone, to hold your hand as you sit on the couch, to let himself doze off after missions and dream about you. Its very hard to resist falling in love with. But should you? This was supposed to be temporary, when did this become so real, when did your kisses, your looks, your hugs turn into this wonderful exchange of feelings?

Dan Heng feels like a fake marriage is perfect to maintain his peaceful, or as peaceful as can be, life. You're friends so naturally he would ask you, and people have been saying you look like a couple anyway so hand holding and kissing in public wasn't that big of a leap. For the people around you. For you... it couldn't be worse. Pining over him was one thing, you could do that until you died, but having to pretend to be his wife was a whole other thing that you weren't ready for until that first morning where he bashfully greeted you with a kiss because that's what a good husband needs to do. Real or fake he will be the best husband you could ever have.

Gepard married you so he wouldn't need to marry someone he dislikes just to keep up appearances. You were a good choice, a childhood friend, a pretty woman, and a longtime mutual crush. Of course you were both clueless about that last part. It took a few months of awkwardness for you to settle into these new roles, for you to get used to being introduced as his wife. He seemed to take so much pride in that, always lighting up when he talked about you. It wasn't a lie, not a single word, which he admitted to only when you confronted him about his jealousy of other nobles acting too flirty towards you. The kiss that followed was unlike the chase ones you shared until now, full of promise, a real one this time, to be yours.

Jing Yuan thought it was a good way to make sure you don't get threatened by his many enemies. No one would lay a finger on his wife, no matter how crazy they were, they knew his wrath. He was very flirty towards you the whole time, calling you his wife every chance he got, enjoying how you'd blush when he'd kiss you in public and practically yell that you're his wife. You weren't though and that truth hurt. He could see it too. His second proposal came as a complete shock one heated night, when he couldn't hold back his lust any longer. You laughed, thinking he forgot about your arrangement. He didn't, he just wants you to be his in every way.

Luocha agrees because it would be an easy way to explain why you're traveling together and why you only need one room at every inn you go to. Its much less of a haste, a lot more of a heartache when you sleep in the same bed every night, sharing secrets and even fears and waking up entangled, having to remind yourselves that this is still fake. It was so easy until the kiss, until you climbed on top of him and moaned his name while you ground your hips against his. From then on it all became all too real.

Sampo marries you for a mission. That was really it, he needed a partner and it just so happened to be you. It was easy enough to make people think it was true, you knew each other for a while, you'd been partners before, this was... just another role to play. Right? So why did he hate it when you got flirty? It was for intel, for the mission. Yet he saw it fit to drag you away and kiss you breathless, scolding you for almost ruining their cover. What kind of a wife would flirt with others? For this to work you need to be only his. In that case he better make sure people know it, you taunt him, biting his neck, telling him to bite back if he dares. Oh he does, not just your neck either.

Welt doesn't look too much into the fake marriage. If anything its a good way to get his friends and teammates off his back for being old and alone. Now he can say he's happily married to the woman of his dreams. Well as happily as one can be when you're quietly really in love but can't say it without risking ruining what you have. Luckily for you he often gets home really late and tired, when his shields are low and his true feelings come out into the open, when he snuggles into your embrace and tells you how lucky of a guy he is that you said yes to someone like him, how he will make this real some day, just give him a little time.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #blade x reader #caelus x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #luocha x reader #sampo x reader #welt x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr jing yuan #blade x you #caelus x you #dan heng x you #gepard x you #jing yuan x you #luocha x you #sampo x you #welt x you #hsr headcanon #hsr imagine #hsr fluff #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanon #hsr x female reader #honkai star rail x female reader #honkai star rail fluff #hsr blade x reader

[aperrywilliams]

If Anything, I Find it Educative (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Spencer is not happy attending the annual FBI Gala this year. Having to socialize with a woman who only wants to seduce him makes it worse. But one not-so-fortunate incident could improve his night somehow.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Awkward Spencer. Morgan is stubborn about Spencer getting 'game.' Spencer spills facts about seafood (oysters), human biting, and cheating. Mention to Spencer's dick (only a phrase). Someone choking on food is described. A toxic relationship and job insecurities are described too. If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Okay, people. This is kind of an experiment: I want to know how you think the relationship between Spencer and Reader might evolve (if it evolves at all). Good friends? Romantic relationship rom-com style? An angsty romantic relationship? Friends to lovers? Just lovers? What important things do you imagine could happen to them? (canon or not). What could be the Reader's whole back story?

This is just a one-shot, but I am considering continuing it based on your thoughts and suggestions.

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Spencer's POV

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There are few things I hate more than being surrounded by many people at an event. Standing in the middle of a crowded party dressed in formal attire is one of them. 

It is an uncomfortable occasion highlighted by uncomfortable clothes.

And this time, it's Hotch's fault.

Tonight, I should have been at home, wrapped in a cozy blanket and enjoying my new edition of War and Peace. But the annual FBI gala and Hotch's adamant request blew my plans.

"Strauss wants to see the whole team at the venue this year. And we are in a very thin line with her to ignore her wishes."

No one seemed conflicted with the idea of attending this fancy party. Even some of my teammates looked excited about it. While JJ and Garcia chatted animatedly for days about what dress they would choose, Morgan saw it as a chance to get to know the new female agents working at Counterterrorism. Rossi only wanted to know how good the scotch would be this year, and Prentiss took it as an excuse to have free drinks. For his part, Hotch seemed as calm as any day at work.

But me? I wasn't excited at all.

Reluctantly, I purchased a tuxedo for the gala. At first, I thought about renting one since I would hardly use it again. But my germophobic self made me think again, and I decided the expense would at least make me feel less uncomfortable.

Keyword: a little less uncomfortable.

Now, I'm standing at the entrance, scanning the venue, searching for a familiar face. The place is packed with agents from all divisions and their plus ones, so it's hard to find anything at all.

But a familiar voice pulls me from my struggle.

"Boy genius! Over here!"

Penelope is calling my name from a table in the corner. As my gaze lands on her, I can see Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Hotch there too.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips, and quickly, I stroll where my teammates are.

"Spence! You made it!" JJ greets me as I pull a chair next to Morgan to sit.

"We thought you weren't coming," Emily added before sipping her drink.

"I understood it was a requirement," I quipped, looking at Hotch. The aforementioned man nodded in agreement.

"It was, indeed. Have I to remind you Strauss is still mad about the whole ordeal with you stepping into a building with no vest and no gun?"

Hotch is right. Strauss made his life hell for a whole week until he notified my suspension.

I wince, remembering the incident in question.

Self-note: don't leave behind the vest and the gun again.

"You look very handsome, boy wonder," Garcia chimes, waving her hand and pointing at me.

I can't help but blush at the compliment. It's not she hasn't done it before, and I know she means well, but-

"Maybe pretty boy gets some game tonight," Morgan claps his hand on my shoulder, grinning.

That's why I don't like that kind of attention. At every chance, someone pips up and tries to play wingman or wingwoman for me. And although I appreciate their efforts, I like to move at my own pace. Even if some say my pace, it's more like a turtle's speed.

Giving him a tight-lip smile, I reach for a glass of water. I don't know how I'll survive this night.

Surprisingly, it is okay for now. I fall into conversation with Garcia and JJ, although it is more like me listening and them talking. Occasionally, I add some to the topic, and they seem receptive.

But Derek looks impatient to stand and march to a group of women talking on the opposite side of the venue, next to the bar. I don't look much into it until I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"You're oddly quiet tonight, pretty boy. What's up?" My sight darts from JJ and Penelope to Derek.

"Nothing?" I offer. My eyebrows creace. Derek snickers.

"I know what you need! Come on, let's enjoy the party and come with me to chat with those beautiful agents at the bar over there," he proposes. I shake my head.

"No. I'm good. You can go if you want. I don't think you need my help."

Derek rolls his eyes.

"Don't get dismissive with me. It'll help you to lose a little. I promise," he insists. And I know I'm losing my battle with him tonight.

"As if I had something interesting to say to them," I mumble, loud enough for Derek to hear.

"Don't say that. Surely, some would like to hear about, I don't know, oysters? And how they became a symbol of glamor or whatever. Because I'm sure you know that, right?" Derek points, grabbing an oyster from the tray a waiter offers him.

"Actually, oysters were not considered a status symbol until the 11th century, when the Crusades trunked access to seafood in Europe. Some researchers believe that-"

I'm about to explain the whole thing when Morgan cuts me off.

"See? Now, don't waste that knowledge with me, and let's share it with those gorgeous, shall we?"

I'm screwed.

I reluctantly stand to follow Derek. I know he's the best intention even if I won't tell him that. Maybe he's right, and I need to step out of my comfort zone occasionally.

As smoothly as only Morgan can be, he interrupts the conversation between three women by the bar. You would think they would return annoyed looks from the sudden interruption, but they did not. It is everything but that.

"Excuse me, beautiful ladies. Hope you don't mind some company. My friend and I thought it would be an honor to share part of your precious time tonight."

How the fuck can he do that?!

The result shocked me almost more than it impressed me. The three turn to us with flirting smiles flashing to Derek. And me?

That's new. And, of course, I have to blush furiously at that.

"Hey, handsome. Sweet talk, uh?" One of the girls teases Derek while the others giggle.

"I know I can do better, but you make me nervous, sweetheart," Morgan banters as smoothly as the beginning.

And that's it. We have their full attention now. Scratch that; Derek has their full attention now.

He asks for their names, and that's how I know the woman who spoke first is Vivian, and her friends are Julie and Ashley. The three of them work in the Counterterrorism Division.

"And who is your good-looking friend?" Ashley asks, skimming at me.

Why is she looking at me from head to toe?

Derek glances at me, and I understand it's time for me to say something.

"I'm Spencer," I wave.

Short and precise.

"Hi, Spencer. You are cute," Ashley points, and suddenly, my mouth goes dry.

As Emily once said, my IQ slashes to 60 when I'm in front of a beautiful woman. And Ashley is a beautiful woman. Her long, stylish blond hair, blue eyes, tan skin with perfect makeup, gorgeous smile, and a dress that accentuates her body in the right places. It would be stupid to say she is not attractive.

"Why don't we go to the dance floor while Ashley and Spencer get to know each other better, uh?" Derek offers to Julie and Vivian, winking at me.

Oh, Lord. Help me.

I don't think Derek or Ashley would appreciate it if I refused to stay here and run to the nearest exit. So I give Ashley a tight smile and prepare myself for whatever comes now.

"Well...?" she prompts, and I don't know what the fuck she expects me to say.

"Yeah. Nice party," I offer, hoping my attempt to small talk works.

Ashley's smile suggests it does.

"It is. Are you having fun?"

No.

"Yes! A lot! Are you?"

"Yeah. But I think it turns out better now," she says, subtly closing some distance between us with a playful look directed at me.

Is she flirting with me?

I clear my throat to appease some of my nerves. I need to cool off. If Derek can do this, I should try.

A waitress approaches us and offers some drinks. Ashley picks a glass of wine, and I prefer a flute of champagne. I don't usually drink alcohol, but I need it now.

"Slow down, boy. People would think I make you nervous," Ashley points seductively when she notices how I quickly down the liquid.

My eyes widen when she rests a hand on my chest and leans to whisper in my ear.

"I don't bite. Unless you want me to."

Okay. That sounds very straightforward.

I should feel flattered. An attractive woman is more than insinuating me right now; I barely said anything. But it doesn't feel like that.

Derek surely would tell me, 'Take it and play it, pretty boy,' but I don't feel like it. If we could engage in a kind of conversation, I would feel more comfortable. Don't get me wrong. I know what a potential one-night stand means, but I'm not good at it. That's how I am. Sue me.

I want to turn her down gently, so I do what I know to do, and people usually hate me for it: spit information.

"Compared with other mammals, like dogs and bears, humans don't have the strongest bite. Scientists measure the pressure exerted by an animal's bite in pounds per square inch or psi. The human bite force is 162 psi. The bite force of some dogs can reach 250 psi, while some bears have a bite force of over 1,000 psi. It's interesting, actually-"

Ashley is now looking at me, confused. She retreats his hand from my chest and hums, faking interest in what I'm saying.

As I go on with my info dump, I notice how Ashley changes her empty glass of wine to a filled one when a server offers it.

Aside from 'interesting,' 'oh,' and 'uhm,' she doesn't add more to the conversation - or more likely, my rambling - and by now, you would think she's tired of me. But no. For God knows what reason, she is persistent. I give her that.

Typically, I can ramble on and on, which is not the exception. The waiters and waitresses keep coming with drinks and food, and even I pick some for myself.

When they offer us a tray with oysters, I can't help but recall what Morgan told me before.

As I see Ashley ushering one to her mouth, I deliver an exciting fact about it.

"Did you know that raw oysters are still alive? Indeed, some people argue oysters might feel pain, and others say that because they don't have a central nervous system, they don't feel pain like other seafood species might."

Not looking at her, I focus on my oyster, inspecting it before continuing.

"If it's that so, the question is when they die actually. This is likely to happen when they are shucked rather than when they are chewed or swallowed. Scientists think this because an oyster's heart is right next to the bottom adductor muscle, so separating it from the shell kills it."

I should have known the lack of response wasn't due to the interest in the topic, although speaking was impossible for her. Her face's blueness and her hand on her neck now tell me something is wrong.

Fuck. She is choking.

I don't know what to do. She is choking on an oyster, and I'm paralyzed. The people around us start to scream as they see her turning blue. That picks everyone's attention, and I want to dig a hole to get into right now. But first, I should do something to help her. Before I can reach for her, a pair of arms hugs Ashley from behind and applies the Heimlich Maneuver. After a few thrusts into the abdominal area, we see the oyster fly from her mouth to somewhere on the floor.

At the same time, Vivian, Julie, and Derek rush to us to find out what is going on.

Ashley starts coughing, and some of her natural color returns to her face. The arms around her torso loosen, and that's when I notice the woman who just saved her life from choking.

Everything happens so fast that I barely register the slap across my face—Ashley's courtesy.

A collective 'Uhhh' is heard around us.

Before I can say anything, Ashley starts a rant full of anger and frustration toward me.

"Are you fucking crazy? Why would you say something like that? It's disgusting!"

Ironically, I'm speechless now.

What is wrong with talking about oysters?

"You fucking weird!" Ashley continues with her rant. It's like she has been holding it since we were left alone.

The woman who helped Ashley now looks between me and her with her eyebrow creased.

"Hey. You should take it easy. You're just recovering from-" 

She can't finish the sentence since Ashley turned to lash out at her.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do! I almost died because of this pathetic nerd here who can't stop rambling about alive oysters! Just thinking about it makes me sick again!"

"Could it be a hint for not eating them anymore?" I muse, gaining a chuckle from the woman - let's call her the savior - and a deadly glare from Ashley. I recoil from saying anything else, and it is the wiser.

"I should have known better than to engage my time with you. Even if you actually pack a big dick, it doesn't worth it!" she whisper-yell at me, but loud enough for Derek, Vivian, Julie, and the mystery-savior woman to hear.

I'm utterly confused and embarrassed. What have to do my dick with all of this? 

Derek is now dispersing the crowd around us as Vivian and Julie try to soothe her friend's anger, rubbing her back and arm.

I bet they see Ashley's wrath boiling and the high probability of her launching towards me to punch me. Their efforts to subdue her seem to work because, after a loud huff, Ashley only grabs her coat from Vivian's hand and spits at me: "Thanks for ruining my night!"

The three pass by my side to one of the exits venue.

I don't even know how I should feel.

I feel upset because my escape plan didn't go as planned. I feel relieved because Ashley didn't die. Hurt? Yeah, that, too. I didn't deserve a slap on my face. She calling me a pathetic nerd? Sadly, I'm not surprised. And it only confirms my theory I'm not good at this kind of setting.

With the show over and people not focused on me anymore, Derek approaches. I know what he wants to say, but I don't want to hear it. I'm done for tonight.

"Don't say it," I cut him off.

"I wasn't gonna say anything," he tells me with a sympathetic look, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Sure you not," I grumble. "And what was about that comment about my… dick?" I whisper to him.

Derek's face tries to remain neutral, but I know him better.

"What did you do?" I demand to Morgan, and he sighs.

"I may or may not have suggested a rumor about your attributes."

I look at him in disbelief.

"Shut the fuck up! You did not!"

"Come on, pretty boy. It worked! You caught their attention, didn't you?"

I shake my head, trying not to snap at him in public. Morgan can see the distress I'm carrying right now and relents.

"I'm sorry, Reid. I thought it would be a good chance for you to show yourself around. You're a good kid; you deserve to have a good time."

It's useless to engage in this argument again. I understand his good intentions, but like this? No, thanks.

"I better get going," I mumble, walking backward. I'm done for the night.

"Reid..." Morgan starts, but the shake of my head cuts him off. He sighs as I turn to head to one of the exits.

Walking through one of the venue's doors, I find myself on a lateral terrace. I stop for a moment to look around. 

If there were different circumstances, I would be enjoying this view. To the front, you can see a beautiful and thick green shrubbery. Several fountains with little waterfalls and statues recreate a neoclassical garden. It is no coincidence since the property where the venue is located is a typical Jefferson's Neo-Palladian construction with high ceilings and large columns.

My architectural appreciation stops when my eyes land on a woman with her back leaning against one of the columns, her left hand resting on the concrete railing, and her right hand with a glass of wine. Her face is turned to the side, and she is observing the beautiful garden in front of her.

I know her. I've seen her before.

Although it is dark outside, the light from the venue's long windows illuminates the terrace enough.

My brain comes up with the answer in a fraction of a second.

Is the woman who saved Ashley from choking. 

After what she did, nobody even thanked her. The worst part is knowing Ashley behaved that poorly with her. It's not fair. And it's my fault.

With that in mind, I approach her.

She seems too concentrated to register I'm just a foot of distance from her. I clear my throat to call her attention.

She turns her head with a confused look at first. But she offered me a kind smile when she realized who I was.

It's my first chance to look at her; with everything happening so fast, I barely noticed her trying to talk back to Ashley moments ago. 

And now that I'm in front of her, I feel weirdly struck.

Besides her beautiful smile, her eyes hold a piercing gaze, but not the kind that frightens you. It's more like she actually sees you and gives you her undivided attention. With light makeup, her face lets you see some of her freckles. With her hair tied to one side, you can see her neck adorned with a simple gold chain with a compass-shaped pendant.

My not-so-subtle scrutiny is interrupted by her voice.

"Can I help you?" She asks, and my cheeks turn pink. But I'm here for a reason, so I clear my throat before speaking.

"Sorry. I - uh. I'm sorry for bothering you, but I wanted to thank you. For what you did back there," I say, pointing to the inside. "And, well, I want to apologize too. Ashley wasn't very kind to you, considering you mostly saved her life."

She tilts her head slightly, a frown forming, while contemplating what to say.

"Well," she starts. "I'll take the thanks. But I can't take the apologies."

Now, it's my turn to frown.

"Oh, okay. Uh - Why not?"

Not that she should do it. It's her right to do it or not, but I'm curious.

"Because you didn't do anything wrong to me, so you don't have to," she shrugs, like it's obvious.

"I kind of did. I mean, Ashley behaved awful, and I didn't -"

Before I can continue, she shakes her head to stop me.

"No. Don't do that. Why on earth do you want to apologize for someone else's bad manners, considering she treated you like garbage?"

She doesn't say it as if she is upset at me, more likely as if she doesn't understand why I would do that. And yes, she has a good point. But someone has to do the right thing, and that's what I say next.

"It's just the right thing to do."

She takes her time, mulling over my words and whether she believes me or not.

"Okay. You're correct. It's the right to do. And it's a shame most people don't do it. But I still believe it is not your responsibility here."

Something is telling me her statement concerns more than Ashley being impolite. But it is not my place to point that.

"But some people do. And that must count as something, I guess. "

It's curious how her look changes from pensive to more light-hearted.

"Okay. You win this time..." she trails off, not knowing how to refer to me.

"Spencer," I supply. She hums.

"You win this time, Spencer. And being that said, I accept your apology too," she added, sipping the remaining wine from her glass.

I smile, nodding appreciatively. It's a little gesture, but I feel better after what happened.

Silence settles between us, and I take that as my cue to leave. I had already taken enough of her time.

"Uh, well. Thank you again..."

I trail off, realizing I don't know her name.

"(Y/N)," she says.

"Thank you again, (Y/N). Hope you enjoy the rest of your night."

With that said, I should get on foot to leave the venue, as I had planned to do ten minutes ago, but for some reason, my feet didn't want to move, and I kept standing there. (Y/N) look at me as if I'm going to say something else due to the lack of movement on my part.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and now I have the same question for myself.

"Yeah. Yeah. Totally okay. Sorry, I'm leaving now."

Turning in my heels, I'm about to walk away when I hear (Y/N) 's voice.

"I didn't know that, you know? And, for the record, I didn't think it was disgusting."

I stop in my tracks to look at her with a raised eyebrow. When I catch what she is referring to, my eyes cast to the floor, and my cheeks turn pink again.

"If anything, I found it educative," she adds. I try to decipher if there is some teasing in her words, but I find none. She's being oddly genuine. Oddly, because I'm not used to people saying that when referring to the things I tend to ramble about.

"Thank you," I sheepishly say, my hands finding home in my pant pockets. "People don't tell me that very often."

A puff leaves (Y/N) 's lips before she says, "Ungrateful fuckers." 

I chuckle at her choice of words.

Weird. It's the first time all night that I don't want to run away from here.

"Yeah. Something like that," I agree, and she smiles. Now I'm comfortable enough to make some conversation.

"Uh, are you from Quantico?"

"Yeah. A very adrenalinal position," she prompts, and I raise an eyebrow. "Finance Division."

I can't help but snort, and she laughs. "I told you. What about you?"

"Behavioral Unit Analysis," I reply. (Y/N)' s eyes wide in recognition.

"Wow. The one and only BAU."

"You know us?"

"Sure. I wouldn't forget a unit that has its own jet. I'm the one who enters the travel expenses from all Quantico," she explains. I hum, trying to figure out the amplitude of that sole task. "Like I told you, very exciting."

She is mocking herself regarding her job. But I find it impressive for a desk job. Not all people have the skills to run financials.

"Well, I agree it is not very adrenaline but very important. I mean, we have to travel around the country all the time. Our job depends on traveling."

(Y/N) has now an amused expression on her face.

"It's nice to know someone truly values what you do. Not even our boss does it," she points before letting a deep sigh escape from her lips. "Gosh, I'm being very judgmental right now. You're going to think I spend my life complaining about everything. I do sometimes, but I'm not always like this," she explains. I shake my head.

"I'm not judging you. Everyone has the right to say what things don't like or would change about their jobs."

"Well, thanks. Although I'm sure you guys have more reasons to be concerned. You risk your life on the field every time. That's huge."

She rests the empty glass on the concrete rail, adjusting her coat around her body. The air is chiller at this time of the night.

"You know? People say that a lot. And I agree. It's a dangerous job, but it's not better than anyone's for that reason, or whatever another reason for that matter.

Her eyes are analyzing me with curiosity. I'm not sure, but it's like she's having difficulty believing what I'm saying.

"Can I ask you something, Spencer?"

"Sure."

"Why are you here tonight?"

My eyes narrow at her question. Isn't the reason obvious?

"What do you mean? It's the FBI annual gala," I point out, knowing she already knows that too. She nods.

"Precisely," she starts. "And at the risk of being impertinent, I can say this environment makes you uncomfortable. When you were with that girl talking - scratch that, when you were talking, and she looked at you, trying to devour you with her eyes - you seemed like you didn't want to be there. Above all, knowing this kind of event is basically to show off to other bureau agents, I don't think is your notion of an ideal night."

If I wasn't impressed when we started talking - which I was - I am now. 

She assumes my awe as discomfort.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to overstep."

"No, no. You are okay. And let me tell you, your observation is completely accurate," I hasten to clarify.

"Yeah?" (Y/N) asks, and I nod earnestly.

"Yeah. Have you not considered applying for a position as a field agent?"

An amused laugh leaves her lips.

"No way! I would be a total disaster! And carrying a gun is not my idea of a dream job anymore," she points out, still laughing. 

I chuckle, but her answer makes me think. Before I can ask for clarification, she calls me out.

"Hey, you didn't answer my question."

I didn't, although the answer is simple.

"My boss made me."

(Y/N) scoff in disbelief.

"What? Did he put a gun against your chest?"

Well, thinking better about it, maybe the answer is not that simple.

"Not quite, but you can say I felt it that way."

I tell (Y/N) how my team always worries about my lack of social interaction, which isn't that accurate if you ask me. However, some of the pressure of doing things that people my age would generally do is finally getting me and pushing me out of my comfort zone.

She listens to me with undivided attention and seems to understand what I'm talking about.

"Peer pressure, uh? I can relate to that to some extent," she agrees.

"That's why are you here tonight, too?"

My question makes her let out a deep sigh as her eyes focus on the garden beside us for a second.

"Not really. Who knows, maybe I do enjoy being here?"

(Y/N) phrases it more like a question than a statement. And I can tell she doesn't believe it either.

"Enjoying being apart from the crowd, in a lateral terrace barely illuminated and exposed to the chilly night air? I can think of several other places to do the same thing without the trouble of a gala environment."

Her cheeks turn a shade of pink, which tells me I'm right.

"Not fair, you are a certified profiler," (Y/N) complains, faking annoyance.

"And you haven't answered my question either," I remind her. She rolls her eyes playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Well, let's say I came here to prove myself something. Spoiler alert: I failed. That's why I have been mostly spending the night here."

I hum, knowing she is vague in explaining, but I'm not in a place to pry.

"Look, I would tell you more about it, but I'm sure you have to return inside. Your teammates are surely wondering where you are."

I can't help but snort, and she raises an eyebrow at my reaction.

"I'm sorry, but your assumption is far from reality. Considering what happened inside, they think I ran home. What I was actually doing before spotting you here," I admit.

"Ha! So it's true I'm holding you back but for a different motive," she triumphantly concludes.

"I didn't say that!" I complain with a hint of exasperation, to which she breathly laughs.

"I know. I know. I'm messing with you. Honestly? There are two reasons why I'm avoiding this topic right now. First, I don't think you want to hear the mess my life is these days, and second, I would kill for a coffee and a sandwich-" she pauses, stifling a chuckle before continuing. "Considering oysters are out of the table."

"Oh, come on!" I groan, seeing how she falls into a fit of laughter, so contagious that I can't help but join her.

"Sorry, sorry. Not very kind of me, I know. But I couldn't help it," she apologizes, still giggling. I bit my lower lip in amusement.

"Alright. It's okay. It's frankly funny," I admit, my words leaving my mouth before I can think of them. "Well, I could tell you more of those moments in my life - many of them - if you let me join you with the coffee and sandwich. I know a good place that is open at this hour. And you can tell me what kind of thing you wanted to prove yourself tonight."

Spencer Reid. Is that you? 

I'm surprised by my sudden confidence, and it seems (Y/N) is, too. She hums, scrubbing her fingers under her chin while contemplating my offer.

"Okay, I'll take it. But don't tell me later that I didn't warn you about the mess of my life," she points her index finger at me.

"I won't. I promise."

-

Grabbing a cab is relatively easy since the FBI considered transportation outside the venue for people who won't be driving.

The fifteen-minute ride allows us to have a light conversation. That's how I know (Y/N) has been in the bureau for almost four years. Being an Accountant by profession and with a Master of Science in Finance from Georgetown, she was recruited for the FBI precisely considering her outstanding skills in the financial department.

She asks me about my trajectory in the FBI as well. I tell her about Gideon and the start of my life at the BAU.

Arriving at our destination, I insist on paying for the ride despite her resistance. I assured her that she could invite me to the coffee.

It must be a curious image for the patrons to see two fully gala-dressed people stepping inside a diner at eleven pm.

We sit on a bench facing each other.

A girl who can't hide her curious expression comes to take our order. As promised, (Y/N) asks for two coffees and two sandwiches.

"So, Agent Gideon recruited you for the FBI. Why did you accept? I would have thought you would be more comfortable in academics," (Y/N) asks, stirring a spoon of sugar in her coffee.

"I thought the same at the time. But Gideon saw something I didn't. He knew I wouldn't settle with learning and teaching for the rest of my life, and I needed it to be useful beyond that environment."

I explain how profiling has helped us to catch unsubs around the country and how worthy it is for me. I can't think of myself doing anything else. (Y/N) listen to me with raptor interest; it is nice to be heard that way.

"You know? I haven't heard someone speak passionately about their work in a long time. It's good you feel that way," she says with a hint of longing that doesn't go unnoticed by me.

"It is bold of me to assume you don't like what you do?"

Maybe I'm overstepping, but I'm curious. And (Y/N) doesn't seem bothered by my question. Shifting in her seat, she leans, resting her elbows on the table.

"Not bold at all, mister profiler," she teases. "But not always has been that way. I would say I started to feel uncomfortable not long ago. A couple of months, perhaps?"

I hum, thinking about what could have made her feel that way.

"It has to do with why you were at the gala tonight?"

She chuckles, nodding.

"Kind of. Remember I told you I wanted to prove myself something? Well, it has to do with what has been bothering me," she prefaces.

(Y/N) relates how things have gone well since she got into the FBI. She felt respected, wanting to do many things and learn everything she could. 

That's how she met her boyfriend.

"I wasn't looking for a romantic relationship, much less at work. I wanted to be professional, separating my private life from my job. But he was so attentive and supportive. He always told me he was happy I felt fulfilled with what I was doing. He was so perfect I thought I had found my soulmate."

I don't know exactly where she is going, but sure as hell, that prick wasn't her soulmate.

"What happened?"

"One day, I wasn't good enough for him anymore. After two years of relationship, he started with harsh comments and criticism about everything I did and didn't do."

A humorless chuckle escapes her lips.

"I should have noticed. By then, he was promoted from desk duty and junior trainee to field agent. He had always wanted it, and I felt so happy for him. But that changed everything."

(Y/N) tells me about how her boyfriend stopped listening to her, and instead, every topic of conversation turned to his job, implying - sometimes saying it explicitly - that it was more important than hers.

"It's not only the fact we stopped communicating; it was realizing how low he thought about me and my accomplishments. At first, I tried to understand. Of course, he was dazed by this new life, full of danger and adrenaline. I could understand it. But when he started comparing me to his female colleagues and the things they were doing, way more important than the ones I was doing, it made me insecure."

(Y/N) takes time to collect her thoughts, sipping the remaining coffee from the cup.

"The insecurities got the best of me. At some point, I just wanted to run away and leave it all behind. I knew it was irrational, but I believed him. I even thought about changing my career and training to be a field agent. Good thing we broke up before I could do that," she admits.

"What stopped you? I mean, like you're telling this, you were going to change for him," I ask. She cast her gaze, averting mine. Her cheeks turn pink.

"I don't like to admit it, but the reason we broke up wasn't because I realized how stupid the situation was. We broke up because he cheated on me. I discovered it two months ago, breaking the camel's back."

Fuck. That prick was not meant to be her soulmate. And I feel the urge to have one or two words with him right now.

"I'm sorry." It's the only thing I manage to say. (Y/N) shakes her head.

"Nah. If anything, I'm glad it happened. Even if it broke my heart."

"He was at the gala, right?" (Y/N) nods.

"With the coworker that he chose to cheat on me. His current girlfriend."

Everything makes perfect sense now. (Y/N) was trying to prove to herself that the wound had healed. And from what she said earlier, it didn't turn that way.

She bitterly chuckles.

"Yeah. It's pathetic, I know."

Spencer, do something.

"No! It's not. Unfortunately, cheating is not uncommon, particularly in men. In 2020, IFS released a report stating that 20% of men have admitted to cheating, and only 10% have. In 2021, the Health Testing Centers asked 441 people who admitted infidelity to their partners and asked how long it took for them to tell their partners about it. 47.7% of the respondents told their partner within a week that they'd cheated. 26.6% of those have waited for a month, and 25.7% took six months or longer to tell their partner about the infidelity. And 60% of them said the affair started in a work environment."

And then again, the rambling. But instead of giving me a blank look, (Y/N) seems to consider what I just said.

"Maybe I shouldn't feel so bad about it then. Anyway, it hasn't been easy to get out of this. I thought going to the gala and forcing myself to see them together would be enough to get a closure," she reflects.

"But it still hurts," I supply, making (Y/N) hum.

"Yeah. I'm not ready, and it sucks. Not for him, but for me. I hate feeling so out of place, so dissatisfied with everything," (Y/N) retorts, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.

Her eyes look sad, and I want to do something to fix it, although I know that nothing I can say would be enough. Maybe joking will at least get her off the topic.

"And there I was talking about oysters all night," I sigh, feigning disapproval. Genuine laughter escapes her lips.

I didn't know that making her laugh could fill my heart so much with satisfaction.

"That's life," she adds, now checking the time on her cell phone. "I think I'll get going," she announces, collecting her things and preparing to stand.

"Can I walk you home? It's very late already," I ask.

"Oh no, don't worry about me. My building is not far from here."

I know she doesn't want to cause trouble, but it makes me uneasy about what could happen to her walking alone at this hour.

Thank you, BAU.

"Please?" I insist. (Y/N) raises an eyebrow.

"Aren't you already fed up with me?" she asks curiously.

"Non yet," I grin.

Not having the energy to put up a fight, she accepts my offer, and after paying the bill, we leave the restaurant.

The night is colder now, and both of us walk in silence with our hands in our pockets.

I can't know what exactly she's thinking, but at least I can't stop thinking about tonight. For someone like me, it's hard to fall into spontaneity, but with (Y/N), it wasn't a problem. That amazes me, and I like it at the same time.

When she stops walking, I get out of my thoughts.

"Here," she says, looking at the building we are standing by. "Thank you for walking with me," (Y/N) states, smiling. It's the same warm smile she offered when I found her on the venue's terrace a couple of hours ago.

"Of course. It's the less I could do."

And I mean it. She saved my night in so many ways she doesn't even know.

"Well, I need to say it was a pleasure to share this shit of a night with you and turned it less shitty," she says, grinning and satisfied with her remark.

I laugh at her statement. I couldn't have said it better.

"Thank you. It's the best compliment I have had in a long time," I joke, making (Y/N) giggle.

"You are welcome."

I have the question on the tip of my tongue. I would love to see her again, but what if she doesn't think it's worth it? I opt for the vaguest thing that comes to mind.

"See you around?"

(Y/N) thinks about it for a moment. Am I being too obvious? Before falling into a spiral, she smiles at me again.

"Yeah, sure. Why not."

I can't help but feel the excitement pouring from me.

"Great! Well, I - I'll go now. Good night (Y/N)," I say goodbye, slowly walking backward.

"Good night, Spencer," she retorts before entering the building.

I watch her disappear behind the door, and I think that while neither of us got what we wanted, maybe we got what we needed.

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A/N 2: I'm excited to know your thoughts about this!

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid #amanda perry williams #aperrywilliams #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot

[quin-ns]

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

#quin-ns writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

[papercorgiworld]

Can you forgive what he forgot?

Mattheo, Theodore and Enzo

You two break up, but then he takes a bad hit in a fight and forgets you two broke up. When he wakes up he immediately asks for you.

I loved this request, but for some reason it was a struggle to write. I battled words and phrases, but I got it written down! I must apologize. I hoped to write this for all Slytherin boys, but it was quite a big project so in the end I decided to stick with Mattheo, Theodore and Lorenzo. I hope it’s good… happy readings my sweet readers!

I. The break up

“How dare you pick a fight with my friends? How many times have I told you to just stay away from them if you don’t like them.” Your boyfriend groans and rolls his eyes. In his book you were being irrational, again. “Maybe you should hang out with better people. Maybe friends that don’t want to break us up.” He says with a stern voice, while getting off of the couch and towering over you. “What?” You yell and run a frustrated hand over your face. “Break us up? In Merlin’s name, have you been drinking? Or are you really this delusional?” He grabs your arm and drags you to his room, so the rest of the common room doesn’t get to enjoy the little show. 

“I’m delusional? You’re the one believing everyone wants to be your friend and support your relationship and let’s all have hugs for breakfast and sing happy songs by a bonfire.” You lose it at his empty argument and grab a pillow throwing it at him. “I don’t know why I keep putting up with your shit!” You yell and you can feel tears welling up. He stares at you with a stern look. “Oh don’t worry about it anymore, because this ridiculous relationship is over!” You take a step back at his loud voice and there is a long silence as you both tremble in anger. Just before your boyfriend wants to speak up you swallow and bravely look up to him. “Fine.” His eyes widen as you turn around and open the door with a shaky hand. Say anything! Make her stay! Move! Don’t let her leave! Say something! His mind rages as he feels like all air has been ripped away, but no words come. The door closes behind you and you two are no longer together, just like that. Tears roll down your cheeks as you speed walk to your dorm and by the time you get there, your now ex-boyfriend still stands in the exact same spot: silent, frozen but in just as much pain as you are.

II. The fight

Mattheo

Walking through the hallway Cedric laughs loudly with his friends, before lowering his voice a little. “Did you hear (y/n) finally broke up with that moron.” Mattheo grits his teeth as he overhears the hufflepuff, why couldn’t people just mind their own business. “How long do you guys think I should wait before I, you know, can ask her out.” His friends chuckle, before responding. “A week.” “The girl needs time, you don’t want to come off too strong.” “Nah, she’s been done with him for a long time, she just didn’t dare break up with the psycho. Really, just ask her.” Cedric nods, taking in all the different opinions. “Yeah, she was probably terrified of him. I bet he treated her like crap. She deserves so much better.” Cedric’s words hurt Mattheo, because part of him feared that you really hated being with him.

Mattheo turns and heads for the opposite direction in an attempt to avoid the confrontation, but after two steps he grits his teeth and balls up his fists. Nope. You’re not asking her out. In one sudden move Mattheo turns around, eyes dead focused on the hufflepuff who was still chatting away with his friends. With one easy spell Mattheo pulls Cedric towards him. “You should be the one terrified of me.” Cedric can barely register Mattheo’s word before a fist hits him hard, making him stumble back and reach for his bleeding nose. Mattheo grabs Mattheo’s color, but before he can throw his second punch he feels himself fly across the hallway. 

Theodore

Walking through the hallway Cedric laughs loudly with his friends, before lowering his voice a little. “Did you hear (y/n) finally broke up with that moron.” Theodore's eyes go dark as they move to find Cedric in the hallway. “Oh, they broke up? Good for her. That prick was underneath her.” Cedric nods at his friend. “I’m thinking of asking her out.” At Cedric’s words Theodore’s eyes go from dark to dead. Normally he would’ve kept his cool longer, but Theo knew you had had a crush on Cedric until third year. “You should. She looked happy this morning.” “Totally, she’s not missing his toxic ass at all.” Theodore clenches his jaw. Sure he had his issues, he was aware of that, but he never manipulated you in any way. 

Before Theo’s fully aware of it he feels himself move towards the group of friends. With dead eyes and big steps he radiates anger. His large hand lands on one guy’s shoulder firmly pulling him back so Theo now stands in front of Cedric. “I’m thinking you should start minding your own business and keep your mouth shut about my relationship.” Any other day the hufflepuff would have chosen a peaceful way out but not today. “Your relationship? There is no relationship, you broke her heart.” In a split second, Theodore’s fist meets Cedric’s jaw, making the latter fall. As Cedric scrambles up Theo pushes away the ones trying to keep him at bay and throws another punch to which Cedric quickly reacts by pulling out his wand, sending Theodore crashing into a wall.

Enzo

Lorenzo was frustrated, frustrated with you for walking out and frustrated himself for letting you. Instead of being his usual happy self he was a stormy cloud drifting around Hogwarts scowling at everyone that so much as breathed in his direction. So when an already cranky Enzo hears the laughter of Cedric and his friends he’s eyes turn furious watching the happy lot carelessly banter. However, with his focus on the hufflepuff he overhears your name. “Cedric, did you hear (y/n) is single?” Cedric’s grins. “Yeah, I plan on asking her out sometime soon. I mean I’m not that surprised that it didn’t work out, they just weren’t a good fit.” Suddenly dropping his bag, Lorenzo struts in the directions of the group. “Hey, Diggory! You know what's a good fit?” The Hufflepuff was given zero time to calculate what was coming. “Your nose and my fist!” Enzo’s words are filled with hatred as Enzo’s fist breaks Cedric’s nose, making him stumble several steps back. 

Mattheo grins, liking this Enzo way more than the happy guy he usually was, but as he watches Lorenzo ball up his fist again he sees Cedric reach for his wand, before he can warn Enzo, he’s already flying several feet up to then crash harshly onto the stone castle floors. Everyone gasps hearing the loud tut and seeing Enzo’s body laying still.

III. The hospital wing

You had heard from Blaise what had happened and how bad it was, but even though your heart ached to be with him you were his ex and thus had lost every right to be by his side. With your head resting in your hand you picked at your food. Your friends stared at you, searching for the right thing to say. You’re about to snap at them and tell them that staring is impolite, but you catch Draco approaching you and signaling you to get up. Hesitant you walk over to him. “He’s asking for you.” He looks a bit awkward, but you nod calmly and try to act composed. As soon as you walk through the doors of the great hall and you’re out of sight, you speed walk to the hospital wing. Once in front of the door you feel yourself get shaky, fearing an uncomfortable reunion after the fight. Why did he even ask for me? Does he regret breaking up with me?

Mattheo

You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Riddle?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Mattheo’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Mattheo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Mattheo whose eyes were already on you.

“Princess.” Mattheo mutters with a groggy voice and a half smile, when you get closer he opens his arms. You are hesitant for a moment, but allow him to embrace you. When he lets go a little you immediately take a step back, making him frown at  your distant behavior. With gentle fingers move through his curls so you can study the bruise on the side of his face. Never liking the idea of you seeing him hurt and maybe thinking he’s weak Mattheo reaches for your hand, pulling it towards his chest to rest there. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You shake your head at his stupid tough act. “Why did you ask for me, Matt?” His eyebrows knit together and he chuckles. “Please don’t be mad because I got in another stupid fight.” He snakes a hand to rest on your hips, gently squeezing you as a way to get you closer to him. He wants you close to him, like you always were, but you don’t budge and just frown at him.

“Please, princes. I made a bad fall, I don’t need any more attitude from you.” You cross your arms getting angry at how he pretended like everything was fine. “Please, (y/n), I promise no fights for a week.” You huff. A week, seriously, that's not even an achievement. But also not the point, Riddle. “I don’t care that you got your ass kicked. You dumped me, you can’t just expect me to come cuddle you because you’re hurt.” Mattheo looked horrified at your words. He was utterly confused. “Dumped? What are you talking about?” He moves to properly sit up on the bed and grabs your free hand, while keeping a firm grip on the hand on his chest. Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to hold onto you tightly and make sure you didn’t leave the room. “Princess, I love you, I would never dump you.” Mattheo whispers and as he leans in to kiss you, you remember what Dumbledore had said.  He doesn’t remember that we broke up! His soft lips tenderly lock with yours, finally putting his mind at ease.

Theodore

You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Nott?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Theodore’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Theo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Theodore who’s eyes were already on you.

When he notices how hesitant you are to walk towards him Theo sighs. Ever since he woke up he had this intense need to have you close to him. “(y/n), love. Don’t be mad at me. I don’t remember any of it, but I’m pretty sure Cedric deserved it.” You slowly approach him, studying the bruise near his temple. Blaise had told you how after being slammed into the wall Theodore brutally fell down, face smacking against the cold floor and the image horrified you, but seeing how painful colors covered his face made your heart squeeze in agony. “Why? Why always get into stupid fights?” You murmur and Theo stretches, almost falling out of the bed, so he can grab your hand and pull you closer. “I honestly don’t remember.” He whispers, chuckling softly, and pats on an open spot next to him, urging you to take a seat next to him. “Theo-” You sigh and look down at his hand, holding yours. “What’s wrong?” Theodore asks, fingers gently brushing your jaw as he begs for you to look at him. You snort at his stupid question. “We’re over remember, you said so. So why did you ask for me? Did you expect me to fall back into your arms just because you got into another stupid fight?” 

Theo pulls away from you and studies your face. “What are you saying? We’re over? When did I say something like that?” A heavy sigh leaves his lips and he moves the sheets aside, wanting to get out of bed and hug you. He needed to hold you. None of the things were making any sense and he kept feeling this urgent need to hold you. Your mouth drops a little at his words, but as soon as you see him try to get out of bed you stop him. “You need to rest.” You say pushing him gently. “No, I need to hold my girlfriend.” He counters and you’re sure you hear a little panic in his voice, like he really needed to hold you. “You don’t remember?” You whisper under your breath and Theo tries to make out the words you’re saying, but it was too silent so he just stares at you guessing at what’s going on inside your head. “Move aside.” You whisper and Theo complies, laying back down in the bed and relaxing when you join him. You quietly rest your head on his shoulder as your mind struggles to grasp the bizarre situation.

Enzo

You walk in and Dumbledore looks up at you. “Ah, miss (y/l/n). Here to check up on mister Berkshire?” You nod and he smiles. “I must warn you, when he fell he hit the floor pretty hard and his memory seems to be a little foggy.” At his words the need to be by Enzo’s side becomes urgent and your eyes search for him. The headmaster gives you a sympathetic smile and moves to the side so you see Lorenzo. As Dumbledore walks by you, he turns to you one last time. “Funny things, aren’t they, memories?” Your eyebrows knit together as you watch him leave, before quickly turning towards Enzo who’s eyes were already on you.

“(y/n)! Thank Salazar, you’re finally here. Please tell them that I’m fine. They want me to stay the night for supervision, but that’s just crazy.” You take a deep breath and walk towards him. “Is that why you asked me to come?” You question dryly, making Enzo frown. “No, I just missed you. I found it weird that you weren’t here by my side when I woke up. I know you’re a busy bee, but I thought at least your boyfriend deserved a little visit and maybe a massage.” Lorenzo wiggles his eyebrows at the last bid and you cross your arms giving him a stern look. “Boyfriend? Did you really think I would come back running into your arms because your dumbass got into a fight.” Enzo pushes himself off of the pillow, clearly not pleased with your words. “Yeah, boyfriend.” He grabs your arm, pulling you against the hospital bed. “What’s gotten into you? Please don’t tell me you’re picking Cedric’s side?” 

You huff and narrow your eyes at him. “Gotten into me? You told me you were done with me and-” Enzo shakes his head in confusion, while you talk, before interrupting you. “What? I’m not done with you, you’re my girl, you’ve always been the love of my life, why would you think any different?” Enzo swings his arm around your shoulder pulling you against his chest. As he places a soft kiss on your forehead you realize what Dumbledore tried to tell you. Enzo didn’t remember your break up. He still thinks we’re dating.

IV. Like it never happened 

You had tried to tell him about the fight, but his brain just couldn’t remember and neither did he believe that he would actually let you leave. After a while you just gave up on trying to convince him it really happened and gave in to his begging for affection. Cuddled up against him, you both fell asleep in the small hospital bed. The next morning you wake up first and stare at him for several minutes debating on what to do with the situation. He had broken your heart, but now he was back and you judged yourself for it, but in truth you were happy to have him back. 

When he woke up he pulled you closer and kissed you. "Good morning." He sang and in that moment you decided that you were suffering from memory loss as well. The break up did not happen.

***

Mattheo

“Can you believe that on my first day back Snape tells me to write a three page essay?” You nod, before joining your boyfriend on his bed and brushing your fingers through his hair. “It’s Snape, I think he was being nice.” You joke and he smiles, eyes admiring your every feature. “Are you here to help me or distract me?” Mattheo smirks as you again comb his hair with your fingers. “Help.” You state before pulling away from him and reaching for some of the books scattered around on his bed. However, now that you are this close to him, Snape’s essay is the last thing on the slytherin’s mind. He snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you shake your head. “No, Matt, I know what you’re thinking about, but you need to finish your essay first.” You try to pull away, but he just tightens his grip and his smirk turns into a playful grin. “What am I thinking about exactly, princess?” You force your lips into a line, not giving him the satisfaction of a smile. 

“I’m not going to entertain your little game, Mattheo.” You resist his charm, but he’s persistent and pulls you into his lap. His lips brush your ear and you can’t see his smirk, but you know it’s there. Your cheeks heat up as you feel his warm breath on your skin. “Tell me, princess, what exactly am I thinking?” Your answer is censored.

Theodore

A very frustrated Theo drops two books onto the library table loud enough to make some people throw him a look, but he just ignores it falling in one of the chairs and sighing. You ruffle his hair in an attempt to calm him. “It’s only three pages.” Theodore lets his head fall to the side as he watches you sit down next to him. “He’s punishing me for missing class, but it’s not like it was my intention to lose consciousness and miss class.” You ignore his complaint and reach for the books. “Let's just get started. The sooner you’re done, the sooner we can do something fun.” Theodore watches you as you focus on the books, feeling drawn to you he leans in. “How about we do something fun first and then I’ll do this stupid essay.” A flustered smile tugs on your lips at his seductive voice. “You might’ve hit your head pretty hard, but you’re still the same boy as before.” You mutter trying to keep your cool and focus on the books in front of you. 

“Boy?” Theodore’s voice is playful, but there’s also something twisted about it. You had struck a nerve by belittling him like that. Without warning he gets up, gently wrapping his hand around your arm. You look up at him with a confused look. “Before I start on this essay there’s something more important I need to do.” You get up and follow in his step. “What’s this urgent thing you suddenly need to do?” You whisper still clueless. “You.” Thedore answers sternly before pushing you into a nearby broom closet. “Boy? Really?” He snaps at you before harshly crashing his lips onto yours in the dark confined space.

Enzo

“Will you read my essay and check for mistakes?” Enzo asks while you watch the water of the black lake. You look over at him as he reaches in his bag for the parchment. “Essay?” You question. “Yeah, Snape made me write a three page essay because I missed class yesterday. Like it was my fault, if anything Cedric should write a three page essay.” You snort, knowing full well that Enzo was the one that started the fight. He hands you the essay and you immediately dig in, scanning the words carefully. Your boyfriend can’t help but stare as you underline a few words. You looked drop dead gorgeous in the sunlight, intensly focussed on the paper in front of you. Gods, my girlfriend’s a sexy nerd.

“On second thought.” Enzo whispers in your ear, leaning closer. “Maybe that essay isn’t that important after all.” You bite your lip, feeling your face heat up at Enzo’s closeness. “How about we go for a swim?” Enzo reaches for the paper, but you don’t let go, trying to resist him. However, your boyfriend knows exactly how to get your attention and he places tender kisses under your ear, tracing down your neck before his nose brushes your cheek. “Or we could just go to my room.” His husky whisper and his soft touch turn you into a willing victim for whatever he has planned.

V. Morning memories

Your boyfriend shoots up from a nasty dream. With his heart racing he immediately looks next to him to check if you’re with him. You are. You are peacefully sleeping and he feels his body relax. His hand runs over his face and through his hair as he tries to wrap his head around what he had just dreamed or remembered. Slowly he realizes that it wasn’t just a dream, it was something that had actually happened. 

You two had a fight. You left. He felt so empty. Then there was Cedric. Next the fall. 

He can’t get his heart rate down and his brain is running wild as well, so he decides to quietly get up, careful to not wake you up. He slips into his sweatpants and leaves the room, sighing once he’s finally away from your sleeping figure. He scans the common room in search of his friends. When doesn’t spot a single one of the usual suspects he frowns and Pansy patiently waits for him to meet her eyes. Finally his eyes land on Pansy. “The rest of your boy band is out.” A smirk on her face as she shamelessly scans his bare chest. She wasn’t going to deny that you had great physical taste in men. “You look distressed.” She adds after a few seconds. The wise thing for him was to turn around, but your boyfriend is in need of a distraction as he feels himself panic, worried about the whole break up situation. 

“No stress.” He says, obviously stressed and crosses his arms. “Afraid she’ll figure out.” Pansy tilts her head slowly, eyes dangerous like she’s settling on a prey. He clenches his jaw. How does she know I suddenly remember? “She won’t. We’re back together and all is fine. There’s no need for her to know that I remember.” Pansy smirks. “Would it hurt that bad to admit you made a mistake and want her back?” 

Mattheo

“We’re happy. So why waste time on pointless arguments and apologies, she’s obviously already forgiven me.” Mattheo argues, slightly raising his voice, annoyed with Pansy. “I don’t know if she’s forgiven you for the fight, but if I were I would come clean, because if she finds out you remember you’ll have to apologize twice and big time.” Mattheo grits his teeth. “She won’t find out if you don’t tell.” Pansy licks her lips and her eyes wander over Mattheo’s shoulder. “Oh, Matt, don’t you know that things are never that simple.” 

It only takes Mattheo a second to realize that Pansy’s looking over his shoulder in the direction of his room. You had woken up and come to search for him. You had heard everything he had said. Slowly his eyes roll to the back of his head, throwing his head back a little in frustration with himself. Apologize twice and big time. He turns around, but your eyes only meet for a moment as you instantly turn around to head back to his room to get your stuff and get out. 

But this time Mattheo wasn’t going to let you go. He follows you and shuts the door behind you, locking you in his room as he rests against the door watching you grather your stuff. “I’m sorry.” He whispers with his head hanging low. “Oh, now you apologize.” You huff and Mattheo groans, pushing himself off of the door and into your direction. “Princess.” He whines and you turn around to face him with teary eyes. “Were you really going to continue lying?” You ask with a shaky voice and Mattheo sighs, reaching for your hands. “Probably.” You want to turn away from him, but he holds on tightly to your hands, squeezing them to ask you to look at him. “I’ll do anything to keep you with me. I don’t want to lose you.” You pull your hands back and try to push him away. “Everything, except being honest and apologizing?” You snap and he bites his tongue, while shutting his eyes for a second. “I let you walk away! I called our relationship ridiculous! How can an apology make up for that?! (y/n), I don’t just want you to forgive me I want you to forget just like I did, because I hate what I said, I hate that I let you walk through this door.”

His loud voice has you shaking a bit, but you stay in place in front of him and he sighs, looking at you with soft eyes. “I don’t- I honestly don’t know how you can put up with my shit? I can’t forgive myself- I really don’t get why you came back to me? So yeah, I wanted to continue pretending like none of it happened. I’m sorry.” You sigh and shake your head, eyes wandering around as you struggle with his stupid explanation. “I want you back. I love you.” Mattheo whispers with a pleading voice as he takes a small step towards you, he wants to reach for your hands but doesn’t dare to, so his fingers just softly brush yours. With an angry huff you turn away from him and his heart breaks, but then he sees you drop your stuff on his bed and turn back around to face him. “I love you too, Mattheo Riddle, and you should know by now that I love you so much that I can forgive the stupid stuff you do.” In an instant Mattheo’s smiling, almost grinning, he closes the distance between you two and his arms snake around you. A gentle hand brushes your hair as he adores your pretty face and drowns in your eyes. “You’re staying?” You nod and he cups your face kissing you intensely. 

Theodore

“Yeah, it would, Pansy.” Theodore snaps and Pansy grins looking back to him. A hard noise makes Theodore turn around to face the door of his room. “Oh, Theodore, you screwed up big time.” He turns around looking at Pansy for confirmation. “She heard everything.” Theodore hurries back to his room where you are quickly gathering your uniform so you can leave. As soon as you spot him you throw the first item at hand in his direction, but he gracefully catches it. “Twat!” You yell and Theodore sighs, dropping his head. “Why can’t you just apologize like a normal person, Theo?” Theodore walks over to you and grabs your arm forcing you to look at me. “You had already forgiven me so I thought, done is done.” You frown at his cheap argument. “Really? You wanted to take the easy way out?” Theo huffs at the accusation. “So did you by just coming back to me.” Your mouth drops, was he really turning this on you. “Well, I’m sorry for that, but your bruised dumb ass just wouldn’t believe that we broke up!” You angrily pull your arm back out of Theodore’s grasp, stumbling back a few steps. 

When you try to walk past him he takes a step to block you. You try to give him a shove, but it’s to no avail, he won’t budge. Quietly he waits for you to meet his eyes. When you do you notice how soft his eyes are. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I’m sorry I wanted to continue pretending like it didn’t happen, but I was so afraid that if you knew I remembered you would leave. If my memories were back there was no need for you to babysit me anymore and I can’t watch you leave a second time.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Theodore Nott you can be such an- an- urgh!” You were so annoyed with him you couldn’t find the words. “I’m an urgh?” Theo questions and now you're seriously considering punishing him in the face. When he sees you get angrier he grimaces at his own comment. “I know, I know, I’m a total urgh.” This seems to calm you down. “I’m sorry. I just want to forget about the break up again and I want you to forget as well, because I need you, I love you so much that I need you. I plan to grow old with you so yeah I thought pretending like the break up didn’t happen was a good idea.” You cross your arms. “It was a stupid idea.” You say with a stern voice and Theodore nods with sheepish eyes. “I know.” 

You sigh and now that you’re both calm, Theo wraps his arms around you pulling you against his chest. “Please tell me you can forgive me?” You listen to his heartbeat for a moment, before pulling away. “You’re lucky I love you. This was a total urgh move and I’m still a bit angry, but I forgive you.” Your boyfriend smiles and places a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling your chin up with a gentle finger. “Thanks for putting up with me.” He whispers before leaning in for a passionate kiss.

Enzo

“Why would I apologize? I got her back didn’t I?” Enzo states, rather proud of himself and Pansy gives him a funny look. “That’s a bit cheap, don’t you think? Breaking up with a girl, breaking her heart and then not even apologizing for it.” Pansy offers Enzo one last chance to decide to do the right thing as you listen, quietly standing near the door of his room. “Pans, she’s never going to figure it out, this way is just easier.” Pansy facepalms. “Enz, you’re about to get your ass dumped.” Pansy sighs and points to the door of his room open. Panic fills Enzo’s face as he realizes you might have heard something and he hurries to his room. When he notices you’re switching from your pajamas into your uniform he closes the door and chuckles awkwardly. “In a hurry?” He asks and you throw him a dark scowl. Okay, she heard. I’m such an idiot. “Thinking back about what I just said, I realize that maybe it wasn’t the best approach.” You roll your eyes at his attempt at an apology, before searching his room for your shirt, which Enzo spots before you and hides behind his back. 

“Lorenzo Berkshire! Give me back my shirt!” You say with a loud and stern voice, making Enzo nervous. “Please, sweetheart give me a chance to apologize.” You cross your arms and judge him. “I thought you didn’t want to apologize?” Your voice is dripping with irony and Enzo makes an apologetic face. “Yeah, but on second thought I think I should apologize, big time.” You tilt your head and stare him right in the eyes. “I’m sorry, (y/n). I so so so am.” Enzo pleads as he walks closer to you. “I’m just so happy we’re back together and I just wanted things to stay this way. You don’t get how much I love you. I’m miserable without you and I was afraid that if I would bring up the fight- if you knew I got my memories back then maybe we would be over again and- and- I love you, please don’t leave me.” 

You open your hand, urging him to give your shirt back and Enzo drops his shoulders, but with an aching heart he does give it back. “I’m sorry for forcing you to stay.” You take your shirt and look at Lorenzo’s sad eyes. “You’re an idiot, Berkshire.” He nods. “I know. I told the love of my life that our relationship was ridiculous and then I let her leave.” You smile at him as he looks at the floor. “But I can’t help but love you.” At those words Enzo looks up at you with hopeful eyes. “Are you forgiving me?” You chuckle. “I guess so. I love you too much.” You take a step closer to him. “Too much to stay angry at you.” A bright smile forms on Enzo’s lips, while he picks you up and twirls you around. You can’t help but laugh at how silly he is and when he sets you down again he kisses you. “We’re never breaking up again, ever.” He whispers and you nod.

Dear readers, feedback is always welcome. Sending you lots of love.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

[fooled-around-and-fell]

Can you write a one shot with Daddy Pascal? They have an age gap of 20 years and she’s super nervous to go public with him cause she’s afraid that his fans won’t like her? And he comfort her

A/n: hell yes I can, and hopefully you'll like this. Also this gif is freaking hot.

Pairing: Pedro Daddy Pascal x reader

second part || Masterlist

--------------------

"It's not that easy."

"It is." Pedro stood closer to you. "I just want to be able to call you mine in public."

You sighed, gnawing on the peeling skin of your lips, something you do when nervous. "I.. I can't."

"What?"

"I can't, I'm sorry.. I just.. I can't. Not now."

Pedro couldn't believe his ears. Both of you have been together for two years, and this has been the one thing Pedro wanted. But he kept it a secret for you, because of the age gap, because he knew you weren't ready.

But now after two years.. you're still not ready.. so what now?

---

That conversation was a week ago. Pedro got pretty upset after that, wouldn't really call you when he's on break, wouldn't tell you if he's coming home, wouldn't call you pet names -- but you understood. Pedro was justifiably upset, but you didn't think it was a good idea to go public at the moment. And it's all because of-

Pedro shut the door with a soft thud and was surprised to see you lying on the couch on your phone.

"Hey. You're still awake?" He asked, though you're obviously still are.

"Yeah, I was just browsing social media." You gave him a little smile.

Pedro nodded and proceeded to go to your shared room. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes did not go unnoticed by you, and the way he was walking tells you he was probably from a nightclub.

It's not like you two had to report your location or schedule at all times, but usually going to a nightclub is something you tell your partner.

You shook your head, not wanting to overthink it, but your thoughts kept coming back to it, and so you followed him to the bedroom and asked him.

"Were you out clubbing?"

Pedro sighed and undressed, ready to go shower. "Yeah, it was a last minute thing with some coworkers. Sorry I forgot to tell you."

"'S okay." You offered another small smile.

Ignored. Pedro walked past you to the bathroom.

As he was showering, you wondered how you should talk to Pedro about going public. It's not like you didn't want to, but have you seen the amount of fans Pedro has?

The amount of people that call him daddy, that make edits of his movies, his interviews? The amount of people who love him?

And if they find out that he's dating someone who's about 20 years younger than he is, what would happen to him? Would he be accused of grooming? Would his fans understand?

You didn't realize how long you've been standing at the same spot until Pedro gently touched your back after his shower.

"Cariño, are you feeling okay?"

Cariño.

You looked at him and exhaled. "Can we talk?"

Pedro had a feeling he knew what you wanted to say. He sighed and sat on the bed, with only his damp towel hugging his waist.

"So, have you decided I'm too old for you?"

You frowned, "what?"

"Let me guess, it's been fun but you want to find someone who's closer to your age? Or is it because you realized this lifestyle isn't for you?"

You felt a little hurt. Did Pedro really think you're going to break up with him because of this? "Pedro, I'm not breaking up with you."

"Then what is it? I've been holding back mentioning your name during interviews when they ask me if I have someone I love, and yes, I do - It's you! I love you, so so much. I want to be able to bring you to places, show you off - I know it's probably a lot to ask, but cariño... I.." he sighed, unable to finish his sentence.

He was obviously frustrated, and this was mostly the aftermath of the alcohol talking. You sat next to him and held his hand.

"I'm scared." You admitted.

"Cariño-"

"Do you know how many videos of you are out there? Ones that your fans make, some even edit them from interviews from years ago. Or how many fanfictions there are of you? Or just the amount of fans you have that worship you day and night?"

You looked at him, worry in your eyes. "They all love you and look up to you so much, and so do I. I don't want to.. to ruin your life because we're going public. We have a huge age gap between us, that doesn't normally sit well with people."

"I also want to show everyone you're mine.. you know how ugly jealous I get when I see some of your costars flirting with you on the red carpet." You placed a hand on his cheek.

Pedro chuckled, leaning into your touch. "I guess I hadn't thought about that part.."

He pulled you closer to sit on his lap, his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. "But I still want to. If they're really my fans, they'll understand. And yes, our age gap is.. pretty big, but I've never loved anyone as much as I love you."

"You are.. mi amor, mi vida. And I'd do anything to be with you." He kissed you softly.

You ran your hands through his hair, and they rested on his neck. "Okay."

"Okay?" You could hear the excitement in his voice.

"Okay." You nodded, reassuring him.

He gave you the biggest grin he had as he hugged you and pulled you both to lay down on the bed, laughing while he was at it.

"Then it's decided. You're coming to the next red carpet with me. As mine."

----

A/n: my crush on this man is starting to feel dangerous.

second part

#daddy pascal #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales #romance #joel miller #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #tlou #fluff #angst #request fic #pedro pascal narcos #pedro pascal tlou #javier pena #oberyn martell #rpf

[elsweetheart]

what you heard : part one

synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer.

♪ what you heard — sonder ♪

cw: reader is a bisexual woman dating a man, brief descriptions of having sex with a man, weed, alcohol, ellie’s sexual thoughts, blink and you miss it mention of throwing up, a man being really mean and a bad boyfriend, gay girl drama, ellie is kind of a homewrecker but reader doesn’t technically cheat, but mentions of it. kind of angsty at times? a little?

an: whew this is kinda lengthy !! idk how many words so… don’t ask me :( i hope you all enjoy it! i’ll start writing part two asap!

Ellie didn’t hate any of her customers, no. That would be bad for business. She just simply… preferred some over the others. Louis was one of those customers that she wouldn’t exactly reserve her best weed for. Not originally, at least. He was like a lot of the other guys on campus, average. Brown hair with the same old outfits, love of sports, and friend group. She could find one hundred of him. She kept a pretty exclusive clients list, not wanting to overwhelm herself with business whilst she’s really trying this year to stay on top of her studies. He wasn’t the most polite, and he was always showing up without texting first — but he paid, and that was good enough to keep him on as a customer.

Alright, maybe that wasn’t really the reason Ellie kept him on as a customer.

She always liked to check out the social media accounts of the people she sold to, try and figure out what kind of person they were, who they knew, and if they seemed like the type to give her up if a cop came knocking. Also, simply put — the girl was nosy. Don’t let her nonchalant demeanour fool you, her Insta-stalking skills rivalled the FBI. She knew she probably shouldn’t, and she did feel a little weird doing it — scrolling on her bed one evening in a hoodie and basketball shorts, she typed in Louis’ name to the Instagram search bar.

He had one picture up of you, the rest were pictures of him and his friends at parties. Real classy, she thought. She clicked the picture, wondering what kind of girl would have to be desperate enough to go out with a guy this… meh, and oh… Oh. You were smoking hot. It was a halloween throwback, a basic couple costume with Louis dressed as the devil and you, ironically enough dressed as an angel. He kept his sweaty pink hand on the curve of your ass as the two of you laughed. She wondered what was funny. He got lucky, she thought. Very lucky.

Ellie tapped you, and a tag emerged on the screen with your name. Pretty name, of course. Private account — much to her disappointment.

It would be totally inappropriate to follow you, right? Her customers girlfriend. Ellie clicked her own profile, gazing at it thoughtfully. Her profile picture was a black screen, and she had zero pictures up on her account. She had a considerable amount of followers, given her reputation but she didn’t follow many back — just a few very loyal customers, and her best friends Jesse and Dina. It would be weird to follow you right? Yes. Very weird, Ellie. She closed out the app, and pretty much forgot about it.

It was always the same exchange with Louis. He turned up, either unannounced or 2 hours late — burp, demand weed whilst barely sparing Ellie a glance or a thank you, and then head out. She didn’t always mind — not being a huge fan of small talk anyway, though she could do without the burp. He’d had texted earlier in the day, asking — no, telling Ellie that he would be passing by to pick up his usual ‘at some point’. A quiet knock rapt at the door around 02:23PM. Ellie swung the door open, coming face to face with you.

“Hi… Ellie?” You smiled. Hopeful, sweet, even prettier in person. You were wearing a little sundress with the cheap thin material that hugged every curve on your body, and if she stared a little longer like she wanted to she’d start to border on creepy. Ellie cleared her throat, fighting out a greeting and praying it would come out relatively normal.

“Yeah.” Was what she landed on. Whatever, play it cool. Pretend you didn’t try and stalk her Instagram.

“Louis isn’t coming, the weed is for me and he told me where to buy from, so… hi.” You grinned before telling her your name like she didn’t already know it.

“Hey. I’m Ellie.” And with that, she stepped aside and let you in.

It was like you brought the sunshine in from outside with you, because as soon as you stepped into her room Ellie felt too warm in her grey hoodie. She pushed the sleeves up as your eyes flickered around her dorm, realised she felt stupid and pushed them back down.

“How much you want?” She was pulling out the metal box from her drawer, glancing up at you as your brows furrowed unsurely — thinking as you tugged at your glossed lip. Ellie tried not to stare.

“Uh—” You breathed, and it relaxed Ellie slightly to see that you seemed more nervous than she did somewhat— just for a different reason. “Louis told me to just ask for what he usually gets? I’m sorry, I’ve never bought my own weed before.” You cringed, and then cringed again at the word choice. Ellie smiled fade into a soft chuckle with a nod that said ‘I bet you haven’t.’ She should have guessed, when did pretty girls ever buy their own weed?

“You’re good. I know what his usual is.” Ellie reassured, digging around in the nuggets. She pulled a couple out, placing them down on her scale before bagging them up. You held out your hand unsurely, and she pressed the plastic baggie into it. Your mouth opened to say something, and Ellie’s hand froze above yours as she watched you — trying to work out what might be wrong. “What? Is this not…”

“No, sorry. It’s perfect. I assume. I’m not sure. I just… I don’t know how to roll these. Lou told me to buy my own weed seeing as I am the one who wanted to smoke and — it’s okay. I’ll just Google it.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks turn warm at your own rambling. Ellie stopped you as you went to shove the baggie into her pocket with a calm smile, raising her eyebrows as if to say ‘Hey, it’s okay. Chill.’

“I can roll it for you. It’s no biggie.”

You visibly relaxed, and Ellie could tell because of the way your chest collapsed slightly, not suffocating your tits against the material of your dress anymore which she couldn’t help but glance at as you looked away. “Thanks. Sorry.” You guffawed, your embarrassment seeming a little relieved as you stepped back, leaning against her desk as she pulled her chair and tray out to do the rolling.

“Louis not buying your weed for you?” She conversed, eyes on the rolling paper as she carefully packed it. Your head snapped towards her, realising that you were the one who blabbed that. Her eyes glanced up at you briefly when you didn’t immediately answer.

“No. It’s… okay though.” You justified, a mass of shame swirling just below your rib cage. You didn’t wanna talk shit about your boyfriend to a stranger, even if the stranger had a totally welcoming vibe about her — and your boyfriend was cheap. Ellie tsk’d lightheartedly, shaking her head. “Against the rules, man.” She comment quietly.

“What rules?” You furrowed your brows defensively as she continued packing.

“You don’t let your girl buy her own weed?” She repeat obviously. Something about the way she said it made the embarrassment in your stomach dissipate into butterflies, which widened your eyes slightly at the disloyal feeling.

“Oh.”

Silence for a beat or two as Ellie concentrate. You notice the lesbian flag on her pinboard.

“It’ll probably just be me and my friends that smoke it anyway. The weathers nice so we’ll be at one of those frat pool parties… You don’t go to those?” You tilt your head, and her eyes lingered on you as you did so at the sugary sweetness in your gesture. God, you made her teeth hurt.

“Nah. I hear those things get weird and horny. Straight people… no offence.” She glances towards you once more, the ‘no offence’ holding little to no weight. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to give a shit about offence, anyways.

“I’m bisexual, but I understand.” You giggle, pushing yourself back to sit more on her desk, swinging your legs as you watch her roll. Her fingers froze for just a moment, before she continued rolling.

“Oh yeah?” She conversed, absolutely despising how a flame of hope flickered in her chest. Nope. Not doing this again.

“Yeah, actually I…” You chuckled. “I started college with the hopes of finding a girlfriend. Things just… didn’t end up that way I guess.” You shrugged, and you seemed happy enough but Ellie could sense the disappointment buried deep.

“Huh.” Ellie let out as she licked the rolling paper, firmly closing it up. She kind of hoped you were watching her as she did so. You weren’t. “You know if you squint really hard Louis could be a lesbian.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Ellie pushed her chair back, standing. You chuckled and she smirked, pushing the two pre rolls she’d made into a bigger baggie and then presenting them to you. “This gonna be enough?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a total lightweight.” You giggled girlishly and she nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she watched you fish around in your purse, unzipping an inside pocket to stuff the rolls inside.

“Cute.” She let slip with a smile, and your heart fluttered a little. You berated yourself for that silently.

“What extra do I owe you? Do you charge for rolling or… I don’t know how this usually works.” You pulled out your pink zip up wallet, the zip a glittery jewel between your fingers.

“Nah. No extra charge.” She held her hands up and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. That was a lie. She did usually charge extra for that, but one thing about Ellie was that she was a sucker for the pretty girl discount.

“Really?” And out came the doe eyes, your dark heavy eyelashes weighty above your pretty eyes as you looked up at her in awe. It was Ellie’s hearts turn to flutter.

“Really.” She smirked, not breaking eye contact (much to her surprise) as she pinched the cash payment from you between her pointer and middle finger knuckles, only swallowing down the giddiness when your fingers brushed hers. You grinned, zipping your wallet back up and tucking it away, feet tapping on the floor a little like you just couldn’t contain your excitement (Which made Ellie want to squeeze you.)

“I know you said it’s not your thing, but you should come to one of the pool parties. Most of the time the people there are cool. It’ll be good for business.” You wiggled your eyebrows which made Ellie’s smile uncontainable, teeth actually on display now which she honestly never did. No one was ever funny or cute enough.

“Maybe.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, walking you towards her door.

“They happen every weekend. Would be cool to see you there.” You fixed your bag over your shoulder before turning back to her. “Nice to meet you, Ellie. You’ll be seeing more of me.” You nodded formally, and the auburn haired girl tore her eyes away from the visible band of your underwear through the material of the dress when you looked back at her, muttering a “Good.”

Ellie always came away from these kind of things wishing she said more. She knew you had a boyfriend, but something about you seemed more curious. Like you weren’t totally against the idea of flirting back. Maybe it was all in her head because of the stupid crush she’d already developed. She didn’t understand it, how could someone like you feel fulfilled by someone like him. Ellie would never let you pay for your own weed, she’d treat you right. She had the means to be able to spoil you, which she didn’t need proof to know that Louis didn’t. Hell, he couldn’t even pay for his girls weed — Ellie knew stingy when she saw it. He probably wasn’t even making you cum. Not like Ellie could anyway, but then again who could? She’d like to think she had a gift — but maybe it was a guitarist-fingers thing, and years of deftly rolling tight joints.

Ellie shook her head free of the thought — sure she was a little grey-moralled — but thinking about finger fucking one of your customers girlfriends on a sunny afternoon felt a little wrong even for her. She was heading off to meet Dina to exchange notes for a class she missed, again just about willing herself to stay focused this semester. The two of them chat over coffee, the notes barely touched as the two friends joked around. When a pensive silence filled the space between them, Ellie spoke up — picking at a hangnail in a way she hoped was casual.

“You ever been to those campus pool parties? The ones at that douchey frat house?” She shrugged, glancing up at her darker haired friend.

“Uh, yeah. Like once or twice.” Dina frowned before snickering, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “What, you interested? You don’t even enjoy regular parties, hermit.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped slightly in offence, letting out a scoff before taking a sip of her coffee — still scalding hot on her tongue. “Excuse me. I’d be there strictly on business. I heard it’s… I was told I should go.” She explained. Dina’s smirk deepened, eyes lowering into slits.

“Who is she?”

“Why do you assume this is about a girl?” She rolled her jewelled eyes, before glancing around the cafe just incase anyone was listening to her pathetic segue into talking about you.

“Because last time I suggested you come with me and Jesse you nearly threw a textbook at my head.” Dina argued, making Ellie sit back in her seat, looking away in defeat as she crossed her arms over her light grey hoodie.

“She’s got a boyfriend. So it doesn’t matter. Just said it would be good for business and… the customer is always right, so I’ve been told.” Ellie rushed out, Dina’s shoulders dropping with a pitying look.

“Oh Ellie. Why put yourself through that?”

“She’s bi — okay stop. This isn’t about her. I was just asking. Fuckin’… forget it.” Ellie flipped the page of her notes now, going to scribble down what Dina had written to get her mind off the conversation.

“Alright, alright.” Her friends held up her hands. “Defensive.”

Ellie didn’t see Louis much from that point on. Same time, every week — you would be on her doorstep. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just out of convenience, or maybe you had wanted to see her. You had the same spritely, sunshine attitude each time you stepped into her dorm — lighting it up with your smile and your pretty dresses. The auburn haired dealers heart was beginning to ache in a painfully familiar way. An unrequited crush, a girl she couldn’t have. She wished she could say this was the first time she’d crushed on a girl with a boyfriend — but that would be a lie.

Each time you left, the giddiness would fade out into a prickly, warm and uncomfortable anger settling in at the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, you’d let slip the way Louis treat you — and if you didn’t say it, she could tell by the look on your face when his name would come up. Your classes were stressing you out, hence needing her weed to unwind in the first place, and your boyfriend was doing nothing to ease your anxiety, instead choosing to go out and get wasted with his friends each night. You deserved better, and she knew it wasn’t her place to say but shit, it was killing her. You were killing her. She could treat you better.

From outside the frat house, she could hear music, laughter, and water splashing from down the street. Ellie stood with Dina and Jesse, already regretting her decision.

“Fuck this. I’m turning around.” Ellie attempted to swivel, but Jesse grabbed her arm.

“No you’re not. You’re here to sell, remember? Got a friend with money, said he’d pay you good.” He gave her a light shove towards the door, Dina rolling her eyes at the two’s antics. Ellie felt overdressed, wearing her short sleeved blue worn denim shirt unbuttoned over a wife beater and shorts with her Converse, pockets stuffed with pre-rolls gifting her that usual marijuana infused smell that followed her around that said ‘Hey everyone! I’m a dealer!’ Upon stepping out into the backyard, it was clear what kind of party it was. The sun was still shining, and people seemed pretty drunk already — jumping off the low roof and into the pool, girls on the outskirts squealing in their bikinis. The floor was practically vibrating with the bass from a Drake song and the sun was sizzling the back of Ellie’s neck — recipe for a headache, she thought. She’d sell her shit, and get out.

She knew you’d be here. In the back of her mind she knew. And yet, her heart still damn near thudded out her chest when you were suddenly right in front of her, arms extended with a big toothy grin. Ellie had almost panicked, not ready for the confrontation. She hadn’t even gotten herself a drink yet, hadn’t even smoked yet and here you were. You were wearing a white bikini and it looks so pretty against your soft skin. She was looking at your tits again.

Ah, shit.

“Ellie! M’so happy you came! I didn’t think I’d ever see you at one of these!” You all but squealed, throwing your arms around her neck and pulling your body taut against hers. Ellie didn’t have to look at Dina and Jesse to know that their eyebrows were practically in their hairline, taking in the scene in front of them. Your bikini top was damp still clearly having taken a dip in the pool earlier, along with the ends of your hair and she felt the wet triangles pressing damp spots into her own chest, your tits pressed up against her. You even had the nerve to let out a happy little ‘mmph’ moan as your body collided with hers. Were you really that happy to see her? God, if I had a dick right now, it would be rock fuckin’ hard. Thank fuck I don’t, Ellie thought— eyes opening again, not realising that she had squeezed them shut to suppress a moan when she’d hugged you back.

“Uh, yeah! Told you I’d consider it.” She tried to play it cool when she pulled back, taking in your giggly expression. You didn’t let go of her arm as you pulled away, and a waft of alcohol drifted through to Ellie’s nose, suddenly helping her understand the situation a little better. You were pretty drunk, but where was your boyfriend? Ellie scanned behind you, searching for his brunette mop only to be met with several dozens of them. Great. She felt a spike of anger in her chest again, violently protective. Who just leaves their girl wandering around in a bikini, drunk, at a frat party? “Wheres your little boyfriend?” Her expression flattened out, and she caught herself. She didn’t mean for it to come out like… that. Luckily, you were drunk enough to not notice the bitterness in her tone.

“Louis? Oh— uh…” Your bottom lip stuck out as you spun around on your tiptoes to see over heads, scanning the yard for him before spinning back with a shrug. You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet and your tits bounced in Ellie’s peripheral vision. “Who knows.” You giggle, eyes jumping to Ellie’s two friends, silently watching with amused smirks.

“Oh, uh— these are my friends. Dragged me along here. Dina,” She pointed. “And Jesse.” He gave you a little wave.

“Hi!” You chirped with an adorable little wave, before telling them your own name. “I’m not usually this…uh—”

“Drunk?” Ellie leant forward quietly with a smirk, like it was a secret just between the two of you. You giggled, turning back to her, introductions long forgotten as your face morphed into a theatric pout, blown out puppy dog eyes and all.

“Who says I’m drunk? Maybe I’m just really friendly.” You practically pur, suggestiveness dripping off your tone as your hand pulled her by her arm just that little bit closer, soft fingertips over her tattoo. Just as Ellie scrambled for an answer — your name was called in a familiar voice. Louis.

“Babe, there you are.” He sounded irritated, and Ellie straightened her back, jaw squaring ever so slightly. Be friendly, Ellie. He’s a customer — she remind herself. A shitty one, but he still pays you.

“Oh…” He took Ellie in, eyes jumping over her attire before glancing back at you. She just admit, she did look violently lesbian that day — and the body language between her and his girl wasn’t looking all too great to fresh eyes. “Hey.”

You reluctantly let go of Ellie’s arm, which didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette boy.

“I was just catching up with Ellie!” You grinned, and God — were you aware of just how flirtatious you looked batting your eyelashes up at her like that? In front of your boyfriend?

“Yeah, I see that.” Louis’ eyes didn’t leave Ellie’s, which of course she took as a competition without even thinking. She took a step closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She stood around 5’7. Taller when she wore boots. Taller if she fixed her posture. He wasn’t much taller than her, so she pretty much met his eye. Her heart skipped a few beats knowing you were watching her, but she held his gaze anyway— tilting her chin up a little. “Thanks for looking after my girl.” He spoke, which almost made Ellie want to laugh.

“Any time.” Eye to eye, the smirk that tugged at her lips held more meaning and the two of you knew it. Oh, she’d look after you alright. Louis’ eyes flickered away, glancing over at Dina and Jesse before back to her, stepping away and putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Come watch me play beer pong?” He spoke to you and you shrugged happily, taking the drink out of his hand and sipping. The freckled dealer couldn’t help but briefly think about how if you were with her she would have cut you off by this point, wrapping an arm around your waist and telling you that you’d had enough to drink, maybe suggest grabbing you a water. As he lead you away, you craned in his hold to wave at Ellie, who waved a few fingers back— watching closely. It was a casual crush before, but now it was on. She didn’t like Louis’ smugness, nor his general attitude or the way he was neglecting you. She had to take you and leave him with nothing. No, Ellie. You’re being like him. She’s not a piece of meat. But she knew the protectiveness didn’t stem from that. Did she think about you sexually? Yeah. But she could give you more than that. You were a sweet girl, and you should be treated as such.

“That was tense.” Dina raised her eyebrows, breaking the auburn haired girls concentration, her gaze snapping back to her friends.

“Oh, uh — he’s fuckin’… weird. I dunno. I give him my shitty weed.” She shrugged it off, looking over her shoulder once more to watch you disappear inside.

“I get it now, though. She’s a total smoke show.” Dina dropped her hand onto Ellie’s shoulder who sighed, shaking off the whole interaction.

“Whatever. I need a drink.” Ellie rolled her eyes, stepping away.

“She was hot.”

“Jesse, it’s okay when I say it. Not when you say it.”

“What? You just called her a smoke show! You’ve never called me that.”

Ellie left the bickering couple behind to find a beer, needing something cool and alcoholic to wind her down. Why was she getting so possessive over someone that wasn’t hers? You were making her feel like a creep, and she didn’t like that. Ellie did not catch feelings easily, despite her past mistakes. So like… what the fuck?

She didn’t see you for two weeks.

Maybe you’d realised you shouldn’t be giving her the eyes. Maybe Louis stepped up his game, who knows. Neither of you had even purchased any weed, and it was approaching exam season so Ellie knew you were stressed. But did she know? Was it presumptuous of her to ‘know’ how you feel?Just based off several occurrences and conversations when you’d come to her dorm to pick up? She tried to shake the feeling of you, your skin grazing hers and your pretty eyes staring up at her — and it was actually working. Maybe time does heal everything. Until of course, she went to the library and the clocks reversed on themselves.

She had to admit, she was falling a little behind in her work. She had gotten so preoccupied in selling that she had almost forgotten to be, well… a student. Her backpack was making her shoulder sore so she switched it to the other as she wandered through the building, fairly quiet for a Tuesday. She felt a pit of irritation bud inside her when she saw someone sat in the seat she wanted, the one that was away from everyone else in the library. She note the pink laptop case, the Hello Kitty stickers on the water bottle, the bracelets on the protruding arm. Oh, it was you.

Ellie was planning to walk on by. You’re here to do work, not flirt or get yourself involved in some kind of sapphic shenanigan. Your head was on the desk, and she figured you had fallen asleep — which almost made her smile fondly before she caught herself. Not yours, Ellie. As she stepped away however, she heard a sniffle. Then another. Ellie froze, willing herself not to do it. It’s not your responsibility Ellie, you can walk away and pretend you never saw. She pursed her lips, turning around anyway.

As she did so, you were lifting your head from the table, wiping your cheeks and nose of tears. You had this pitiful pout on your face, streaming eyes all pink and glossy and your nostrils damp in this oddly adorable way. Ellie still had time to creep away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“You uh… you good?” She stood awkwardly, making you snap your head towards her in surprise. She didn’t miss the way your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment at seeing a familiar face in such a vulnerable moment.

“Oh — Ellie. Um, yes. I’m fine.” You tried, but when you held her doubtful gaze — your lip wobbled again.

“Okay.” Ellie sighed after a beat, pulling up a seat and dragging it to your small table. Yep, she was doing this. “Talk to me.” She spoke in a hushed tone. She was so gentle with her voice and her eyes and her general demeanour — something you weren’t so used to — it soothed you enough to calm you for a moment and you revelled in the unfamiliar but warm feeling she brought you.

“I don’t wanna bore you with it.” You shook your head with an demure chuckle. Ellie wanted to reach forward and wipe your tears away, her hands itched on the table in-front of her instead.

“We’re literally in the library. I promise you that nothing is more boring than my text-book.” She raised an eyebrow with the attempts of making you laugh. Instead, you watched her for a moment. Ellie could tell you were wondering why she was being so nice to you. Does she treat all her customers this way?

“It’s… stupid. Louis just…” You sigh, as if the mere mention of his name makes you cringe. “We’re not that serious. So… I don’t care what he goes off and does in his spare time,” Interesting, Ellie noted. “But he gets really mad. And when he gets mad he gets mean. I guess I just need thicker skin.” Your voice cracked.

“Or you need to be with someone who’s not an asshole.” Ellie snipped before she got the chance to stop herself. Your eyes met hers again, a little wide in shock. “Sorry.” She closed her eyes, collecting herself. You blinked and two fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

“It’s… okay.” You whispered, playing with your bracelet. A silence sat between you two, just the sound of quiet shuffling in the library and your sniffs.

“Look, don’t let him get to you. You don’t… deserve that.” She shook her head and you nodded slowly, accepting. It was as if Louis were purposely giving her more reason to dislike him, and it was getting harder to hide her distaste for him. Snide comments were slipping out more frequently, Shit — she could barely even contain her facial expressions when his name was mentioned. Something had to be done soon, because she didn’t know how much ‘pretending’ she had left in her. Thankfully, the two of you seemed to have developed a bit of a friendship — so she felt less guilty about bashing your boyfriend, as you seemed understanding due to his often unlikeable ways.

“You done here soon?” Ellie looked around at the library. You wiped your cheek, hitting save on your laptop and shrugging.

“Didn’t really have any work to do, just didn’t know where to go.” You pout sadly, making Ellie have to dig her nails into her seat this time so that she didn’t lean forward and kiss it off you.

“Y’wanna smoke? On me. You need cheering up.” She stood up, swinging her backpack back on, studying long forgotten. You looked up at her hopefully, a glint of reluctance in your eye. You didn’t know why it felt wrong, you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Just two friends hanging out, right? Louis wouldn’t know that you’re attracted to her. You wasn’t even sure if Louis remembered that you were bisexual for Gods sake, despite telling him a whole bunch of times.

“Really? I can pay you Ellie…” Your eyebrows knit together, and she was already shaking her head.

“My treat. I don’t like seeing pretty girls cry. Makes me wanna cry. You want me to cry?” She joked, pointing at herself in disbelief. She felt relief at the giggle that made its way out your throat, covering your mouth as to not disturb the other library goers. Pretty girls. The words echoed around your head until your face was hot before it dropped into your stomach and made a nest there.

“Okay.” You agreed after a moment. What harm could it do? Louis was an asshole, and the guilt began to slip away as you stood up — remembering all the nasty things he’d said to you.

“Alright, good.” Ellie grinned, turning her face away for a moment so maybe you wouldn’t see how excited she was. You did.

_

“Thats a terrible first high story.” You giggled, taking a draw from the joint.

“What? Fuck you let’s hear yours then!” Ellie gaped, leaning forward from her seat on her bed to take the joint from you as you exhaled. You bit back your smile, letting your pink, watery eyes sail off in thought at you recalled your first time smoking.

“Kay, so… I was 17.” You staged dramatically, widening your eyes slightly as she smirked at your theatrics, leaning back with her eyes glued to you. If you weren’t so blazed, maybe you’d feel nervous under her simmering gaze. “Best friends brother let us smoke some in the backyard with his friends. I tried to play it cool, but I smoked too much and start laughing and I couldn’t stop. Like — it was painful, and I was scared because I couldn’t stop laughing. And they were all looking at me like what the fuck… so I went inside, tried to calm myself down and I threw up on the carpet. Like a distressed cat.” You pouted lightheartedly as Ellie chuckled along with your story.

“Threw up? How strong was the weed? Damn.” She laughed and you shook your head.

“It might have been the shots we’d done before hand to calm our nerves. Bad idea.” You cringed and she nodded, eyes still piercing into you as her laughter died down.

“That might’ve been it, yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she brought the joint to her lips once again, sucking in as she inhaled the pungent smoke. Ellie always got this confidence about her when she smoked. Well — she always had this slightly cocky demeanour about her, but for the most part it was an act. A need to protect herself. A defence mechanism that helped her get by — being a dealer was a social ass job. But smoking made that feeling real. She knew that was bad, relying on weed for real confidence and all, but hey — she’ll take what she can get.

“How you feeling? Any better?” She tested the waters, almost sorry she brought it up when you remembered Louis’ existence, expression melting a little into one of slight disappointment. One that said ‘Oh yeah… him.’ Like you’d forgotten for a moment.

“I guess. Not gonna let it bother me like you said. I don’t have the energy.” You shrugged, tearing your gaze away to study your baby pink manicure instead. Ellie scoffed out a little chuckle, finally stubbing out the joint. The noise attracted your attention and you met her analytical stare.

“Can I… ask what you see in that guy? Not judging just… curious.” She held her hands up in defence, but you didn’t exactly jump to his rescue. Infact it took you a moment to think about it.

“I don’t…” You stop yourself from saying ‘I don’t know’, your pride still burning despite the weed letting your guard down. “He’s… nice most of the time. Kinda guy your parents want you to bring home. He’s not as bad as he seems around other people. I guess he makes me feel wanted when we’re together?” You consider, but the way you say it makes Ellie think that you don’t even fully believe it. “I think… it was gonna be just sex. When I first met him anyway, but if I’m being totally honest the sex isn’t worth it on its own so I dunno… I thought I’d feel more fulfilled by a commitment, you know?”

Ellie was delighted, to be honest. It was music to her ears. You were just spewing about how unfulfilled you were, and she was starting to feel more and more confident that she could convince you that there was a bigger and better world out there. She laughed, openly — letting the joy of the moment go to her head for a minute.

“Oh that’s funny?” You giggled back, chucking a small brown sentimental looking teddy bear at her from her bed. You pursed your lips and she could tell despite your laughter you were knocked slightly insecure by her reaction.

“A little.” She looks off to the side. You want to chuck something else at her but there’s nothing to throw.

“Why?” You push. You know why.

“Your boyfriend can’t fuck.” Her stomach tensed as another laugh bubbled up and you rolled your eyes theatrically, pushing yourself up just so you can dramatically change your position to face the other way on the bed, arms crossed and brow creased.

“Not opening up to you again.” You push out and she nudges you gently with her foot, a more sympathetic (yet equally amused) expression still at the surface.

“No, I’m sorry. Go on.” She waved her a hand a little in the smoky room, nudging you again with her sock covered toe.

“Thats it! There’s nothing else to it. My boyfriend can’t fuck and it sucks. I hate everything.” You complain, not daring to face her. She can’t help but burst out laughing again, the back of her head leaning back to rest on the wooden headboard as she runs a hand over her eyes, shielding herself from the bright dorm light, and you. She lets out an ‘ahhh’ at the end of her outburst.

She hears you whine her name, and she takes more pity on you this time purely because you sound so cute.

“Alright uh— tell me what he’s doing wrong. I’ll give you pointers to give to him so he can fix his shit.” She tries suddenly, as if just being struck by the idea — and she feels you slowly look at her. She pushes her chin down to her chest, looking at you now as she removes her hand from her eyes. You blink at her a couple of times, still pretty, still high as a kite.

You inhale through your nose, eyes drifting off in thought as you turn back towards her, invested, tucking your feet beneath your ass. You hum, coming up blank. “I don’t know. I feel like… you either got it or you don’t, you know? Sex is… emotional. Well, it should be. To him it’s just… getting off.” You shrug, opting to pick at a loose thread on her grey bed throw than look at her. The smirk is still dying on her lips like the slither of sunlight resting on water at the culmination of a sunset. She takes a little longer to think, brain fogged by her high.

“So… okay.” She pushes her palms into the bed to sit up a little more. “What do you like? I don’t really pin you as someone who… wants to be in control.” She analyses, watching you carefully for a reaction. She notices the flick up of your eyebrows and guesses — correct.

“With him there’s no… no one is in control. It’s not one person calling the shots or any kind of dynamic it’s just… we just fuck and that’s it.” You sound sad this time, like bringing the conversation to forefront was making you realised just how unhappy you were.

“Do you cum?” She asks abruptly, and you nearly choke on your own saliva. You think it catches her off guard too, because she looks away from you for a moment and itches her head before deciding fuck it, and goes back to staring. You bite your lip. Well there was that one time, you were on your back — Louis on top, you had a hand pressed between the two of you, rubbing your clit in quick sloppy circles as he got busy. Your eyes were closed. Did you cum? Kind of? Your eyes were closed. You were somewhere else. Somewhere softer and warmer, and it didn’t smell like beer and sweat. You shake your head, no. It was the closest time though, but Louis got all hostile about you touching yourself during sex. Said it was insulting, that you undermined him. You shook off the memory.

“No?” She whispers, eyebrows raised to the high heavens as if she just couldn’t fathom having sex and not making her partner cum — because that’s exactly what she was doing. She felt that hot tingling anger again in her chest, but it was dulled out by the weed — leaving her with just a light irritation at the back of her throat. “Thats fucked up.”

“Is it? I mean… orgasms take time. Doesn’t just happen in five minutes… that can get exhausting.” You defend, and you’re not sure why. You both know there’s no excuse.

“Nah.” She sniffs, not quite bothered to begin on how wrong you are. She switches the subject slightly instead. “So let me guess, missionary everytime?”

Your eyes widen, pressing your fingers over your lips to stop the childish giggle from bursting out. Ellie’s eyes widen too, realising how, well — down bad she was acting. She felt like a teenage boy on Snapchat playing truth or dare asking an uninterested girl if she’d ever send nudes before.

“Uh— fuck, you don’t have to answer that. Just making conversatio—”

“Most of the time. I think…” You decide to share something to make her feel less invasive, not wanting the conversation to end. You actually enjoyed getting to talk someone about this. “I think I’d feel good on top, maybe. But, hmm. How do I put this?” You thought. You looked at her for a moment and she gazed back, waiting on you to continue. Her breath caught in her throat when you crawled up toward her. “Lay back, please?” It was a request, not a command — and Ellie thought she might be dreaming when you straddled her with a frustrated expression.

You settled, and she was hyper aware of the feeling of your pillowy ass dropped down onto her thighs over her warm crotch.

“Okay, say I’m here. In this position.” You explain as well as you can, and when you give a few demonstrative bounces on her phantom cock her hands instinctively land on your hips to steady you. Fuck. Fucking shit. You don’t even seem to notice, or care. “This,” You point at your position. “Is me being in charge and… I don’t want that. It— it doesn’t get me off. I don’t wanna feel like I’m dominating them.” You whisper the last part like you’re telling her a secret at a girly sleepover, and she catches herself grinning before she scrambles, running over what you just said in her brain.

“Wait. Nah, that’s…” She adjusts herself slightly sheepish because she can feel herself blushing. Be cool, Ellie. Be dominant. “Thats bull. It doesn’t matter what position you’re in, it’s about how you make them feel.” She shrugs, and when you continue to stare at her, pink, glossy wide eyes— she carries on, you requiring more explanation. “If you’re on top working overtime, he should be telling you what a good job you’re doin’. How pretty you look doin’ it.” Her voices rasps in the way it does when she gets horny and she hopes she’s not giving herself away. Your mind goes a little blank, succumbing to the daydream of receiving that kind of praise. It makes your skin feel clammy. Louis isn’t below you in your daydream. Your freckled friend breaks your trail of thoughts. “And,” She’s smug now, and raises her knees behind you, planting her feet down on the bed and thrusting upwards a few times making you bounce a little, gripping her tighter. “Doesn’t matter if you were on top. I could still be the one fucking you. Just like this.”

You pause, only because you’re frozen in fear that she can feel the sudden floodgates open between your legs— praying to every God imaginable that you don’t leave some kind of pathetic wet patch on her. She thinks you’ve frozen at what she’s said.

“Uh— I mean Louis. Louis could still be the one— yeah.” She shrugs off, squeezing your hips with her warm fingers and you’re suddenly aware of your compromising position again, shaken from a dream. You slide off her quickly, bringing your knees to your chest and your back to the cool wall beside her bed. You were not a cheater. It doesn’t matter that the two of you didn’t kiss, or fuck, or whatever — what would have happened if Louis had walked in and seen you in your very gay dealers lap, pretending to have sex? You were not a cheater.

Ellie’s mouth was agape, like she wanted to say sorry but just couldn’t find it in her to feel sorry enough to say it. Her eyes were worried however, worried she’d made you uncomfortable or pushed it too far.

“I should… I shouldn’t stay. It’s getting late and—” You started looking for your bag with your laptop in it, where did you put it again?

“I’m sorry I— I didn’t mean to be weird. That was… I made you feel—” Her tone was apologetic now.

“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just hungry and I get weird when I’m… when I haven’t eaten. You’re fine. I mean, you were fine. Nothing weird just… friends hanging out, right?”

It hurt her, but Ellie nodded anyway. You were going back to him. It always ended this way.

“‘Kay. You got everything? You gonna be okay getting back? You’re still high.” Ellie stood, awkwardly dawdling behind you as you scooped up your purse. “I can walk you back—” She started patting her pockets for her key card.

“It’s okay, really. It’s still light outside and it’s a short walk. I think I need just… fresh air and quiet.” You avoid her eyes, but turn to face her as you back towards her door.

“Okay.” She was disappointed. “I hope you feel better now, ‘n stuff.” Your hand pushed the cold metal handle down and the hallway of her building was just as muggy, but it felt like a relief when some of the smoke from her dorm was released.

“I do.” You could look now, standing in the hallway as she didn’t move past her doorway. The distance made it safe enough to look at her pretty eyes without feeling you were going to do something bad. “Thank you Ellie. I owe you one.” Your brows knit together sincerely. Sure, I have a favour I need — break up with your boyfriend.

“Sure.” Ellie left it there, shook her head like it was nothing. “Text me and just… let me know that you got in okay. Yeah?” She continued to speak to you as you backed up down the hallway, awkwardly fumbling with your bag. It was wrong to let a girl walk back home high and alone. She thought about you walking around drunk and alone at that frat party. She was Louis this time.

“Will do. See you, Ellie.” Her name sounded like music when you said it. She had a new favourite song.

Your dorm was cooler, refreshing to be in when you got back. Your first mission was to look in the mirror and you sighed almost angrily seeing how flustered and a little dishevelled you look. You wanted to take the clothes off that touched her, still stinking of weed. You wanted food in your belly to flush her out. Flopping onto your back on your bed you pull your phone out, ignoring the texts and calls from your boyfriend — all to send a message to your dealer.

‘got back safe, thanks again😊’ You regret the emoji, but the Read: 5:13PM was immediate so there was no time to regret it for long. Three bubbles and then ‘Good’. You stare at the text, and then stare past the phone. You didn’t want to answer Louis right now. He could wait until tomorrow.

part two

#ellie williams x reader #dealer!ellie #ellie williams au #ellie williams fic #ellie tlou2 fic

[endlessthxxghts]

What You Need

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k

Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.

Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned)  if i missed anything, lmk pls!

Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.

MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you. 

You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee. 

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it. 

You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now. 

It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket. 

Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?

It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you. 

It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up. 

You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?” 

“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?” 

You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you. 

The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you. 

Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.” 

“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”

“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”

Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.” 

After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day. 

He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?” 

“Mhm, please.” 

“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone. 

You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you? 

Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door. 

Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first: 

“Safe words. Repeat em’.” 

“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.” 

“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.” 

You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two. 

He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?” 

Silence. 

He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”

“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out. 

“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”

Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.” 

Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman. 

Like I taught ya last week, hm?

His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors. 

You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”

“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”

You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal. 

He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it. 

He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet. 

All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod. 

“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”

And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away. 

“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”

You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”

His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible. 

So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach. 

Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit. 

You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to. 

You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible. 

“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him. 

You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient. 

He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”

You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”

Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.” 

He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only. 

The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here. 

“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”

You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.

“Color, baby?”

“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.

He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”

You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength. 

He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him. 

So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out. 

Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”

And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”

Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”

You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb. 

He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.

Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down. 

Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down. 

“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”

Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”

He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek. 

You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala. 

Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs. 

He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat. 

If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place. 

He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan. 

He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you. 

He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit. 

Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy. 

He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves. 

You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee? 

Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt. 

His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?” 

You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.” 

“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator. 

You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on. 

You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing. 

Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you. 

He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms. 

He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices. 

“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do. 

You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his. 

“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?” 

“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance. 

He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way. 

He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard. 

He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear. 

“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans. 

“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here. 

“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you. 

“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.” 

He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging. 

“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight. 

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you. 

“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more. 

With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you. 

It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk. 

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release. 

“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets. 

Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort. 

You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you. 

The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-” 

He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs. 

“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.

“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe. 

He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-” 

It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss. 

His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”

Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.” 

The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high. 

You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need. 

As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly. 

“Darlin’...” 

You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?” 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”

Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.

As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.

Much love to everyone! <3

.

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou smut #smut #Joel miller fluff #Joel miller one shot #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #endless thoughts fics

[bvidzsoo]

Darkness prevails

᯽ Author: bvidzsoo

᯽ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

᯽ Warning: suggestive, cursing, violence (lots of it), maiming/marking, extreme possessiveness, manhandling, blood, beheading, death, dubious consent, morally grey subjects (you'll see what I mean, but I promise nothing like that actually happens), let me know if I forgot something cries

᯽ Word count: 25.6k

᯽ Genre: Fantasy, Royal, Dark Romance, Gore

᯽ Summary: King Jeong Yunho, first of his name, was a ruler everybody feared and nobody dared mess with. Anyone who didn't oblige to his laws, suffered the consequences. Perhaps stealing an apple seemed like a misstep that many would've overlooked, but not Jeong Yunho. Go against the laws: get punished, branded, humiliated, forever outcasted by society, and the King himself. Unfortunately, you were way too familiar with the King's tyranny, having been the subject of his torture more than once. But what happens, when once and for all, Prince San, his brother, finally decides to get rid of the cruel monarch? Will you succeed with your mission? Will you kill King Jeong Yunho? Or will he wrap you up even deeper in his sick web of lies and threats.

᯽ A/N: My wrists are about to fall off and my eyes are dry despite the eye drops I'm using, but here it is my lovelies, the first part of the Beyond the Obscure series! Guys...it's dark, I'm sorry, so yeah, take the warnings seriously, I promise I haven't written them very in detail (imo) but they are there. I think this is my darkest work so far (even worse than San's part in my pirate series) and y'all have no idea what I have planned for Seonghwa and Yeosang's part (clawing at the wall because that one will be even worse NAUR). I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading:

∞ Yunho is continuously mentioned as the King in the story or Your Grace

∞ perhaps keeping in mind the interaction between Mingi and the redhead will come in handy for future purposes *wink wonk*

∞ I hope I did a good job with this story, and I'm sorry if it sucks, I really tried to tackle this beast of a piece...and sorry for any mistakes, I always proofread but some just slip past me *sighs*

Enjoy the story and let me know what you thought of it, I'm always so grateful to all the feedback I get!! Taglist is open, so just comment on the post if you're interested in the future parts (check out the series' masterlist too to understand how the series works, thank you!) (divider)

᯽ Taglist: @seonghwaddict @thunderous-wolf @simpforyunsangho @kitten4sannie

─═☆Series M.list☆═─

            At such an ungodly hour no lady was supposed to be roaming the streets alone, unguarded, exposed to the horrors of the slums. But some ladies had no other choice but to do so if they wanted to survive, to see tomorrow’s sunrise. Not that there was anything to anticipate or love in the Kingdom of the Fallen, ruled by a ruthless and malicious King, who slayed his people left and right whenever he pleased to do so. And perhaps that’s what ebbed me on to keep on walking, made me straighten my back to the point my muscles were straining as I made sure to become one with the shadows as I passed by the long fallen asleep households, headed towards the outskirts of our well-guarded burgh of Aurora. Don’t let it fool you, despite its name, there was nothing beautiful nor welcoming to this place, only terror, fear, and darkness. Our King made sure of that.

I tried to ignore the trembling of my fingers, but it became harder and harder to do so the closer I got to the well-concealed mansion. Large trees loomed over the gravel pathway that led to its enormous marble stairs, not one light was on inside. One would think the mansion was abandoned, but as soon as you stepped foot inside, its well-maintained state gave away the truth. Perspiration had started gathering on my brows, and I realized that underneath my pricey leather glove the skin of my right hand had started itching, begging to be scratched, but I knew doing so would cause my freshly healed wound to open up again. That wound was something I would have to live with forever, maimed, tainted for life. Marked for a wrong doing that cost the life of my little brother. It was hard not to blame or hate yourself when your sickly brother died in his sleep after you failed showing up for three days, begging and screaming to be let out of the dungeons of the wretched Castle, but my pleas fell to deaf ears, unsurprisingly.

King Jeong Yunho didn’t care about his people, and he never would. Famish and crime were at its peak despite the harsh punishments and executions. Despite the King having ears and eyes everywhere, some people managed to get away, escape unscathed, and one of those people just so happened to be Choi San, the crown prince. He fled the night his brother killed King Choi, aware that he would be next to suffer the same faith as their beloved father if he stood in his older brother’s way. Nobody really knew where Prince San went, but upon seeing his most trusted servant and Royal Guard, Sir Jung Wooyoung, around town, it became obvious that Prince San and Sir Jung were still lurking around. And despite what it seemed like, despite King Jeong being awful and vicious, Prince Choi wasn’t like him. He loved his people, he mourned with his people, he laughed with his people, and he lived for his people. Many hated him for disappearing, thinking he had abandoned us and was letting his older brother do however he wished, but many failed to understand that Prince San was powerless if it came down to a war between the brothers. Prince San didn’t have enough men to fight back against King Jeong’s tyranny. And that’s when I was summoned. Barely a day ago, a black envelope with a crown stamp on it had been slipped in my pouch without me noticing. Having opened it, I was rather surprised to find myself being summoned to the abandoned mansion, which belonged to the Royal family, on the outskirts of the burgh.

And when a royalty summoned you, you showed up without asking questions or making them wait too long. The roads were drenched in darkness, mist surrounding the narrow cobblestone streets, and smog escaped my mouth as little puffs left through my lips, heart beating even faster now that I stood in front of the dark mansion. I never fully showed my face in public, but being well past midnight without another soul out on the streets of Aurora, I offered myself the luxury of breathing in the chilly air of the night.  The moon was in waxing crescent, and averting my eyes from it, I stared up at the massive mansion and steeled my nerves, pushing away all the swirling thoughts threatening to turn me back around just to run off in the night, far away from Aurora. But even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. And even if I ran, the King’s men would find me and bring me back. I never had a choice, nor the freedom to indulge in my dreams and wishes. So, I took a deep breath, fixed the sheer scarf around the lower half of my face, and ascended the marble stairs with chills running down my spine due to the biting cold. It felt like it had seeped through my clothes, nagging at my skin, injected straight into my bones. But if I dwelled more on this feeling, I knew it was mostly the fear spreading through my blood system that made me react so strongly. And there was no place for fear tonight.

When I reached my hand out to push the front door of the mansion open, I found it already slightly ajar, beckoning me inside. My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I cautiously ventured inside, closing the heavy door behind myself, needing a second to take in the majesty of the interior of the mansion. The floor and walls alike were covered in white marble, glinting under the moonlight as the large windows had no curtains in the large entrance hall. A sturdy round table sat in the middle of the chamber, a large vase filled to the brim with flowers of all kinds sat on top of the table, in the center of it. There was a sweet scent wafting through the air, and as I ventured further inside, the cold chill present in the entrance hall slowly turned into blush inducing warmth, making me shiver as I finally started feeling my frozen limbs.

I was wandering around mindlessly, having no idea where I was supposed to go as nobody seemed to be waiting for me, my eyes straying to the walls, admiring all the expensive paintings. They were brought from lands far from ours, from a land where life was easier and happier. The Kingdom of Light, much like its name, was ruled by a Queen that loved her nation and thrived to unite the two Kingdoms. However, as long as King Jeong was our monarch, that would never happen. Faint whispers caught my attention as I came towards the end of the hall, a large door separating me from the next room. A huge painting was hung up on the wall to the left of the black door, and my jaw clenched as my eyes fixated on the family portrait, more specifically, on King Jeong Yunho. Despite him looking a lot younger in the photo, the evil glint was still present in his sharp stare, and suddenly the skin of my right hand itched again, prompting me to mindlessly try and scrape at it through the leather glove. But the whispers coming to a sudden halt from inside the room, and the faint yellow glow coming to life through the little gap under the door ripped my attention away from the young King and made me tense up as footsteps neared the door. And then, there was a click and the door was pulled open, an emotionless man, with asymmetrical eyes, stood in front of me, taking me in just as closely as I took him in.

“Sir Jung Wooyoung.” I bowed my head, keeping my eyes on the marble floor until the man made a sound of approval.

“You have arrived,” He said, voice sharp and impassive, “Come inside.”

The door was further pulled open and as Jung Wooyoung stepped aside, I stepped forward, hands clenching into fists as I tried to fight the desperate need to turn around and just run. Far away from here, from the crown prince and his loyal guard, far from Aurora. But the King would always find me, and he’d bring me back, matter not if dead or alive, he’d bring me back.

As the door slammed heavily shut behind me, I fought the need to jump at the loud sound, and instead made eye contact with the crown prince. He sat in a large chair, straight across from me, at a round table. The table was massive and could fit at least twenty men if gathered around it, but now, it was just Prince Choi, Sir Jung, and myself in the room. The blackout curtains were drawn together, its color a blood red, shutting out the gentle moonlight, masking whatever would go down in this room from the celestial. Nobody had to know what would conspire in this room soon.

“Your Highness,” I bowed forward, keeping my eyes on the carpeted floor as a low hum traveled through the otherwise quiet room, “you have called for me.”

“I have, yes.” Prince San’s voice was low, and quiet, his sharp eyes narrowed as I straightened back up. We made eye contact as there was movement behind me, Sir Jung walked past me and came to a stop behind Prince San, placing a hand on the chair’s back, grip tightening instantly, “Do you have any idea why?”

“I do not have the power to assume anything.” I answered, eyes quickly seizing the room I was in. It wasn’t awfully big, like the rest of the mansion, and it was a lot less warm in here. Bookshelves aligned the tall walls behind the prince and his guard, and a comfortable sofa was pushed up against the left wall, drenched in shadows as the candlelight didn’t reach there.

“You may speak freely with me, Miss Hong, I am not my brother.” Prince San said, teeth gritting at the mention of King Jeong, “And I do not wish to be ever like that, which is why I have called you here.”

“Don’t you deem it dangerous, Your Highness, calling me here?” I quirked an eyebrow and walked further inside, approaching the table, “King Jeong knows you are still residing in Aurora, and now you’ve given your location away to a mere civilian.”

“Are you threating the crown prince right now?” Jung Wooyoung’s voice was rough and words biting as he leashed out, vein close to popping on his forehead, eyes ablaze. He looked menacing, especially with the long sword sheathed at his hip, handle hidden by the red wool jacket decorated with golden accents falling over it.

“Wooyoung,” It was strange how soft the prince’s voice became, eyes finding the guard’s, “she’s not the enemy. You don’t have to be so on edge.”

“How do you know?” Sir Jung hissed back, eyes still on me, glaring me down. I gulped, but didn’t look away. I didn’t want them to think I was scared, even if I was.

“Miss Hong,” The prince’s attention was back on me, expression losing its coldness for a second, “May I ask you show us your hand?”

My jaw clenched as I remained silent, heart thumping fast. I wanted to tell him no, that he had no right asking such thing of me, but I couldn’t deny the crown prince’s request. And despite detesting what I had to do, with shaky fingers, I still ripped the leather glove off my hand, breathing hard as I threw the piece of fabric on the table, letting my arms fall limply next to my body. Nobody said anything nor moved for a few seconds, Sir Jung’s gaze hurriedly falling onto my exposed right hand. The room was poorly lit, yet it wasn’t hard to miss the discoloration on the top of my right hand, the skin raw and burgundy despite the long-healed wound. It was just a scar now, yet it remained fresh looking, forever a reminder of who I belonged to.

“You don’t have to trust me,” I found my voice, and perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear myself sounding so cold and harsh, “but you can trust one thing. I, in no universe, serve King Jeong Yunho. And I never will. If the scar isn’t proof enough, send me out to kill him, and I will do it with a smile on my face.”

I didn’t expect any reaction from the two males across from me, and so it surprised me when the two held matching smirks, sharing a quick look before Jung Wooyoung slowly approached me again. My eyes stayed on him, and I flinched as he gingerly grasped my right hand, raising it up. I couldn’t bear looking at the skin, so I looked at Prince San instead.

“I’m sorry for what my brother has done to you.” And his words were sincere, there was pain in Prince San’s eyes, and I knew he was sincere. I don’t know why, but despite Jung Wooyoung’s calloused hands, the way he traced my scar with the tip of his finger gingerly, made me relax a little. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me the second I approached the front door of the mansion.

“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s out of your control, Your Highness.” I muttered, looking at Wooyoung alarmed when he pressed his lips against my scar, the warm and plush skin lingering against mine for a second. Nobody has every touched my scar, let alone kissed it. When Sir Jung looked at me, he held the same guilt and pain in his eyes as Prince San. It was overwhelming, and so I ripped my hand out of Sir Jung’s gentle hold, and scurried to wear my glove again. I didn’t need their pity, what’s done is done.

“How many times has that devil seen you?” It was Sir Jung asking this time as he slowly stalked back towards Prince San, stopping next to his chair this time. I didn’t fail to notice the way the crown prince grabbed onto the back of his royal guard’s thigh, thick fingers digging into Sir Jung’s skin. They seemed used to the contact, both unphased, so I averted my gaze from it.

“Twice.” I answered, lowering the sheer black scarf from the lower half of my face, “I always wear my scarf in public.”

“And do you think he’d recognize you if he were to see you again?” Prince San asked, his hand slowly sneaking up towards Sir Jung’s ass. My eyebrows furrowed before I shook my head.

“No, he never got a good look at my face the second time, and I was branded three years ago.” I answered truthfully, “There’s not a world in which the King remembers the faces of those he torments.”

“You’re underestimating my brother,” Prince San’s lips pulled into a sneer, “he’s a sadistic man, Miss Hong, you’d be horrified to find out just how much he remembers and gets off to.”

I gulped, but remained silent as Sir Jung bit his lower lip when Prince San’s hand traveled even further up. There was movement to my left, but when I looked over to the sofa, I couldn’t see anything, so I focused on the males again.

“Are you willing to kill him?” Jung Wooyoung seemed to have gotten tired of going around and not getting to the point as he spat, eyes watching me closely. I didn’t hesitate with my answer.

“Yes.” I hissed, eyes turning steely as Sir Jung just smirked, leaning forward as he placed his hands on the sturdy table.

“Then I, Jung Wooyoung, Royal Guard of the Crown Prince Choi San, third of his name, task you with killing King Jeong Yunho, and ridding this Kingdom of his cruelty and horrors.” Sir Jung’s voice was laced with passion, eyes burning with an insatiable fire as Prince San rose from his seat, his strong physique making Jung Wooyoung look small for the first time.

“I promise you immunity and a respectable life once you’re done with your task. You won’t be suffering any consequences, and I will fulfill your biggest wish.” I chuckled, but it lacked humor as my eyes bore into the prince’s.

“I doubt you can bring back the dead, Your Highness.” Tense silence fell upon us, both looking like they understood what it meant losing someone dear. And if Prince San was being honest, then this would be my way out of Aurora, out of the Kingdom of the Fallen, “I shall proceed with the task, Your Highness, Sir Jung. Give me at least a month.”

“You can take even a year as long as you do your task.” Prince San said with a chuckle, looking like a stone had been lifted off his chest.

“Don’t fail us, Miss Hong.” Sir Jung didn’t let his guard down as easily as the prince, however, and the subtle look he sent my way was threatening. I understood. Failing meant death. But I wouldn’t let that happen.

“I won’t.” My voice was strong and I bowed, out of respect and a way of letting them know that I would be leaving now, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.

“Take care, and send us a letter if you need anything,” Prince San smiled, just barely, “I will be keeping an eye on you still, just to make sure you’re safe and everything is working out.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” I bowed my head again, and was slightly startled when a girl, who was smaller than myself and frail looking, emerged from the sofa. How did she manage to conceal herself so well? She looked shy as she avoided looking at me, eyes fixated on Sir Jung as she hurried towards him, “I’ll be on my way.”

“Safe travels.” The prince’s voice carried over the faint whispers of Sir Jung as I turned and stalked towards the door, intrigued by the gasp I heard. I gripped the heavy door and as I went to push it open, I dared a glance backwards, finding the girl seated where Prince San had been previously sat, her eyes round as she stared up at a smirking Jung Wooyoung. And Choi San sported the same expression as he walked behind her, hands slowly slipping over her shoulders, towards her chest. I didn’t want to witness something that wasn’t for my eyes, so I hurriedly fled the room and then the mansion altogether, mind a mess as I tried to work out the best plan to approach the King, and kill him. The waxing crescent moon witness to my new turmoil.

            The streets of the burgh of Aurora in the daytime were a big contrast compared to its nighttime shenanigans. It was lively and filled with people going on and about their day, trying to catch the last paper at the printing house, buying resources or selling their best products at the market. Despite the wind being harsh today, it didn’t deter people from coming out to bargain, with the occasional fight breaking out in the square, rowdy men desperate to showcase who was most domineering. I remained inconspicuous as I stood behind the stand of a herbal stall, the vendor a very lovely old lady that would let me work for her while my brother was still alive. I rarely came to the market anymore, having found different ways for survival. Perhaps I was dumb for testing my luck day after day, but three years ago, I lost the reason I had been living for. And on that same day I was branded, forever belonging to King Jeong Yunho. I wasn’t afraid of death anymore; it was only a matter of time until it would catch up to me. Stealing and getting caught only resulted in a severed hand, I would still have my other one if King Jeong felt generous that day. But in order to observe the King and follow through with the task Prince San had tasked me with, I needed to be in the most populated areas, areas which the King often frequented. And the market and square were those places. The King would parade around every day with his Royal Guards, surveying the place and taking anything he liked without as much as a ‘thank you’. Everything belonged to him, he could take whatever he pleased without any consequence. It was something we had grown familiar with quite soon after he proclaimed himself the new King of the Kingdom of the Fallen. It was no secret that Jeong Yunho killed his own father to become King much faster, to assert a regime that his father, the late King Choi, would have absolutely hated and refuted. But as long as Prince Choi San was alive, there would always be a glimmer of hope for better times. Times that would perhaps come sooner than expected if I was successful with my mission.

I had been arranging the spearmint when an old lady stopped in front of the stand, leaning on a cane, face wrinkly, her sniffing loud as she stared at all the herbs displayed on the wooden table. It was cold today, yet the old lady lacked a coat that would protect her from the harsh wind. My eyebrows furrowed, and after checking that my black shawl was in place and covering the lower half of my face, I stepped forward.

“Good morning,” I greeted the lady with an easy smile, “How may I help you?”

Her eyes slowly travelled up to my face, and I was greeted with an unfortunate sight. Her eyes were clouded with cataracts, yet they fell perfectly on my own eyes, “Dear one, please help me out a little.”

Her voice was raspy and airy, so I nodded and went around the stand to approach her, the cacophony of the market too loud for her to properly hear me.

“What would you like to buy?” I asked once I have stopped next to the lady, her grey eyes focused on the herbs.

“I’m too old for my own good,” The old lady muttered with a sad chuckle, “my joints aren’t in their best shape. Do you have something to soothe the ache? Something strong and efficient.”

I hummed and glanced at the wooden table, knowing very well what would help ease the old lady’s pain a little, “Nettle will be great for your painful joints, ma’am. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.” She nodded, eyes falling on me again, “Could you give me five leaves? That wouldn’t be more than two shillings, right?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” I reassured her with a smile as I walked back behind the stand and crouched down to grab a smaller brown parchment roll. I stood and grabbed five leaves as the loudness of the market seemed to get even louder at once, until it slowly started turning into a low murmur, becoming a mere hum. I paid it no mind as I carefully packed the nettle leaves the old lady asked for, slipping in three more without anyone noticing, before I wrapped the parchment up, making sure the leaves wouldn’t slip out, “It’ll be one shilling, ma’am.”

Despite speaking softly, my voice sounded almost too loud in the sinister silence falling upon the market, and it took me a little to realize what was happening. The old lady seemed unfocused as she had turned around, stepping back to the point she was almost pressed up fully against the wooden table of the stand. Nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. My hands clenched into fists and my leather gloves crunched at the motion, almost too loud in the deafening silence. The hooves of the horses were loud against the cobblestones and the crowd parted in the middle, scurrying to make way for the King and his Royal Guards. Despite not wanting to see them, I couldn’t help but turn my head and watch like the rest of the market, as the tall black horse rode at the front, a Friesian, carrying the King proudly on his back. Nobody would’ve been able to guess the horrors caused by the soft featured King, whose cheeks were full and tinged red due to the cold air, lips full and a dark red, eyes rather round than sharp. And yet, the emotionless expression on his face and the constant leer present on his features would make anyone reconsider their perception of the King, cowering in fear as his dark eyes would settle on you, lips pulling up in pleased smugness at the blatant fear displayed by his people. Everybody hated him, yet nobody was brave enough to finally stand up to him.

Four guards followed after him, a man with silver blonde hair and a towering height that matched the King’s following close behind with his own horse on the King’s right side, with his left side being claimed by a long-haired redhead, with eyes so haunting that they always stared right into your soul. Those two were the King’s Royal Guards, always by his side, his right hands. The King went nowhere without the two, and the silver blonde haired man was like a hound, always breathing down the King’s neck, possessive and murderous at the slightest hint of threat. One would think his obsessive behavior was concerning, but he took his job too seriously, having vowed his life to the King a long time ago. The woman wasn’t much better, but she at least was sly and coy about it, always surveying everyone and everything, sensing danger before it would happen.

The King and his guards passed by the herbal stall, and the poor old lady jumped and covered her eyes as she hung her head low, making sure she didn’t look at the King for too long. Nobody dared look at him for more than a few seconds, afraid that he’d misunderstand their curious stare and sentence them to a painful death. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But I wasn’t scared of death nor the King, and I allowed my eyes to follow his form as he came to a halt just a few stands down, where a loose-mouthed man sold jewelry. They were one of the finest you could find at the market, pricey too if you weren’t on good terms with him. I watched as the silver blonde haired guard got off his horse the second the King’s stopped, and hurried to stand next to the tall Friesian as King Jeong released the reigns, turning his head left and right slowly. The redhead followed close behind, stopping mere millimeters behind the tall guard, the two sharing a sharp glance as the male extended his hand to help the King down. The other two older guards remained on their horses, eyes surveying the market as their faces remained emotionless. I glared at the back of the King’s head sharply, his blood red gown decorated with golden accents too bright and contrasting against his otherwise black attire. His black riding breeches were tucked inside his tall riding boots, covering and protecting the King’s calves, reaching almost up to his knees, the fabric of the pants no doubt worth more than everything I’ve ever owned altogether. A thick looking black shirt clung to his broad body tightly, top buttons threatening to pop as the King rolled his shoulders a few times backwards, patting the silver blonde haired man on the back a little forcefully. The guard adorned a coat that reached mid-thigh, colors similar to the King’s, however his was rather black than red and it was adorned with red and golden accents showing his rank, and that he belonged to the Jeong Royal Court. The redhead’s coat reached down to her ankles and had intricate designs of red and golden down the back of the fabric, hair tucked under the coat.

The King moved, and I found my eyes fixating on him again, sneering to myself as he walked towards the vendor with the gemstones and jewelry. My body reacted instantly at the sight of his right hand, memory burned into my skin, quite literally, for the rest of my counted days. The King’s left hand was protected from the cold with a glove that looked like it was a soft material, however, his right hand was bare of such protection. Instead, his right hand was adorned by rings, claws, that I still could feel in my worst nightmares pressing into my skin. They were made of steel, and they were sharp, the jewelry on his fore- and middle finger sharp to the point they could cut your flesh. The ornaments clung to his long fingers like they were his second skin, part of him. The ring on his middle finger adorned a huge ruby, an addition to the piece made by King Jeong himself. His ring finger was decorated by a ring that curved to the side, caging his pinky finger in as well, which was decorated by a piece that could be compared to a miniature spear. The King’s right hand was a weapon in its own, easily able to stab and kill you just with his bare fingers. The ornaments were a family heirloom, one that only the King was allowed to wear, yet they haven’t been this sharp until they fell into the claws of Jeong Yunho. Their intricate design made them beautiful, but they carried too much terror with them for one to appreciate their beauty.

My eyes snapped up from his hand upon hearing his voice, a sound I still had nightmares about, “Chwe, did the gems arrive?”

“Your Grace,” The vendor called Chwe Hansol quickly bowed his head deeply, “yes, the gems have arrived this morning.”

“Perfect.” The King’s lips pulled to the side, the smirk making his whole demeanor more predatory. Despite only being able to see the side of his face, I knew he had a hungry glint in his eyes as the vendor grabbed a small wooden chest and opened it for the King. The redhead had started walking around while still remaining close to the King, inspecting the items the neighboring vendors of Mr. Chwe had. Everyone was tense as the King wordlessly grabbed the gemstones and inspected them from close, face becoming devoid of emotion again, eyebrows pulling into a frown slowly. I was sneering before he spoke up, well-aware that nothing would please the King, no matter how high quality it was.

“You call this a gem?” The King scoffed, irritation lacing his voice as he threw the gemstones back inside the little wooden chest harshly. Nobody would’ve handled the pricey gems like that, but when you had all the power and money in the world, one wouldn’t care, Jeong Yunho certainly didn’t. I couldn’t help the dark expression that crossed my face, eyes boring into the side of the King’s face, wondering suddenly that if I were to throw my dagger straight into his neck, how many more seconds I’d have left on this Earth before his loyal dogs would murder me in cold blood. Scarily, almost as if the silver blonde haired man was a mind reader, his head whipped around and his sharp eyes found mine, small eyes narrowing and making them appear even smaller. His impassive expression would’ve been nerve wrecking to one that appreciated their life, but I didn’t care for my safety. I had nothing left for me in this world anymore. The redhead was still roaming around, commenting at times about the quality of products, and she took a scarf without dropping any shillings to the poor vendor, her face twisting for a second before she fixed it and thanked the redhead for appreciating her merch.

“Your Grace,” Mr. Chwe found his voice, yet it sounded terrified, “These are from the Kingdom of Light, finest of its kind and most sought after—”

“Are you saying that I am stupid and can’t recognize real gemstones?” The King spat, leaning over the stand, his glaring eyes boring into the vendor’s. The man started to shake, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from interfering. If I got killed right now, I would fail the crown prince, and I couldn’t do that.

“No—no, Your Grace!” The vendor exclaimed, shaking his head furiously, “Your Grace knows better than I will ever know! I was merely say—saying what has been relayed to myself as well, Your Grace. I am ashamed of ever suggesting such thing, and I will never show my face around—”

“Now, now,” The King snickered, lips pulled into an amused, yet irritated, smirk, “don’t be a yapping little boy, are you going to cry?”

My jaw clenched and I found myself gripping onto my skirt tightly, breaths coming out shallow as the silver blonde haired man was still staring into my soul, watching my every move. His lips were pulled into a sneer, and I didn’t fail to notice his hand tightening around the handle of his sword.

“N—no, Your Grace.” Mr. Chwe lowered his eyes and shook his head, lips pulled into a thin line as his whole being shook, “Unless it’s what Your Grace wants me to do—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” The King threw his head back and laughed, yet it lacked amusement and was laced with sheer craze, the sound sending shivers down my spine, “You’d cry for your King?”

Mr. Chwe’s head was shaking as he nodded, still staring at the ground. The King suddenly hissed and I almost took off towards the two as his right hand sprung forward, gripping the vendor’s jaw so hard his claws practically tore into his skin. The man’s face contorted in pain, yet he made no sound except the quiet gasp he accidentally let out, “Then cry for me, you pathetic fool.”

The King leered in the vendor’s face, tone laced with venom, eyes wide as Mr. Chwe watched the King stunned. I bit my lower lip as my eyes switched between the King and his royal guard, whose stare would have long killed me if that were possible. I knew what my eyes conveyed, they were laced with pure hatred and disdain, boring into the King’s profile as my hands shook in anger, threatening to bubble over any time. I was playing a dangerous game; I knew the shawl did little to nothing to conceal my raw emotions pulsating through my eyes.

“Bastards like yourself shouldn’t handle gemstones.” The King hissed just as the silver blonde haired man took off, jaw clenched and eyes set on me, ablaze. I have run out of luck, so it seems. But before he could even come close to the stall I was at, the King’s venomous tone turned to a light and almost airy tone.

“Song Mingi.” It wasn’t a question, nor a chastising, yet the guard froze instantly. His eyes never left my face as the King lazily tuned his head, dark eyes falling on his tall guard. The redhead was by the King’s side instantly, probably thinking that her fellow guardian sensed danger, ready to protect her King. The market seemed frozen in time as nobody spoke or moved, wide eyes now switching between the royal guard, Song Mingi, and myself. For a second, my heart skipped a beat thinking that I have been discovered, recognized, my right hand burning under the leather glove. But as the King’s eyes slowly trailed from his guard onto me, there was no sign of recognition on his face. I gulped, not due to nervousness, but because my throat suddenly felt dry, lungs tightening as the King’s dark eyes burned my skin, tearing me apart. The memory was too vivid in my mind despite it happening three years ago, and I realized that even if I tried my best, I wouldn’t be able to mask my hatred towards Jeong Yunho. But perhaps he was so used to that reaction that he didn’t care anymore as a sinister smile suddenly tugged at his red lips, hastily releasing Mr. Chwe, who fell back with a loud gasp. The King slowly stalked towards his loyal guard, yet his eyes never once left my face, amused smirk tugging at his lips. He was amused at the blatant hatred in my eyes, and I had to steel myself to stop the shaking of my hands at the sudden flare of anger I felt coursing through my veins.

“Stand down.” The King hissed in the guard’s ear as he walked past him, sharp claws grazing against the other tall man’s neck, but he didn’t flinch nor react at the contact. My eyes remained on the King as he neared the stand I stood at, the poor old lady gasping and stepping away with a low bow, probably bad for her already hurting and crooked back. I dared say nothing as Jeong Yunho stopped right across me, the table suddenly not enough to put the much-needed space between us. It felt like he had invaded my personal space, dark eyes boring into mine, narrowing into a blazing glare when I didn’t back down. Everyone cowered before the King, and just last minute, to try to make myself seem less suspicious, I finally lowered my eyes at the various herbs on the table, but I refused to bow. The King chuckled, but it sounded more vexed than amused. I didn’t care.

“Mingi,” He called out, voice low and dark, “grab those gemstones for me, will you?”

I didn’t glance up as I heard Mr. Chwe whimper and mutter apologies, a sharp cry leaving his lips. I could only hope the wound the King’s royal guard left wouldn’t be fatal. The King’s gloved hand suddenly entered my vision as he started touching the herbs displayed on the table, humming lowly in the back of the throat. I followed his hand with my eyes, jaw clenching when he scoffed, probably not satisfied by the scarce display of herbs. Of course, it couldn’t be compared to what he was aided with at the Castle, yet that was a thought Jeong Yunho wouldn’t be able to wrap his mind around.

“You’re running low on spearmint, little dove.” His velvety voice was mocking, and I felt his sharp gaze on my face as I gulped down the retort I had in mind, and slowly looked up.

“I will stock up on them today, Your Grace.” I couldn’t help but allow my tone to turn venomous when saying his title, “Had I known you were visiting our humble market, I would’ve brought out a wider range of herbs.”

The King chuckled, incredulity crossing his features at the blatant mockery and sarcasm dripping with every word I said, “Can you afford a wider range of herbs?”

“Yes, if those who are taking pay me for my services.” It was dangerous saying such things to the King and so openly, and I couldn’t help but glance at his royal guard as his jaw was clenched, the redhead next to him also throwing daggers my way. But surprisingly, the King just laughed, however, it didn’t sound genuine at all.

“Tell me, little dove, if I really hate a person, would this herb help with getting rid of them?” He cocked an eyebrow as he traced his gloved fingers delicately against a green leaf, slightly bigger than most. It was tucked almost underneath another plant, and I had missed that we had it displayed. It shouldn’t even be there; the plant was dangerous and poisonous even at the softest touch.

“Using a Dieffenbachia would lead to a painful and slow death, Your Grace.” I answered as the King grabbed the leaves with his gloved hand, a crazed grin decorating his lips.

“Nothing more entertaining than a slow and painful death, little dove.” The King whispered, dark eyes boring into mine as a harsh gust of wind blew through the market, pushing the shawl off my head, exposing my dark curls. Thankfully it was tied around my nape and it didn’t fall off my face as well, yet I didn’t miss the way the King’s eyes quickly racked over my newly exposed features.

“If you want them to choke to death, you can let them drink the tea ground from its leaves.” I found myself saying, my tone challenging, wondering where this conversation was leading to. The King bit his lower as he looked down at the leaves, chuckling to himself before placing them back down and holding only one still as he raised his hand up, directing it towards my face. I didn’t flinch away, I didn’t even blink as my eyes bore into Jeong Yunho’s, an intrigued glint in his.

“Would you eat it if your King asked you to?” His tone dropped to a low baritone as he tilted his head to the left, features becoming cold. My jaw clenched, and I fought my instincts of turning around and running away as a chuckle left my lips.

“I would like to know how I have wronged you, Your Grace, that you seem to hate me so much you want my dismay.” I raised an eyebrow, the King’s lips slowly pulling into an amused smirk, eyes widening as he tapped the leaf against the tip of my nose, making my palms ball up into fists at my sides. My heartrate had picked up, but I forced myself to remain calm. He could force it down my throat, of course, and then the whole mission would fail because of me.

“Killing people doesn’t always need to have a reason,” Everything in my screamed to break his face in half, but I just bit my lower lip underneath my shawl and tried to regulate my breaths, “I’ll spare you today, little dove. You could be a green witch instead of wasting your life away here, behind a stand, selling herbs to useless people that have no idea how to use them.”

The King placed the Dieffenbachia leaf back to where it initially was and leaned just slightly forward, his eyes searching mine. I huffed, smiling underneath my shawl sarcastically, tilting my head as I raised my eyebrows at him, “So that you’ll have a reason to kill me because I’m a green witch?”

Not that the King needed an actual reason to kill someone.

“No, I wouldn’t kill you if you were my little green witch, little dove.” His voice darkened just as his face did, eyes turning cold and lips turning into a hungry leer as his eyes took in my face, traveling lower, all over my body. I hated the possessiveness he displayed, even more so because I was his, he just didn’t know it. The scar burned on my hand, and it felt so hot that I almost subconsciously yanked my leather glove off my hand. But if I did that, he’d know, and I’d rather die than let the King know.

Just as I opened my mouth to refute such scenario, his royal guard stepped in, looking completely fed up with the exchange between the two of us as his expression was dark, very clearly fuming while the redhead stood a little behind, smirking at the silver blonde man. We made eye contact for a second, and she subtly nodded her head towards me, prompting me to avert my eyes and look at the King again.

“My King, we should get moving.” Song Mingi’s voice was gruff, low, and raspy as his sharp eyes pierced my skull, “We have what we came for.”

“No need to rush, my Mingi,” The King chuckled, grinning at his guard, “I think we should look around today, make sure everything is as it should be. That everyone respects their duties, and King.”

I smirked as the King threw me a glare, for some obscure reason letting me off the hook despite disrespecting him so clearly and constantly.

“Keep your eyes wide open, little dove,” He sneered, jaw clenching, “you might just fall prey to a big, bad, terrifying hunter.”

I bowed my head deeply in plain mockery as the King hissed, turning around and stalking towards his Friesian. To my surprise, and everyone else’s, the redhead walked up to me and tossed a pouch filled with shillings at my chest, smirking in amusement before she was headed for her own horse. Song Mingi seemed displeased and mad, his shoulder knocked against the redhead’s when they crossed paths, and as he mounted his horse, he threw me such a murderous look that it easily rivalled the King’s. And before anyone could even digest the fact that I just got paid by the King despite him not buying anything from me, the King and his royal guards took off, horses neighing and hoofs loud as they galloped away.

            Despite the sun settling high up in the sky blazing down on Aurora, the mist settled upon the market never quite went away, the mood of people rather gloomy to after the King’s visit. It had been only a few hours since he had waltzed in with his royal guards, yet it felt like mere minutes. The King’s presence was everlasting and blood-curdling, you couldn’t escape it even if he wasn’t there anymore. It shouldn’t have been surprising, upon one glance, he could make anyone cower in fear, even the bravest and strongest soldier. I had gone about my day, selling and conversing amicably with other vendors while making sure I paid attention to the smallest shift in the atmosphere, so, I wasn’t too surprised to hear a spine-chilling scream cut off the conversation I was having with Mr. Chwe. After the King had left, I rushed to his side and patched him up, the cut on his cheek the only damage done to him, thankfully, and it wasn’t too deep either. Song Mingi had been lenient this time, it was rare. But I suppose the King needs its gemstone supplier alive if he plans on importing more treasures at a low, and illegal, price. What the King wanted, he got, no matter whether it was just or wrong.

Everyone froze as more shouting came from the square, and as the horns were blown, my muscles tensed and my stomach dropped. An execution would take place. The air was charged with suspense as everyone seemed to be at a standstill for a second before they started rushing towards the square, vendors leaving their stands unattended, civilians pushing each other aside to reach the square faster. I wasn’t in a rush, but when the King’s royal guards started shouting at everyone to move to the square while shoving people forward, I knew I had no choice but to actually attend the execution. Not that I had a choice, everyone had to attend these shenanigans of the King. My heart started racing as a man stood on the raised platform in the middle of the square, held by none other than Song Mingi and another guard, who was gruff and angry looking. I gulped as I made sure my shawl covered my face and hair, adjusting my leather gloves as suddenly they felt like they were slipping off my hands. My scar was itching, I knew it was just my brain making me believe that the wound was fresh again, but I couldn’t force myself to stop when my eyes fell on the King, the malicious smirk on his lips morbid. He stood at the side of the platform, looking like he had never been more entertained in his life before as the man his guards held on to was wriggling around frantically, whatever he was shouting didn’t make sense anymore.

I gulped hard as the King’s eyes surveyed the crowd, but when they moved past me, I felt myself relaxing just slightly. The crowd that had gathered around was murmuring lowly, everyone wondering the reason for this execution as there were some people pushing around others in order to get to the front. I did not understand the morbid need of humans to see such gruesome scenes that were to follow in a few minutes, but I couldn’t fight against the wave as I was shoved to the front. My jaw clenched and my hands turned into fists as a man was mumbling to himself behind me, urging the King on to kill the poor civilian.

“Residents of Aurora!” The King’s deep voice boomed over the masses, crazed eyes setting on the crowd. His cheeks were tainted red still, lips redder than they were in the morning, and his black hair seemed dishevelled, “We have gathered here to teach you a lesson, again.”

The crowd froze as the King leered at everyone, stepping up onto the platform, making the civilian scream that he wasn’t guilty, that he didn’t do anything wrong. The King walked past him, but turned sharply and threw such a hard blow against the man’s jaw that I heard something crack. The crowd gasped loudly and I exhaled sharply, trying to calm the rage that was slowly bubbling up in my bloodstream. I couldn’t act out right now, it would bring my dismay, the mission would be over before I could have even started it.

“This man here,” Jeong Yunho’s gloved hands slipped through the strands of the man’s matted hair, and he yanked the man’s head back harshly as he faced the crowd, the King’s neck and ears red from rage, “tried to take something that doesn’t belong to him.”

“Your Grace, I—”

“Silence!” Song Mingi hissed and threw a blow to the man’s gut. He would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the two guards holding him up. The redhead had sat on the raised platform, shoulders hunched forward as her eyes watched the crowd closely, uncomfortably settling on me for a second too long. I ignored her haunting gaze, and instead looked at the King.

“Will you try and lie your way out of this, peasant?” The King hissed as his ablaze eyes snapped towards the man, who had started whimpering and shaking his head, “You tried to take my riches, peasant. The King’s possessions, more specifically.”

“I—I wasn’t, I swear—” Jeong Yunho’s face twisted into something dark and sinister as he leaned down and got all up in the poor man’s face.

“Were you really not?” The King’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with calmness. It was frightening, the whole square went silent as the wind howled between the buildings and abandoned stands. The redhead was swinging her legs back and forth, Song Mingi’s face twisted in disgust as the man he was holding had tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” He averted his eyes to the ground, lips shaking. It was foolish of him trying to take the King’s ornaments, but I could understand him. He was probably so hungry that he was desperate enough to do something like this. Unfortunately, it would bring his end…or perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way out of Aurora forever.

“Shame your apology means nothing to me.” The King whispered, releasing the man as he walked forward to the edge of the platform, the redhead’s back straightened and she stopped swinging her legs. The King briefly glanced at her and she got off hastily, standing to the side as Song Mingi directed the smallest of smirks at her, visibly pissing the redhead off. It was slightly frightening how her height almost matched the King’s and Song Mingi’s, barely a few inches shorter than the two men. She was a powerful warrior and a strong soldier of the Royal Guard.

“There’s order in this world,” The King started, voice eerily steady as a slow grin stretched over his features, “There’s laws in this world, and they have to be respected. They will be respected as long as you all are under my watch, bevans. It’s hilarious how dumb you all are to think that you could touch something that belongs to your King, let alone try and steal it. Such behaviour will not be forgiven, and thus it will be punished accordingly.”

The King paused, licking his lips, right hand settling on the handle of the sword he had sheathed around his hips. My body was tense and my heart was beating loudly, almost so loud that I couldn’t hear the King’s words anymore. Goosebumps covered my skin everywhere, and suddenly the shawl around the lower half of my face made it hard to breathe, it felt like panic was overtaking my whole being. I felt like Jeong Yunho could see through me and I’d be the next one executed today. What if he somehow just knew that his brother sent me to assassinate him? What if the redhead and Song Mingi also knew and were only waiting for the right moment to snatch me away and kill me in the most antagonizing and slow way? My breath stuttered in my throat when the King’s eyes suddenly fell on me, as if he remembered who I was after all those years.

“Usually, severing the hand you had stolen with would do the deed,” The King tsked, dark eyes boring into mine as my right hand was burning up, “But this time it won’t be no good. I have been too lenient with my people lately; I fear you are forgetting the rules.”

The crowd muttered in discomfort as everyone hung their heads low, not wanting to be the next targeted by the King. But I couldn’t look away as Jeong Yunho smirked, narrowing his eyes challengingly at me. I would be next if I didn’t succumb to him, so, I gritted my teeth and lowered my head until the cobblestones were the only thing I could see. The King chuckled as I heard his sword being drawn.

“Good,” He leered, tapping his sword against the wooden platform, “Now, watch.”

Almost at an instant, the crowd whipped their heads up as the King walked towards his two guards, nodding once at Song Mingi as the poor man started frantically begging the King to let him off this time, that he’d serve him for the rest of his life, that he could take both hands if he wanted to. Song Mingi and the other guard holding him down suddenly forced him forward, pushing his head down onto the long table, his chin hitting the table loudly.

“No, please!” The man started shouting, trashing around, but the redhead was up on the platform in an instant, pushing his back flush against the table so that he wouldn’t move around so much, “No—no! I swear! I swear I will do anything! Please, please, be merciful Your Grace, I regret what I had done, I really do! Spear me this one time! Your Grace!”

But the King stood by the edge of the table, next to the man’s head, staring down at him with dead eyes, expression soulless. Because he didn’t have a soul, because Jeong Yunho was the Devil himself, not even trying to disguise it anymore.

“You seem to have forgotten that you are my property, bevan, and I do whatever I want to you.” The King hissed, raising his sword up high, held by both hands. My heart was beating out of my chest, and there was a collective gasp as time seemed to slow down. It wasn’t my first time seeing a beheading, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last either, but the ear-piercing shrill scream the man let out before the King’s sword came harshly down on his neck, slashing his skin, was deafening, and it made my ears ring. The sound of skin splitting open, blood gushing out, the crunching of bones, and then the hard thud of something heavy made me so nauseous that I was afraid I would throw up right then and there. My eyes were glued to the headless body that now lay limply on the table, the three guards releasing it as they stepped back. My eyes were frozen on the stray head that fell onto the platform, slowly rolling forward. It brought blood in its wake, oozing out of it, out of the headless body, his once soulful eyes now wide and unblinking, and mouth open in a silent scream. The man’s eyes were now glossed over and empty, mouth making no noise anymore, yet I could still hear his scream. My body was shaking, my mind was numb, and my right hand felt like it was slowly melting off around the scar. There was someone crying in the crowd, loudly, then there were people who were gagging. Nobody was looking at the head, nobody but me. I couldn’t look away, the rage in my bloodstream forced me to keep looking at it, to lament at the feeling, to gather it deep inside myself and channel it into every particle of my body that wanted to kill the King.

I flinched as the head fell off the platform and continued rolling towards the crowd, towards me. And despite how gruesome it looked, I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to anymore. My body and brain weren’t working in sync anymore, my thoughts were a bit hazy as my leg raised and stepped on the left cheek of the man’s head, stopping it from rolling forward anymore. A woman next to me toppled over and threw up, everyone else gasping and rushing away from us. Everyone watched, yet nobody wanted to touch it. What was so different about it now? Weren’t we all partaking in the man’s ruthless death either way? A floorboard creaked and my head snapped up, greeted by the tall form of the King as he closed in on me, eyes burning and face covered in droplets of blood. It dripped off his chin rhythmically, soaking his black shirt underneath his gown covered in the Royal colours. The smell of iron flooded my nostrils at once, almost as if the King reeked of it himself, and a sudden dizziness hit my head. But I didn’t look away, I didn’t move. The square was dead silent as the King crouched down without breaking eye contact, he was breathing through his nose hard, jaw clenched. I kept my eyes on his as I looked down at him, left hand fisting my long skirt, brushing against the metal handle of my dagger hidden underneath my thick belt. It would’ve been so easy to kill him, but the risk of failure was too high.

Suddenly, something was yanked out from underneath my foot and it hit the ground harshly, rattling my ankle, making my eyebrows furrow as the King stood to its full height, looming over me. The smell of iron was strong, but something even stronger clashed with it, the smell of vetiver. The King’s lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth, tongue poking out to wet his lips, his chocolate brown eyes blown wide with a darkness I didn’t understand yet. He looked like a man who was crazy, ready to annihilate anything in its path. I was in his path, and he would get rid of me just for the fun of it. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until the King’s eyes finally left my face, he looked over my head at the shocked crowd, holding the dead man’s head up high.

“This,” His harsh voice boomed over the silent square, “is what happens to those disobeying their King!”

I felt eyes on me, I was aware of everything around myself, but I could only stare at the King’s face as everyone else looked somewhere else. Everything was too fresh in my mind, that day when he maimed me, the day I lost my brother…it was suffocating, it was eating me up. I couldn’t breathe anymore, I needed to get air despite being out in the open square. The harsh wind wasn’t cold anymore, my body had become numb to it. My figure was trembling so hard I could hear and feel my teeth clattering against each other, my lips quivering. Yet no tears clouded my eyes, heart too stale and dry to cry anymore. There was nothing except rage and fright left in my body, and the desperate yearning for freedom. The terror wouldn’t stop as long as Jeong Yunho was alive. And when I looked up at his face again, eyes shaking in blind rage, I was surprised to find the same expression on the King’s face. He was sneering, cheeks red and nose flaring as he glared me down, his hand holding the head shook. He wanted all of us dead, and all of us wanted him dead.

My hand tightened around the handle of the dagger, and if I closed my eyes, I could everything play out in front of me. All I had to do was yank the dagger out from underneath my belt, grab onto the King’s gown and yank him closer to myself, pull him down so that we’d be eye-level so that I’d stare into his eyes full of hatred while I plunge the dagger deep inside his neck, cutting his artery. Blood would gush out, spraying on me, coating me in his royal blood, one that was red instead of blue and tasted of iron, just like of the man’s he’s killed. I wanted to stare him in his dark eyes as the life left his, wanted to hear him gargle on his own warm blood, wanted to hear his gasp for air helplessly as everyone watched him fight for his stupidly mortal life. I wanted him to suffer, to feel like everyone he’s ever hurt or killed. I wanted him to shake in terror as his life slipped away from him without him being able to do anything about it. I wanted him to beg to be speared, to be saved, to be forgiven. I wanted him to crumble at my feet and clutch at my legs, grip loosening the harder he fought to stay alive. What a stupid mortal this King was.

Powerless, defenceless, helpless.

“Scatter around everyone!” Song Mingi’s harsh and raspy voice boomed through the square, sharp eyes frightening everyone away, “Go back to your stands!”

There was a promise in the King’s eyes before he turned and threw the head onto the platform, some men from the pub rushing over to clear the platform. And I was walking away stiffly, hand still clutching my dagger as I tried to ignore the painful itch of my scar. It felt like daggers were thrown towards me, and I didn’t have to look back to see the King, the redhead, and Song Mingi stare at my retreating form. I didn’t have to look back because I knew I had made myself the King’s target, a price on my head if I were to misbehave even in the slightest bit. And I didn’t have to see or hear the King as his lips moved, words hushed as he instructed his trusted royal guard to keep an eye on me, suspicious of my identity and intentions.

            Once the devil catches you, you can’t escape its clutches ever again. He holds you down, robs you of your soul and sucks the life out of you until you’re nothing but a shell of what you once used to be. He sucks you dry of your life essence; he robs you of the light in your eyes, of the love harboured inside of you, of all of your joy, of the will to continue living. And once he’s done with you, he leaves you alone in this world to rot away, to suffer, to cry, to hate, until your heart is nothing but a rotten fruit. A damned fruit.

Forbidden, tempting, dangerous.

If famish wasn’t such a strong state of mind, so strong that it consumes your thoughts in its entirety, the damned fruit would’ve remained untouched. But when famish mingles with fear and pain, it leaves you desperate enough to go to lengths that you know once caught would make you suffer.

There was nobody but myself to blame as I was veered inside the cold Throne Room, heart pounding and eyes tear filled as people moaned and groaned in pain, a line consisting of five people in front of me. The grip on my right arm was so painful and so tight that it probably had already cut off my blood flow, and I couldn’t fight it off. I was frail and small, a man twice my size and height could easily do whatever to me. And yet, despite knowing that I might not see another sunrise, all I could think about was my sickly brother laying in his bed, struggling to breathe while hungry. I had almost made it outside the market when I heard someone chase after me, shouting as they closed in on me. Somebody saw me take the damn apple, and they snitched to the Royal Guard, to Song Mingi. All I wanted was to feed my sick brother, to prolong his time in this world and fulfil one wish of his. He just wanted to eat an apple.

My body trembled as the lady at the front of the line wailed in pain, choking on her own screams as the smell of burnt skin was horrid in the room, bringing acid into my throat. I was nauseous, I felt like passing out. I tried to yank my arm free again and bolt out of the Throne Room, but the guard holding me just hissed and yanked me forward as the sobbing woman was dragged away, hand cradled to her chest. I couldn’t look, I was too afraid. I knew what would happen to me, everybody knew what would happen to them if they dared steal, but I didn’t want to accept it yet. I just couldn’t. If the King branded you, you were his for eternity.

The Devil would find you in his next life, and he would claim you again as his. He would make you suffer; he would torture you and laugh while you beg for forgiveness.

I jumped as a man at the front started begging loudly, falling to his knees as his arm was forced onto the marble table, the fireplace blazing the closer we got to it. There were only three more people in front of me. The man started crying, trying to free himself, but the King’s laughter echoed in the vast Throne Room, and then the man’s scream was so loud it made my ears ring. I fought against the grip on myself again, breathing getting shallow as my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would die from heart failure before the sizzling metal rod could even touch my skin.

“Stop whimpering, you stupid bitch.” The tall man holding me hissed, sharp eyes boring into mine as he loomed over me with his lanky form. He was frightening, he was the Devil’s right hand, he was his Beelzebub. It felt like the room was closing in on me despite its grandiose size, like it was about to swallow me whole as perspiration gathered on my brows, slowly dripping down my temples. I couldn’t breathe when another man was maimed, marked for life, screams echoing in the vast chamber. My captor just smirked as the fear I felt reflected off my face, pulling me closer towards my tormentor. I wanted to run away, I wanted to save myself, I needed to return to my brother, but I wasn’t strong enough.

The King’s face was twisted in a sick expression as he pressed the metal rod into another man’s hand, his victim having long fainted. The man lay limply on the floor when the guard holding him up released him, and the King kicked him, but the man didn’t budge. The King’s jaw clenched and he groaned, looking at the guard who had held the man as if he was exasperated by his incompetence.

“Take this scum away, you fool!” He hissed, dark eyes settling on his guard as he bared his teeth at him. The King was even scarier in person, from up close, in the Throne Room. His red cheeks and burgundy tainted lips could’ve fooled anyone who didn’t know him. Why did a Devil like him have such soft features when all he did was hurt and hurt others, terrorize them and make them wish they were never born? Why was someone with an Angel face a creature so dark everyone feared its name and existence? My body shook uncontrollably as I realized I was next in line. Time stood still for a second, everything disappearing around me as my ears rung and eyes saw white only. And then, as my captor tugged on my arm, everything hit me at full force.

My rapid heartbeat, the thumping of my head, the desperation crawling up my throat, the need to save myself, I had to get out. I had to return to my brother, he just wanted an apple. Why was life unfair? Almost as if awoken from a dormant sleep, adrenaline kicked hard through my system, flooding my whole being like I didn’t know it was even possible. My lungs expanded and muscles tensed, and when Song Mingi tugged on my arm again, barely three steps away from the marble table, I jumped. I jumped and I kicked at the man’s chest, scratching his neck and making him yelp in pain. Yet he never released me, but I wasn’t giving up. I had to save myself, nobody else would do it for me. And so, I kicked when I was hoisted up by my waist, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even punched whoever dared touch me. But as if I weighted nothing, I was thrown on the marble table, back hitting it hard, head crushing into the cold table. I gasped, vision fuzzy for a second, until a dark and sinister laugh snapped me back to reality. I froze when I realized I was being held down against the table by Song Mingi, expression so dark I would’ve recoiled if I could’ve. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was so sharp it could’ve cut me if it were possible. But the King, Jeong Yunho, he was calm. He looked the opposite of what his Royal Guard looked like, and something dropped deep in my stomach.

The King looked entertained by the fight I was putting up; he was enjoying it. My lower lip quivered as a hand decorated with rings, metal ornaments, reached out and lightly traced my bottom lip. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes were captivated by Jeong Yunho’s dark ones, pupils dilated as he sneered, a crazed look crossing his features as I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. The King gripped my jaw tightly, so tightly that I thought he’d break it in two, but what was even more painful were the sharp ends of his rings cutting into my skin. I whimpered as I tried to pull my head away, but I was immobilised by Song Mingi, who was smirking as he watched the exchange.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered as his eyebrows furrowed, mock concern crossing his features, “Look at how frightened she is, My Mingi.”

The royal guard’s eyes turned even darker, a predatory look crossing his features as he chuckled, hold on me tightening just a little more as my body started shaking more violently, breathing loud as I breathed through my nose. The King’s smirk matched his guard’s, and he released a long sigh, making me whimper when he dug his sharp claws more into my skin, something hot prickling down my jaw and my neck, disappearing underneath the neckline of my black dress. The King’s eyes followed the drop of blood, and he closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, a look so evil was present in his eyes that I shook my head at him involuntarily, begging him wordlessly to spare me, to let me go just this time.

“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered, pursing his blood red lips, suddenly releasing my jaw as he grabbed something. My heart raced faster than before, if that were even possible, and I shook my head as I felt sobs bubbling up my throat.

“Please, please, please,” My voice was hoarse and shaky, my mouth struggled to form the words I so desperately tried to speak, “My brother is sick, please.”

“You know the rules, little dove.” There was almost something like sadness tinging Jeong Yunho’s voice as his mouth pulled to the side, eyes staring off into the blazing fire. My jaw clenched as I looked at what he was holding, and my stomach coiled in even more fear. I couldn’t let this happen, I just couldn’t.

“Let me go, I promise I will never do it again, Your Grace.” I begged, hoping that I could get to him somehow, but the King just hummed as if he wasn’t truly listening to me. I was terrified, but I couldn’t help but feel wronged. If the King provided us with everything we needed, with sufficient food, then we wouldn’t have to go out and steal as a means of survival. He was the one forcing us into doing these things, and yet he was the one punishing us for something he would never change. It was unfair, and I couldn’t help but soak in the sudden anger that flared through my body, making me fight against the royal guard as he pinned my right against the marble table, holding me down by my shoulders with his other hand.

“Why should I pay for something I’m forced to do because you have never once helped your people, Your Grace?” I snapped, glaring at the side of the King’s head. He didn’t react, and I couldn’t remain silent anymore, “Why are you punishing me when you’re the one forcing us to live in poverty and famish, My King?”

I winced when Song Mingi’s elbow dug into my shoulder painfully, but I didn’t stop glaring up at the King as he looked borderline bored, uninterested in what I had to say.

“My brother is dying because of you!” I screamed, losing my sanity as the King didn’t react, only chuckled quietly, “My brother is dying because you took away everything from us and forced us into the slums. My brother is dying because you hold people in such terror that not even an apple can be gifted anymore. I stole that apple, because nobody would give it to me anymore out of kindness. While King Choi was alive, the Kingdom was flourishing. Everyone was happy and content, everyone enjoyed life. You—you are no King, Jeong Yunho—”

“Shut up, wench!” Song Mingi’s face was suddenly looming over mine as he screamed in my face, his whole face red and enraged as I stared back at him wide eyed. My heart was racing and I started trashing around violently, trying to fight the guard off again, but to no avail.

“My Mingi,” The King’s voice was light and soft, head turning to glance down at us, “don’t rile yourself up over the words of a poor peasant.”

“But—My King, she’s—” The guard looked shocked as he stared at the King wide eyed, seemingly confused.

“A stupid, confused, little girl,” The King chuckled, looking down at me with pity on his face that made me sick to my stomach, “she doesn’t know better. Perhaps this will teach her a lesson for once and for all.”

My eyes widened when the King’s hand moved, the sizzling hot rod pulled out of the fire, getting closer and closer to my body as the King moved agonizingly slow, taunting me by the large grin on his face. I whimpered and bit my lower lip, aware that Song Mingi was holding me even firmer than before, jaw set tight as his eyes were glued onto the King.

“No—” I stuttered, gasping for air as the King lightly grazed my hand with his gloved hand, “No! Don’t—don’t touch me!”

A serene smile appeared on his lips, looking into my eyes with a look that made me feel like a small child who had misbehaved and was now getting lectured for it. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to wriggle myself free, trashing my legs around and trying to push Song Mingi off myself, but his strength was incredible, and I was too frail to even as much as make him budge, “Let go of me! I didn’t do anything wrong! Don’t touch me!”

My throat hurt from my screams, but I wouldn’t give up. I would never, I had to get back to my brother. I couldn’t let that iron rod touch my skin; I’d be the King’s forever. I couldn’t let the Devil bound me to himself, I just couldn’t. I’d never be free again, I’d never be able to leave Aurora, “Now, if you stop throwing a fuss it’ll hurt less, little dove—”

The saliva that had gathered in my mouth landed on the King’s cheek as I spat at him, nose flared and eyes wide in rage and fear as my lungs heaved for air, “You’ll burn in the depths of Hell for—”

The iron grip around my throat rendered me speechless in seconds, before I could finish my curse. My eyes bulged as I clawed at the large hand wrapped around my neck with my left hand, Song Mingi’s grip the last thing I’d feel before I’d meet my death. The King just watched us, he didn’t blink, he didn’t react. His lips twitched, but he said nothing as my spit slowly dripped down his cheek, “My Mingi.”

And before I could even wrap my mind around the sudden oxygen rush in my lungs, a searing pain shot through the top of my right hand, so hot and so painful that a scream was instantly ripped from my hoarse throat. My back arched and fingers scraped at nothing as my right arm was still held down by the guard, the King’s eyes boring onto my face as he watched me frail around in excruciating pain. The smell of burnt flesh was disgusting and it made me gag knowing that it was my own flesh burning, branded by the Crown’s emblem for life. My vision went white for a second as the rod was still burning into my flesh, it felt like it would go through my hand at any given moment, creating a gaping hole in it. I heaved for air as I couldn’t scream anymore, body shaking in shock as suddenly the King smirked, yanking the rod off my hand. A loud sob ripped through my body, right hand shaking so badly that it felt like it was an alien limb, not controlled by my own body. The restricting hands were gone from my body, and I was afraid to look at the damage done. I was on the brink of passing out and throwing up at the same time, when suddenly the King’s gloved hand was in the air, and the next second it was connected to my cheek, sending my head flying to the side. The slap echoed in the vast room, and my sobs instantly stilled as my curly hair fell over my face, shielding it from the eyes of the two tyrants. My body stilled, yet my right hand never stopped shaking. The pain was searing, pulsing, traveling from my hand up to my wrist and my whole arm, making me grit my teeth as I tried not to cry out. It hurt so badly that it made me want to claw at the scorched skin.

“You’re mine, little dove,” The King’s dark words were whispered in my ear, voice deep, “and if you try to run, I will find you, and I will kill you with my own hands.”

“Burn in hell.” I managed to grit out through my teeth, throat feeling like sandpaper. The King chuckled; sound high pitched as I heard the metal rod being thrown onto the marble floor of the Throne Room.

“She’s a handful, My Mingi,” The King mused, and I felt a gloved hand grip my right thigh as I was veered off the table. I managed to sit up last minute and save myself from tumbling onto the floor, “Take her to the dungeons, let’s teach her another lesson for being disobedient and trying to curse her King.”

My eyes widened, desperation clawing at my bones as I tried to push the guard off, but he just grabbed my arms and tied them behind my back before I could even as much as protest. My head was spinning and it was a little hard to realize what exactly was happening, the pain coming from my hand the only thing I could focus on as Song Mingi made me walk, veering me towards some stone stairs at the back of the Throne Room. Yet, I was aware that I needed to go back to my brother.

“No, no, no—my brother—” A sob cut me off as I tried to plead with Song Mingi, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, expression stone cold as I cried harder, “He’ll die, please!”

I was yanked back by my hair and forced to stop as Song Mingi breathed hard through his nose, eyes burning as he glared at me sharply, “I do not understand why My King spared you, but if you won’t shut your fucking mouth, I will gut you right here and right now. Then, you’ll join your brother you keep wailing for in Eden.”

I gasped as I shoot up, clutching at my chest and right hand shaking from the dull ache coursing through it, sweat covering my face and neck. My heart was beating frantically as I gasped for air, eyes searching my surroundings wildly. It was dark around me, but the moonlight shone through the opened curtains. The little candle I had lit before going to bed had burned out, and the sturdy wood of my bed made my back ache. I was safe. I was in laying in my bed, in my pathetic excuse of a cottage, far away from the Castle and the Throne Room. I tried taking deep breaths, tried slowing my heartbeats, tried to reason with myself that all of that was just a dream. But it wasn’t, it was a reoccurring nightmare of that cursed day. It made me miss my brother even terribly more, and as my eyes shifted towards the small dresser I had across from my bed, my eyes landed on the sketch of the King given to me by Sir Jung. Fury flamed inside my chest as my left hand slipped underneath my cold pillow, and in a swift movement, I pulled my dagger out from underneath and flung it at the sketch as a scream ripped through my lips. Jeong Yunho will pay for everything he’s done.

            It had been two weeks since the beheading in the square, two weeks of me spying on the King to my best capacities. It wasn’t easy to remain unseen, but I managed to sneak by his Royal Guards just fine each time. Song Mingi and the redhead weren’t as attentive as they thought they were. Perhaps the King wouldn’t sleep so well at night knowing that his most trusted guards were incapable of sensing danger and noticing the littlest changes around themselves.

The King’s schedule was quite simple and easy. He left the Castle grounds early in the morning to go on a hunt in the forest surrounding his estate, then he’d go down to the market and parade down the wealthier parts of Aurora. It wasn’t too often that he went anywhere else but straight back to the Castle once he was done agonizing his people in the streets, however, he had gone once or twice dangerously close to the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhibited now. There was also a time when the King was headed to the slums, to a shop famous for its otherworldly businesses, meaning witchcraft. The King wasn’t opposed to it as long as the witches served him, and him alone. Anyone who dared use their knowledge against the King would be burned on a rug, in the square. There had been witch hunts before, they used to be more frequent while King Choi was the ruler as he was opposed to anything that dealt with darkness, however, Jeong Yunho wasn’t like that. He embraced the dark and he craved the power that came with it, a false sense of immortality laying within him. It only took me two days to realize that the King was plotting something, something that was kept hush-hush and a secret from even his two most trusted guards. The King had let them go back to the Castle one afternoon and then he galloped out of Aurora, only returning the next day. I couldn’t go after him, and curiosity ate me up when the next day the King had gone to the same witchcraft shop, staying in there for hours, looking pale and almost ghostly by the time he finally left the shop. If it weren’t for Song Mingi, who was at an instant by the King’s side, he would’ve crumbled to floor and fainted. The King was doing something very highly illicit, and I needed to find out just what. Both for my own sake, but also to help Prince Choi and Sir Jung in taking the Crown from Jeong Yunho.

Tonight hadn’t been different from the King’s daily shenanigans, however, for a change, the King had gone to a run-down pub, located a little bit too close to the slums. He was joined by his two loyal guards, Song Mingi and the redhead. They wore long black gowns to hide their identities as they slipped past the dark shadows coating the streets, the lamplighters not bothering to light the candles in this part of Aurora. Of course, that did not come as a surprise. The only adequately lit parts of our burgh were the market and square, where the royal guards would march around to check if the lamplighters were indeed doing their duties. Nobody cared about those suffering outside of the richer parts of Aurora, nobody cared about people like me.

I pressed closer against the cold brick wall of a rickety hut, barely holding itself up. Many houses looked like that in the area, and it was a truly saddening sight, especially when families with lots of children were forced to live in such conditions due to the King taking everything from them, leaving them to the rats. I tried not to think of those people, it made me remember my brother, and tonight I had to focus. I needed to get closer to the pub somehow, to gain more intel on whatever was going on inside, of what the King was up to once again. But by the time I gathered my courage and came up with a flawed plan, the door to the pub was kicked open and a drunk man stumbled outside, followed by two tall gowned figures. The drunk man was loudly whistling and he stumbled on a misplaced cobblestone, roughly crashing into the side of the pub. He howled in pain, but I paid him no mind as the tall figures turned the opposite way of the drunken man had started tumbling towards, and started walking. Their pace was fast, almost as if they were trying to get away from something.

I took a deep breath and remaining in the shadows, I crept after them, eyes fixated on their tall figures. I kept a few good meters between us, and I made sure to keep my footsteps light, so that they wouldn’t accidentally hear me. The sky was clear for once, and the moonlight was your only guide through the dark streets. For once, I was grateful that the lamplighters didn’t perform to their full capacity and left the slums unattended, making my job so much easier right now. I tried to decipher who was who, but the King and his Guard’s similarity in physique was a scary realization. Perhaps Song Mingi’s shoulders were wider and stance firmer, but I couldn’t say for sure. Especially when their strides seemingly were the same. I couldn’t tell the King and his Guard apart from behind, and I felt anxiety crawl up my throat as I prayed to God that the two wouldn’t separate.

The long street we had been walking down came to a crossroads soon. Going to the left would lead you back to the prettier and cleaner district of Aurora, however, turning right would take you towards the dense and haunting forest, towards the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhabited. As the two men took a left turn, I came to the alarming realization that the redhead was seemingly nowhere, and she had arrived with them to the pub. Could she have stayed back? Had the two men gotten rid of her? That sounded absurd, everybody knew those in the Royal Guard gave their lives to the King, and the redhead was one of his most devoted soldier, she surely wouldn’t have committed treason against someone she so blindly worshipped. But then where was she? My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as I had started glancing behind myself, paranoid that I was also being followed, probably by the redhead. If they were to catch me now, I would most certainly die as they outnumbered and outpowered me easily. I might have gotten stronger over the past years, but I still remained with a smaller built. And I was no warrior, I lacked the skills they have mastered a long time ago.

The streets turned narrow once again as we got closer and closer to the richer area, cottages in better conditions littering both sides of the street. There were very few candles still alight in the houses, and I had to be more careful as the candle lighting of the streets was better in this area. I pulled the shawl tighter around my face, and made myself smaller as the two men continued walking, but faster than before. I had to run, almost, to keep up with them. My breaths left my mouth in short puffs and as the two men rounded the corner, the main street leading them back to the Castle, I followed suit. However, I almost yelped as I crashed against a hard body, sending me backwards. I instantly panicked, eyes wide in fear as my left hand went to grab my dagger, but the man that I had stumbled into was neither the King nor Song Mingi. It was just a drunken civilian, looking borderline sick. His eyes were squinted and as he tried leaning closer to get a better look at my face, I grabbed his head and pushed him to the side, making him stumble. If I wouldn’t have caught his arm quickly, he would’ve stumbled to the hard cobblestone covered road. I have underestimated his state, and I took pity on him as he looked confused.

“Go home, old man, it isn’t safe out here.” I snapped at him; eyes boring into his. The man just blinked and then nodded once, clumsily taking off again, stumbling into every possible bench and bush he could. I shook my head and quickly rounded the corner, hoping that the distraction wasn’t long enough to make me lose my targets. But, to my misfortune, there was only one tall figure walking down the long street, their pace a lot slower this time. I gulped and pulled the neckline of my own gown tighter around my shoulders, heart beating fast as I hoped the man I was following was indeed the King himself, and not Song Mingi. But I couldn’t be sure, and I was helpless as I followed after him. He was a little ahead, a few good steps, and I refrained from closing the gap again, hesitant to give away my presence just yet. If it wasn’t the King, then I had no reason to follow his Guard, he was of no use to me. My eyebrows furrowed when the tall man took a right turn, going down a street that wasn’t leading towards the Castle anymore. What had they planned? Looking behind myself, left and right too, I made sure I wasn’t followed as I quickly ran down the rest of the street before rounding the same corner the man had, gripping the handle of my dagger. It was a narrow backstreet that connected to a dirt road which led down to a small field if you continued walking left, however, it met with another even shorter path, which was a dead-end behind a fancy Inn. The man continued walking, pace once again hurried, until suddenly a black shadow leaped from the side of a building, knocking the tall man into the narrow dead-end. My eyes widened as I froze in the middle of the street, heart pounding in my chest. What was happening? I should’ve turned around and left, but I had to know whether it was the King or Song Mingi getting attacked in the middle of the night. And so, I pressed myself against the brick wall of the Inn and crept to the edge of the building, peeking my head around the corner, just barely.

The unmistakable silver blonde hair was glinting underneath the moonlight as the hood of Song Mingi’s gown had fallen down, and I hissed in displeasure. I had been fooled. I wasn’t following the King, but Song Mingi. So where had the King gone then? What was he up to again? Or was Song Mingi just getting frisky behind an Inn after a night spent at a pub getting drunk? My question was quickly answered as a hard blow was thrown against the guard’s jaw, sending his head in the opposite direction. The guard hissed and suddenly sprung forward, hand wrapping around the throat of his attacker. But the attacker was quick to fight back, and the person’s nails dug into Song Mingi’s wrist until he was forced to release his attacker. The person grabbed the collar of his gown and pinned him against the wall, face leaning dangerously close to Song Mingi’s. The height difference was minimal between the two, and my eyes widened as the person’s hood slipped from her head, revealing her red hair. What were Jeong Yunho’s royal guards doing in a dead-end, mauling each other around?

“You complete scum!” The redhead’s voice was shaky, laced with venom, “How dare you go to our King and say such lies about me?!”

Song Mingi remained unmoving, finally having given up fighting the redhead. Instead, he leaned his head against the tall cement fence he was pressed up against, and smirked.

“I see My King has let you know about the little change that’s happened.” I watched as the redhead’s grip tightened even more around Song Mingi’s gown.

“I was supposed to go on that mission, Mingi.” The redhead pressed; tone hard.

“And now it’s me going, foxy.” Song Mingi chuckled in amusement, and I heard the redhead let out a frustrated yelp. I pressed myself against the brick wall, turning away from the scene. I could hear the two guards throwing insults at each other, their voices gradually getting louder, but I wasn’t interested in their quarrel. I was here for the King, and I had lost him. Now I wouldn’t know if he was headed back to the Castle or off to doing something unlawful again.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts and energy to head back to the slums, to my pathetic excuse of a hut. The air was chilly again, and I was thankful for the thick gown Prince Choi had sent me three days ago, a small note saying to ‘dress up well, it’s getting colder day by day’ placed on top of the heavy garment. I was thankful, and more than grateful for the gift sent by the Prince. I had nothing to repay him with, but perhaps getting rid of the King was the biggest treasure I could offer to the Prince right now.

I was headed down the short alleyway I had just followed Song Mingi down, meaning to go back onto the main street and then head back home. However, before I could even round the corner fully, gloved fingers curled into the fabric of my expensive gown and yanked me around the corner, throwing me against the bricked wall. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of my lungs, head hitting the wall loudly, making me groan as it shook my skull. As I tried to regain my bearings, I felt the gloved hand slip up towards my throat, long fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing. I froze, left hand shooting up to hold onto my attacker’s wrist as my eyes finally cleared and were able to focus on the one holding me. And it was none other than Jeong Yunho, the King himself. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were mere slits as he glared down at me, towering over me due to his great height. The pressure around my neck grew stronger and I gasped for air, eyes widening just a little, trying to control the panic raising in my whole being. Being immobilised by the King felt too familiar, I couldn’t help but respond with panic as memories of the day I had been marked by him tried to resurface, remind me of the pain I had felt under his hands.

“What do you want?” The King hissed, lowering his head until he was eye level with me. I tried to gulp, but it was hard. My grip tightened around the King’s wrist, nails digging into his leather glove. I didn’t answer him, and even if I would’ve tried to, the way his hold was tightening stopped me from doing so.

“Who are you, peasant?” The King snapped and leaned even closer; eyebrows furrowed as his eyes travelled all over my face. He wasn’t able to see much of my features, but I knew he could see my eyes just well, and so I glared at him. My heart was racing and I tried to push his hand off, but it only made him squeeze tighter. My lungs started burning, the King was slowly choking me, antagonizing me even now.

“Speak up, wench.” It seemed he had realized I was a woman, disgust coating his features as his hot breath fanned over my cheeks. I grit my teeth and tried to push the King backwards, but he wasn’t budging. Dark sports started covering my vision, and I tried not to gasp for air, refusing to show weakness in front of him again. But as his right hand raised, the sharp edges of his ornaments grazing against the little exposed skin I had, I knew I had to do something. His ring clad fingers gripped at the shawl and my eyes widened more as I realized he was about to yank it off my face. I couldn’t let him see me; it would compromise the whole mission. In my panicked state, I did the next best thing I could that came to mind. I turned my head and bit his exposed right hand, biting through the material of my shawl. It probably wasn’t as painful as it would have been if my shawl wasn’t in the way of my teeth, but the King still hissed and ripped his right hand back, looking surprised. It allowed me little momentum to shake his grip off my neck too as it had loosened, and I lived with the opportunity, grabbing his arm and yanking it off myself. Before the King could fight back, I sprung forward and pushed at his strong chest, making him stumble back a few steps as he didn’t expect my attack.

“Who sent you, little dove?” He leered, eyes ablaze as a smirk slowly slipped onto his lips, looking like he had no intention of holding me again. Yet, he took two steps towards me, watching me like a predator watches its prey. I gulped, suddenly feeling helpless, just like the day I had been held down against the marble table, marked and maimed. I felt like that little girl again as my hands started shaking and mind got clouded with memories, making it harder to breathe through the shawl. The pain I had felt that day suddenly felt too vivid, too real, as my right hand burned, the Crown’s emblem forever burned in my skin. All the King had to do was yank my glove down and see for himself. He would’ve taken me back to the Castle and killed me, or worse, tortured me until he became bored of me.

“If you don’t speak now, I’ll kill you.” The King said in a light tone, smile spreading into a wide grin as his eyes glossed over with darkness. I gulped and steeled my nerves, reminding myself that I wasn’t that defenceless little girl anymore. I wouldn’t sit around and mop as I wait for Death to take me away. I have become stronger, both physically and mentally, and I had a mission. A mission which placed the fate of the Kingdom of the Fallen in my hands.

“You’ll kill me even if I speak.” I hissed, glaring at the King as he started laughing. There was nothing amusing about what I said, it was the mere truth. And as he extended his ring decorated hand towards my face again, I pulled my right arm back and swung it towards the King’s cheek with all the force I could muster. I was breathing hard as my gloved hand made contact with the King’s cheek, and I’ve never felt anymore more satisfying than having the King’s head snap to the side as my fist connected with his red tinged cheek. The night was quiet and my punch was loud. My heart was racing as a huge grin spread onto my lips, a grin the King couldn’t see and wouldn’t see as I suddenly took off, sprinting away. I was fast, but I knew they would catch up with me sooner than later, so, upon spotting vines coming down the side of a smaller cottage, I gripped onto them and climbed the wall as fast as I could. My heart was racing as I took off running again, hopping from roof to roof, praying that it wouldn’t give out underneath me as some felt a little too loose. I was also praying that the roof tiles wouldn’t slip underneath my weight, sending me tumbling to the cold and dirty ground.

I could hear the King and his two loyal guards chase after me, but it seemed like neither could climb onto the cottages, offering me the little advantage I needed to get away tonight. And knowing that I managed to instill even a little pain in the King would help me sleep better tonight.

            Tonight had to have been the most nerve wrecking night of my whole life as I walked past the tall guards at the heavy front doors of the Castle. The air was warm as I stepped further inside the vast hallway, scenery way too familiar. I tried to remain calm and collected as a butler stepped closer, an inviting and warm smile on his lips, as he helped me slip out of my expensive fur coat. The dark brown fabric reached down to my ankles, shielding me completely from the biting chill the late autumn wind brought with itself. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest anytime now as I clutched the white envelope tightly in my hands, the stamp of the Crown a blood red, asking for attention against the snow-white paper. I forced a small smile onto my lips as I followed the crowd towards the ballroom, gut twisting as we were ushered past the Throne Room, a room that had witnessed so much horror ever since Jeong Yunho had become King.

Despite completely fitting in with the rich crowd surrounding me, curtesy of Prince Choi, I still felt like everyone could spot that I didn’t actually belong here. The fabric of my white dress was soft against my pale skin, the best I had ever had the chance to wear, and it fell loosely around my body. There wasn’t anything too eye catching or special about the dress Prince Choi had sent for this specific occasion, and that was the purpose. I was supposed to blend in with the rich crowd and lure the King away from the masses, where I would make sure he’d never again see tomorrow’s sunrise. It wasn’t an easy task, but tonight was the perfect timing. There wouldn’t be another one like this anytime soon as these balls were organized on full moon’s only by the King, whispers about a ritual practiced by him resurfacing every time the ball took place.

The top of my dress was low-cut and it made me feel uncomfortable for exposing so much of my skin, the tops of my breasts quite visible to anyone who looked my way, the slit in the ruffles of the skirt at least decent enough that it didn’t reach too high. The straps around my shoulders were puffy but delicate, the prettiest V line I had seen a dress have so far. Thankfully, the design of the expensive dress allowed to match gloves with it, and so, I was delighted when I saw the matching white silky gloves placed at the bottom of the box this dress had arrived in. The gloves were delicate and soft, a little cold when I have tried them on, and reached just above my elbows, the rest of my arms exposed. It was warm inside the ballroom; therefore, I didn’t worry that I would catch a cold accidentally. I have smoothed down my hair, the long curls reaching down the middle of my back, and kept it minimal when applying a little beauty enhancer to my face. The blush on my cheeks was artificial and so was the glitter on top of my eyelids, and the redness of my lips. I couldn’t do much about my pale complexion, and could only hope that the rich people wouldn’t think that I looked sick. The goal was to catch the King’s eye tonight.

When I had finally reached the top of the stairs that would lead down to the ballroom, further inside the lively chamber, a man dressed elegantly smiled widely and extended his hand towards me. I could only hope he wouldn’t pay enough attention to notice the nervousness on my face as I handed the envelope to him, watching as he delicately opened it. Inside it, there was a letter addressed to a respective Bae Joohyun, who happened to be fourth cousins with the King and the Prince. I found the idea crazy, to come to such an event under the pretence of being someone else and someone so close to the Royal family, but Prince San had assured me that they hadn’t seen their little cousin since they were five, and so, the King wouldn’t know what she looked like now. The pretence was perfect in the Prince’s head as he said my looks fit exactly that of their cousin: pale, petite, black haired, and dark eyed. Apparently, she was beautiful beyond comprehension, and I oozed a tenderness their cousin also had. I didn’t dare refute the Prince’s claims and just thanked him for helping me out once again. After all, if he wanted my mission to be a success, he had to play his part from the shadows.

“Miss Bae Joohyun, first of her name, eldest princess and head huntress of the burgh of La Rouge.” The man announced loudly to the ballroom as he read off my fake title from the invitation, and I tried to keep an amicable smile on my lips as a servant quickly rushed to my side, helping me down the marble set of stairs. It felt like everyone was staring at me in the room, which they were, and I tried to slow my heartbeat with deeps breaths in order to keep myself from fainting. I couldn’t even blame it on the restricting dress as I didn’t wear a corset, unlike many of the ladies present here tonight. It made me feel out of place, but trusting Prince San’s words, the actual Bae Joohyun wouldn’t have shown up in a restricting and puffed-up dress. She was a free spirit and often times went against the rules in order to live her life the way she wanted. Her parents weren’t too keen of her attitude and the choices she had made so far in her life, but they’d rather keep her close and not her younger sister, who apparently was a rascal and everyone’s nightmare in the burgh of La Rouge. The burgh resided on the other side of the Kingdom of the Fallen and was a lot more lenient compared to Aurora, that is, until King Jeong manages to expand his believes that far out, poisoning the innocent people of La Rouge, like he had done to us in Aurora.

And just like that, the night seemed to go on uneventfully, besides the unwanted attention men, and women alike, seemed to offer me. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s company, but I knew if I kept to myself, hidden in a corner, I would get nothing done tonight, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to raise attention onto myself if I wanted the King to find me appealing, and that was only achievable if I was surrounded by men who made me laugh loudly, even if it was forced often times. I had managed to come closer to the King more than once, but so it seemed he was too busy staring down the cleavage of the dress of whatever lady he had been talking to at the moment, clearly uninterested in whatever they had to say. His loyal dogs were around too, of course, both dressed to the nines as they surveyed the crowd, mingling with the people at times. Song Mingi remained close to the King, however, but wasn’t breathing down his neck like usual, his outfit a lot more casual than one was used to seeing him wear. His body was littered with accessories, and I accidentally had caught sight of the redhead ripping the silver chain off as it hung around the man’s narrow waist over the tight vest Song Mingi was wearing. A heated exchange between the two seemed to happen afterwards, with the taller guard backing the redhead against a pillar, sneering into her face, until the King showed up and merely tapped the two on the shoulder before walking away, beaming at a blonde woman with a dark look in his eyes.

The longer I watched the King, the angrier I became that nobody could see through his obvious façade, of the fakeness in his laughter and smiles, that they couldn’t see his eyes darkening and a sick twist crossing his features any time someone said something he didn’t enjoy. Everyone remained oblivious to his so obvious show of dominance whenever a man managed to capture the attention of those around themselves. It was pathetic really, how badly the King needed to have all the attention in the big room on himself, yearning for the praises and ass-licking these rich people were doing. It was sickening and so infuriating as I watched him throw his head back in delight, laughter melodic but loud enough to have others glancing his way, flocking towards the small group, because it was the King. And if the King found something hilarious and worth his time, everyone else wanted to know what it was about, striving to capture his attention like that. My jaw was clenched as I watched another woman wander towards him, looking abashed when the King so much as glanced her way in passing, batting her eyelashes at him. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of wanting the King’s attention purposefully, not when so much blood lay on his hands, so much terror and horror committed under his reign, under his command.

I nursed a tall glass of champagne in my hands as I surveyed the crowd, searching for Song Mingi and the redhead, finding them in different parts of the ballroom, both seemingly busy with the people they were respectively talking to. The King, however, happened to be closer to me as he was talking to two gentlemen, face impassive as he only hummed and nodded at whatever they were saying. For a second, he glanced ahead, and our eyes connected. My breath hitched and I fought every fibre in my body wanting to look away, knowing that the King liked a good chase and a little provocation. If I looked away, I would admit defeat, and he didn’t like women who weren’t a little fiery, harder to break. The thought made me sick but I quickly disregarded it and hid my fake smile as I took the smallest sip I could of my champagne, knowing that my plan was working as the King’s eyes bore into mine, narrowing. It wasn’t the first time our eyes accidentally met during the night, and I was completely convinced that his curiosity was growing the more I seemed to be teasing him. Always around, yet never approaching him. Always around, yet never actively asking for his attention. I could see his fierce eyes on me every time I laughed a little too loudly, or anytime I playfully touched a gentleman’s bicep for a second too long. The King might’ve thought I wasn’t looking, but I was. And my plan was working just perfectly. The mission would finally turn out to be a success tonight.

“Miss Bae,” My attention was ripped away from the King as a moderately tall man stopped in front of me, lips heart shaped, and kind eyes sharper rather than rounder. The man’s voice was rather deep, yet soft, and he looked almost a little shy, “I did not know you would be attending tonight’s ball.”

I plastered on a soft smile and tried to act like I knew the man in front of me. Prince San didn’t really tell me who I was supposed to know tonight, and so I had to be creative when catching other people’s names, “It came as a surprise to me as well.”

The man chuckled as he covered his mouth with a soft looking hand, eyes glinting in amusement. He didn’t look like he had dubious reasons for talking to me, unlike many other men so far tonight, and his eyes had not even once fallen onto my cleavage, “Did your father send you in hopes of finding a suitor?”

“Perhaps that was the reason,” I mussed as I took a sip of my champagne, aware of the King’s eyes on me as I continued talking to the kind man, “it seems like he won’t accept the fact that I do not wish to marry.”

“Perhaps you haven’t met the right man yet.” Ah, the likeableness of this man just plummeted as my eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed alarmed as he realized what he had said, “Oh! I was not suggesting that you should marry or anything else, Miss Bae! It is completely alright to not want to marry, I do not wish to marry either.”

“Lovely,” I hummed, not interested in the conversation anymore. The King was moving away and I had to remain close to him, “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”

“Do Kyungsoo, Miss Bae, I see the passing of the years made you forget about me.” I gulped, nervous all of a sudden as Mr. Do chuckled. I had no idea who he was, but I was sure the real Bae Joohyun would know. So, I chuckled abashed, looking down in fake embarrassment.

“My apologies, I haven’t been to Aurora in so long…” Mr. Do nodded in understanding, downing the rest of his champagne in one go.

“Then I must leave you alone to mingle some more, right?” He sounded slightly disappointed, and I couldn’t help but think that the bond between Miss Bae and Mr. Do once had ran deeper than it seemed. I cleared my throat and excused myself with a bow of my head, looking for the King. The crowd was large and as the music had gotten louder, a dance floor had formed in the middle of the big room. Everyone was loud as more champagne and expensive wine was consumed, both men and women getting bolder and handsy with each other. I tried not to see the disappearing couples behind pillars and curtains as I walked past them, quiet moans or groans alarming to hear. I was no prude, but doing anything like that just felt wrong in a place like this. Besides, I wouldn’t have dared doing anything relatively inadequate in the house of the King, under his watchful eyes.

“Miss Bae.” I jumped as the velvety voice whispered in my ear, almost making me punch their gut as I whirled around, “You’ve been alone ever since I have left your side.”

Mr. Byun wasn’t exactly the man I wished to be around right now; eyes hazed over as his breath reeked of alcohol. He had set his eyes on me the second the servant had announced my name and title, lurking around me after presenting himself and talking to me.

“You are quite wrong,” I chuckled, trying not to glare at him as he reached out a hand and twirled a dark strand of my hair between his fingers, “I have been talking to others too, Mr. Byun.”

“None as promising and handsome as myself, right?” The man smirked, overly sure of himself, making my jaw clench as I forced a chuckle to leave my lips. All this unwanted attention certainly hadn’t been part of my plan, I thought nobody would give me even as much as a second glance, busy with others, with people they already knew. All these men were making this experience even less pleasant, as if being in the lion’s den was pleasant in the first place.

“What a confident man,” I smiled widely, placing my empty glass on a tray as a servant walked by us, “I bet the ladies love being around you, Mr. Byun.”

“Hopefully you are one of those ladies yourself, Miss Bae.” Mr. Byun winked and suddenly bowed, extending a hand towards me, “Would you offer me your first dance of the night, love?”

No, I would not like to offer you my first dance of the night, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t refuse a dance, whether I liked the idea or not. I had started thinking that my plan had been flawed from the very beginning and that I wouldn’t succeed in fulfilling my mission, that is, until I felt a gloved hand sneaking around my waist, firmly yanking me into the side of a body. My eyes widened as I gasped at the sudden feeling, head snapping up, dread filling my whole being. The King was glaring down at Mr. Byun as his hold tightened around my waist, and I almost flung myself out of his grip, skin burning through the fabric where the King had touched me. Despite my goal being exactly this, to find myself in the arms of the King, it felt wrong. Very wrong. I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I steeled my nerves and hushed the thoughts that were screaming to run far away from the tyrant, and managed to ease a soft smile on my lips.

“Mr. Byun,” The King grinned, however it didn’t reach his dark eyes, “already drunk and close to passing out? It’s been only two hours since the ball started, you fool.”

Mr. Byun’s jaw clenched, but he had no choice but to bow his head in respect, “My apologies, Your Grace, I might have gotten carried away.”

“Most certainly if you thought you could dance with such beautiful maiden.” It was my turn to clench my jaw at the King’s insinuation, but I willed my heartrate to calm down and muscles to relax as the King’s dark gaze was directed onto me now, “Shall we dance, gorgeous?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” I bowed my head and forced a timid smile onto my lips as the King’s ring, claw, decorated hand found my waist too, grip firm as he veered me in front of himself and made us walk towards the dance floor. My back straightened as I tried to calm down and not tense up when the King’s hands squeezed my waist just a little bit more, narrowly avoiding a couple as they were dancing around a little too wildly for the King’s liking as he leered at them. I closed my eyes when I felt ourselves stop in the middle of the dance floor, and took a deep breath. I could do this, for the future of the Fallen of the Kingdom, for our nation, and for Prince Choi San. I could do this, and I would do this.

When I blinked my eyes open, the King was stood in front of me, a dangerous smirk on his plush red lips, staring down with hunger in his eyes as they racked down my body. I gulped and gasped when I was forcefully yanked against his broad and strong body, ring decorated hand curling into my hips as his gloved hand took mine in his, holding it a lot gentler than I expected him to. As I looked up, making eye contact with the King, he took a step forward, slowly easing us into a waltz that matched the pace of the orchestra and of those dancing around us too.

The King wore fine garments, moulded for his body, almost like a second layer for his venomous skin. His black trousers with fine white stripes clung to his long legs perfectly, enunciating his proportions even more as they were tucked into shiny tall boots that reached just bellow the King’s knees. The brown belt was hidden by the black vest clinging onto his upper body, the same fabric of his trousers seemingly sewn together with the vest’s fabric on his left shoulder and the lower right side of it. However, the back of the vest was completely different, a white fabric with black swirls on it. A black necktie was tucked underneath the King’s vest, a fine necklace with beads and a silver cross sitting on top of it, with a matching rosary hanging on top of his vest and necktie altogether. There was nothing holy about the King, it was a mere display of mockery in the Lord’s name that even such dark creature could wear and touch something so holy. The white shirt’s right sleeve was rolled up to the King’s elbows, bracelets that matched his rosary hanging snugly against his thin wrist, his metal rings, claws, eye-catching and on display for everyone to see. The left sleeve of his white shirt was tucked underneath his black leather gloves, crunching quietly as the King’s fingers tightened around mine. I tried to remain calm as the prolonged eye contact put me on edge, and I fought to stay confident and repress all the nightmarish memories of the King.

“It’s been a while, cousin.” I couldn’t completely read the expression on the King’s face, and so I only gulped. Words seemed to have escaped me, and it only made my stomach clench more when the King’s eyes fell onto my cleavage again, all too aware of how exposed I was. But it was on purpose, Prince San knew the King’s vices, and he was using it to our advantage when he had gifted this dress to me, “I don’t remember you being this quiet, Joohyun, dear.”

I gulped and scoffed, irritation not so fake anymore, “People change, Your Grace, and I have too.”

“Did your daddy tell you to behave well tonight?” His question didn’t sit well with me, especially the tone he had said it with, but I just ignored it as I rolled my eyes at the King, “Did he think you’d be rewarded for it?”

My face flushed at the implication, and it took me everything to not rip myself away from the King right then and there as I felt the sharp ends of his ornaments dig into my skin through the thin fabric of my white dress, “I’m not looking for anything, Yunho, I’m merely here to socialize, see what my cousin is up to lately.”

“I’m doing just fine, dear, as you can see.” The King chuckled, and I felt him pulling me flushed against himself, making my heartbeat quicken as I had to crane my neck to look up at him, “The Kingdom is flourishing and Aurora is doing better than it had been under King Choi’s regiment.”

“You’ve certainly brought some changes to it, Your Grace.” I couldn’t contain the snarl in my tone as I averted my eyes, staring at the rosary instead while the King just chuckled. There was nothing hilarious about what I had said, but of course, it would’ve been alarming if the King thought the way he ruled wasn’t right, “Do you plan on ruining the Kingdom of the Fallen even more?”

The King’s eyes hardened as I looked back up in his eyes, jaw clenching as I felt his right hand slowly slip lower, pressing flat against the small of my back. The action made goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I tried not to shudder as the King merely smirked, no doubt noticing my reaction to his undesired touch.

“I see your passion for the wellbeing of my Kingdom hasn’t changed, dear Joohyun.” The King smiled, but it was far from genuine, he looked irritated, “Why don’t you become Queen and mould it to your own likes?”

“Is that what you are doing right now?” I cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, “Playing with your people as if you were playing chess? What’s next, a war against the Kingdom of Light? You know their Queen can’t wait to destroy you, Yunho.”

“How saddening she’ll never get the chance to do so.” The glint in the King’s eyes was scary, they held a secret so dark I probably didn’t want to know, but I was curious. He was planning something, something dangerous and big, and I needed to find out what. But that would take time, and if I managed to kill him tonight, that dark secret of his would die with him.

“Indeed,” I chuckled and tried to ignore the way the King’s hand slipped further down, fingers barely brushing against my ass. Why was he doing this? He surely could’ve found other ladies that weren’t related to him, since he was under the impression that I was his cousin, even if not a close relative, still blood-related to him, “I see your goons never leave your side, Your Grace.”

The King’s head fell backwards as he laughed, chest shaking with the motion, the first genuine reaction I had ever seen on him. It stunned me, but I tried not to gape. I glanced to the side, unsurprised as I found Song Mingi staring daggers our way, twirling a knife in his hands. The redhead was dancing, but her eyes were solely fixed on the King as well, probably deaf to whatever the man holding her was saying to her.

“My goons, are my most loyal guards, dear, of course they never leave my side.” The King finally seemed to get over my words as he had stopped laughing and was instead grinning, glancing to the side like I had done so. His eyes softened for a second as they fell on Song Mingi, and then his cold exterior was back on as his eyes fell down on me, “It’s their duty, after all.”

“It looks like a little bit more than just duty, Your Grace.” I smirked, heart stilling when I felt the King unashamedly squeeze my ass. I jumped and tried not to sputter as he flushed me fully against himself, a sickening smirk pulling at his lips.

“Perhaps it is more than just duty.” The King whispered, winking as he lowered his head just a little bit, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. I tensed, eyes wide as I continued staring at him slightly frightened, “You smell like fresh roses, so sweet.”

I tried not to show how disgusted I felt, and instead chuckled lightly, “Thank you, Your Grace. Tell me a little secret…do your loyal dogs follow you everywhere?”

The King quirked an eyebrow, prompting me to continue as his clawed fingers pressed a little harsher into my clothed ass, “Or do your guards offer you privacy when times call for desperate measures?”

The King chuckled, leaning down so that he’d be able to whisper in my ear. I tried to remain relaxed as his hot lips brushed against my ear, tone low and words dripping with allure, “They know when not to follow, dear, would you like to see for yourself?”

As the King pulled back, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes dropped to my cleavage again, I knew this was it. I wouldn’t get a better chance where the King and I were alone, “Since you offered so nicely, My King.”

The King’s eyes darkened significantly as he released his bottom lip and licked his lips, nodding once. Before I could change my mind about what I had agreed to and flee, the King took a step back and released my body, however still kept a firm grip on our intertwined fingers, our gloves a clash of colours against each other. The crowd seemed to part as the King walked through it, curious eyes watching closely as I followed after the King, struggling to keep up with his long strides, but he wouldn’t slow down for me. I gripped the skirt of my dress and raised it above my ankles in order to not trip, paying close attention to my surroundings for when I needed to escape. It wouldn’t be easy as we were on the third floor and all windows seemed to be locked in the long corridor, and I could only hope I would find a hidden door that would lead through a passageway, helping me escape once I had killed the King.

I didn’t expect us to stop so soon, and so I ran into the back of the King, making him chuckle. He wordlessly pushed the door open for us, and allowed me to walk in first, releasing my hand. I took a deep breath before I stepped through the threshold and tried not to gape at the size of the library I had just stepped foot inside. The walls were covered in nothing but endless shelves of books upon books, a room that had two floors, ladders pressed up against the tall bookshelves for when you needed something from a higher shelf. The room was beautiful, and something vexing like jealousy plunged deep in my gut, jealousy that the King had all of this beauty at his feet while others had to suffer out in the cold streets, begging for a shilling as nobody had much money to pay up. But before I could marvel at the beauty of the library even more, I felt myself yanked backwards. The wind was knocked out of my lungs as my back collided against the sturdy bookshelves, and I panicked thinking that my identity had been discovered, that the King finally had enough of me. I was ready to fight him, grab my hidden dagger and stab him in the heart, fight and flee afterwards, but what I didn’t expecting was to feel his blood-red lips pressing against mine. I froze, eyes wide in awestruck as the King’s lips were warmer than I thought they would be, and really soft. It was a crime that somebody like him had lips like that. Out of distress, I grabbed his biceps and went to push the King away, but I realized that would be a mistake. How else could I distract him if not like this? He’d have his guard down, offering me the perfect chance to stab him. And so, I swallowed the disgust bubbling up my throat and forced my eyes to close as my fingers dug into the King’s skin through the soft fabric of his white shirt.

His right hand grabbed my jaw to tilt my head up, making it easier for him to continue leaning down to kiss me, his rings not quite digging into my skin, but dangerously close to doing so. My heart was racing as the King’s lips started moving against mine, not soft at all, not careful nor patient as I forced myself to reciprocate it. It was hard, every fibre in my body was screaming at me to stop this, that I could distract him somehow else, but a more logical side of me knew that I just couldn’t. I was doing this for Aurora, for the Kingdom of the Fallen, and so I relaxed against the King’s strong body and forced my thoughts to silence. My arms raised and I wrapped them around the King’s shoulders, pressing up on my tip toes to kiss him better, opening my mouth for his lips to fit better against mine. The King didn’t waste time as his tongue slipped past my lips and lapped at my mouth furiously, a moan slipping past my lips as I fisted the black strands of hair sitting neatly on his nape. The King seemed to enjoy that as his claws suddenly dug into my skin, making me whine as his tongue brushed against mine, licking at it in a way I didn’t know was possible, my knees weakening involuntarily as the King’s body pinned me against the bookshelf, immobilising me, caging me between himself and the bookshelves. It was a little scary, but I didn’t dwell on it as the King sucked on my tongue, completely dirty and nothing like I have experienced before, my cheeks flaring as I felt his gloved hand settle at the base of my throat. My heart picked up thinking that he would try and choke me, rob me of my already waning air, but instead, it slowly slipped towards my breasts, cupping my right one harshly. I moaned and chased after his mouth as he pulled slightly back, slotting my upper lip between his, suckling on his bottom one as the King started massaging my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, groaning loudly into my mouth.

It was starting to get hot around me, our actions affecting my body in ways it long hadn’t been affected like, the touches of the King igniting a dormant fire deep in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t fair that he could elicit such a reaction out of me, not when I bore nothing but hatred towards him. It wasn’t fair that I had to go out of my way to do something I didn’t wish to do in order to get rid of the tyrant, and it only fuelled the fire in my veins as I latched onto the King’s lips furiously, setting a pace that was bruising to our already swollen lips. Low groans slipped past the King’s lips as our noses kept knocking against each other, his right hand leaving my face as it went behind my body, grasping my ass painfully. I gasped and tried not to recoil when the King suddenly licked at my bottom lip, humming lowly in the back of his throat as he flushed our lower bodies together, rutting into me. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I refused to open my eyes, scared that I would run away if we made eye contact. The King groaned as he massaged my flesh through my dress, and the hand still squeezing my breast finally disappeared and grabbed onto the other cheek of my ass before it slowly slipped back onto my lower back, fisting my dress. My chest was rising and falling quickly, and I tried to regulate my breaths and clear my mind, assess the situation in order to be able to proceed. But suddenly, I felt cold metal pressing into my skin, grabbing my jaw firmly.

“Open your eyes, little dove.” My heart did a somersault and I froze, thoughts running a million per hour, panicking. Had he finally realized who I really was? I felt teeth sinking into my bottom lip painfully and I whined as my eyes snapped open, freezing as the King’s dark eyes were right in front of mine. His neck, ears, and cheeks were flushed red, lips swollen and glistening with saliva. His pupils were dilated and he smirked as he massaged the small of my back, suddenly his thumb swiping across my lower lip. I couldn’t look away, it felt like he had bewitched me, locked me into place as I struggled to fill my lungs to the brim with air. I was scared, waiting for the predator’s next move, trying to anticipate what he’d do next. But I certainly didn’t think he’d slip the sharp metal ring inside my mouth, forefinger pressing against my tongue, “Suck.”

I gulped and maintained eye contact with the King as I licked his finger, trying to ignore the animalistic look on his face as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked on his ornament decorated finger slowly, swirling my tongue around it. The King leaned closer, lips hovering dangerously close to mine, brushing against his own knuckles. The King was panting hard as he slipped his middle finger too inside my mouth, and I tried to remain calm as I became aware of the ache in my right hand, the mark he had given me three years ago suddenly burning as if it were freshly made. I wouldn’t be able to handle this for much longer, gut twisting in sickness, yet my body was pressing harder against the King’s, aware of the neediness that had suddenly overcome it. I pushed my tongue between the King’s two fingers and sucked on them, making the King’s jaw clench until he suddenly pulled them out of my mouth, making saliva drip down my chin. I was embarrassed and my cheeks burned as he grabbed my left thigh, lifting it up and around his hips, pressing his body into mine, the hardness all too obvious in his trousers as he rubbed himself against me. My breath hitched in my throat at the friction, the King’s eyes glossed over as he released my thigh once he was sure I’d keep it there. My fingers tangled tighter into his locks as he allowed his metal decorated fingers to travel up my exposed thigh due to the slit in the skirt, only stopping when it reached my clothed core. I tried to stop the whimper from escaping my lips as I bit down on my bottom one, completely at the King’s mercy as he started rubbing small circles against my clothed clit, embarrassed of how reactive I was to his ministrations. I was aching, clenching around nothing, but I forced myself to stay level-headed as I fisted the collar of the King’s shirt and yanked him down, pressing our lips together once more, forcefully. I locked his hips against mine with my left leg and rolled my hip against the King’s hand, whining as he kept the slow, antagonizing, pace. I made sure he was busy with working me further up as I slowly slipped my left hand out of his hair, down his shoulders, stopping at his narrow waist to squeeze before I carefully removed it from his body, leaning a little forward and into the King in order to reach the top of my white boot.

My dagger was hidden just inside of it, the cold blade pressing against my shin all night long, waiting for this exact moment. I could feel the triumph in my bloodstream as I gripped the handle of the blade, moaning as the King cupped my clothed core, but stopped his ministrations altogether. I didn’t stop kissing him, however, as I raised my dagger high, ready to plunge it deep into the King’s back. But before I could even as much as move my arm, suddenly, my head was slammed to the side, making me hiss loudly at the dull ache in my jaw as it crashed into the bookshelf painfully, my left arm pinned to the bookshelf above myself. I froze, blood turning ice cold as I was afraid to even as much as breathe despite my lungs heaving for air. The King’s nose suddenly was pressing into my left cheek, his sweaty forehead resting against my temple as his breathing was loud and shallow. I didn’t dare move, frozen to the spot. I had been discovered, and now I would die. I would fail Prince San and bring shame to my name. I was nothing but a failure, soon about to meet my brother in Eden.

“Bae Joohyun, you say,” The King chuckled, sounding actually amused, “I didn’t know my own cousin hated me so much she wanted to kill me herself?”

I took quiet breaths, but didn’t speak up. It seemed like the King still had something to say, I didn’t dare interrupt his monologue, “I didn’t think your unrelenting support could turn into hatred in two weeks, cousin.”

Ah, so this is where Prince San had made a mistake. Bae Joohyun and Jeong Yunho had been in contact all this time, and apparently, she was on his side. Prince San should’ve known better, but so should have I. I should’ve trusted my gut feeling this time, and I didn’t, and now I would suffer the consequences. Because darkness always prevailed, no matter how much the good and kind fought for its disappearance.

“People change.” I managed to mutter, right side of my face digging painfully into the shelf. I wasn’t panting anymore, but my frantic heartbeat made it hard to actually breathe, and so I was still struggling to calm down.

“Not you, little dove.” The King whispered, and suddenly I felt lips pressing against my ear, making me jerk. The King was frighteningly strong, and I finally started pushing against him, trying to free myself, but it was futile…as always, “Stop fighting against me, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

“Burn in hell, Jeong Yunho.” I hissed, trying to look at him from the corner of my eyes. The King chuckled, trailing kisses from my temple down to my jaw. I tried to push him off again, but it did nothing.

“Still trying to curse me,” The King muttered, nuzzling his nose against my cheek again, “I suppose you didn’t change, my little dove. Did you think I’d forget? Was it worth that apple?”

My eyes widened to the point of falling out as the King suddenly released me, my head snapping forward as my heartbeat stilled. I went to throw a punch at his jaw, but he completely took me off guard as he grabbed my right thigh too and hiked me up, pressing me into the bookshelf again as he pinned my wrists above my head, the dagger clattering to the floor from my grip. Out of reflex, my legs wrapped around his hips tighter, knowing that I would slip down despite the force the King was pinning me down with.

“You killed my brother.” Was all I managed to whisper, eyes filling with tears. The King shushed me and leaned his head close, his soft features scary all of a sudden as his blank mask slipped back on.

“You killed your brother by stealing that apple and getting caught for it.” The King whispered, eyebrows furrowing, “If you wouldn’t have put up such a fight, I wouldn’t have thrown you in the dungeon, in fact, I would’ve allowed you to take the leftovers from the kitchen for your brother—”

“Screw you!” I screamed, fury lacing every part of my being, heart hammering in my ribcage, “Curse you! Burn in hell for everything you’ve done! You dare mock me to my face about my brother?! I promise you I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sunrise!”

“Bold words coming from such a frail dove like yourself,” The King mocked, pouting as my body started trembling, “I could behead you right in the middle of the ballroom, my little dove.”

I didn’t care anymore what he did to me. He could kill me right here or right in front of an audience, I didn’t care anymore as long as I was free of this miserable life.

“Do it.” I gritted through my teeth, leaning into his face, lips ghosting against his, “Do it, you fucking coward. You could’ve easily killed me in the alleyway that night or in the square, even now, yet all you do is run your mouth with empty threats.”

I knew they weren’t empty threats, that the King would actually kill me in the following minutes, but I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I have seen all grey colours of his, I knew who he was, what he was capable of.

“If I had killed you, where would be the fun in that?” The King raised his eyebrows, pressing a light kiss against my lips, making me jerk my head back, “You think I don’t know my brother and his pathetic of excuse of a guard sent you to kill me? Little dove, if they wanted me dead so bad, why didn’t they come after me? Why did they send you?”

I froze, eyebrows furrowing as the King continued with a small amused smile, “They sent a poor girl that is desperate to avenge her brother’s death, a girl that is so weak she can’t even free herself right now, yet all I’m doing is pin you against a bookshelf, little dove. My brother, Prince San, and his pest, Jung Wooyoung, merely sent a weak and poor girl to kill a King that holds twice the strength she does just because they wanted to use you, because they knew you hated me strong enough to actually do what they asked of you. They knew you had nothing to lose anymore, and they know you do not care for your safety or life anymore, my little dove.”

I was stunned listening to the King’s words, slowly shaking my head no, refusing to accept such words. No, that is not why Prince San and Sir Jung had chosen me to eliminate the King, it couldn’t be. That’s not who those two were, and I would’ve been a fool if I succumbed to the King’s words, letting his poisonous words infect my brain with lies.

“No, you’re wrong, My King,” I whispered, eyes boring into his with such hatred that it ricochetted off my whole being, “Prince Choi and Sir Jung aren’t like you. And if I’m just a means to an end in their grand plan, I do not care as long as they manage to rid the Kingdom and this world of you, Jeong Yunho.”

The King hissed, obviously displeased by my retaliation, by my fervorous belief in the Prince and his Royal Guard, “I see you refuse to see the truth just yet, my little dove, so let me give you two options.”

My eyebrows furrowed as the King leaned so close his breath fanned over my face, dark and piercing eyes boring into mine, his cheeks still tinged red, “The very obvious first option is death, but I don’t feel like getting rid of you just yet, my little dove, therefore, I have a second option for you.”

He paused, a sick smirk twisting his lips to the side, making my stomach drop in dread, “You become my good little obedient spy, my ears and eyes in Aurora, and in return, I shall reward you with immunity.”

“No—” I was shaking my head before he could even finish what he was saying, but the King’s sneering face quickly made me shut up.

“I wasn’t finished talking, Y/N.” My breath hitched, he even knew my name, “You will go back this instant to the pathetic mansion those two idiots are hiding in, and tell them, that if they even as much as dare to think to send someone to assassinate me again, I will dismember Jung Wooyoung in front of Choi San after I dissect their whore of a maid, leaving my dear brother for last, publicly executing him in the square, calling all of the Kingdom of the Fallen together to witness the fall of the Crown Prince. Understood?”

My lips quivered as my eyes filled with tears, my voice merely above a whisper, “No, Your Grace, I won’t—”

“I’m not giving you an option, my little dove,” The King suddenly released my arms, which fell limply next to my body as the King cupped my left cheek with his sharp metal rings, “I’m giving you an order that you will execute.”

I tried to blink the tears away, recoiling when one slipped down my cheek and the King kissed it away, “And once you have delivered my message, I expect you back at the Castle, my little dove.”

My breath stuttered in my throat, wide eyes looking into the King’s dark ones. Suddenly, he bucked his hips and I gasped as I realised he was still as hard as mere minutes ago, making my heart race, “Because little doves like you deserve a reward, and you’ve been awfully pliant tonight, so I will fuck you senseless and teach you a lesson afterwards.”

My blood froze, the colour leaving my face as the King snickered, pressing a soft kiss against the bridge of my nose as he suddenly stepped back, gently placing me back down against the floor. I felt abused, thrown around and mauled, skin burning everywhere the King had touched. I was disgusted, and yet I knew I had no choice but to do as I was told. I belonged to him, and even if I ran, he would find me. I gulped as the King’s gloved fingers danced up my gloved arm, slowly slipping the silky fabric down my hand, making me shiver. I clenched my jaw and refused to look down as the King raised my hand, staring at the damaged skin in awe. His lips were parted and he took a deep breath, slowly leaning down and kissing the maimed skin he had caused with his own hands three years ago. I closed my eyes shut tightly, trying to fight the tears that threatened to escape.

“So beautiful,” The King whispered, hot lips brushing feather-light against the skin of my right hand, “Mine, little dove, you’re all mine. You always have been.”

I gulped as I looked at the King, jaw clenching as I yanked my hand out of his and quickly wore my glove, hiding the atrocious scar that he had caused. The King seemed to be in a trance as he stared at me, making my heartbeat quicken even more when he didn’t say anything.

I needed to leave, I felt like I was suffocating.

“My Mingi will meet you in the back gardens, my little dove, ready with a horse.” My blood ran cold, hands turning into fists as the King turned away from me, walking towards the massive oak desk he had in the middle of the library, “I expect you back in an hour, my little dove, and if you don’t come back, I will burn down everything in my way to find you. Understood?”

I grit my teeth, staring daggers into the back of his head, “Understood, Your Grace.”

And if finding a different way to kill the King would be the cause of my last breath, I would still do it. This wasn’t the end, he hadn’t won yet, because I would always remain on Prince Choi and Sir Jung’s side, always. In fact, the King had made is easier for us to find out all of his weak points, easier to stab him in the back when he least expects it.

If I had to dedicate my whole life to bring down such evil, I would do it over and over again, because in the end, goodness always wins.

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[sykostyles]

subject to change 1.1 (final)

w/c: 6.3k summary: in which Harry gets his head out of his ass and goes after y/n. but is he too late? part one

a/n: hi again! thank you all for the love on part one to this story! I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me! I hope you all enjoy this part just as much!

cw: PLEASE LOOK HERE BEFORE YOU READ! impact play, breath play if you squint, general rough sex, implied cheating (no actual cheating takes place), breeding kink, creampie, anal play (he puts his thumb in her ass lol), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up, besties) general manhandling. If I forgot anything pls let me know!

Harry did care. He cared a lot. But he knew you were angry and he let you go. It was the best option. At least that’s what he told himself. He would just live the rest of his life with this empty feeling in his chest. He’d live with the pain of constantly having to see your name when his customers would buy your books. He’d smile and continue to recommend your books to people looking for something ‘extra spicy’ as they’d put it. They’d always come back in a few days to get another one of your books.

He never did take your titles off of his Owner’s Picks shelf.

Sometimes Harry swore he could hear your giggles at the front of his store when he was helping a customer find something near the back. “Excuse me, just one second,” he’d mutter to the customer before hastily making his way up front to be met with nobody. He thought he was losing it. He knows he heard it. He wishes he’d heard it. He’d make his way back to the customer, breathing out some excuse and getting back to finding the book they were looking for.

You even haunted him in his dreams. He could feel the way your skin dipped and curved as he ran his hands over the sweat slicked skin. Feel the way your warm walls engulfed his length; sinking further and further under your spell. Hear the way you cried his honorific and begged him to let you cum; begged for more, Until the blaring of his alarm would snap him back to reality and he’d be left to take care of what dream you left behind.

It’d been six months of this constant brooding attitude he’d have whenever he thought of you. Harry hadn’t been able to sleep with anybody else. Just finding solace in fucking his fist, and wishing it was you. Oh but he tried though. A few women at the bar, or a pretty customer he thought looked like you. But they weren’t you, were they? He’d gotten drunk off of the way your body felt under his touch, and it’s like he’s been hungover ever since. Often he found himself looking at your social media, scrolling through all the pretty pictures you’d post. Pictures of your apartment, your cat, your family. Pictures with Chase? Who was Chase? Pictures with your friends. He’d take note of all the cities you’d been to since he saw you.

Oh, a new post.

You were apparently going to be about an hour away from him next week.

Interesting.

Every city you traveled to, there were more and more people waiting to meet you. You couldn’t believe it. Flattered doesn’t even begin to describe what you felt. So many stories of how you saved people's relationships after they read your books. Their sex lives with their partners had been so boring but after they’d read your books, they’d found new inspiration to spice things up. Every time someone told you a new story you were dumbfounded. Still finding it so hard to believe that anybody even found your books interesting, let alone liked them enough to take time out of their day to come and meet you and have you sign their book.

You’d tried to move on from Harry. A few casual hook ups, and a short term boyfriend, Chase, that lasted all of two and a half months. Said boyfriend looked at you like you had two heads when you asked him to choke you during sex so you weren’t sure why you thought it would last. 

You would find yourself daydreaming; frothing at the mouth thinking of all the dirty things Harry had done to you. You’d grip the front of your sink in the morning, head hanging near your chest while you thought about Harry’s cock splitting you open; his fingertips colliding with your cheek while he called you his dirty little slut, all while Chase was in the shower, a wave of guilt washing over you for imagining these things while your boyfriend was two feet away from you. Oh, how you wished you could experience those things again. 

You were right though, you’d gotten plenty of fuel for your next book. The follow up to Little Freak was scheduled to be released at the end of the year, just in time for holiday sales. Jenny was thrilled. You thought you would be. But you just felt empty. You always felt worse when you’d snap out of it, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance for yourself written all over your face.

“You look sick, babe. You alright?” Chase would ask, stepping out of the shower. “You look a little flushed,” The back of his hand coming in contact with your forehead. He was super sweet after all. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just warm in here from the steam,” you’d wave him off, pressing a kiss to his lips and offering him a smile.

Chase broke it off with you last week saying he couldn't give you what you wanted. You knew that, but didn't have the heart to break it to him first. He seemed a little fragile, if you know what I mean. So you pretended to be sad until he left your apartment and then you had a laugh before making a post announcing the next city for your signing tour.

Jenny booked you a hotel, even though the bookstore you were going to be at was only about an hour away. But riding back in the car for an hour sounded pretty awful so you didn’t put up a fight. 

The owner of this store was so excited for your event. She walked up and down the line thanking everyone for showing up, and reminded all of them of the snacks and refreshments she’d set out. She was a doll, continuously asking if you needed anything. Always giving you a smile and a “Just holler at me if you need anything, dear!”

About an hour in, a pair of eyes caught your attention. You’d know those eyes anywhere. He was about four people behind the person you were talking to. Standing there, book in hand with that sweet smile on his face. His eyes bore into yours. Your breath caught in your throat, your face turned pink and your hands immediately felt clammy. The person in front of you snaps you out of your trance and you direct your attention back to them, acting as if nothing happened. 

“This book literally brought life back to my relationship. We had no idea what we were missing out on!” She exclaimed, “My husband sends his thanks as well,” she giggles out.

“I’m so glad you guys enjoyed it. Hopefully you’ll like the next one too. Thank you so much for coming!” You hand the book back to her with a smile. She thanks you and is on her way. The next few people are the same. It never got old though; hearing how your books positively impacted others. Whether they found out they liked something they never heard of, or if it gave them the courage to spice up their love lives. 

Harry studied you as you interacted with your readers. How genuinely happy you looked to be talking to these people. The smile on your face that he’d only seen in his dreams over the last six months. The crinkle you got near your eyes when you laughed. That giggle. He was addicted. He needed to hear it every day. He’d do anything. That’s why he’s standing here right now in front of you with your book in his hand. 

“Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi,” you say back to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he hands the book over to you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Cut the crap, Harry. What are you doing here?” taking the book, you scrawl your signature on the cover page.

“Can we talk?” he looks at you with pleading eyes. You glance up at him, holding the book back out to him. 

“I don’t know, Harry,” looking away, you fumble with the permanent marker between your fingers. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please, sweets. Just wanna talk,” He smiles down at you. Meeting his eyes again, your gaze hardens. There’s no way he just wants to talk. You’re not totally stupid, but you’ll humor him.

“Fine. Just to talk,” you wave your hand in the air, “Just wait in the seating area.”

He smiles at you again. “Thank you.”

Walking into your hotel room with Harry in tow, you wonder just how stupid you are. What are you doing? Is this smart? Probably not. Do you care? Also probably not.

“What are you actually doing here, Harry,” you ask, sitting on the end of the bed to take your shoes off.

“Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” his voice was quiet and smooth, nothing like it was in the bookstore earlier. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets as he watches you.

“Not even a little bit,” you scoffed with a laugh, tossing your shoes to the side before leaning back on your hands.

“Well, it’s the truth.” His gaze remained unwavering. 

You were born at night, but not last night.

“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, “You’re going to stand there and tell me that you drove an hour just to see me?” 

“I missed you.” he breathes out. You just stare at him with widened eyes, and he stares right back. Emerald eyes, rather sunken and tired looking, just keep staring back at you.

“How dare you,” you stand from the edge of the bed, finger pointed into his chest. His eyes widen at your demeanor. “You don’t get to do that. You said this was a one time thing. You told me multiple times that it was a one time thing.” You continue walking towards him, him taking a step back with every forward step you take. “So, what exactly do you want, Harry? You came all the way here just to tell me you missed me? When was it you who put that rule in place?” His back hits your hotel room door. “Am i just a good fuck you can’t get out of your head or what?”

“N-no, you’re,” he pauses, “you’re everything. And I’m just an idiot who can’t talk about his feelings.”

“Please, you told me yourself that you don’t do ‘feelings’. So do me a favor and tell me what it is you really want.”

“I want you,” he says softly, looking at your lips. Not even an ounce of hesitation floods his system when he reaches out with both hands to cup your face, and finally presses his lips to yours for the first time. You gasp, but kiss him back anyways; Your hands finding a soft grip on his wrists. It’s everything. The way his soft lips perfectly mold with yours. All of the built up emotions he’d been shoving down the last half a year showed themselves in that kiss. He bore his soul to you in that kiss. His tongue swipes at your lower lip, but that’s when you pull away.

“No, Harry,” you rush out, “Y-you’re too late,” you pull his hands from your face, and start to turn away when he grabs ahold of your upper arm, spinning you back towards him.

“Oh, don’t give me that shit,” he bites out, tone no longer soft. “I saw the look on your face when you noticed I was there tonight.” 

“I-I have a boyfriend,” you lie, thinking you could use Chase as an escape route. Sure, he broke up with you about a week ago but Harry doesn’t need to know that. “You’re too late, Harry.” He studies you for a moment. The tremble in your upper lip from fighting off a grin. The telling glint in your eyes. The way you won’t look him in the eye.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible liar?” Both of his hands grip your arms as he slowly walks you backwards.

“I’m n-not lying. I have a boyfriend. His name is Chase.” You almost stumble over your own feet, but his grip on your arms keeps you standing. Ah, Chase.

“Right,” he mocks you, “and does ‘Chase’ make you tremble and break like I did?” He leans down near your ear. “Does he make you beg and cry for it like I did? Does he make you cum so hard you see stars like I did? Hm?” His warm breath tickles the skin of your throat. Harry sweeps your hair away from your neck before latching his teeth onto your pulse point, making you gasp. You feel your legs bump against the edge of the bed, your fists take hold of his sweater to keep you standing.

“Harry, I can’t,” you groan. You want to; more than anything, but you won’t give him the satisfaction. He grins against your skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark he left behind. 

“Your body says otherwise, sweets,” he says, bringing his face to be level with yours, “Tell me to stop,” he slips a hand under your skirt, teasing his fingertips along your inner thigh. Your breath is caught in your throat. “C’mon, tell me to stop,” he plucks the hem of your underwear right near where you want him most. His lips finding your skin again; featherlight kisses being pressed up and down the column of your throat. You tilt your head back to give him more room.

“H-harry, please,” you whine, your hands reach up to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Please what?” he whispers against your throat, biting down again, eliciting a groan from your lips. 

“P-please, t-touch me.”

“Thought you said you had a boyfriend?” He grins, tilting your chin down to look into your eyes. The hand that’s been under your skirt takes hold of the front of your panties and pulls you forward, making you lose your footing and sending you backwards onto the bed. Harry presses one knee onto the mattress, fingers still holding your panties, as he leans over you.

“T-that’s su–subject to change,”  you try to pull him down by the nape of his neck to kiss him again, but he doesn’t budge, one arm anchored near your head.

Instead, with a flick of his wrist he’s pulling your panties down your legs. Bringing them up to eye level, he smirks at the wet patch evident on the front of them.

“Is it now?” His salacious eyes look at you from above. You nod in response, making Harry chuckle. “So, are you going to admit that you were lying to me?” He tosses your panties to the side before bracing his other arm on the other side of you.

You shake your head, a mischievous smile forming on your pouty lips. You run your hands under his sweater up his torso, relishing in the warm feeling under your fingertips. He never let you touch him last time, but he wasn’t about to stop you now. He’d die a happy man after knowing what your skin felt like against his. The way your body reacted to every little touch he offered. Sure, he felt you last time, but not like this.

“You’re just going to make it worse for yourself, sweets,” Harry grins down at you.

“Maybe that’s what I want,” your hands stop their exploration and cup the sides of his face, your thumbs rubbing over his cheekbones. “I do have a boyfriend, but he’s not you,” you whisper. Knowing that Chase isn’t your boyfriend anymore.

“Such a naughty girl,” He leans down to kiss you, your hold moving up and tangling in his curls. You moan into his mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers come in contact with your cunt; he takes the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny he could find before he pulls away, chuckling at your blown out pupils. “Does Chase take care of you like I did?”

“N-no,” a whine leaves you at the loss of contact, “He won’t even choke me,” you pull him back down to your mouth, hooking your right leg around his waist to bring his weight on top of yours.

He pulls away—“Sounds like a pussy”—before kissing you once again. Lips moving in sync; your whines and whimpers being stolen from you by the greedy man above you. His fingers finally make contact with where you need him most; dipping two inside your warmth to prod at the spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back.

“Haah, you have—ff—fuck, r-right there—no idea.” Your skin already feels like it’s on fire. Your body reacts to his every touch; craving more and more at every turn. Harry would give you anything you wanted if you’d asked for it.

“Mm, you probably feel so needy right now, huh?” he chuckles, bringing his free hand up to firmly grasp your throat. The mischievous glint forming in your eyes again, his favorite smile etched onto your lips. He finally put your favorite necklace back in its rightful place. 

“Uhuh, please. Need you so bad,” His thumb begins rubbing slow circles on your clit; your teeth take hold of your bottom lip as you look at him with blown out eyes, silently begging for more. 

“Yeah?” He’s enthralled by your eagerness. The most genuine smile he’s ever been able to muster forms on his lips. You’ve successfully turned this man into mush without even trying. He’d burn the whole world down for you if it meant you’d look at him like that. “Gonna let me take care of you?” 

You nod. 

“Forever this time?” he’s searching your eyes for any ounce of hesitation. Every feeling he ever felt for you shined bright in the emerald orbs before you.

You smile. 

Big.

“Y-yes, Sir,” leaves your lips in the form of a salacious whisper.

“I can be Sir any other time, I just want to be Harry for you right now, sweets,” he retracts his hand from between your legs, bringing it to face level. His eyes never leave yours as he swipes his tongue over his fingers, licking up every ounce of your arousal; his other hand never leaving your throat, rubbing his thumb over your pulse point. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s so dirty; and you love it. 

You nod frantically in his hold. “H-Harry please,” you’re not sure what you’re asking for, you just want him.

“Gonna give you what you want–what you need–baby,” he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before taking a hold of your hip with his free hand and flipping the two of you over so you were straddling his waist. Sliding his hand that’s around your throat to the nape of your neck to kiss you deeply. He sits up with you, bringing his hands down to the hem of your shirt, sliding his warm hands over the expanse of your hips, trailing up to grope your breasts; his lips still moving perfectly in sync with yours. “C-can i take this off?”

“Please,” a whine leaves your lips. Your arms raise up as he slides your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side. He eyes your chest; placing kisses all over. Reaching behind you, unclasping your bra as it finds the same fate as your shirt. His mouth latches on to your left breast, rolling his tongue over the perked bud. You throw your head back, arms draped around his neck as you grind your bare cunt into his very evident bulge; reveling in the friction against your clit.

“If you keep doing that, I’m going to lose my shit,” he growls, taking your other breast into his mouth.

“Do your worst,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hands under his sweater, pulling it over his head to join the other pieces of clothing on the floor. You stand from his lap before he’s able to react. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of your skirt, you shimmy it down your hips and thighs, giving him a little show. He watches on with lustful eyes. 

He reaches for his belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans. “You gonna tie me up again, Harry? Hm?” you tease him, opening the button of his jeans.

“No, baby. Wanna feel your hands all over me this time,” he tosses the belt to the side, standing from the bed, he cups the sides of your face, pulling you to him once again. Your hands still working his zipper, pushing his jeans down.

“Then allow me,” you whisper. Reaching to pull his hands from your face, dropping them to his sides. Slowly sinking to your knees, placing open mouthed kisses to his skin as you traveled south. You feel his abdomen contract at the light touch, making you smirk against his skin before swiping your tongue over the surface, making the man above you audibly whimper.

“D-don’t tease, sweets.” 

You chuckle, pulling his jeans all the way down, he kicks them to the side. Harry slides his boxers off, not wanting to waste anymore time, much to your dismay. You roll your eyes, but your attitude disappears once his cock springs up and you catch a glimpse of his reddened tip, just begging for your attention. 

“Sit,” you whisper, running your fingertips up his legs, tracing over the tiger tattoo on his thigh; placing a kiss on its nose after he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Anything you want, baby,” he reaches to cradle your face, but you dodge his reach. He looks at you quizzically.

“No touching,” rolls off your tongue. You watch his eyes darken as that famous smile forms.

“Oh, you want to play like that?” he leans back on his hands, as you nod. Your hands wrapping around the base of his cock, making him suck a breath through his teeth.

“Wanna see how long you can last without touching me,” you say before you spit onto his tip, smearing it with the precum along his length. Engulfing him in your mouth, swirling your tongue over his tip; running it up and down the prominent vein along the underside. Harry’s eyes roll into the back of his head when you pass the tip of your tongue over the tip of his cock. 

“F–Fuck, sweets, that’s s–so go–ood,” his hands fist in the comforter, just itching to grasp into your hair to guide you how he wanted you. But he was enjoying letting you have your fun. You hum after sinking him to the back of your throat; working him up and up and up. “Baby, if you don’t stop, I’m gon–” you reach up, to fondle his balls, giving them a firm squeeze. His hands shoot up; pulling you off of his cock. “Unless you want me to cum down your throat, you’d better stop now,” he warns you, letting you go. You shake your head.

“Fuck my throat, Harry,” you groan. “Gimme your cum,” your tongue lulls out as you put your mouth on him again.

“You want my help now?” he questions, swiping your hair out of your eyes. You hum an ‘mhm’ around his cock. You pull off for a second—”You already lost, so just fuck my throat already”—before sinking your mouth back onto him. A groan erupts from deep in his chest; he stands slightly, gripping underneath your chin with one hand, and cradles the back of your head with the other, “Breathe through that nose, baby,” he says before nestling your nose against his happy trail; holding you there for a few seconds before pulling back just enough to hear the slick sounds of spit leaving your lips and then diving back in. Rocking his hips back and forth; his balls slapping your chin with every thrust. Your eyes watering, mascara bleeding onto your cheeks. He pulls you off, letting you catch your breath. “Color?” he asks, leaning down by your face. 

“G-green,” you choke out, a sadistic grin forming on your lips. 

“My filthy girl,” he smiles down at you. Tapping your cheek, signaling you to open, Harry spits onto your tongue, colliding his fingertips with the surface of your cheek before sliding his cock back into your mouth. You groan at the impact on your cheek. “Still want my cum in your throat? Blink once for yes and two for no, sweets,” he grins down at you. You blink once in response. “Alright, baby” he speeds up his hips, the tip of his cock prodding at the back of your throat with every thrust. You gag, but he presses on emptying himself deep inside. Moans and cries of your name leave his lips as he squeezes every last drop into your mouth onto your tongue. You swallow and cough as he pulls himself out, catching your breath. He reaches down, pulling you up under your arms to stand with him. Swiping his hands over your hips and lower back; he pulls you to straddle his lap on the bed once again. “Such a pretty girl, looking a mess for me,” he praises, swiping a thumb across your cheek wiping some of the tears and drool away. “Missed you like this. Missed you in general,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours, tasting himself on your tongue. 

“I missed you too,” you whisper against his lips, pressing your lips back together. He grins against your mouth.

“Couldn’t have missed me too much,” he chastises you, “How many guys did you try to look for me in?” he questions, flipping the two of you over, standing between your legs and  leaning over you. “Hm? How many guys did you try to let have what's mine?” One of his hands swipes those two fingers through your folds.

“J-just f-four,” you moan at the contact. “Promise, I missed you,” you try to pull him down to you, but he remains like a statue, staring at you from above. “Please, kiss me, Harry,” you plead with him.

“Mm, just four,” he mutters. “Gonna give me four orgasms to make it up to me?” he nods his head at you, grabbing your chin to nod your head for you; he smiles at the look of panic in your eyes. “Say, ‘Yes, Harry’ if you understand, baby,” he says, placing a kiss on your nose.

“Y-yes, Harry,” you whisper. Smiling before pulling his lips to yours. He trails his kisses down the expanse of your chest, teasing his tongue on your skin with every kiss. You’re a whimpering mess beneath his touch. Reacting to every pass of his hands over your sweat-slicked skin. Harry settles on his knees between your legs, sligning your knees over his shoulders.

“Still green?” he asks, breath fanning over your cunt. 

“Uhuh,” you whine. “So green.”

Harry dives right in, swiping his tongue over your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, lightly crazing his teeth over the nub; making your hips jerk in response. One of his hands slides up to firmly hold your hips in place against the mattress. 

“Oh, fuck, Harry,” you gasp as a finger enters your heat, giving you that delicious curl that only he could achieve. Your fingers weave into his curls, tugging at the roots. 

“Mm, baby. Keep pulling on it,” he moans against your pussy. “Make it hurt,” he whines. Tongue fucking you as deep as he could and his nose constantly bumping up with your clit has your senses turning all the lights in the house on, plus his finger poking at your g spot has you cumming without warning. Clutching onto his curls for dear life as your body convulses under his mouth.

“Gimme all of it, baby. Soak my face,” he says, continuing his ministrations. Your clit throbs under his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. 

“T–too much, Harry, oh god. Too much!” He slaps down on your thigh as a warning.

“Shut up, and take it for me like the good girl I know you can be f’me,” his thumb pressing on your clit, sending you into your second orgasm only a minute and a half after your first one. “Good,” he praises you. “Very good, baby.” His fingers continue working you through your trembling state; bringing you back down to earth; just for him to send you back into outer space once he deemed you ready for takeoff. “How are you feeling, sweets?” He slides your legs off of his shoulders, then standing to lean over you again.

“So fucking good, Harry,” you moan out, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. He leans into your touch laying his body weight on top of yours. One of his hands comes up to cradle your face, swiping his thumb over the apple of your cheek before kissing you hard. Tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue has never tasted so good. He moans into your mouth, swiping his cock through your folds. 

“Good,” he smiles down at you. You hike your leg up around his hip, tugging him as close to you as possible as he pushes inside. A delicious stretch that you’ve missed terribly. None of those boys you’d attempted to forget Harry with could ever compare to this here and now. He swallows the moans you let escape; sliding his other hand down to grip the sides of your throat, making you whimper. “Take it,” he growls, “Take it all.” 

“Hgnh, Harry. It–it’s–” your moans take over before you’re able to finish your sentence. But Harry knew.

“Know it is, baby. But you love it.” He grins, covering your mouth with his to pull your tongue into his mouth. Stilling his hips once he’s at full hilt, surveying your body's responses to the stretch. Pulling your other leg up over his hip, you silently beg him to move. Harry begins rocking his hips back and forth, stealing every one of your whimpers and cries of pleasure. Your nails leaving scratches along his back. Harry reaches one arm under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly, getting a different angle. Your head tilts back, he takes the opportunity to attach his teeth to your throat, eliciting a deep groan from you. 

But he’s not satisfied yet. He stands, still inside you; grabbing ahold of behind both of your knees and pressing them to your chest, he pistons himself into your cunt; turning you into a whimpering mess. “Fuck, sweets, this pussy fe–eels so go–od.” He groans, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. The angle making your eyes cross; lulling your tongue out he offers you a wad of spit, adding two fingers. “Suck,” and you do. Taking them into your mouth; swirling your tongue around. His other hand sliding down to rub fast circles on your clit, making you gasp. Accepting the opportunity, he pushes his fingers further into your throat making you gag. “Hm, very good, baby,” he smiles at you, retracting his fingers; offering you a slap across your cheek. You smile up at him. “Dirty girl, just wants to be manhandled. Poor thing’s been neglected, huh?” You nod. 

He speeds up his fingers, ignoring your protests of too much. He reminds you that you know what words to use if you really want him to stop. “Gonna cum, pretty?” 

“Uhuh uhuh,” you whine, “hurts, Harry.”

“Know it does, pretty. But you’ll take it f’me won’t you?” he coos at you. You nod frantically in response, your arms anchoring around his neck and pulling him to you. “Yeah you will.”

“G’na cum, Harry,” you tuck your face into his throat, peppering kisses all over the surface in attempt to ground yourself. 

“Cum all over me, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he whispers in your ear. Your body contracts against his, he anchors one hand to your hip, forcing you to remain in place and accept the assault on your bundle of nerves from his other hand.

“H-Harry, please, please please,” whines leave your spit slicked lips, and he just coos you to be quiet.

“Shh, baby. Just take it f’me.” his fingers speed up just a little bit more, as do your whines. “Now, now, do I need to silence you? You were doing so good, baby,” he says, colliding his fingertips with your cheek once again, making you go quiet. You shake your head ‘No’. He takes hold of your face, covering your mouth with his hand as he looks down into your eyes. “Then give me another, right now,” he demands, stilling his hips against yours but continuing to spell his name over your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. 

“F–fuck, Harry,” your body works into overdrive as you hit the peak of the mountain again; toppling over the edge of pleasure and coming down fast, headed right for rock bottom but not before Harry swiftly pulls himself out of you, and flipping you over onto your tummy. You gasp in surprise. He enters you again from behind, you reach back to grasp his hip, attempting to push him back. 

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m not done with you yet,” he growls in your ear. Grasping both of your arms, he folds them against your lower back in one hand.

“Y-you said, f-four,” you whine into the comforter.

“Did I?” he grins above you. “Hm, guess that makes me a liar too, doesn’t it?" he chuckles darkly, his free hand landing smack after smack on your ass. "C’mon pretty, give me number five.”

“H-harry, I–I ca-can’t.”

“You can, and you will,” he states matter of factly. Pulling your arms back with each thrust of his hips to hit every good angle inside your pussy. 

Your head is spinning, every nerve of yours is on fire. Sliding a hand down the expanse of your back, he presses his thumb into your ass, making you moan louder than you have all night. With every thrust of Harry’s hips it drives his thumb further into your ass making your eyes cross.

“G’na cum again, oh god, Harry. G’na cum!”

“Cum, baby. Give all of it to me,” your arousal comes in waves, squirting all over Harry’s abdomen and thighs. “Oh, yes, baby. There she is, such a dirty girl. C’mon, keep squirting all over this dick,” he groans. Leaning down to angle your head to smush his lips against yours. Your body is set ablaze; nobody has ever been able to set your senses on fire like this. Harry was your one in a million, and he finally saw that. He continues thrusting his hips, in and out, in and out milking every bit of your arousal from you that he can. Releasing your arms, he braces his hands near your head, biting down on your upper back as he fucks you into the mattress.

“W-where do you want my cum, baby?” He asks breathlessly, sinking his teeth back into your skin.

“I-inside. Fill me up, Harry,” you moan into the blanket beneath you, your knuckles turning white from your grip.

“Don't have to tell me twice,” he grunts, “G’na fill this pussy up with my babies. Make you all swollen for me. Then those boys will know who you belong to. You want that? Hm?” 

“F-Fuck, yes, Harry. Make me yours,” you cry out, fisting the comforter in your hands. He stills against you; filling you to the brim. “S-shit, Harry. So good, baby. So good.”

“Shit, pretty—you’re so good. Best I ever had, swear to god. Such a good girl,” he moans against your skin. “Perfect f’me.”

The months of brooding just kept him away from what was his; you. Everything about you. The smile he fell in love with at first sight, but refused to admit it. The sounds of your laughter filling the air. The way your face reddened every time he kissed your cheek goodbye. The gleam in your eyes when you got particularly excited about something, especially if it was considered taboo. You were his dirty girl.

He was leaning against the counter as you two discussed everything. The one question you’d asked him that he didn’t really want to answer at the time. “Do you believe in love?” His response, “I’d like to, but it’s not for me,” and it broke your heart. He didn’t think he was deserving. He just wanted to run his business, and move on. He ignored every pang in his chest when he thought about you. But looking at you here and now, his arms wrapped around you as you stood in your hotel room shower, his heart has never felt more full.

“I think I have to change my answer to one of your previous questions.” He says, running his hands over your water slicked skin, rubbing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“Mm, which one would that be?” You ask, turning your head to look up at him, cheek pressed against his chest, your fingers tangled in his wet curls.

“If I believe in love.”

“And?” You question, a sly smile forming on your lips.

“If I get to experience it with you, then I absolutely believe in love,” he leans down to softly kiss your lips, pulling you as close to him as possible. “But you were right about one thing,” he whispers as he pulls away for a split second, taking in the gigantic smile on your face. Your eyes searching for any sense of deception. 

There is none.

“What’s that?” you ask, bringing a hand down to cup his face; you run your thumb across his bottom lip.

“I didn’t do feelings. Not until you,” and he’s kissing you again.

c/n: weeeeell. what do we think? 🙈 I know it says final up there but I think I may do a check in or two for our pair here. We shall see!! Thank you for coming along this journey with them! I hope you enjoyed!

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

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