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sabraeal · 3 years ago

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Provocateur, Prologue

[Read on AO3]

Written for @krispy-kream in honor of her birthday. Many years ago, back when I first joined fandom, I came up with the idea for an Obi Works For Izana AU, and both Sharon and I ended up writing small pieces of a much larger whole. And now FINALLY...I’m actually writing the very beginning 🤣

When it comes down to it, in terms of area and amenities, the royal dungeons has some of his last few flats beats.

There’s light, for one. He’s never liked basement apartments-- he’d take a stifling attic room over a place with only one exit any day-- but the windows here are high up on the wall, enough that he can watch the sun paint his cell floor as the hours pass. They’re ground level, at least by the foot traffic outside of ‘em, and with how loud these guards gossip, he’ll know whose girlfriends are pregnant and who’s nursing a nasty boil by shift change. Just like sitting in a tavern for a few hours, only with less ale.

There’s a cot too, straw-stuffed and a little too soft, with a blanket that doesn’t even itch. Seems like it might be warm too, for when the nights get cold. Not that he has an intention of testing out that particular hunch.

The guard down the hall is decent in the way authority figures never are; when he calls out to ask where his piss bucket is, the man-- boy? It’s hard to tell beneath those helmets-- ushers him down a hall to a water closet, and when he pops out, reminds him to take care to wash his hands. He’s prompt about mealtime too; when supper comes, the man says to expect three square and leaves him with with a dinner that would put most publicans to shame.

All in all, this isn’t the worst trouble he’s gotten himself into. Worlds better than that stint he’d had in Eurikenna’s gaol. Or that night in Port City.

Still, he’s got no plans to linger. No point in sticking around for a punishment when he's got no interest in redemption. But he’s got a prince to wait for.

Oh, His Highness might say he’s above getting his hands dirty, might look down that noble nose at a man like him who makes his living in trade, but he’d seen his look. Not the first, when his little mistress was watching, all puffed cheeks and disapproving brow, but the second, that glance over his shoulder as the Big Man frogmarched a dirty rat down into the dungeons.

That one was a man who had found the right tool for the job. Hands don’t stay clean without gloves to cover them, especially if they mean to hold a mistress who collects trouble like some ladies collect hairpins. If he wants to keep his side piece quiet, it’s only a matter of time before he’ll have to make a statement. And nothing says don’t touch what’s mine like a few accidents. All he has to do is wait out a royal conscience.

The light fades as he waits, just the last stretch of dusky light yawning on the sill. It’s almost time for all good little princes to be in bed, but this one-- this one will be working instead. The hand that grabbed him had been stained with ink and calluses both; the kind of man who longed for action but was stuck behind a desk. He’ll be up late, managing men and supplies miles away on paper, but in his head--

Oh, in his head, he’ll be thinking about the man he’s left to rot in the dungeons. The one that might be just the right fit for what he needs, for the jobs he can’t give that giant or the pretty girl at his side. It’s the sort of idea that’ll eat at him when the lamps are low and the night is quiet, and oh, how a conscience can gnaw when there’s no more work to feed it. There’s a reason he’s never idle. Not usually, at least.

He casts a long glance down the silent hall; the guard sits at his table, log book spread in front of him, another smaller one laid atop. A novel, by the slack-jawed look that’s slapped across his face. In Eurikenna, his reputation had preceded him, and they’d bound him hand and foot, bolting his wrists to the wall and his feet to the bench. Viande had put him in a cell with a single window and stone on all sides, his only escape leading into a moat rumored to be prowled by sharks.

Here he has a single guard and bars he could probably squeeze through if he skipped a meal or two. It’s insulting to be so underestimated-- or it would be, if he wasn’t already planning to stay. He’s paid out his room at the inn for a week; a few days to enjoy the impeccable food and passable mattress he’s got here won’t hurt-- just as long as he makes it back before the innkeep tosses all his worldly goods in the gutter. And if he does need to make a quick escape--

Well, it’s hardly the first time he’s slipped the noose. But it won’t come to that. Younger Highness is on the hook.

The door to the dungeon clanks open; it’s a softer sound, barely loud enough for him to hear, but he hasn’t made a name for himself by being the sort of person who only hears what he ought. The guard’s gone-- book too-- and his hand itches to have something that ends with a point in it. He should have known, this was all too easy.

A shrouded figure sweeps through the threshold, prowling with the easy confidence only men born to power possessed-- or a professional. His hands flexed, too empty. He’s a loose end, an embarrassing stain on a proud man’s reputation, and there’s only one thing to do with that-- rub it out.

“You’re not the prince,” he says, keeping his voice even, maybe a bit petulant. Boldness wins a bluff; all he needs is time. Just a second, a hesitation--

Which he gets; the figure’s boots scuffing to a stop. Its head cocks, curious. “Is that so?”

It’s a man’s voice, higher than he expects, but resonant. The sort that people listen to when they’re not looking for a way out. The sort that won’t care for a man turning his back on it.

“You’re too tall.” He saunters to his cot, the mattress sinking under his weight. Not quite the attitude he’d been hoping for, but close enough. Gives him enough time to realize his cloaked friend isn’t talking-- no, instead he catches the barest tremble of cloth before a gloved hand tugs it smooth.

“How...astute,” the man hums, a strange lift kicking that first vowel before he smooths that out too. Everything about this man is slick, from the shine of his boots to the way he says, “That must be the observational skills that tempted even the marquis to hire you.”

His grin flicks into a grimace, but habit wipes that all clean before he says, “I wasn’t hired by anyone. Just wanted to...advertise my skills. In case anyone with a fat wallet found themselves needing a problem taken care of.”

Another pause, this one heavier. “And this girl seemed like a likely target?”

“A commoner nosing around a prince?” A laugh huffs out of him. “What about that isn’t a problem? At least when it’s a lady, she doesn’t have pockets that need filling, but some little herbalist girl? There’s a long way between lady slippers and slippers for a lady. And not everyone wants to kiss hems to get a mistress in their pocket.”

Not when it’s just as like to be covered in mud. If there’s one thing he’s learned about these bluebloods, it’s that they only suck up, not down.

The shroud shifts, arms folding across a chest too slender to be called broad, and shoulders too wide to be scrawny. Lithe, perhaps, the perfect size to slip through a man’s guard.

“The job is over, you know.” Boot heels clack as the man draws closer, just enough to see a defined chin beneath the shadows of his hood. “There’s no need for all this cloak and dagger. Haruka has already confessed to the crown that he was the one to hire you.”

His fingers flex behind his head, longing for something besides bristle to cross his palms. “Don’t know why he’s going through all the trouble. I don’t know him.”

This isn’t his first interrogation, but it’s certainly the slowest. The man stands silently outside the bars, a single finger lying along his diamond-cut jawline. No questions, no speculation, just a shadow staring out of a hood, observing. This must be what it’s like to be boiled alive; put in the pot when it’s barely a simmer, the heat raising so gradually that it’s not until his chest is near bursting to speak, to fill the silence, that he knows he’s been cooked.

“What would you have done?” the man says, finally. “If you had your way with the girl.”

The girl who, in the face of danger, tore an arrow from the wall rather than run. “Nothing permanent.”

What little he can see of the shroud’s mouth curves. “How very vague. So many unpleasant things only take a moment.”

“The job was to scare her off,” he admits, wondering why his belly quivered in his gut. There’s bars between them, and his hands are faster than any nob’s, no matter how good the costume. But still, his muscles lay coiled against his bones, ready to strike. “Seduce her, if she seemed...amenable. Bribe her if she didn’t.”

“And what then?” It’s a quicker response than he expects, but the man isn’t agitated-- far from it, he’s never seemed calmer. “If the girl proved impervious to your more...gentle measures.”

There’s a question in that, one the shroud won’t voice. But he hears it, loud in his ears as a bell’s gong.

“I’ve killed before,” he says, each word on thin ice. “And I still sleep at night.” Barely. “I could have done it again.”

“But would you?”

For once, he hesitates. Imagines looking into those bright eyes, the ones that flamed so fiercely in defiance, and with the flick of a wrist, snuffing them out.

“It’d be a waste.” His hands tremble where they cradle his head, a command he hasn’t given them. This is the last thing he needs right now, losing control. “That girl’s got a lot of pluck. And if rumors around the pharmacy are right, a lot of brains too. Besides, bodies make more talk than bribes.”

“That they do.” There’s a lilt to those words, almost amused. “You know, you called it a job. Implying that you received compensation for your services.”

It’s a sting to realize he’s slipped. “Doesn’t mean it was the marquis.”

“It certainly doesn’t,” the man agrees, and if this room weren’t so dark, if this conversation wasn’t so serious-- well, he’d be tempted to say this guy is laughing at him. “Do you have a name?”

He turns to him real slow-like, one utterly dubious brow arched toward the guard’s register. “You want me to believe you can’t read?”

That shadow of a mouth lifts again. “Am I to believe a man of your skill gave your birth name to the royal guard?”

His mouth cocks into a grin. “You must if you think I’m gonna give it to you.”

The man comes closer still, one gloved hand wrapping around his bars. He’s visible to the tip of his nose; a long, patrician one.

“Of course. But you must have something you would like to be called.” His lips-- bowed, the most fashionable in Clarines’ court-- twitch toward a smile, but fall perilously short. “An alias, if you will.”

“Obi.” It’s too short, too quick, but already he likes it. It’s a more playful name than he’s had in a long while. Easy to lose, too, if he needs it.

“Well then, Obi.” His arm rests over one of the cross bars of his cell. “I believe I have a proposition for you.”

“Haah.” He hops to his feet, hoping to seize the high ground. “I appreciate the interest, but I’m already waiting on an offer.”

To say the hood recoiled would be an overstatement, it merely pulls back, barely more than an inch. “An offer?”

“Well, maybe more like...I have prospects.” Obi restrains his grin to little more than a twitch. “I just gotta see if they’ll pan out.”

The hood stills, thoughtful. “What if I could guarantee you a better offer?”

“You couldn’t.”

The man hums, amusement changing his pitch. “I quite sure I could.”

“Nah.” Obi shakes his head, almost wishing it weren’t so. This guy seems like he could be real fun, if he got his hands on his reins. “I don’t think so.”

“Please.” He opens a hand; an invitation. “Try me.”

“Fine.” There’s nothing to lose by telling, besides some face, if he’s wrong. Which Obi knows he’s not. “I got a feeling the next guy through that door’ll be His Highness.”

The man rocks back, like he’s been hit. “Zen? You think...?”

Obi expects some bargaining, some disbelief, maybe even some haggling, but--

He does not expect the laugh.

“Oh,” the man coughs, lifting a hand as if he might wipe tears from his eyes. “I promise you, I can give you a...far more attractive offer.”

Now that’s a rich one. “What could be better than a second prince?”

The man’s hand raises past his eyes, right to the edge of his hood. With the barest flick of his fingers, the cloth falls back, baring bright gold and Wisteria blue.

“Why,” drawls His Highness Izana Wisteria, crown prince, soon to be first of his name, “the first.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obi works for izana au #my fic #ans #listen it's obiyuki as a WHOLE but in this chapter there's just little hints #but truly this is just our excuse to have:#1) obi work with the smartest man in the manga and have his whole skill set utilized #2) enemies to friends to lovers #also torturing zen and obi with the friendship that could have been #that too #you know how it is

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aethersea · 4 years ago

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May I request 41 - First Kiss and 94 - Hair Brushing/Braiding for the Leverage OT3, please? (Also extra bonus points if you give Eliot beads in his hair like in The Ice Man Job, because we didn't get NEARLY enough of that in the show) Thank you!

I cannot believe I wrote this whole thing out and then never published it. I’m so sorry, it’s been at least twenty-four years since you sent in this ask, please accept my humble apologies and also this ficlet.

However, this prompt is just pure fluff, and I hate to tell you this but I am not a fluff writer. I just can’t pull off that unadulterated sweetness. I am in this fandom for the shenanigans, first, last and foremost! So this fic is now a 5+1 of Eliot and Parker trying to seduce Hardison.

1. Parker thinks they need to give him gifts, so she goes through her stash and picks out the largest, fanciest jewel she’s ever stolen. Then she realizes: Hardison likes stories. He spends hours giving their aliases histories and pets and allergies and favorite foods, he can get a whole sordid history of jealousy and betrayal from a single corporate email chain, and Parker knows for a cold fact that he writes little stories with his online friends about being wizards together.

She goes through her stash again and picks out the most cursed thing she’s ever stolen.

It’s a jeweled statuette, almost as tall as her forearm, made of gold and studded with precious and semi-precious stones. Mysterious deaths have befallen five separate owners of this thing. Its base is dented from the time it was used to bludgeon Owner Number Three to death. The tiny rubies it has for eyes follow you across the room.

Parker puts a bow on it and leaves it in Hardison’s room while he’s sleeping. He wakes up to this horrible little statue watching him from his bedside table.

He texts the group chat, Hey did anyone put an evil little gold guy in my bedroom last night? But Parker chickens out and says nothing (drunkenly betting Eliot that she can seduce Hardison is one thing, but admitting that she likes him is something else altogether). Everyone else texts back variations on “nope.” (Except Sophie, who just sends back a string of heart eyes emojis and a wikipedia link. She loves cursed artifacts.) So Hardison puts the statue away in a closet somewhere and figures he’ll deal with it later.

Parker is mildly offended that he put her gift in a closet. She goes into his room the next night and puts it back on the bedside table, where it clearly belongs.

This goes on for a week. Hardison puts the statue in a desk drawer, then in one of the cabinets in the office downstairs, then in the dumpster down the street. Every day he wakes up to those glittering red eyes watching him sleep. He’s asked his internet buddies if anyone knows a good exorcist. Hardison doesn’t really believe in curses, but also? What the fuck. What the fuck.

2. Eliot assumes the drunken bet will be forgotten by morning. What kind of world would it be if people always followed through on promises they made while they could barely stay vertical? So he spends the morning nursing his hangover and cleaning his knives. Cleaning guns is no good while hungover—all the snaps and clicks of popping things in and out of place sound like actual gunfire when you’re hungover, it’s a nightmare—but knives are quiet and have no moving parts. Buffing and polishing them is soothingly repetitive work, and every once in a while he can throw one at one of the dartboards on the walls and reassure himself that his reflexes are still sound even after that much tequila.

It’s only when he gets Hardison’s text about the golden statuette that magically appeared in his room overnight that Eliot realizes Parker’s actually going for it. After some internal debate about whether he’s going to stoop to this or not, Eliot decides what the hell and starts making plans.

Eliot agrees that gifts are the way to go, but not stolen gifts. Not things. Anyone can give a thing. Proper wooing is about giving experiences.

Eliot plans for three days. On the fourth day, he and Hardison have their irregularly scheduled monthly coffee date, and Eliot texts him beforehand to say he wants to do it at the brewpub this time. Hardison arrives to find a deceptively simple meal: basic country fare perfected through years of experimentation, made with the best ingredients Eliot can get his hands on. And Eliot, after all, is still a retrieval specialist. There’s very little in the world he can’t get his hands on.

And yet the night ends and somehow he has not gotten his hands on Hardison.

This is just not right. Eliot knows how to deploy a smolder, okay, Tangled reference aside he is damn good at flirting and he knows the looks he’s giving Hardison are clear as day. It’d be one thing if Hardison had turned him down, or if he’d been uneasily unwilling, or even if his eyes had widened slightly in suppressed panic and he’d abruptly found a reason to leave. Eliot can take rejection, bet or no, and he’d have bowed out graciously without a fuss. But this was much, much worse.

Hardison didn’t even notice he was flirting.

He’s going to have to up his game.

3. “How do you seduce people?” Parker asks bluntly, turning up at Sophie’s door just past midnight.

Sophie, despite the hour, is utterly delighted by the question.

This goes as well as you would expect.

4. Eliot’s taken a lot of dates to sports games. Hardison may prefer sparkly elves with purple lightning magic to a decent MMA fight, but baseball is the American pastime. Eliot gets them perfect seats, hot dogs from the best vendor in the stadium, even chilled beer that he smuggles in without letting it get warm. It’s going to be a perfect game.

And it is. At first. Hardison, it turns out, has a lot of opinions about baseball. What he does not have is an understanding of the rules. They’re not even into the second inning by the time Eliot finally snaps and starts arguing with him about it.

They make it all the way to the fifth inning before Eliot realizes that Hardison’s basing his complaints off the rules of a game from a Star Wars novel.

They’re at the bottom of the eighth before Eliot will speak to him again.

5. Eliot and Parker are drunk again. This is not intentional. They didn’t even mean to come to this bar, but the smoothie place with the fried oreos that Eliot had brought Parker here to try was playing such incredibly bad music that they’d ordered the oreos to go and fled. The bar was just the coziest looking place on the block, and of course they’d ordered drinks to avoid being rude––Eliot had entertained himself for a few minutes scouring the menu for something that would pair well with fried oreos and popcorn chicken.

And now they’re drunk. The conversation has, perhaps inevitably, turned to the ongoing bet.

“I tried everything!” Parker wails. “I laughed at every joke, I touched my hair constantly, I got him talking about things he likes.” She thunks her forehead on the bar. “All that happened is now I know the complete history of orcs in western literature.”

“Hardison wouldn’t know flirting if it pinched him on the ass,” Eliot grumbles.

Parker slaps his arm. “No pinching Hardison!”

“I’m not going to—I don’t pinch people!”

Parker’s ignoring him. Eliot pouts and takes another sip of his drink. He’s not entirely sure what this one is––it’s blue and kind of fizzy, that’s all he can say for sure. Parker took over the drinks menu several glasses ago, and she’s been picking them based on what has the most fun name to say. Eliot’s pretty sure the alcohol content’s been doubling with each order.

“Eliot,” Parker slurs, “we need to work together.”

“What?”

Parker lifts her head from the bar and frowns at him, the way she does when she’s figured out the obvious solution and is just waiting for everyone else to get on the same page. It’s adorable. It’s always adorable, but right now her eyes are wide and slightly unfocused from the alcohol and she’s listing sideways a little, almost as if she’s unbalanced, and it is the most adorable thing Eliot has ever seen. Parker’s never unbalanced, but some part of Eliot’s fuzzy brain thinks she’s about to fall on top of him and cannot wait to catch her.

“You can’t seduce Hardison,” Parker points out. Eliot is drunk enough to get offended by this, but too drunk to get out a complaint before she continues, “I can’t seduce Hardison. But if we work together, the two of us can definitely seduce Hardison. Together.”

Eliot stares at her. Then he takes another sip of his fizzy blue drink. Later, when questioned, he will blame his next words on that drink.

“Worth a shot.”

They take Hardison to a movie. They research for three weeks beforehand. They find the best movie theater in town, with the nicest seats, the biggest screens, and concession snacks that Hardison likes, and they buy tickets for the midnight premiere of the superhero movie that Hardison hasn’t shut up about for the past month. Parker even hacks into the theater’s computers in a last-minute fit of nerves and cross-references the credit cards with drivers’ licenses to make sure the people sitting in front of them won’t be too tall.

Parker witnesses a kidnapping in the parking lot while the boys are getting popcorn. They don’t even stay long enough to catch the commercials.

+ 1. “Hey Eliot,” Hardison says during movie night, a little over a week later. “Remember the Ice Man Job?”

Eliot groans. “I try not to.”

Hardison throws a piece of popcorn at his face. “Shut up. Remember how you did your hair for that one? With the little—those little beads on, like, a braid?”

Eliot shoots Hardison a suspicious glance. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Teach me how to do that.”

Eliot shoots Hardison another, more deliberate look, this one pointedly directed at Hardison’s complete lack of braidable locks.

Hardison rolls his eyes as if that’s a silly detail to get hung up on and leans forward to dig around in one of the boxes he has under his coffee table. He emerges with a ziplock bag of plastic beads in no time flat and hands it triumphantly to Eliot. Then he yanks a few cushions out from behind Parker, who’s sitting on his other side, and puts them on the floor in front of him. “Sit here?” he asks Parker, patting the cushion pile.

Parker takes a moment to consider being offended at having her cushions stolen, but curiosity gets the better of her and she just plops down between Hardison’s legs, grabbing the bowl of popcorn as she goes, and waits.

Hardison lifts her hair with sudden gentleness, drawing it over her shoulders and letting it fall down her back in a golden wave. His fingers brush against her neck. Parker shivers. Eliot is distantly aware that he’s gone perfectly still, focused with a hunter’s intensity on Hardison’s dark, graceful fingers carding through Parker’s hair.

Hardison leans back, hands on his knees, and Eliot breathes again. “Well?” Hardison looks over at Eliot, a tiny smirk of challenge on his lips. “Show me how it’s done.”

Eliot is suddenly, brutally aware of how close they are. Hardison’s couch is obscenely comfortable, which is half the reason movie nights are at Hardison’s in the first place, but it is not large. Their thighs are touching. Hardison leans away, to give Eliot access to Parker’s hair, and he’s still so close that Eliot would barely have to reach out a hand to—

Eliot ruthlessly shoves that thought down into the dark where it belongs. He dealt with this, he dealt with this years ago, and accepting Parker’s stupid bet doesn’t mean he’s forgotten the way Hardison and Parker look at each other. It just means he doesn’t mind losing for a good cause.

So he keeps his tone steady and his fingers brisk as he shows Hardison how to braid the clunky plastic beads into Parker’s hair, and if he flushes with heat when their hands brush each other, well, nobody has to know. He’s been trained to withstand eight different schools of torture. It won’t show on his face. His voice never once falters.

Parker has had no such training. Her lips have parted, and her breathing is shallow. She’s staring glassy-eyed at the TV. Hardison can’t see her face, sitting behind her, but Eliot watches her carefully, worried that they need to call this off. Parker’s not used to intimacy, to closeness that means something, and for all the three of them have spent half their movie nights literally on top of each other, this is something else. This has weight.

Eliot puts a hand on her shoulder, pressing down just enough that Parker startles and cants a glance over at him. Eliot raises his eyebrows in question, and Parker glares back: don’t you fucking dare. Eliot backs off. Hardison, frowning in concentration as he threads a wisp of Parker’s hair through a green bead, graciously pretends he didn’t see the exchange.

Hardison gets the hang of the beading fairly quickly, and Eliot shows him a few different techniques. He’s almost managed to convince himself that nothing is actually happening when Hardison says, conversationally, “You two are really bad at this.”

Eliot glowers his confusion. “At movie night? You started this, if you wanted to actually watch Alien then you shouldn’t have—”

Hardison’s smile is soft, but Eliot decides for his own safety to focus on the laughter at its edge. “No, at this.” And then he slides his hand onto Parker’s neck, caresses her cheek, and isn’t the slightest bit surprised when she gasps.

Parker whips around, and there’s hurt on her face but it dies in the glow of Hardison’s gentle, unteasing smile. Hardison pulls her up with the lightest of touches, and she goes, eyes fixed on his like salvation.

They kiss sweet and slow, and Eliot’s heart twists in his chest and he can’t breathe. He needs to leave now before he shatters in half, but if he moves then they will look at him, and he would rather never breathe again than meet their eyes right now.

Hardison breaks off the kiss, gazing at Parker with something just this side of wonder, and then he does look at Eliot. Eliot flinches. He opens his mouth to…say something, make some joke or hasty excuse and scramble out the door, but Hardison raises a hand to Eliot’s face, slides his long fingers to cup Eliot’s neck, and pulls him forward, as gently as he did Parker.

It’s a chaste kiss, no more than a soft press of lips, because Eliot is too stunned to respond and Hardison doesn’t push. It lasts a long time. A whole era of change happens in the span of that kiss, as everything Eliot thought he knew tears out of place and then settles, gingerly, into a new understanding.

Hardison pulls away, his hand still warm on the back of Eliot’s neck. His smile is pure sunshine. Eliot finds himself smiling back, helpless.

Hardison’s grin turns smug. “And that,” he says, looking between Eliot and Parker, “is how you do it. Y’all are disasters, honestly, I can’t believe two master criminals working together couldn’t manage a single real date—”

Eliot heaves a deep sigh and drags Hardison into a headlock, pinning his arms when he flails. Parker surges to her knees and starts tickling him mercilessly.

They don’t finish the movie.

#finx writes #I didn't quite get Eliot's hair in there but I hope this works anyway #leverage #leverage fic #leverage ot3

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undergrounddweller89 · 4 years ago

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It's another late at night one between them because reasons, I don't need to explain myself *flips a tiny table*

Killian stood there infront of the fridge, looking over it's contents, he was hungry, he wanted to snack on something...but all Beckett had in his fridge was...health food...he could really murder someone for a piece of cake, chocolate, chips...sleep couldn't find him and he couldn't find it.

He reached in deciding on some fruit flavoured yogurt, he would have preferred ice cream but such is life apparently.

A claw tapping on the fridge door it was a low one the top half a freezer and yes he had looked in there.

The clock ticked loudly for some reason when it was night time, glancing over at the kitchen door, thinking that each tick would be the one to wake Beckett....now if he was on the table for something he could eat, he'd devour him.

Heh there was definitely something between his thighs he'd like to snack on but why would Beckett so much as look at him.

He had been permitted to move in with Walter, of course the scientist had seemed eager, to let him live there, he'd been his first Misson...heh...First villain, did that mean he took his spyginity...fuck he was glad no one could hear that dumbass comment, he even groaned at himself and here he was still standing with the yogurt in hand, wearing nothing, usually he would put on a pair of boxers as a courtesy to Walter but there was little chance that he'd wake up....

"Tristan?"

When he'd heard Becketts voice he tapped the side of his neck, didn't want to give the young man nightmares with his deformed face.

"You know you don't need to do that Tristan."

Walter smiled, sleepily rubbing at one eye.

Killian only made a sound but he did look at him, looks like he'd borrowed one of his shirts...again, but he never complained, they practically swallowed him, they were so baggy on his lithe form it was...was it possible for something to be sexy cute because if so Walter was the damn epitome.

"Was you looking for something to eat, not much in here, should go out tomorrow."

Killian replied matter of factly.

"Oh, sorry, I'm still getting used to making sure there's actually food in the house...I'll go tomorrow...you can come with if you want."

The young man shifted from foot to foot, tugging the shirt down, did Killian have to look so pretty, even with resting bitch face.

"Sounds like a plan...I have not exactly ventured out much

Killian looked Walter up and down, oh yes the perfect snack right there, but out of reach...right?

His robotic eye glowing a brighter blue as he thought of swiping everything off the table and planting Walter on it...did it make him a terrible man that from the moment he'd stepped on him in Venice, when he'd made the comment about having fun he'd absolutely would have done his damnedest to seduce him if he had not been a man on a mission, not blinded by hate for Sterling, he was still baffled by the fact Walter even let him live in the same space as him considering he'd tried to kill him...

twice...

Yes it made him terrible in his opinion.

Perhaps he'd even fantasised about Walter turning at the last minute, instead of deactivating his arm, he could have carried him off somewhere and made him his...

apprentice.

"Hey, Killian, Earth to Mcford, you're gonna ruin the contents of what we do have in the fridge if you leave it open like that, mind closing it."

Walter chuckled reaching up and tapping Killian's nose.

"I can't do that Beckett."

Tristan answered sheepishly, god what was it about Beckett that made him like this...smart, sweet, unique, he really was a light in the world he'd missed, never knew he needed until he knew he needed him.

Walter stepped forward and Killian shifted a little and sucked in his lips, well that was not what he expected the younger man to do, there was a long moment of silence as Walter looked down at him, problem was he liked Beckett looking, liked that he was staring at all of him and it was becoming obvious.

"You know Killian, I wouldn't mind a late night snack myself...I mean if the feeling's mutual."

Killian nearly dropped the yogurt, hands flailing to catch the plastic container, surprisingly being the Villain was easy, being hit on by a five ft nine scientist who looked like the wind could blow him over apparently had him...well like this.

He watched as Walter moved back a little, tucking his hair behind his ear, feeling somewhat embarrassed, oh perhaps he was wrong, that there hadn't been moments or lingering touches, maybe he'd imagined he'd found Killian staring at him

"Sorry, weirdos probably don't do it for you, probably like either some big guy like yourself or a lady with-"

Killian tossed the yogurt back in the fridge and closed the door, oh yes he'd found the exact snack he wanted.

Walter squeaked at the sudden action but when Tristan pulled him forward, claws pulling the front of the shirt to do so he didn't fight, he sank into that kiss, apparently both of them were starving, he reciprocated eagerly, hands sliding along his back, finger tips over scars, Walter could feel him pressed against his thigh, slowly moving.

Tristans hands felt so big on his waist, the man could engulf him entirely and do with him as he pleased, he wanted to surrender to him but the moment he felt his fingers on his bare skin he giggled making Tristan stop.

"Beckett, what is it?"

He looked at him dead serious and was trying not to be offended, had he done something Walter found funny.

"Your hands are cold, you're cold after standing in front of the fridge."

Walter smiled, it was so warm and kind that Tristan couldn't help but smile just a little to.

The machine lights from Becketts home made devices were lined with glowing lights, a soft blue highlighting them both, each of them just marveling at the others beauty, silence passing, just the rising and falling of their chests showing that either of them were alive, still, lost in that moment.

Walter took Killian's hands holding them, leaning up to kiss him sweetly, he kissed his lips, his jaw and then his neck where the sensors were, triggering the masking tech, revealing his true face once more.

Killian instinctively went activate it again, he didn't want Walter to see him like that when they were like this...scarred and ugly...

Walter stopped him, capturing his hand in a gentle clasp stopping him from turning it on again

"You don't need to hide yourself from me...I know it doesn't mean much but to me-"

Killian looked at the hand that held his, watching as it moved, letting go of him to caress his face, to trace the marred flesh between metal plating, over his scalp, leaning into his touch, pressing himself closer a thigh pressed between Walter's thighs a playful smile couldn't help creep up on him, so the scientist was going commando.

His eyes closed as Walter caressed what he hated...some how his touch, so affectionate, so tender, Killian knew he'd do anything for Beckett...he felt fingers teasing the line between scarred flesh and where his hair began, making him shiver that felt lovely, so very wonderful his spine tingling, moaning softly.

"Tristan..."

"Hmm?"

Killian returned still leaning into his touch.

"Don't ever let anyone ever tell you, you're not beautiful..."

Killian's eye fluttered open as the robotic one flickered on when he heard that, something in his chest ached...it was a beautiful kind of pain and he'd known it only once before...oh when had that happened...when had he fallen in love with Walter Beckett?

Cupping Walters face kissing him again, slow and passionate, adjusting himself again so their hips lined, claws on his hip.

"You gonna strip me down to Tristan, body heat is best shared when both people are-"

Killian ripped the shirt open from the neck down, looking like a predator who wanted to consume him entirely

"I thought you liked that shirt!?"

Was the response Killian got but he only grinned

"Oooh Beckett, I think it should be obvious by now, I love what's underneath more."

"Promise you'll call in the morning?"

Walter teased.

Killian paused he noticed the tinge of vulnerability, lifting his chin

"Whoever it was that didn't call you, I'll kill them, you just have to say the word."

Walter shouldn't feel so secure in his hands, so safe, this man had more than once tried to kill him, he did though, he felt as if nothing could hurt him here in this moment.

"They even called me weirdo."

"Tell me a name Beckett, I'll make sure it hurts when I end them."

He growled, there was something though in Walter's look a strange sort of expression and smile on his face.

"I already did, now...are you going to take me to bed or are we both destined to freeze in our kitchen."

Killian's heart was racing at that answer, wonder boy wasn't so perfect after all, oh, oh he was going to absolutely ravish him

"Tristan."

"Yes Beckett?"

Killian answered, face buried against his neck, biting softly at his pale flesh, Walter's hands on him, hips pressed together, feeling him, his warmth, everything.

"Make sure I still feel it In the morning...I want to ache and know it's because of you."

Ohhh Killian was more than happy to comply with his wishes he picked him up, they barely made it upstairs to Tristans room, anyone outside might fear a murder was happening, neither of them holding back, finally giving in to what had always been there, primal and urgent, aching, sating a desire that had been festering between them until the dam broke and the idea of being separated was painful, they shared themselves to the fullest, subdued and weakened by want of one another...no matter what the future held after this, after everything no matter what.

Tristan Killian Mcford belonged to Walter Beckett and Walter Beckett belonged to Tristan Killian Mcford, they were one, they could not define beginning and end between them, one breath only to be exhaled by the other.

Yes to put it simply.

They loved each other.

(Also got tipsy half way through writing this xD)

#Kilter #tristan x walter #killian x walter #Spies in disguise #Lime

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alleycatmimi · 5 years ago

Text

ઽρѳ¡ℓ૯∂ в૨ατ🍷

──────────

Kim Taehyung × reader

daddy!au

CEO!au

↬Genre: SMUT!, daddy/kitten, bdsm, themes, hard dom!taehyung, sub!reader, ceo!au;

↬WARNINGS: BDSM, spitting, cum eating (fem), spanking, eating out, over stimulation, DEGRADATION, slightly slapping, daddy/kitten kink, humilating names, Taehyung being a HARD DOM, submissive reader, swearing, unprotected sex (USE PROTECTION, U FUCKERS), fingers suck, ice play, breeding, creampie, Taehyung making you take it all like a good girl;

↬Words count: 4k+ ;

↬Description: What do you do when your boyfriend is a CEO and you are mad on him? Steal his Black Card and buy something you'll tease him later with.

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When you woke up this morning, got out of your puffy and comfy bed, dressed yourself into a smooth satin bath-robe, to go to your princess-like bathroom, where you've done your daily routine: taking a long, warm and full of aromatic bath bombs and shower gels bath, then applied your- so expensive- body care and finally dressed up to come see your boyfriend, didn't actually expect this is how your day will go.

Sitting in his office, the picnic basket you prepared for you two, thinking you will make him a really special and beautiful surprise for showing in his office, dressed into a cute and short dress which you knew he would like on you, resting on your arm, you were watching his secretary wiggling her slutty ass in front of him, while acting like picking up some files, from the clean floor tiles.

Kim Taehyung, one of the biggest CEO's this world-no, this galaxy had. A really handsome, determinated, imposing, smart, talented, stunning, kind hearted, tall, powerful and rich man. And it happened for him to be your beloved boyfriend, which was staring at his secretary ass, with a deep frown on his face, right in front of your eyes.

That's right, he didn't notice your presence yet, but you are boiling anyway. What is yours is yours and this man is DEFINETLY yours. You cleared your throat, both of them turning around to face you, the second they heard you. Taehyung eyes widened in shook to see you in his office. First, because you looked smashing and second because he knew the posture you catched him in wasn't, actually, a happy one.

As for his secretary, she was shameless smirking at you, staring straight into your eyes. "Good afternoon, miss Y/N!" she said with a forced and fake, sweet tone. You ignored her and faced Taehyung, which was scanning you from head to toe, licking his lips.

You almost rolled your eyes in annoyance. "Princess?" you heard his smooth, but deep voice. You were about to scoff, but you didn't want to show weakness in front of that bitch, who was still daring to stare at him.

"Leave us alone, Stephanie!" you demanded, on a cold, unfriendly tone. Her eyes widened in shook, but she didn't move from her place, staring at your man, who had his eyes only on you, like he should .

"I told you to get out, what are you waiting for?" you asked in annoyence, your eyes never leaving Taehyung's ones. "I don't take orders from you!" she finally said, which made you turn on your heels and stare at her. "Excuse me? I couldn't hear you?"you were so pissed off. "I only take orders from - " but you cut her off. "If I tell you to leave, you are leaving. If I tell you to stay, you stay. If I tell you to find another man to try on seducing, you will. Because this one is fucking taken. By me." you explained to her and showed her an engagement looking like ring, which you mentally thanked yourself for putting on this morning.

She nodded when she saw the "engagement" ring, bowed for you two and left the office, with a low face. Rolling your shoulders, you turned around to face the CEO. He cocked a brow at you, amusement seen on his face. "Engaged?" he asked.

You rolled your eyes. "What are you doing here, my princess?" he stared down your arm, his gaze fixed on the picnic basket. He smiled then and you swore you are gonna forget why you were mad on him if he keeps on being this beautiful. "Princess came to see her daddy? What do you have there, baby? Let daddy see."

You put the basket on his dark wooden, rigide table, a little too harsh than you initialy planned. "Here." you said and stared at him with a puzzled face. "What is it, baby?" he titled his head, trying to understand you. "Food. I prepared a picnic for us two." your tone was cold.

Taehyung's smile grew bigger and you had to look away so you won't lose your mind. "Oh! Such a good girl I have!" He swore he is the luckiest man alive. You tried to not blush, because you wanted to stay mad on him. "Let's go eat, princess."

"No."

"Pardon?" he titled his head, piercing you with his narrowed eyes. "No, you eat. I don't want to eat with you anymore, I want to go shopping." And with that you took his famous black credit card, out of his expensive leather wallet. "Have fun eating alone. Or you are lucky and maybe Stephanie is hungry too. For something else, away of your dick." you offered him your sarcasm. You didn't care anymore if he will get mad or not for you talking back to him, disrespecting your daddy, you just got out of his office, making sure to wiggle your ass while walking, your dress contouring it well.

You spent your day buying the most expensive dresses, shoes and underwear you saw and liked, not caring how much they cost, you were mad and wanted to give him a lesson. He won't mind anyway, he always spoils you in expensive stuff, treating you exactly like a princess, so you are sure he won't care about the money.

You got out of your last model, expensive, white Jeep, with your arms full of bags from the most expansive house brands. As you unlocked your house's gate, by your finger print, you passed your beautiful garden. Usually you would admire the beautiful flowers the Spring came with, but right now you were planning on something and you didn't have enough time until Taehyung will come back home.

You opened your the door with your foot, arms to busy with the bags and closed it by pushing your ass on it. Your stilettos making broken sounds on your house's tiles. Going straight to your room, you put the black credit card on the table, got out your new acquisition from the expansive bags and careful put them in your closet.

You traced the lines of a new lingerie, from a beautiful, black, square box, sogned Victoria's Secret. You smirked to yourself and went to your huge bathroom, where you prepared.

◆━━━━━━◆❃◆━━━━━━◆

Coming back home, Taehyung was only thinking about how he will teach you a lesson for being such a disrespectful girl to him, earlier that day. He loosened his tie, cracking his neck twice, thinking about how he will totally use your pretty holes just for him to fuck his angriness and stresse, caused of work, into them. He could feel a bulge already growing into his pants.

Arriving home, he opened the gate with his spare keys and headed directly to the front door and straight to your room, where he opened the door, banging it on the wall.

And there you were, wearing a beautiful pair of lingerie, slowly sipping from a glass of wine, with your red painted lips. He could take you there and then, ravaging you. But no... he wanted to make you pay for leaving him to eat alone and talking back to him.

"Hi daddy." you said, on a sweet and smooth tone, putting the glass on the night stand, with a gentle and delicate move. He watched your long legs slowly making way out of bed, your delicate feet, touching the carpet. Oh, how much he loved every detail of you...

You came closer and slowly touched his chest, moving your hands up to it, circling his neck and finally finding place in his hair. He clenched his jaw. "What happened, daddy?" you asked, rising your chin to look at him. You gasped when his firm, veiny hand wraped around your fragile neck into a tight hold. But you loved the feeling, sending a fave of heat down your core. He got closer, his eyes piercing yours.

"What happened? What happened?! Let me tell you what happened, kitten!" he said through his clenched teeth and pressed you on the wall behind you. He pressed his body on yours, his breath so close of your rose cheek, tickling the skin of it, making you almost whimper.

"Do you think you can show into my office dressed so pretty, take my card and then leave me alone?! Huh?! And even be disrespectful to me?!" he said and cupped your heat, out of suddent. Realisation hit you and you gasped, when you felt his cold hand between your tighs, even through the thin matterial of your panties.

"Already wet for me, huh?" he smirked and you looked away, blushing. "Where is the disrespectful girl now, huh?" he said and choked you harder, while his other hand pressed more, right between your folds.

"S-she's gone, d-daddy."

Taehyung tsked. "Oh she's gone now? Why, kitten? Tell me, tell daddy why." He said and let go of your heat, which earned a whine for you of the lose. "I...daddy..." you started, suddently blushing. Your plan was to tease him and show him you are the best he will ever have, but damn, he was too imposing and you were a sucker for him.

"I am listening." he said, eyes never leaving yours, hand still wrapped firmly around your neck. "I...am sorry, daddy. I was a bad girl, I didn't know what I was saying- " but he wasn't listening to you.

"Huh? Did you say something?" you thought he teased. But he was serious, titling his head, leaving you confused. "I was saying that- " but he cut you off. "I can't hear you, doll. A kitten like you should know her place, at her master's feet." Realisation hit you. Your cheeks heated up as you nodded and imediately obbeied to him, getting in all fours in front of him. His smirk grew bigger. "What were you saying, kitten?"

You took a deep breath and started again. "Daddy. I am so sorry for being a bad girl and talking back to you. Please forgive me daddy, I was a bad girl." You were giving him puppy eyes, trying to be as sweet as possible. "Yes you were." He said and cupped your jaw, with a firm hold."Go take your leash" he demanded you and you got up obeying him.

A loud sound filled the room, followed by a whimper from you, by the time his hand touched your ass cheek, into a hard spank over your skin. "Do kittens walk like humans?!" he growled. "N-No, daddy..." you said and got in all fours, crawling to the closet to get the leash and collar from the sex toys box he bought for playing with you, secretly enjoying the feeling of the burn on your ass cheek.

You turned to him with them into your mouth, he was staring at you with a huge smirk on his face. You left them at his feet and stroked your cheek on his ankle, in need for some affection. "Good girl. Now continue." You nodded your head and looked up at him. "I am sorry for getting your card, daddy. Without asking for permission." He fixed the collar and the leash on you, holding the end of it with his left hand, lifting your chin up with the other one. He caressed your lips with his thumb and you closed your eyes of the feeling, until he harshly pushed it into your mouth, without a warning. You whimpered and sucked it, without him telling you to.

"What were you doing with my credit card, brat?" His voice was low and deep. You tried to get his finger out to talk, but he kept you still. "Dadsy cwnr tak-" you mumbbled, whimpering when his thumb pressed on your tongue, caressing it.

"Oh baby, you can't talk?" He faked his affection, with an amused tone. You shook your head. "So you are not answering to daddy, disobeying again, huh?" Your eyes widened in shook when he pulled your hair with the leash hand, making you stare at him. You shook your head. "Were you shopping? Spending money on your bratty expensive ass? Got this slutty lingerie for me?" You nodded every time, his hand tightening around your hair, you whimpered once more. "Get the receipt to me, slutty kitten."

You tried to nod, but couldn't with his hand in your hair, nor talk with his thumb in your mouth so you shameless moaned. "Pathetic." He said and let go of you. You crawled and took the receipt as you did with the leash and collar. He went to the bed, where he sat on, pulling you with him, by the leash. "Sit!" He demanded and you did so. He looked through the prices and shook his head. "Such a spoiled kitten you are..." he smirked and pulled you into his lap, on stomach. You gasped in shook, but your stomach flipped with excitment.

"You should be teached a lesson. Hands at your back, my little whore." You did as he said so. Next thing you knew, he ripped off your expansive panties. You whined and he smirked, once more. "Don't worry, little whore, daddy's gonna buy you many of these."he announced and stared to caress your ass.

"Count for me." You wanted to reply but a loud smack filled the room, you jumped in place. "O-one"

Smack.

"T-two"

Smack.

"T-Three..." every smack was harder and harder, he was finally letting his anger out.

Smack!

"F-four- ah fuck!" You said and tried to make yourself a ball, but he threw one of his tighs over the back of your knees, imobilising you. "Take it all, whore." He hissed into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. After ten smacks, your ass was fully red and sore and you were breathing hard.

He then pulled your hair again, throwing your head back. "Tell me kitten, why do I punish you right now?" he was so hot. You gulped "f-for being a bad girl, daddy...". He seemed to be pleased with your answer "Good. Now I want you to get on bed, ass up like a good kitten,for daddy to see your pretty cunt, yeah?" You nodded in excitment and did as you were told to, bruisy ass fully on display, glisstering pussy tempting him to fuck you. But that had to wait, because right now, he had other plans.

"Shake your ass for me, sweetheart". You obeied him once more, wiggling your ass in front of him. Then without expecting, you were pushed down on bed, Taehyung's face burried into your wet pussy. A loud moan escaped your lips, as he started sucking hard on your sensitive clit, enjoying the softness of it. "Mmm... sweet" he informed you. Then he started lapping at your wetness, eating you out like a starved man, teasing your sweet hole with his skilled tongue, circling it but never entering it all, leaving it clenching around nothing and moving his tongue to give your folds and clit multiple licks.

You were so close, your moanings filling the walls, but you knew he is not gonna let you cum, at least not yet. But he was making it so hard because when he pushed his long tongue into your warm hole, all at once, your body almost jerked in front, if it wasn't for his firm hold around your ass cheeks, keeping you opened for himself.

"Mgh...d-daddy.." you were pathetically moaning his name over and over again. If you weren't so lost into the feeling of his tongue moving inside your cunt, caresing your walls, you would feel him smirking against your heat. Another spanck filled the room, same time with a deeper push of his tongue. You almost screamed in pain in pleasure, because he spanked a bruise he left on you. But he didn't caress your abused cheek but only srubbed it with his nails, sending you pver the edge, with a muffled cry, tears fillinng up your vision.

But he sensed you were about to cum so, after a long and hard suck on your pussy, while your body was trembling from the need or releasing, he got up and pulled your hair harsh, snapping your head back, to look at him. "Oh kitten, look at yourself, drolling and crying over my pillow. Poor baby... you are so dirty." But his expression was saying something else. He enjoyed it, he enjoyed how fucked up he got you and it took only his tongue and some spanking to turn you like this.

You whimpered, needy." What happened, whore? Cat got your tongue?" Then he laughed on his own joke, a low, hoarse, hot laugh. You shooked your head. "Then? What is it with you and whimpering? Is this all what you know to do?" You shooked your head and he chuckled. A dark one.

"Stick it out then and prove me." You sticked your tongue out, blushing harder. He licked his lips. "Look such a pretty and pink tongue we have here, babydoll." You blushed even more. He caressed it with his thumb. "Maybe I should give it a treat, then?" You nodded your head and whimpered, eyes begging. You could already imagine his thick and fat cock into your mouth, the cum running down your neck. You were dripping down your sheets.

"Ok then, but keep it out." But he got down again and gave your pussy another fully and harsh suck, making you scream, almost biting your tongue. He collected all your juices and came back to you. He spit your juices into your mouth and you closed your eyes. Ok, this was definetly new. But seems like you enjoyed it, the taste of yourself making you moan. You swallowed it, like a good girl.

"Show me." You sticked your tongue out, jumping and whinning when he slapped it, not hard but hard enough to send another wave of heat straight to your core. He titled his head. "So you enjoy it, huh?" You nodded, looking away. "Are you shy now?!" He cupped your jaw and turned your face, a little harsh. "Look at me when I talk to you, brat." He slapped your tongue again and you moaned. "Tell me how much you love it!" And he let out a sexy laugh when you patheticaly tried to said it with your pulsing tongue sticked out.

"Are you my sex toy?" He asked you, kissing your tongue, giving it a slightly suck. You moaned a yes into kiss mouth and leaned closer, wanting to kiss him so bad. Surprisingly... he didn't pull away and gave you a huge and wet kiss, carresing your tongue with his, massaging it slowly and exploring all the corners of your mouth. Even his kiss was fire, he was completly dominating you. When he pulled away, you had your red lipstick all over your mouth and chin, his lips red as well.

"Such a pretty mess..." he said and smiled. It melted your heart. "Tae- " but his smile faded away and your bruised ass earned three painful smack, in the same place, making the skin almost bleeding. "How did you call me?"

"D-daddy...." you cried out, tears rolling down your cheeks. "P-pwease..."

"Please what?" He was trailing his fingers up and down your wetness, teasing and driving you crazy. "F-fuck m-me" you whispered. He stared at you, amusment written on his face. "What did you say?"

"Fuck me..." you repeated. He leaned back, face close to your ear, where he blowed hot air, making you whimper and squirm in place. "You want me to fuck you? Can you even take it? I don't think do kitten, it would be a shame for you to not be able to take my fat cock with your tight wortless count."

You had to addmit it...he was treating you with no respect and you were more than ready to do everything for him. "Daddy please! I will take it all! Just please put that fat cock inside of my worthless pussy. Daddy, make me your kitten..." you were a whimpering, begging mess under his hot stare. He was satisfied. "Is that so?" You felt him getting off of the bed, your face burried into the pillow, your tied hands resting by the navel of your spine, your expensive bra still on. You felt his hia hot breathe on your skin again, your body tensing once more.

He grabbed your hip with one hand, rubbing the head of his cock on your wet and sticky cunt. You shivered of the feeling, goosebumps spreading on your skin. He was rock hard but still wanted to tease you as much as possible. "Will you let me fuck you like this, doll?" He trailed an ice cube down your spine, making you yelp. "Like a little bitch? Breeding you like dogs do it with them? Or like my good kitten?" The ice cube was slowly melting on your heated skin, you hissed in pain when it touched the bruised skin of your ass. Then you screamed when he pushed it into your tight hole, the feeling making you close your thighs in annoyence and fall on one side.

But it didn't take long for him to spank you again, on your tighs too this time. "Get up!" Your body was trembling, tears streaming down your face, but you got up somehow. "I-I...daddy, please, fuck me like a bitch. Give me your pups, breed me as yours, or fuck me like your dumb little kitten."

"That's my girl!" He exclaimed, a pleased smirk on his face. You screamed once, when, without a warning, he snapped his hips into you, with a hard and fast move, burrying all of his long lenght inside of you. "Fuck, baby!" He cursed, under his breath and started to roll his hips, his lenght still inside of you, pocking your walls, in circles, making you see stars and moan his name many times. But you needed more and as if he heard you, he pulled back and left only his tip inside, then snapped back with a same hard move as before, making your eyes roll back in pleasure. His grunts fill up the room, as well as your subbmissive moans, his hands pushing you harder to meet his own.

His head was reaching your pelvic, by every push he was making inside of you, you felt closer and closer. His moans and curses started to grow louder and louder, making your whinny and breathless moans so tiny beside his. "M-m c-close " you managed to whimper. His hand wrapped around your throat once more than night, your vission getting blurry, your head going light, and a hard and fast snap of his hips sent you over the edge. He left out an animalistic like deep growl, rolling his hips once more, since your cunt's muscles were spasming around him, making it hard to move.

You cummed all over his cock, screaming his name so loud "D-Daddy! Ahh!!" You were seeing stars, mumbling words only you could understand, body relaxing after the wave of pleasure that washed over you. But you couldn't relax either, because Taehyung's moves fastened, making you squirm in place. "C-can't ...s-stop!"

But he only smashed your ass once more, making you cry again. "Thought you said you can take my cock now, kitten, what happened now?" You bit down on the pillow, making it full of red lipstick and wet of your tears, while your boyfriend was using you as his personal fuck toy. "Don't you want my warm cum filling your walls? Don't you want me to breed you" he groaned, rolling his eyes back of you squeezing him once more "to make you my little bitch?Take it all, like good girls do!"

You moaned a yes, feeling your second orgasm, he pulled you on your knees and hugged you at his chest, one hand around your waist, the other one having his fingers stuffed into your mouth, which you sucked like a desparate slut, feeling the taste of your own cum once more, you pushed yourself hard on him, meeting his hips.

"Shit! Yes, baby! Do it again!" And you did so, once, twice, until his cum filled your walls, sending you through another orgasm. He kept you close at his chest until his cock stopped twitching inside of you. He slowly pulled it back and watched the cum dripping down your thighs. "Such a beautiful creampie...." you were almost sleeping so he kissed your shoulder and laid you on your stomach, avoiding your bruised ass. He untied your hands and got some wet tissues to clean you both. After that he hugged you at his chest, kissing the top of your head and smiling bright.

"I love you, kitten..."

♤

Author's note: @taesluttt sorry for waiting, was supposed to post it yesterday but couldn't stop adding more and more 😅 hope you enjoy it!!!

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

82, Sternclay, NSFW if possible? Ty so much for all your great fics <3 -☀️

You’re welcome! I hope you enjoy the fill. It’s NSFW, and involves mating cycles, because my A03 stats suggest a lot of y’all like that.

82. you knock on my door at 2 in the morning because your very white cat got out and you need help trying to find them in the three feet of snow we have

He has no one but himself to blame.

Stern is always so careful about shutting the doors in this cabin, as the old hinges and worn frames can send them swinging open when coupled with a strong wind. He thought he had that same care when he came in with more firewood from the basement, which can only be accessed through by going out of the house and then down to the locked door.

Apparently not. At one, he went to check on Yeti and found the back door open and the faintest shape of feline paws leading into the darkness.

They’ve got two feet of snow on the ground, with another foot forecasted to fall by morning. And Yeti is sleek and snow-white.

He’s wandered the perimeter of the house, left her favorite blanket out on the covered porch, and tried in vain to follow the tracks, filled in by the falling snow. He’s been outside for an hour now, with no sign of her. Not even the jingle of her collar in the cold air. He’s shivering, but he can’t stop the search; Yeti is out here, cold and scared and it’s all his fault.

As he’s crunching through the snow, warm light spills onto the trees. His neighbors (a loose term out here) house. He couldn’t stand waking Barclay up to help him, but if he’s already awake…

Stern raps on the door, and four seconds later it opens, his neighbor looking like a lumberjack centerfold given life, even in his sweatpants and brown sweater.

“Joe? Is something wrong?”

“It’s Yeti, she got out without me noticing and I can’t find her, I’ve been out here an hour and there’s no sign. I, um, I know it’s a stretch but can you help me look for her? We can cover more ground that way.”

Barclay gives a small, worried smile as he nods, “Yeah, of course, lemme get enough on so that I don’t freeze and I’ll join you.”

He waves Stern inside, passes him a box of tissues before disappearing upstairs. Here he’d hoped the tears from his brief panic and self-blame spiral hadn’t left evidence. He’s good in a crisis, has handled much more stressful incidents with grace and calm. But for some reason every time he musters up those emotions, gult rips them to shreds. Yeti is his to look after, he’s supposed to keep her safe, and one careless move has her out in the woods, in freezing weather, with predators, or thin ice, or, or, or-

His brain is excellent at generating contingency plans on the fly, but tonight it directs that ability to making him think about all the bad things his error could cause.

“Okay, got my headlamp so I can keep my hands free. You got a light?”

Joe holds up his flashlight.

“C’mon, let’s go find the Yeti.” They set off side by side in the snow, “where do you want to look?”

“Fan out near the creek, I think. The snow isn’t as deep there, so she might have gone that way because it was easier to move.”

“She’s a climber, right? So how about this; we go on either side of the creek, you look on the ground and I’ll look in the trees?”

“That makes sense.”

It’s slow going, both of them being meticulous, shining their lights on every branch or under every bush. Stern’s always appreciated how careful Barclay is; he assumes it comes with a profession where being messy slows you down, but the first time he saw his well-organized kitchen his heart did a little dance of delight.

In the month and a half he’s lived here, the cook invites him over at least twice a week to try out a recipe. He works at Amnesty Lodge in the nearby town of Kepler, and spends some of his nights there. Still, he’s at his cabin often enough that Stern’s been able to invite him over some evenings. Though it’s odd he’s up so late on a work night.

“Do you not have to go in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m taking this week off. I have some vacation time and when I get back it’ll be the holiday break rush until New Years. I got caught up in the latest Agent X novel and didn’t see how late it was until you knocked. How about you, staying up researching again?”

“Yes. I was trying to keep the fire going because it’s nice to work in that little living room but, um, going out to get the wood is how she got out. If I’d just gone to bed-”

“Whoah, hey, none of that.” Barclay stops, turning to face him, “shit happens, even when you’re careful. This isn’t your fault, Joe.”

“I know. It still feels that way.” He starts forward again, feet freezing in spite of his snowboots (chosen for optimal weight to insulation ratio). Part of him wants to keep talking, because Barclay is interesting to talk to, his years playing “Lodge dad” giving him endless anecdotes and the ability to be honest without being cruel.

It helps that his baritone voice makes Stern think of brown sugar; rich, complex, just the right kind of sweet.

After a solid hour of searching, Stern is so cold he’s having trouble getting words out. Barclay sets a big hand on his shoulder, guiding them towards Sterns cabin.

“Joe, you’ve gotta take a break. Worried your lips are gonna go as blue as your eyes, and then tonight will really suck.”

“But I haven’t found her.”

“And you won’t if you freeze to death or get so chilled you can’t think straight. At least sleep for a few hours.”

Stern’s about to protest as they reach the door, but then his knees buckle and he slumps against a broad chest.

“I’ll do one more spin into the deeper woods on my way home, and leave some blankets out on the porch in case she makes her way to me. She’s smart, just like her owner; I think she’ll get home okay.”

“Right. Okay. We’ll be okay.”

Barclay hesitates mid motion, then pulls Stern into a hug. Stern is not small, and at Six feet zero inches he’s used to being the tallest person in a room. Barclay always feels like he’s dwarfing him, though right now that’s the most comforting sensation in the world.

“I’ll check by in the morning.”

“Thank you, for everything.” He mumbles into Barclay’s scarf.

“Any time, Joe.”

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

Barclay waits until Joe is inside and the upstairs light switches on to leave the back porch. God, it’s so fucking cold tonight. He doesn’t blame Yeti for getting curious, but she could’ve picked a less awful time to do it.

He’s glad the other man came to him for help; he hates the idea of Joe out here alone and stressed, searching carefully and kicking himself the whole time. He’s glad Joe took the suggestion to sleep.

He’s glad the other man came to be his neighbor.

Ironically, they’d met when Joe came over and asked to borrow a cup of sugar. The dark-haired man was short on what he needed to cook, and Barclay was happy to supply it. It’s not everyday a cute guy asked him for some sugar.

They ran across each other in town, and Joe even came to eat at the Lodge, usually at off hours where Barclay had a chance to talk. That’s how he learned Joe was here to research a recent Bigfoot sighting.

“I used to be in the FBI, investigating the same thing. Then I got so frustrated, no one really believed in the possibility of unknown creatures, and the few who did saw them as having some sort of use to the department of defense. Great idea, find something so rare it’s existence is unproven, and then lock it away or blow it up.” The sip of coffee is more aggressive than usual.

“Won’t they get mad if you spill their secrets?” It was only half a joke.

“I doubt it. They weren’t too interested in my theories when I worked there; odds are they’ll keep an eye on me a little while and then ignore me. Unless I find Bigfoot, of course, in which case they may want me back. I’m not interested, from now on I monster hunt in the name of science.”

Barclay hopes Stern never finds Bigfoot and stays in his cabin, writing and researching and consulting and coming over to Barclay’s for dinner twice a week. He has a whole menu in his mind titled, “foods for seducing Joe” that he’s going to whip out in the next few weeks, he swears it.

He’s been swearing it for two weeks.

Joe is sophisticated, smart, has really good taste in books and food, and Barclay feels so listened to when they talk. Barclay starts blushing whenever Joe smiles at him, which would be embarrassing except Joe does the same thing whenever Barclay drops his voice a little. Besides, he likes it when Joe smiles.

Barclay would give anything to make Joe smile tonight. Which is why he’s tromping into the spot where they lost the last of Yeti’s footprints. He stands, listening for any sign of human life.

Then he slips the woven bracelet off his hand, and his foot-prints almost double in size.

It’s a bad idea, he’s not all that far from other houses or the road, but in this form his sense of smell is twice as strong and his night-vision a bit sharper. It’s also the reason he’s taking this week off work. Yes, he likes to rest up before the winter rush; but his heat, which comes ever fourteen years, is due in the next few days. He’s actually a little worried turning into his Sylph self will make his brain fuzzy enough to forget his mission. So he reminds himself, as he tromps through the growing blizzard, that he is doing this for the person he’d most like to impress in this world, and that does the trick.

A whiff of the same, non-human scent he stole a noseful of when hugging Joe catches his attention. He follows it to a disused burrow, gets down on his belly, and finds reflective eyes blinking back at him.

The animal hisses.

“Man, please be Yeti and not a bobcat. Duck’s gonna fucking kill me if I harass the wildlife.” He reaches into the burrow and hears a telltale jingle. Yeti, surrendering to her fate, goes limp in his hold. When he puts her against his chest she chirps, curiously sniffing him. As soon as the bracelet is on she blinks once, then purrs as he bundles her into his coat. She’s cold and damp, but she’s in one piece.

“C’mon cousin, let’s get you home.”

The lights are all still one, and the front door is wedged open the exact amount a cat would need to get inside. He steps in, kicks the wedge free and shuts the door. The fire is low, and there’s no sound of anyone moving around.

“Joe? Whoa, careful Yeti, I know you wanna get warm but we should show him your okay.”

“Mew!” Yeti bites the fringe of his scarf.

He tries again, “Joe, you still up? Got someone for you?”

A scuff and groan from the kitchen, “Huh? Oh, shit, I fell asleep, one second”

Yeti shifts her focus while Barclay is distracted. In one graceful leap she rips his bracelet away, lands, and bounds to the kitchen.

“Yeti! Thank the lord, there you are my little cryptid, I was so worried about you, don’t ever do that again, thank god you’re okay.” Joe’s voice goes muffled, as if he’s holding the cat to his face and talking into her fur. Barclay is frozen, not wanting to be seen but even less wanting to have Joe spot Bigfoot dashing into the trees.

“What do you have--Yeti, it’s rude to take things from the man who saved you from being-” Joe rounds the corner, cat in his arms, and gasps. Yeti, uninterested in the unfolding drama, tumps to the floor and scampers upstairs. Joe’s hands fly over his mouth the instant she’s no longer in them.

“Hey” Barclay waves.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m, uh, I’m Bigfoot.”

“What the fuck?” Joe isn’t moving, and Barclay decides now is his best chance.

“I’m just, uh, gonna go get my bracelet back.”

“No, you’re going to explain everything.”

“I really, really can’t, some of it isn’t mine to explain. I mean, uh, I can explain some bits later-” He creeps toward the stairs. Joe steps in front of him.

“Barclay, this can’t wait. You, you’ve been him the whole time, my entire world view is simultaneously being proven and flipped over, would you please just talk to me?”

“Mew?” Yeti is halfway down the stairs, watching them with the bracelet still in her mouth. Without breaking eye contact, Joe reaches up and out, plucking it from her teeth.

“You’re not getting this back until you explain.”

“Babe, please, I promise we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“No, wait, what did you call me?”

“Uhhhh” Barclay lunges for the bracelet instead of answering. Stern twists out of the way, sprinting for the kitchen. Barclay gets an arm around his waist and yanks backwards, sending them both over the back of the couch. Joe elbows him and scrambles up. Barclay only just manages to block him from going up the stairs, stalks him back onto the rug and tackles him. It succeeds in bringing the man down and keeping him pinned.

It also sends the bracelet flying onto the floor, where Yeti snatches it up and disappears up the staircase.

Barclay realizes he’s growling, stops so that he won’t frighten Joe, only for it to start up again as a reflex.

“Barclay, I swear, if you hurt my cat-”

“I won’t, I, that’s what not that noise is for. Or, uh, I mean I’m pissed you played keep-away with something I need, but I also have some bad news about Sy--uh, Bigfoot biology. Uh, so, first thing: I have a heat, which is why I was trying to stay away from people. Second thing: my kind uses a very intense game of, uh, chase as part of courtship.”

Stern shifts his thigh, “That explains what I’m feeling.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Look, can you go get the bracelet and then we can, like, have some tea and talk about this? I’m sorry, I feel so bad for making you deal with this.” The growl rumbles up again. He gears up another apology when he notices Joe’s blue eyes getting wider.

“Is this, um, only because of your heat? I mean, if you tackled some passerby, would the same thing be happening?”

“No.” Barclay squeaks.

“Then I’m not seeing how this is a bad thing, big guy.” He grinds his thigh up, making Barclay yip and pin him to the rug while touching as little of him as possible.

“Joe, this doesn’t make me like, mindless or anything, but if you say you want this you are signing up for several days of as much fucking as I can manage.”

“I don’t have any deadlines.” Joe’s eyes remain fixed on Barclays crotch.

“I’m serious, if you say stop I will, but if you don’t you won’t be able to get out of bed for days. And, uh, I can put my disguise back on, you don’t have to fuck me like this, I know it’s weird.”

“Barclay, I built my life’s work on weird.” Joe pets his arm.

“Yeah but not on fucking it.”

“How do you know? Lots of my time with the UP is classified.”

“Joe…” it’s a warning, the heat in his brain suggesting a dozen things to do so the human can’t be touched by another cryptid ever again.

“I want you, Barclay. In both forms. As long as you promise we’ll talk after, I’m okay with doing this first.”

“I promise”

“Good, because otherwise I was going out to see if there’s another bigfoot in the area who was interested.” Joe smiles, moves to pull off his shirt. He doesn’t get to; Barclay snarls possessively and drops onto him, biting his neck and ripping his clothing into a flurry of fabric scraps. The human moans, gasps when Barclay makes short work of his own pants and reveals what’s waiting beneath. Barclay doesn’t give him time to process, shoves his legs as far apart as they’ll go, and finally sinks into him.

“JesusfuckingCHRIST, ohfuck, ohmyfuckinggodAH!”

His cock is more thick than long, splitting the human open while bottoming out on every thrust. Joe’s fingers knot into the rug, his words morph into sharp, ecstatic sounds. Every creature in the forest can probably hear him.

Barclay clamps his hand down over the humans mouth, “shut up babe, don’t want anyone else in the woods getting any ideas about how good a fuck you are. You’re fucking mine.”

A muffled moan and, when he pulls his hand back, “Y-you really think I, fuck, I can keep quiet when you fuck me like this?”

“Thought they taught FBI agents discipline” he drags his claws across Joe’s chest, relishing the shaky, happy noise that gets him.

“There’s discipline and, AAHnnn, there’s inhuman restraint.”

Barclay slams the hand down again and growls, pleased, when Joe’s posture turns submissive.

“Here’s the deal; you keep quiet and take it like a good mate, and after I cum in you, can be as loud as you fucking want, because anyone who gets near you’ll know belong to me. I mean” he jerks his hips, “they’ll be able to tell that from the fact I’m balls-deep in you too, babe.”

Joe nods, replaces Barclays hand with his own as the Sylph hooks his knees over his shoulders. The next minute goes in a heat haze, his brain and body united in the desire to cum in Joe, to claim him, while the human stifles his screams and grows slicker with each thrust.

He tips his head back with a howlgrowlpurr as he cums, leaving faint clawmarks in Joe’s legs as he holds them open to make sure he takes every bit.

“Lord almighty” Joe’s hand falls to the floor, “that, that was amazing, why on earth were you acting like this isn’t something I’d waaAAAAAntohgod.” He whimpers as Barclay starts up again, fucking his cum up into him.

“Shoulda known you’d like it; you’re perfect, Joe.”

A blush and a shy moan, and he leans down to kiss him gently.

“You are. You’re the perfect man, the perfect mate, and we are gonna have so much fucking fun together.”

“And fun fucking?” He looks pleased with the wordplay.

He snorts, “Glad to know that sense of humor sticks around when I’m filling you up, oh, ohfuckyeah” another orgasm hits, milder this time.

“Are they near constant when you’re in heat?” Joe eyes the trail of cum sliding back down Barclay’s cock.

“No, just easy to have. So” he flips the human over, squeezing his ass appreciatively, “let’s try it from behind this time; wanna find out how it feels to cum in you while I get you off.” He slips his hand over Joe’s thigh and between his legs, “and you better fucking do it too, of I’ll drag you outside and fuck you against a tree so anyone passing by can see how fucking eager you are for me.”

“Please, we’ve spent so much time outside tonight.”

He thinks as kisses along Joe’s shoulders, “You’re right. I’ll fuck you against the door instead.”

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

When Stern wakes up, snow is falling in the grey light and his clock reads 2:30 P.M. Downstairs there’s a homey clink of pots and pans, and the smell of coffee winds it’s way to him.

He fell asleep around five, he thinks, when the cumulative exhaustion of his day overpowered the thrill of being with Barclay. Honestly, he’d have kept going, but Barclay was adamant he rest. So they finished with him fucking Stern’s slack, sleepy mouth, before the cryptid bundled him into bed and snuggled up to him with those deep, rumbling purrs that Stern now loves.

The bracelet is gone from the nightstand (Yeti didn’t eat it, thank god), so the chef must be making breakfast in his human form. Now would be a good time to go down and talk.

“Mew” A weight lands on his chest as Yeti kneads the blankets, purring when he reaches you and rubs her head.

“You know, little monster, this almost makes the heart attack you gave me worth it.”

“Mew?” The cat stares hopefully out the windows.

“Not a chance. I can’t take that stress again. Besides” he scoops her up, “we need to unbox that new toy I ordered. Barclay and I need some time to ourselves today.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #winter fills #taz amnesty

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dreamwritesimagines · 6 years ago

Text

Faint Of Heart 25- Enemies [Ivar x Reader]

A.N.: I love your feedback so much, it makes my day ❤️ Please keep it coming, kisses! ❤️

Summary: Pretending is difficult.

Characters: Ivar x Reader, Ubbe x Torvi, Hvitserk, Bjorn

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of violence and blood, mentions of sex and arranged marriage, please read with care. Also, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the messed up stuff happening on the show or in here.

Word Count: 4630

Due to the linking issue, previous chapters are in my masterlist! ❤️

Gif’s not mine!

“I’m sorry, let me repeat this-“ Bree frowned at you, “He said you may return to how you used to be?”

“Yes.”

“Is that how Vikings apologize?”

“Ivar doesn’t apologize,” you mumbled and hushed Eitr who flapped her wings angrily the second she heard Ivar’s name. You ran your fingers over her soft feathers before you pressed your lips over her wing in an attempt to calm her down, and she snuggled closer to your hair for a moment before she started flying in the room.

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“Nothing happened. I closed the door and went to bed.”

Then cried until the sunrise.

“You haven’t forgiven him then?”

You swallowed thickly, then shrugged, “I don’t think I ever will be able to forgive him.”

Bree heaved a sigh, “If it’s any consolation, he’s suffering as well.”

“No he’s not.”

“Well, let’s just say you haven’t seen him this morning.”

You dragged your glances from Eitr to Bree, who was sitting up in your bed, “What?”

“I’ve seen how he was, when we first got there,” Bree said, “It’s almost as if I’m looking at a different man.”

“But promise me one day you will.”

Ivar groaned, dropping his head to your neck for one moment, his breath tickling your skin before he raised his head again.

“You’re not serious, little shark.”

“I’m very serious!”

“You want me to take you, to an actual battle?”

“Yes!” You insisted and Ivar raised his brows,

“For some reason, I don’t think you’d like that.”

“Torvi goes to battles with Ubbe!”

“Torvi can also lift a sword to put it through someone’s chest.”

“That’s just one small detail.” You muttered, and Ivar licked his lips.

“I thought you got sick at the sight of blood.”

“Another detail.”

“Also, you cannot have baths for days during battle.”

“Another detail.”

“That sounds like too many details.”

“Very insignificant details, if I may add.”

Ivar heaved a sigh, pushing your hair off your face, “Are you not forgetting one very significant detail though?”

“What?”

“I’d lose the battle if you were there.”

You pulled your brows together, “How come?”

“You cannot be enchanted during battle,” he shot you a mischievous look and you giggled, shifting slightly under him,

“So unless you’d like to be widowed at this young age-“

Your smile disappeared from your lips in a second, “Ivar, don’t even jest about that.”

“I’m just saying, in a battle-“

“No, don’t say that,”

He pulled back slightly to look at you better, his frown mirroring yours, “It would be the most glorious death. To ascend me to Valhalla-“ he was cut off when you pushed him slightly to sit up, leaning your back to the headboard.

“Is that what you’re trying to do then? In battles?”

He rolled his eyes, “Y/N-“

“Are you?”

“I’m not trying to die,” he heaved a sigh, “I’m merely saying that’s a possibility.”

A silence fell upon you as you tried to blink back the tears, and he raised your chin slightly, a smile pulling at his lips,

“Why? Would you mourn for me?”

“Ivar, I would suffer for the rest of my life,” the confession left your lips, “Is that what you want to do? To make me suffer?”

His eyes searched yours, then he shook his head, his thumb tracing your cheekbone,

“No,” his voice was soft, “I would suffer if you did.”

“Ivar does not suffer,” you stated as you snapped out of the memory, shaking your head, “It’s always me who suffers.”

Bree fell into silence for a moment, “You’ll understand when you see him. So-um, Bjorn spoke to me.”

You pulled your brows together, “About what?”

“Me. Staying.”

Your head snapped up, “Did he?”

“He made very-ehm, very valid points.”

“Oh, such as what?” you grinned at her, “Or don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. Or wait no- tell me, I want to know- is it very scandalous? Have you been to his- Gods, Bree, have you?”

Bree grinned at you, “Have I what?”

“Have you done…” you motioned at her, “You know.”

“What?”

“I swear you’re worse than Ivar- have you been um… seduced?”

She let out a laugh, “Oh seduced, that’s what you call it here?”

“Bree!”

“We haven’t seduced each other…thoroughly, if that’s what you mean,” she stated, “Just empty hallway kisses and whispers, I feel as if I am a maiden again.”

“But has he convinced you?”

Bree’s smile faded slightly, “Y/N…”

“Bree, wouldn’t you want to stay for him?”

“We barely know each other, my sweet.”

“Fine, wouldn’t you want to stay here for me?”

That got her silent and you swallowed thickly,

“Today is their last meeting.”

“I know.”

“So he- you- he will be leaving soon.”

“I know that too,” Bree shook her head, “Let us not speak of such things. Did you give Inkeri her kitten?”

“Gala has. Um- she told her Freyja sent it.”

Bree smiled, “And?”

“I wish I were there to see it, Gala says she was very happy and hugged her,” you felt emotional for some reason, and you frowned at yourself, “Anyway, I should be in the Great Hall, walk with me?”

Bree nodded and followed you as you walked out of your bedchambers, with Eitr flying behind you. She had gotten used to flying behind you in the last couple of days, as if she knew how vulnerable you felt without her by your side.

You stopped as soon as you entered the Great Hall, your eyes falling on the table where Ivar, Ubbe and Bjorn were sitting by, and all of a sudden, you were distracted from the usual crowd of the hall.

Oh.

That was what Bree had meant.

Ivar didn’t even look like he was aware of anything that was happening around him, his Earls, his warriors, even his brothers. His head hung low, his fingertips touching each other with a cup of ale remaining untouched by his right hand.

Eitr flew by your shoulder to circle the hall, and Ivar’s head shot up upon hearing the flap of wings, his eyes searching the crowd almost frantically to find you. Bjorn stood up from his chair to walk to you and Bree, and you hardly noticed him brushing his hand to Bree’s as he walked past her, and Bree muttering some excuse to follow him out of the hall, while you stared at Ivar.

He looked almost as bad as you felt. His eyes were bloodshot, and he didn’t look like he had any sleep –or food- since last night, but you forced yourself to drag your glances away from him as someone his throat beside you.

Hvitserk.

“He doesn’t look very happy, does he?” he mused and you gawked at him,

“You- you’re back?”

“You could say that.”

“Where have you been the last couple of days?”

“I was staying with Floki,” he sipped his drink, “Heartbreak doesn’t look as good on him as it does on you, huh?”

You scoffed, “Ivar doesn’t get heartbroken, Hvitserk.”

Hvitserk only raised his brows “Apparently he does,” he said, “Don’t get me wrong, you made the right decision. It was about time you hurt him back.”

“How do you know I hurt him?”

He rolled his eyes, “He’s miserable, how else?” he said “Come on. We should go.”

“Go where?”

“Map room. Last meeting, that’s why I came- well, was summoned back. We should uh… not let see your brother see any fall outs, or something, I honestly don’t listen to any of this nonsense anymore.”

Oh.

So in return of you learning heartbreak from him, Ivar had learned some court business from you.

Bjorn entered the hall again, ignoring your slight grin and nodded at the map room,

“Let’s go.”

“How’s Bree?” you whispered to him as you caught up with his long strides and he looked down at you,

“She says she’s considering.”

“That’s a good sign.”

“I guess so.”

“It is a big decision but I’m confident-“

“Sister,” Edgard said as soon as you walked into the room and both Hvitserk and Bjorn took their seats. You hesitated only for a moment before you took your seat next to Ivar, feeling his body tense up beside yours.

It was strange, really. It used to be much, much easier to pretend. But now, sitting there next to him, your hands resting on the table but not touching each other, it almost hurt just how much you couldn’t pretend.

For once, you couldn’t snap back into years of court education.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I’m still a little sick, I’m afraid.”

Edgard raised his brows, “Ivar?”

“I’m sick as well,” Ivar’s voice was almost hoarse, as if he had been yelling for hours.

“Perhaps it’s contagious.”

“No, it’s just Kattegat’s weather.” Ubbe commented and Ivar nodded.

“Probably. One moment warm and one moment ice cold.”

You narrowed your eyes, clenching your teeth.

Good. He was catching up with the court language as well.

“It was long coming, Ivar.” You stated, “Perhaps you should have prepared yourself.”

Ivar turned his head to look at you, but Edgard cleared his throat.

“So the last decisions,” Edgard said, “We get these two towns, and you get the coast, and these three.” He motioned at the map, “And what did we say? Quarter of the expenses of warrior’s families-“

“Half,” you corrected him, “We said half.”

“Fine, half. But we get the half of the treasury and gold, no matter who claims the towns. Anything else?”

“You pay our army’s expenses as well.” You reminded him and he made a face, then turned to Ivar.

“Then it’s settled,” he motioned at the men to bring the parchment and the ink pot along with the quills, but the scent of ink was too strong for some reason, which made your stomach flip. Ivar and your brother signed it, and your brother heaved a sigh, standing up.

“Well then, we will be leaving tomorrow. It was a pleasure,” he looked at you up and down “I’m sure you two want to catch up, seeing I barely saw you two together the last couple of days.”

The whole room started spinning but you clenched your teeth and smiled at him calmly, while trying your hardest not to vomit. Your brother and his men left the room, and after a look from Bjorn, Ubbe and Hvitserk followed him outside, leaving you and Ivar alone.

You slipped a little away from him, still trying to control yourself and took a deep breath,

“Are you alright?”

You closed your eyes for a moment, pursing your lips together before looking up into his red rimmed eyes,

“We should probably wait a little-“

“Are you alright though?” Ivar insisted and you nodded slowly,

“I am,” you swallowed thickly, “Are you?”

Ivar shrugged slightly, averting his eyes as if he didn’t know what to say, “Sure. Why would I not be?”

You nodded slowly, thinking about how long you would have to stay here for it to be convincing, and trying to guess whether you could stand up without falling, seeing that you still felt nauseous.

“Thank you, for…” he motioned at the door, “For coming. I- I didn’t think you would.”

“It’s a matter of Kattegat your grace. Not my feelings.”

Ivar pressed his lips together, nodding slowly.

“They’re leaving tomorrow then.”

“Should be easier, for both of us.”

“Why?”

“We’re pretending as if-“ you shrugged slightly, “It was easier before….everything. Back then I thought we could- you could…”

“What?”

“Back then I hoped that we could be in love,” you let out a bitter laugh, “It was easier to pretend back then.”

Ivar swallowed thickly, “But I-“ he hesitated, his eyes searching yours before he took a shaky breath, “You have no reason to worry, it should be easier, with me gone.”

“Gone?”

“I will leave for this raid to Dorestad as soon as I regain Freyja’s favor,” he licked his lips, “Bjorn says maybe you need your solitude.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know how long it will last.” Ivar nodded, “You will have a lot of time I’d say. Until we start… pretending again.”

“Perhaps we shouldn’t,” the words left your mouth before you could control yourself, making your nausea worse, and Ivar frowned,

“What?”

“We keep pretending, since I got here,” your voice was low, “No I’ve- I’ve been pretending for my whole life, and I dragged you into this, I made you pretend as if-“

“As if what?”

“As if we could ever be more than enemies,” you whispered, “As if we forgot the truth.”

Ivar blinked a couple of times,

“Enemies?” he asked silently, “That is what I am to you now? Your enemy?”

“Honestly?” You swallowed the bile climbing up to your throat, “I don’t know anymore.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“So perhaps we should not pretend anymore. I- it gets tiring, and very heartbreaking, and you’re right, I fall for my own deceptions, and I can’t anymore, I’m too-“ you shook your head, “I can’t anymore. I do wish you a good raid but when you come back, perhaps it’s better if we didn’t… Pretend. My parents did not. No married couple around me enjoyed each other’s company, and the people- the people got used to it. People of Kattegat would get used to it.”

“People of Kattegat would assume we’re getting a divorce.”

Your head snapped up, the fear filling you. Your heart was too heavy, and you felt way too sick, but-

What could you possibly say?

But of course, Ivar took your silence in the worst way possible. You could see the realization dawn on him and his eyes widened as he fell into a stunned silence, for the first time since you had met him, the fear apparent in his eyes.

As if he was as afraid as you were, when you had first came to Kattegat.

“You don’t mean that,” his voice was too silent, so silent that you barely heard him, and his gaze searched yours, his chest rising and falling faster than before, “Y/N. You don’t.”

This was too much. You couldn’t talk anymore, not without bursting into tears, your heart actually hurt and you-

You just couldn’t, anymore.

“I should go.”

“Y/N-” he started, but it was too late, because you stood up, then opened the door and walked out of the room without saying anything, your eyes burning with unshed tears.

“A divorce?!” Bree asked, covering her mouth while Gala stared at you, “Y/N-“

“I said nothing. He- he jumped to conclusions, as usual-“

“But you didn’t say no?”

“I would’ve burst into tears if I’d stayed there any longer.”

“Y/N, you-“ Bree hesitated, “You did not say no.”

“No I did not.”

“So he actually thinks that-“ she was cut off when someone knocked on the door and Gala walked to open it.

“My prince.”

“May I?” Bjorn asked and you nodded as Bree shot him a small smile, then turned to look at you.

“Is everything alright out there?” you asked Bjorn and he shook his head.

“You’re considering divorce?”

“I-“ you heaved a deep sigh, “You talked to Ivar?”

“Barely, he’s not in a state to talk right now.”

You pulled your brows together, “What?”

“He ruined his room, yelled at everyone, threw whatever he grabbed at the wall until Ubbe dragged him outside and asked him what was wrong. He refuses to say anything else, other than that you are considering divorce.”

“This is no child’s play.” Bree insisted, “You cannot just let him think that if you’re not willing to go through with it.”

“Oh you’re not considering it?” Bjorn asked and you shrugged slightly,

“Y/N.”

“He just said people of Kattegat would assume we were getting a divorce if we- if we stopped pretending. I don’t have the energy to argue with him about it, I just… This sickness just doesn’t go away, and I don’t-“

“Y/N, you’d be ruined.”

“No she wouldn’t.”

“No I wouldn’t.” You and Bjorn talked at the same time and Bree looked between you,

“I’ve seen maybe two queens that went through divorce.”

“Maybe they would be ruined in your culture, not ours.”

“I’m not saying I’m considering it, I’m way too heartbroken to think anything of the sort, but-“ you heaved a sigh, “Freyja would protect me. And I’ve read our marriage agreement, my brother said one of his brothers added some details about divorce –I’m guessing Ubbe?”

“Probably. Torvi’s influence, I’m guessing.”

“Torvi’s influence?”

“She was very understanding during our…” Bjorn said and Bree raised her brows,

“You were married? To Torvi? The legendary shieldmaiden?”

“We were not meant to be, and she’s happy with Ubbe now.”

“But you- you got married before?”

Bjorn stole a look at her, then rubbed the back of his neck, “Three times.”

Bree gawked at him, “I beg your pardon?”

“Anyway Y/N, about your divorce-“

“I think my nonexistent divorce can wait- three times?” You asked him and Bjorn shifted his weight.

“My first wife, she- she became a shieldmaiden, but got wounded during battle and left. Torvi- she became a shieldmaiden around the time we were married, and then we both realized we were not meant to be. And Snaefrid was a warrior, she died during battle.”

Bree stared at him, “I wonder what it is about you that make women want to pick up a sword and join battles.”

“I wanted to tell you, I just… did not have the opportunity.”

“Oh Gods, my love is ruined and now I’m ruining yours.”

“Nothing is ruined my sweet, I’m just very… surprised, that’s all.”

“Bree-”

You waved your hands, “Anyways, let us speak less of Bjorn’s marriages which stayed in the past, does not affect the present now that you two met-“

“Y/N.”

“Um, if we go back to our discussion, nothing would happen to me.”

“Not only that, you also have the favor of Kattegat. They would never forgive Ivar.”

You frowned, “Ivar is their king.”

Bjorn scoffed, “Ivar is only interested in his warriors, raids and his battles, I don’t even know when the last time he talked to his people was. His actual people, not just his warriors.”

Bree thought for a moment, “And Inkeri’s mother did imply people of Kattegat love you.”

Bjorn nodded “So a king who doesn’t know or care about his people, or a queen who has the favor of Freyja and the people of Kattegat,” he made a hand motion as if he was balancing the possibilities, “That’d be a disaster for Ivar. His warriors would not go on a raid after Freyja sent that sign with Eitr, and if the word of him losing your affections got out? People would think Freyja would curse Kattegat.”

You shook your head, “It’s not my intention.”

“Well, I don’t even think he realizes that right now, he’s too heartbroken.”

“Well, you can go and tell him it’s not my-“

“No, Bjorn,” Bree reached out to touch his arm, “Do not say anything to him.”

“What?” You asked “Bree no, he has to know-“

“No, what he has to know is that there will be consequences the next time he thinks such disrespect can take place.”

Bjorn scoffed, “Anyone who knows Ivar would blame no one for wanting him to suffer, but… Are you sure?”

“You do not know what he said to her.”

He turned to her, “Do you know?”

“You’re not the only person who hasn’t had time for explanations, my prince.”

“What did he say to you?”

“Something so bad that he can actually believe I’d consider divorce.” You muttered, and shook your head, “I don’t- I do not wish to have that conversation- I do not wish to have any conversation with him, for the time being. I just want my peace, that’s all. He’s free to think whatever he wants to think, but that speech requires me to be well rested and ready, and I’m just… not. And there is no way I will ever cry in front of him again, so I- I just need my peace and solitude.”

“Understandable.”

“Very.”

Bjorn stole a look at Bree, “And have you- made your decision?”

And just like that, your stomach flipped. Bree could maybe leave the next morning and you weren’t ready for losing her again.

“Bree, you told me your loyalties lied with me,” you swallowed, “Please don’t go.”

Bree shut her eyes for a moment before she opened them again, heaving a sigh,

“Y/N…”

“May I borrow you for a moment?” Bjorn asked her and she looked from you to him,

“Um, I should stay with her-“

“No you shouldn’t,” You shook your head and smiled at her, “I meant it when I said I needed my solitude. Out, both of you.”

Bjorn offered her his hand and she took it, then stood up,

“Y/N…”

“You too Gala.”

“My queen-“

"Go,” you winked at her, “And for once, stop worrying about me, all of you. I shall have a peaceful night with myself, my thoughts and my falcon.”

“I could stay-“

“No, go with Bjorn.”

“My queen-“

“Gala, go find someone to dance with, there’s still music coming from the great hall.”

“But-“

“It makes no sense all of us are miserable, at least some of us should have a nice night.”

“Y/N!”

“I’m joking, go!” you pushed her towards the door and Bjorn smiled at you,

“If you fail to convince her Bjorn, I’m sending Eitr after you. No matter how many bears you killed.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“And have fun, Gala,” you pushed the blonde girl gently “I’ll see all of you tomorrow morning.”

With that, you closed the door and bolted it shut. Eitr cooed from her place, then flew to you as you climbed to the bed, and she landed on the furs, looking at you.

“Please do not tell me you worry about me as well.” You mumbled, reaching out to touch her feathers, and she came closer to you, “I’m just heartbroken.”

Eitr cooed,

“And sick.”

She tilted her head,

“And angry.”

Eitr flapped her wings, still staring at you and you heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, I see your point.”

You couldn’t sleep until the next morning, and you were sure neither could Ivar. Even if he didn’t come to your doorstep again, you saw him in the great hall when you went there to say goodbye to your brother, you could basically feel his misery, just like your own.

What would actually happen if you got divorced?

You had read the marriage agreement. You would be safe, you would have your own land, own gold, but-

Away from Ivar.

Even if you weren’t ready to have a conversation with him, you were surely not ready to end it.

For good.

Were you?

“Have you seen Bree?” your brother asked you and you swallowed, then shook your head,

“Wasn’t she with you the whole night?” he asked and your head shot up.

“She was, but she left in the morning.” You lied easily and he huffed out, then walked to talk with Ivar who was eyeing you, as Lord Thorpe stayed away from you, eyeing Eitr who was circling the hall and you were pulled out of your thoughts when someone touched the small of your back.

Bree.

“Morning, have you-“

“Do you want me to stay?”

You pulled your brows together, “What?”

“Forget Bjorn, forget Edgard. Do you want me to stay?”

You nodded fervently, “Will you?”

“I told you my loyalties lied with you,” Bree said through her teeth, “It’s about time I showed it.”

You could feel the tears filling your eyes and you pulled her into a tight hug, making her let out a nervous giggle.

“He will not take it well.”

“He will have to live with his displeasure.”

“Bree, my love.” Your brother approached you two as Bjorn entered the hall, and Bree pulled back “Are you ready?”

Bree gulped, and took a deep breath,

“I’m staying, your grace.”

Even the nausea couldn’t stop the smile pulling at your lips as Bjorn’s jaw dropped, looking between them. Ivar pulled his brows together, and Edgard’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m staying. With my queen.”

“You’re being a fool right now, follow me outside.”

“I shall not.”

“Bree,” Edgard spoke through his teeth, “It’s an order.”

“You’re no longer my king, you do not get to demand me.”

Edgard took a step closer but both you and Bjorn reacted at the same time, he drew out his sword and you pushed Bree behind you to stand between her and Edgard, and raised your arm, Eitr landing on your arm in a second.

“Go on, try something.” You dared him, looking him in the eye, “Anything. Please do, I have wanted to hurt someone for days now. Give me an excuse.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Ivar grabbing his axe and taking a step closer to you just in case, but Edgard didn’t move an inch, he just glared at you.

“You,” he said, gritting his teeth, “This is your doing.”

“Consider this a start, Edgard.”

“Start of what?”

“Start of everything I will take from you,” you took a step closer to him, “And when, Edgard, when I make sure that you have nothing left, then you will die. Because I will it so, nothing more.”

Edgard scoffed, “You’re not as powerful as you think you are, sister.”

“Oh you have no idea how powerful I am,” you smiled at him, “But you will learn. Just before you die.”

Edgard eyed you up and down, and his glances went to Bree who was still standing behind you, but then he looked like he had changed his mind, because he turned around and stormed out of the hall, with his men following him. There were some cheering from the people and some snickering, and Eitr flew from your arm as you felt a movement behind you. Bree let out a squeak as Bjorn threw her over his shoulder, making her laugh and exclaim how inappropriate it was while Ubbe covered your eyes, saying something about them tainting you, making you giggle and push away his hand.

Overall, everyone looked happy.

Everyone but Ivar.

Your smile faded instantly when your eyes met his, and he made his way to you while Ubbe walked away, dragging Hvitserk with him.

“Your grace.” You greeted him and he swallowed thickly, licking his lips, almost-

Nervous?

“Tell me you’re not considering that,” his voice was hoarse, as if he was in pain like you were, “Y/N… Please. Please tell me you’re not.”

And just like that, tears filled your eyes.

This was getting ridiculous. You couldn’t cry in front of Ivar, much less in front of the crowd filling the hall. And he seemed to understand it, because he reached out to pull you closer to him, letting you sniffle and bury your face to his shirt. His hand slipped from your hair to your back and he pressed you closer to his chest, burying his nose into your hair.

And you just stood like that for a moment, relishing in each other, as if everything was what it used to be.

It took you almost a minute to pull yourself together, and you took a deep breath, then pulled back and wiped your eyes before glaring up at him,

“I said I don’t wish to pretend anymore,” You managed to say, trying to ignore the sob climbing up to your throat, then turned around and left the hall without looking back, leaving him there alone.

Special thanks to: @nympha-door-a @theskytraveler @iblogabout-stuff @mamaraptor @vikrone @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @asongofmarvelanddc @not–even-a-real–fan @alicedopey @thorohdamnson @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @marauderskeeper @badbitsh13 @superwolfchild-fan @mblaqgi @thescarsweleave @marvelsvalhalla @natalielbeauty @pandalandalopalis@alyssiamarierenee @bloodyivar , @eleanorsparkz @illumminated @itsjoshebelbitch @vikingalexthedane @hangirl93 @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @skadithegoddess @geekandbooknerd @katalina-from-hellbound @too-stressed-to-live@supercarricat @sky-daybreak @athroatfullofglass @blushingskywalker @little-froggy @girlwhoisfearless @aikeji @part-time-patronus @actuallyazriel @rhabakoli and lovely anons! You are amazing! <3

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kimvvantae · 6 years ago

Text

Umbra; 13

➜ being ruled by an ancient commandment, your sole purpose is to serve. you were born to protect the king with your life, tied by an everlasting oath; you are nothing but a shadow, a silent and insignificant being. he appears to you like the sun, the warmest and brightest star in the sky, and gives you a chance to live. it is then that your entire universe starts to orbit around this sun, and you decide that you are truly willing to die for him.

pairing: King!Taehyung x (f) hybrid!reader

genre: royalty au, fantasy, angst

warnings: descriptions of violence, blood and death that might be triggering.

word count: 9k

➜ Chapters: check up masterlist in bio!

The little boy hugs his own legs.

Another lightning tears the air outside the cabin, making him jump. He tightens the blanket around his chubby body. He hates storms, he always did.

The small cabin he calls home is dark and cold, damp due to the strong rain that falls nonstop. He also hates darkness, but mommy always told him to be strong. Mommy says he's brave, and because of that, he tries not to be scared of being alone. He tries not to be scared of the forest around him, he tries not to be scared of the wild animals that might be hiding and watching him, he tries not to be scared of another thunder that explodes so strongly he feels it in his bones.

“You're a strong wolf,” his mommy would always say.

Mommy isn't home yet.

She said she would come back before dawn, but the sun has disappeared long ago and she still didn't return.

What could have happened? His mommy never stayed away for so long. Sometimes he's left alone, but never until late at night. Mom always comes back to cook dinner and put him to sleep. Why is she taking so long today? Again, the little boy tries to control his nerves. He holds the tiny fang around his neck - a gift his mom gave him, the symbol of his family. A family of wolves. He has to be brave. He has to be strong-

He hears the sound of horseshoes over the storm.

A smile immediately appears on his lips, as well as a sigh of relief. Finally, mommy is back! He gets up from the bed, still holding the blanket tight, and walks over to the door. He hears steps on the mud. He's ready to jump on mommy's arms and hug her-

The door opens.

All the excitement is gone in one second. Instead, a cold shiver of fear takes place.

A tall man stands in front of him. Too tall, too imposing; his sole presence fills the place. He looks around the small cabin with obvious disgust on his eyes, as if he has just entered a sewer. The little boy knows this man. He comes from time to time, talks to mommy and leaves. He never addressed the little boy, but this man always sends significative stares.

As if… inspecting him.

The little boy doesn't know anything about him, but he knows that mommy doesn't like him. She's always uneasy and nervous whenever he comes over. The kid tightens his small fists.

“Where is mommy?” He asks angrily.

The man finally looks down at him, as if noticing the kid for the first time. The little boy shivers again at his piercing gaze. There is no hint of affection or any bright feeling. His eyes are as cold as ice, authoritarian, strong.

The little boy does not understand it yet, but that gaze means contempt.

“Your mother won't come back,” he simply says, his voice deep and resounding.

The little boy freezes in place.

What…?

“You're lying. Mommy said she would come back soon…” he stutters weakly.

“Your mother is dead, kid.” Is all the man says nonchalantly. As if he's explaining something simple. As if he's not making the world crumble under the boy's feet with that sentence.

Instead of immediate sadness, the boy feels anger. It was that man. Mommy never liked him. He must've done something… but he can't believe she's dead. No. She can't be.

“What did you do to mommy?! What did you do?!” the little boy screams and launches himself over the man, fists tight, hitting everything he can find. But he makes little to no damage. The man looks down at him, again, with pure disgust, and simply pushes him back. Although he did not use much strength, the boy falls back easily.

“You need to be educated,” his deep and cold voice crosses the air. He's still calm, impassive. As if the boy is not a big deal, as if he's just a dog that messed up his carpet. “Take him.”

Two more man enter the cabin and drag the boy by his arms. Even though the kid struggles and screams and even tries to bite them, he's still too small and weak. The men just keep carrying him and throw him into an old carriage.

The door is locked.

The boy doesn't know where they are taking him. Panic, despair, anger - everything explodes inside of him all at once. He screams until his throat hurts, he tries to open the door until his fingertips are bleeding, he cries until there are no tears left to cry.

And then, he stops.

The sobbing ceases.

He breathes.

His mother's voice whispers on his ears. You're a strong wolf.

When the doors opens and he is forced to leave, he does it with no complaints. No crying. Not even a word.

His innocence died right there.

He still carries the little fang around his neck.

Blank.

Everything was blank. My mind, my emotions. Blankness is comforting somehow. I didn't see, I didn't hear, I didn't feel. I don't know how long it lasted.

What yanked me out of the blankness was pain.

As my senses slowly came back to me, I soon found out that my entire body was aching; every member felt heavy in a way it has never been. It felt as if someone had crushed all of my bones and cooked my muscles.

Was I punished?, I thought.

Punishments didn't hurt as much as it hurts now, though. No human could put me under so much pain.

No human…

Oh.

Hoseok's face suddenly popped on my mind.

Nothing is above honor. Not even you.

The memories flowed back to me so quickly it gave me a headache. Everything that happened in a short period of time… obsidian soldiers, the rebellion- my mother. Athena's heiress was murdered and a combat has been claimed for the first time in over a decade. Hoseok.

What… what happened after that?

Perhaps I am dead. Perhaps I'm in such pain because I'm being punished in Helheim.

But… does Helheim has such soft mattresses?

I soon noticed that I was laid in the softest thing I've ever been. My mattress felt like a rock compared to this. It even made the pain bearable somehow. Is this what it feels like to lay on a cloud?

Definitely, not my tiny bedroom.

I opened my eyes slowly.

A beautifully decorated ceiling.

A chandelier made of crystals, gold and diamonds.

It took some time to my vision to adjust clearly, and the light still bothered my sensible eyes. I still stared at that ceiling for many moments, being sure I knew this place, but still not remembering well where it was…

One of the palace's sumptuous rooms, I was sure.

No… more than that. This chandelier was too huge, and the ceiling was too high. This was the most luxurious room from the entire palace…

The King's room.

My eyes widened. My heartbeat increased.

Slowly, I looked around, now fully conscious. This was definitely his room. I never realised how the bed was big - five people could sleep comfortably here, I guessed. Why would someone even need a bed this big? Many fluffy cushions surrounded me, and my head was rested in the softest of the pillows. A white blanket covered me. Sunlight filled the entire room, making all the golden decoration gleam. It still bothered my eyes. The place was silent; I could only hear distant voices coming from far corners of the palace, the sound of the wind, and-

And someone's soft breathing right beside me.

I looked to the left.

My heart nearly stopped.

There he was. Sitting on an armchair in a seemingly uncomfortable position; he was sleeping heavily, his hair a mess. He placed the armchair right beside the bed. I was sure his neck would ache when he'd wake up. But still…

He looked beautiful.

Sunlight hit this profile. Every line of his face was fine and elegant. I noticed bags of tiredness under his eyes, the messy clothes. I have never seen him look so messy in my life - at least not when he was being Vante. King Taehyung is always well composed.

For some strange reason, I felt tears on my eyes.

It was hard to believe he was actually right there; was it an hallucination? I was sure not long passed since the attack, however being away from him hurt me. I remembered that I wondered if I would ever see him again during the combat, when I thought I was about to die. I thought of him. I remembered his thunderous voice…

However touches her will die!

It just seemed too good to be true…

However, more memories came back to me.

My child, he seduced you.

He's just using you. What will you be? His secret prostitute?

A part of me did not like this idea, but I had to be rational. And this sane part took the best of me.

I tried to sit up, but my members still felt too heavy and every move seemed to ache even more. I lifted myself on my elbows very slowly, my face a painful scowl. Have I ever been this injured before? I didn't remember one time that I couldn't get up, not even when they punished me for days and nights. If I couldn't even walk, how was I going to leave? Sitting up in that moment felt like a difficult exercise. Unconsciously, I let a painful grunt pass my lips.

I forgot how Taehyung wakes up easily.

He immediately opened his eyes and looked around, confused. I honestly panicked. I knew that, in the moment our eyes met, I would lose all my will to leave.

That's exactly what happened.

When Taehyung's eyes finally focused on me, he looked surprised and gasped. In one second he was already up on his feet and hurried towards me. “Hey, hey! Don't try to get up yet! You're too injured!”

His hand rested on my back to give me some support; with this simple contact, I felt my body heating up.

I missed his touch.

I missed his smell.

I missed the sight of those dark strands of hair falling over his eyes.

I missed everything about him.

I watched in silence as Taehyung did his best to put me on a comfortable position, adjusting pillows and cushions. It even took me some moments to realize I had bandages all over my arms and my stomach.

“Does it hurt too much?” He asked. God, I missed his deep, velvety voice - which was shadowed by concern at the moment. My throat was too dry, so I just nodded instead of speaking. Taehyung quickly took a glass bottle of a strange blue liquid that I recognized as a potion and poured a little of it on a glass. “Here. It will ease the pain.”

I didn't have enough strength to even take the glass; Taehyung placed it on my lips gently instead, his other hand rested on the back of my neck. Surprisingly, the potion had a sweet taste. I couldn't tell exactly what it tasted like, but it almost felt like a juice and not a potion.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on the pillow again. I could hear Taehyung moving around me. He placed his hand on my forehead for some moments, what made me look at him again.

“You had fever all those nights,” he explained quietly. Everything about his expression and body language told me how tense and concerned he was. “A high fever. But it seems that your temperature is normal now.”

“How many… days?” I managed to ask in a raspy and weak voice. I noticed Taehyung shivering for a moment.

“You've been unconscious for five days.”

Five days since the combat? It never happened to me before. How many things might have happened during these five days?

“Hey.” Taehyung caught my attention again. “Don't think too much right now, okay? Just focus on healing.”

“I'm… not,” again, my voice sounded annoyingly weak. He chuckled lightly.

“Yes, you are. I can see your brain fuming. Right now you should just rest. Nothing else is important.”

I wanted to argue, but I wasn't strong enough to come up with an argument. Instead, I just laid there and watched as Taehyung proceeded to examine me. I have never seen him look so concerned, but Taehyung was still trying to keep a composed demeanor. He couldn't pretend in front of me anymore, though. His aura was a troubling mess.

At the same time, he was deeply relieved.

The potion made me sleep again at some point, and when I woke up again, my body didn't ache as much - of course, the pain didn't go away, but it was more bearable now.

Taehyung was still sitting by my side. He had a serious expression, reading what I supposed to be a letter.

“Another week has passed?” I questioned, surprising Taehyung. The way his face lit up when he looked at me made my heart flutter. He smiled - I missed that smile so much - and placed the letter on the nightstand. “No, just two hours.”

“What is this?” I asked, but Taehyung shook his head slightly. He was already standing by my side.

“It doesn't matter right now. How do you feel?”

“Bad, but better than before.” He was touching my forehead again. And my cheek. And my neck. I knew he was just checking my temperature, but it still made me flustered.

“Your temperature is okay.” He murmured, sounding relieved. Taehyung took many pillows and cushions, placing them behind me, until I could rest my back and still be in a sitting position, and then proceeded to examine me all over again.

Now that I was more conscious, the fact that he had to touch me so much made me even more flustered, as stupid as it sounds.

Once again, I asked myself if Taehyung was a telepath, because I desperately needed to pee (what was embarrassing to ask him) but before I could say anything, he called some maids that helped me to walk to the bathroom. I asked myself how did they deal with my body fluids while I was unconscious, what (once again) made me embarrassed. When they brought me back to bed, there was already a plate full of soup waiting for me on a tray. The idea of having something in my stomach was very unpleasant.

“Don't make this face. You need to eat,” the telepath King said.

“I'm not hungry.”

“Sorry, I'm not hearing. Open your mouth.” And then he was holding a spoonful of soup in front of my face.

“I-I'm not a kid, I can eat by myself…”

“Open your mouth.”

He had that annoying stubborn face. That adorable face. Feeling completely flustered, I opened my mouth. The soup wasn't bad - it was the best soup I have ever tasted, to be honest, what made me think the “soups” I used to eat were nothing but boiled water with some vegetables on it. This soup even had chicken, though. I wasn't used to eat meat at all.

“I still can eat by myself.” I murmured again.

“I'm just making sure you'll eat all this,” he stubbornly said and proceeded to blow a spoonful of soup. I couldn't help but stare at his lips.

He kissed me.

This memory made me reach the peak of embarrassment. I just ate the rest of soup in silence.

The soup actually made me feel better, my thoughts getting clearer. Taehyung put the tray aside and started to examine me again, and at this point I was sure he was just being paranoid.

“I'm fine,” I reassured him.

“You're not,” he simply said.

“Well, I feel fine.” I gazed at him again. “You don't look fine.”

“I'm not important at the moment.”

“You are.” I whispered, but he still didn't stop. “Taehyung,” I called, touching his arm.

This made him stop and look at me. His nervousness and worry was obvious, so intense he was shivering slightly. Taehyung gulped and blinked, some sort of astonishment covering his features, as if he just realized he was actually talking to me.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered weakly. That fragile side of him he didn't show in front of anyone but me. Slowly, he sat down on the armchair again. “It's just that… I didn't know if you would survive. I was… I don't know…”

Kim Taehyung out of words is something rare. He looked tired, drained. I tried to open a comforting smile. “Do you really think I would die so easily? I'm tough, remember?”

Taehyung opened the smallest of the smiles. “You're doing it.”

“What?”

“Trying to take care of me. It's the opposite now, okay? I'm taking care of you.”

It was a strange concept. I was always taking care of him, not the opposite… that's why his words made my heart beat fast. I wasn't used to have anyone taking care of me, both because no one cared and because I was too proud sometimes to ask help for Yoongi or Chuu.

I didn't care that Taehyung was taking care of me, though.

What made me remember of other facts…

“Why am I in your room?” I asked, shifting uncomfortably.

Taehyung frowned. “What's the problem?”

“There are many rooms in this castle. And…” I gulped. “Wouldn't it be strange of a married King to keep a woman in his room?”

Taehyung frowned even more. “What? I'm not married.”

Oh.

“That's what Gilliard told me. He said that the wedding couldn't be delayed…”

“Gilliard,” Taehyung huffed and pronounced the Counselor's name as if it had a horrible taste on his tongue. “He lied, obviously. How could I have a wedding after all that happened? The Capital was a mess, it still is, to be honest. And you disappeared. I had to search for you.”

Just as I suspected - Taehyung would never allow a combat under such circumstances. And how he mentioned my disappearing as if it was just as important as the attack…

“Where were you, Y/N?” He asked quietly, leaning in my direction slightly. His dark eyes were shadowed with concern and fear. “We searched for you through the whole kingdom, I even sent people to check on Niflheim, but we still had no sign of you. When I stopped feeling you through the Royal Ring I-”

Taehyung interrupted himself in the middle of his sentence and gulped. I knew what he was going to say.

I thought you had died.

Because the only way to break the connection between the Royal Ring and the medallion is if one of the two is dead.

However, what surprised me was Taehyung's expression of pure fear.

I have seen him showing many emotions, but nothing came close to this. He avoided my gaze, ruffled his hair. The King suddenly looked small and helpless in front of me, fragile like a little bird with a broken wing. Kim Taehyung, the man that never kept his head down to anyone, the man that was a symbol of power and confidence.

He seemed about to cry.

All that because he thought I had died.

It made my head spin, my heart beat fast and feel tight at the same time, my body feel hot. I wanted to hug him just to remind him that I was right there, I was safe. I wanted to promise him I would never disappear like that again. I almost told him everything - my whereabouts, the things I discovered-

But Ehemerald's voice whispered in my mind again.

He's just using you.

That's what he wanted, don't you see? He made you fall for him to keep you loyal.

I could not ignore her words.

As much as I hated it, as much as I wanted to deny it, Taehyung was always suspicious. After all that happened, I couldn't let my guard down so easily. It wasn't just about us; it was about all the injustice, it was about my ancestors, it was about a war just waiting to explode.

She was right about something. Taehyung had my heart. He had me around his finger, he had since the very beginning. But it was time to be rational and ignore my feelings right now.

I couldn't give my heart to a man that might be my worst enemy. He had to prove me that he deserved it; he had to prove that I didn't defend him against my own people in vain. So, instead of doing what I wanted, I did what needed to be done.

I knew the truth of the world now. Taehyung didn't know I discovered the whole truth, though. I used it in my advantage.

“Taehyung,” again, after hearing me calling his name, he seemed deeply impacted. But he noticed how my voice changed, and it made him straighten his posture. “Do you remember the promise you made? That you would tell me everything?”

He nodded. “Of course I do.”

My eyes locked with his again. “It's time for you to keep the promise.”

Taehyung looked surprised and confused.

The truth. That was all I needed to hear. If Taehyung told me the same thing Ehmerald did, the exact same facts, then I would know he wasn't a liar, that he wasn't bad. If he said anything but the truth…

Please don't.

“Why do you want me to do it now? You're not in good conditions-”

“Why not now? We finally met, we're finally alone. You promised me. I can't wait anymore.”

Please, tell me the truth. Don't lie to me.

Taehyung gulped. He ruffled his hair again, seemed hesitant for some moments.

But then he nodded, placed his elbows over his legs, and took a deep breath.

Prove it to me.

“You're right. As always,” he chuckled humorlessly. “I should have told you everything earlier. I'm sorry that I took so long, it was a mistake of mine.”

Please.

“I don't even know where to begin… Y/N, this involves not only you, not only me, but the whole world. Everything we learn since we're kids. It's something that dynasties have been trying to hide from the population for millennia.”

I almost couldn't breathe.

“All you know about the past is a lie.”

And then, he proceeded to tell me.

He said about the Council, about the four races. He explained to me how the world lived in peace, how elves weren't gods as we were indoctrinated to believe, that dragons weren't evil. He explained about Merlin and Opal, about dragon hybrids, about the fall of the Council and the genocide. He told me about the First War of the Clans, the division of the Five Great Kingdoms, the way rulers of the past distorted the entire history and made the world believe in lies.

Taehyung told me exactly the same story as Ehmerald.

I just listened, imobile, speechless.

“Even when the Second War of the Clans happened and the Kim House, my family, put an end to the Brzenski Dynasty, they chose to keep the truth hidden,” he kept explaining, voice quiet but serious. “Every dynasty decided to do the same. It is such a secret that only royals from the highest branches of the family know about it. The others are ignorant.”

I took a deep breath. My hands were shaking slightly.

“How long… how long do you know about it?” I asked in a weak voice, what Taehyung probably thought was shock.

“I was only supposed to find out after my coronation ceremony,” he said. “It happens when every King and Queen from the Five Kingdoms is crowned. Another secret ceremony happens, only a few members of the council and high royals present, where the facts are told. Then, they must swear to protect this secret with their lives. There is a book… it is called the Book of Merlin, where they have to sign their names with their own blood to settle the oath. This book has hundreds of names signed, King after King and Queen after Queen, from all the Kingdoms.” Taehyung chuckled humorlessly. He sounded bitter. “The only thing the Five Kingdoms keep in common is protecting a terrible lie.”

I had to take some moments before speaking again. “You said you were supposed to find out about it after the crowning. Did you already know…?”

He nodded. “Yes. As I told you, I made a deal with my father and he let me travel the world. That's how I met Petrus, and after I became his apprentice, he told me the truth. This is also why he decided to leave the Royal Mages and break any bond he had with governments. He was horrified. This is why he joined a rebellion as well.”

Again, I felt as if the air was knocked out of my lungs. The rebellion.

“What rebellion?” I was once more taking advantage of his ignorance. What Taehyung's opinion about the rebellion was?

Taehyung straightened his posture. “This rebellion… I think that calling them resistance is more suitable. They started as a group of hybrids that knew about the facts of the past, passing the story from generation to generation. It was - still is - very dangerous because the royal houses hunt the people that spread it. They wanted the whole world to know the truth at first, but as the group got stronger, they started to wish for more. Their goals are to reestablish the Ancient Council and to free all the hybrids. And, to do so… they expect to reunite the Four Races again, or at least what remains of them.”

Taehyung looked at me deeply.

“And that's when you become important.”

I shivered.

Taehyung knew everything.

“As I already said, the Ancient Council had the dragons as members. The rebellion wants to reestablish it the way it used to be, and the only race that remained are dragon hybrids. The dragon chosen used to be the strongest of all… you are this person, Y/N.”

I shivered again.

“Me?” I whispered. Taehyung nodded. He was trying to be delicate at the moment, choosing his words carefully. “H-How long do you know about me?”

Taehyung hesitated before speaking again.

“Around three years ago, the rebellion received the information that a female dragon born during a Red Moon existed. I didn't know it was an important information back then, but then I remembered… I remembered of the ghost princess Seokjin told me about. I remembered of seeing a little girl following my father when I was a kid. I connected the dots and things started to make sense.

“I came back to the palace for some time in order to gather more information. I found out that, yes, the royalty knew about the rebellion very well, and they were worried because they were spreading the story throughout Ëlv'en and the continent. The royals also knew about their intentions of doing a coup d'etat and reuniting the Council again. In fact, they knew about it for some decades… they were always very aware of the dragon hybrids at Niflheim, searching for someone that could be possibly stronger and become the rebellion's leader.”

Taehyung avoided my gaze.

He looked ashamed.

“They knew that a female dragon born during a Red Moon existed. But, instead if getting rid of her… of you… my father had other idea. When you got older enough, Taejun sacrificed his old guardian and chose you as the next one.”

I felt as if someone had just buried a dagger in my heart.

“Why?” My voice was barely a whisper.

Once again, Taehyung hesitated before speaking. “Because he wanted to keep an eye on you. He wanted to make sure you wouldn't represent any danger. He also wanted to make other Kingdoms fear him, because he had the strongest of the dragons with him.”

My fingers tightened around the blanket so much that the knots of my fingers got white. I gathered all of my will not to start crying right there.

They have been using me in deeper ways than I have ever imagined…

It meant that Taejun really never cared about me. Not that it should be a surprise after all, but still - I had lived my whole life with him and for him, putting myself in danger without hesitance, considering him my sun. However, Taejun… I was nothing but his toy. His trophy.

“I also discovered that many counselors and other royals were against his decision. They thought you were too dangerous.” More things made sense now… flashes of the past. Gilliard's voice echoed in my mind: “I always kept your reins very tight, Y/N, but I knew that it wouldn't be enough. I tried to warn Taejun many times. We had so many chances to get rid of you, but he never listened. His stubbornness was what led him to his death after all.”

They wanted to kill me so bad that Gilliard was about to begin a war between Athena and Ëlv'en, just so I couldn't be what the rebellion expected me to be.

“There are more important things to protect than Ëlv'en's supremacy.” That's what Gilliard said.

Taehyung watched me in silence, waiting for my reaction. I honestly didn't know what to say or do. I was just trying not to cry like a kid.

“A-And why did you chose me that day?” My voice was shaking. I hated it. “D-Did you want to keep me submissive, too?”

He widened his eyes, but didn't seem offended. He just looked sad and ashamed.

“I did it that day because I knew how important you are, what you represent, and because I knew that the counselors and the royal family wanted nothing more but to see you dead. They finally had an excuse since my father died. I couldn't let that happen.”

“Why?”

“Because I agree with the rebellion.”

This made me shocked.

I stared at him in silence, mouth ajar.

“But, Taehyung… they want you dead.”

He was looking at his own hands.

“I know.” He said, nodding. “They are aggressive and full of anger. But they have all the rights to be. My family, they… the Kim Dynasty let a trail of blood wherever they went to. How many people died because of us? I just think it's time for it to end.”

I was even more shocked.

For the first time, I finally realized what was that tiredness over Taehyung's shoulders all the time, that rooted sadness, that strange hue of deep blue on his aura.

Taehyung felt guilt for everything his family did.

He has been feeling guilty for years.

He felt the responsibility for the discrimination and misery the hybrids went through, he felt the weight of all those deaths as if he did it himself, as if his hands were dirty with blood.

He was just… tired.

“Taehyung, you can't-”

“Let's not focus on me right now,” he interrupted me, waving his hand dismissively. “I already said, I'm not important at the moment.” He sighed. “Since I had no choice but taking the throne, I decided to do something useful. I have been trying to at least make up for some of the mistakes my family made. And this begins with you.” Taehyung looked at me again. He seemed more drained than ever. “I'll be honest, when I first met you that day at the dungeons, I was horrified. When you said you “didn't intend to avoid your fate”... I swear, I wanted to resurrect my father just to break all his bones. And it just got worse as we spent more time together. You were always so quiet and submissive and…” Taehyung swiped his hand over his face. “God, what did they do to you?”

I felt my eyes filling with tears again; there was a strange mix of sadness and shame inside of me.

“My initial plan of telling you the whole truth couldn't be accomplished. Look, I know I sound very manipulative right now. I also used you somehow and for this I apologize. I hid many things from you.” He did look ashamed. “But I just couldn't tell you everything, because you would never believe me or agree with me, not when you thought so little of yourself.”

Taehyung was right. The “me” from months before would never consider any of this; it was still hard for me to associate everything after all, it was still hard for me to not see myself in a depreciative way and I knew it would take some time until I was completely free from all the old misconceptions. I've been taught like that my whole life, things so deeply rooted don't change so easily. I had made much progress, though.

“So… this is why you've been so kind to me since the first day?” I questioned. Now, I was the one avoiding his gaze.

“I've been kind to you since the first day because that's how everyone deserves to be treated, Y/N.” Taehyung gulped. “Being honest, I was scared when I saw you being so grateful when I did the bare minimum to you. I was just treating you like a person… like that day, when you burned your arm with the cursed rock. How could I not take care of that? You looked so amazed. And all those times when I thanked you or apologized…” Guilt was almost visible around him. “I felt so sad. I still feel. You are so powerful, Y/N. I can feel your power from kilometers of distance. Yet, my father made you believe that you're not worthy of anything good.” He shook his head slightly. “I think that nothing that I do will ever be able to make up for what he did to you. That day when I told you about the work policy and I showed you that you would have a salary? I have never felt so stupid. No amount of money in this world will be able to compensate what they did to you.”

My heart was beating fast again, but this time I didn't know why. So many mixed emotions… how he was being considerate of me, all the sadness and the anger. I was getting dizzy.

“Little by little, I saw that you were beginning to change. I already noticed how you became different after the first time we visited a hybrid village. That's why I took you to more and more, both because I needed information about the rebellion and because, maybe if you started to sympathize with the hybrids, maybe if you could understand about your own strength… you could someday agree in reestablishing the Ancient Council.”

“But what about the cursed rock? It was all an excuse?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It was real. At first, I thought that they were trying to kill me, but then it became obvious that they were aiming you. I had to keep you around all the time. I know it sounds stupid, because I'm not even close to be as strong as you are, but I was trying to protect you from them. If you were in my company all the time, they would not hurt you.”

This made me remember something… that night, when Taehyung had a dinner with Princess Sana and I felt so sad that I couldn't watch anymore. I ran to my room and blocked our connection for the first time. Then, Taehyung showed up on my door looking sweaty and desperate…

Please, don't do that again. I was concerned, he said.

Taehyung thought something bad happened to me that night.

My eyebrows frowned. “They who?”

He crossed his arms. “Who else could it be? Gilliard, other high ranked counselors and royals. They've been wanting to kill you for years, and they also hated me on top of that for all I've been doing. I knew they would want to get rid of me someday, too. They were also who cursed my father with that disease.” I widened my eyes.

“King Taejun was really murdered? Why?”

Taehyung frowned. “That's one of the few things I still don't know. Apparently, Taejun disagreed with them about something, and then they decided he wasn't useful anymore. That's what they do with the people that go against them.”

“And where are they now? Isn't it dangerous to have these people around?” I asked, concerned.

“They're all locked in the dungeons.” He said casually, making me shocked.

“What- how did you do that? You can't arrest people unreasonably.”

“It wasn't unreasonably. They disobeyed an immediate order of mine, that was forbidding the combat to happen. It is against the law. I reunited proof enough about their involvement, so all of the were arrested… this is around 90% of the Council and some relatives of mine.”

That devilish satisfaction of him was somehow scary.

Some moments of deep silence hovered above us. I was staring at my own hands, feeling small and fragile, and Taehyung looked at me with hesitance. I could feel how tense he was.

“This is all I know.” He said quietly. “I still don't know why Petrus was murdered, though. I also don't know who the shapeshifter that has been watching us is.” I saw him scratching the nape of his neck uncomfortably. “I'm sorry for keeping the truth from you for so long. You were angry with me the other night and you were right. I already said… I'm not exactly a good person.” He looked down at his lap, his shoulders falling sadly. His next sentence was almost a shy whisper: “Deep down, I think… I think that I hid all that from you for so long because I was scared that you would hate me.”

I couldn't hate you not even if I wanted, I thought, but my mouth kept shut. I felt as if the walls were getting smaller suddenly, my throat tightening painfully.

More silence.

“Please, say something,” he pleaded, shifting on the chair. He sounded and looked out of place. “Even if you want to curse me and beat me up, please do. Anything is better than this silence.”

That strange feeling in my throat got worse, my vision got blurry. I'm about to cry in front of him, I realized in panic - and I also realized that I couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

I hid my face behind my hands and sobbed.

After the first tear trickled down my cheek, more and more came, and more sobs, and then I was shivering and crying desperately. Not only my body ached at the moment, but also my soul. I've never felt so hurt, small and fragile as in that moment.

I felt Taehyung's arms wrapping around me softly.

I could tell he was hesitant - he wanted to console me, but wasn't sure if I wanted to be consoled by him. However, when I rested my head on his chest almost instinctively, Taehyung understood it as a “permission”. He sat by my side on the bed, pulling me closer to him and hugging me delicately, being careful not to squeeze my injuries. His chin came to rest at the top of my head.

And Taehyung just kept silent the whole time.

No one ever saw me crying like that, and the fact that he was the person witnessing my weakness made me embarrassed to the core - but I had just reached a point where all my emotions boiled and exploded all at once. I didn't even know exactly why I was crying. All those feelings were like a giant rock crushing me.

I've been used my entire life, ever since I was born. I've been humiliated, punished, injured, treated like something less than an animal, like I was barely a maggot or worse. The one I almost sacrificed my life for was never considerate of me. Not only me, but everyone that came before me were treated the same way and died without knowing how much more they could have been. I was also crying because of the hybrids, because I found out my mother was alive, because an invisible weight was thrown over my shoulders suddenly - the weight of responsibility, for everyone expected me to be some type of leader; even Taehyung did. And I was also crying because Taehyung told me the truth, he wasn't the bad person Ehmerald suspected, and because I have missed him so much and it still felt unreal that he was there hugging me in that moment.

It all felt unreal and overwhelmingly real at the same time.

“I-I killed my own f-father,” I stuttered between the sobs, needing to let at least someone know.

I noticed Taehyung's surprise. “What?”

“Jaejoong was my f-father. I fought against him in a combat years ago,” I leaned away slightly so I could wipe the tears away with my fists. “D-Deep down, I always thought something was wrong. How c-could a trained dragon lose to a kid?” I tried to gulp, but the sobs wouldn't go away. “I think he knew I was his daughter. I think… I think he let me win.”

Taehyung looked completely shocked and confused. He clearly didn't know who Jaejoong was and how I discovered he was my father, but I knew my words affected him. He pushed me against his chest again, hugging me a little tighter now.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered. When I felt his lips kissing the top of my head, my body got warm. “I wish we would have met earlier, Y/N. If I could go back in time, I would have tried to change things. I would have gone after you earlier. I'm so sorry.” His voice sounded weak and terribly sad.

“Why are you apologizing? None of it was your fault.” I tried to convince him.

“But… I feel responsible. All the things my father did to you-”

“You're not your father,” I interrupted. “King Taejun was never even close to be the man you are. You're the only person that shouldn't feel guilty about what happened in my life.”

Silence hovered above us again.

When Taehyung spoke again, his voice was fragile, featherlight.

“I said I was scared that you would hate me, but now that you know the truth… I wish you would hate me.” He gulped. “I wish you would scream at me and say you don't want to see me anymore. I wish you would throw all your anger over me. I am still a Kim after all. I hate the blood that rushes through my veins. I just wish you would hate it, too…”

What he said alarmed me. Did… did Taehyung actually hate himself?

The best person I've ever know hated himself?

“You're being irrational,” I said softly and freed myself from his grip, sitting straight so I could look at him in the eye. I sniffled and wiped my cheeks again. The bags beneath his eyes were really dark. He had been awake for so many hours? “Look… the reason that kept me accepting all that suffering in silence was because I thought I had a debt with the world. I was taught that my ancestors were murderers, I thought that I deserved to suffer because I was one of them. Now I know that that's not true, but… even if it was true, it would still be not my fault. Now I understand. I never did anything wrong to deserve any of what happened to me, even though it's still my race. It is the same with you, Taehyung.” He looked surprised. “You're thinking the same way I used to think, and this is wrong. The Kim Dynasty did many horrible things, that's right, but you didn't take part in any of it. Your family doesn't define you. The fact that you even feel guilty just proves what I'm trying to say; you're good, you're different from them. You don't deserve any hate, Taehyung.”

Taehyung stared at me in shock. He seemed about to say something, but closed his mouth again.

He was looking at me the way he always did, as if he was amazed. I was sure no one had ever looked at me the way he did.

Taehyung raised his hand and put a strand of hair behind my ear. The delicate touch of his fingers made my cheeks flush.

“How can you still be this good after everything you went through?” He asked quietly. “I don't understand. If I were in your place, I… I don't know what I would have done.”

I shrugged (and regretted, because my shoulders ached). “I think I'm just tired of doing nothing at all. I'm trying to be useful.” I said as his hand dropped. “And I didn't finish yet. Taehyung, you are the best King this kingdom has ever saw. The rebellion just wants you dead because they don't know you yet. You deserve Ëlv'en's crown. I already said, you're nothing like your father. When the rebellion realize it, they will change their minds. Many people already changed their minds because of your actions; it's not as if you don't have hybrid's support.”

“They won't listen to me, Y/N,” Taehyung sighed tiredly. “They knew me as Vante, the kind human, but even if I revealed to be who I really am back then, they would have killed me in the blink of an eye. Centuries of repressed hatred aren't forgotten so easily.”

“But they will listen to me.” I exclaimed, remembering how they seemed amazed by me and respected me. Rubra said I could end the war before it even started, and maybe I knew how; I could be the bridge between Taehyung and the rebellion. “We'll find a way out.”

He frowned. “How are you so sure about it?”

For a moment, I forgot that Taehyung didn't know that I've been in Baïkarh and met the rebellion. Instead of explaining, I just opened a small smile. “Just trust me.”

A smile appeared on his lips, too. “You're doing it again.”

“What?”

“Trying to take care of me.”

I shrugged again (and regretted again). “I can't kill old habits.”

He chuckled. Strangely, after crying so much, I felt the invisible weight easing a little; I was light again. It seems that I needed to let it all out for a moment. Being strong all the time hurts.

“What are you going to do now?” I asked after some moments. “We're still not sure of who conjured those obsidian soldiers, and we don't know who the shapeshifter is. I'm sure that King Hugo isn't happy at the moment… and Vanaheim's Council must be impatient, I think they don't want your wedding to be delayed anymore-”

“There won't be wedding.”

I froze.

“W-What?” I stuttered.

Taehyung rested the weight of his body on his hands. His beauty annoyed me. He stared at nothing in particular. “There won't be wedding.” He repeated louder.

My fingertips were trembling, so I gripped the sheets to pretend I wasn't so affected. “But- what about the accord to unite the kingdoms? What about King Satoshi? What about Princess Sana?”

I was just pretending to be rational at the moment, because inside of me I felt as if fireworks were exploding and I wanted to laugh the most maniac laughter the world has ever heard.

Taehyung sighed.

“Me and Sana decided this together. We talked a lot. We're both tired of people trying to control us.” He opened a small smile. “Sana will be a wonderful Queen. She doesn't need anyone by her side… I just hope her father will understand this.”

He went silent, but I knew he hadn't finished yet. So I just stared at him, waiting until he would speak again, trying to hide how happy I was.

When he pushed his hair back, I honestly felt that the air was knocked out of my lungs.

“For a long time, I… I really thought I could do it,” his voice was calmer, sweet like honey and smooth like silk. He wasn't looking at me. “I found out I would have to marry Sana when I was fifteen. All those years, I've been making my mind about it. I thought it wouldn't be difficult. Royal marriages don't involve feelings; my parents never loved each other, and most married royals don't as well. Sana is also an easy person to live with. Until some time ago, I still thought I would be able to do it.”

Taehyung tilted his head slightly and finally looked up at me.

Those dark, beautiful eyes seemed to be seeing the very core of my soul.

“But falling for you wasn't in my plans.”

His words made me confused for some seconds.

Then, I understood.

And I couldn't breathe anymore.

“I- What-” was all I could stupidly stutter.

He smiled - the most sincere smile I ever saw, the smile that seemed to be lightening up the whole world.

“I thought it was obvious by now.”

My lungs really seemed to be failing. I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to say, I felt as if my soul had disconnected with my body and I was somewhere just watching that scene instead of living it. It didn't feel real.

I gulped and held the sheets even tighter.

“D-Does it mean you like me?” I stuttered again, because it seems that my whole body was malfunctioning. “That type of “like”?”

Taehyung laughed joyfully and leaned his body towards me, searching for my eyes as I avoided his.

“It's a little bit more than just liking you, Y/N,” he said, still smiling, holding my face with both hands. My heart seemed about to explode as he came closer and closer, and my body was stiff and tense because I knew he was going to do it again and I couldn't help but feel nervous and close my eyes tightly and-

When he kissed me, I forgot about anything else.

The tension was gone the moment his lips touched mine, my whole body relaxed. It was different from the first time. It wasn't rushed nor desperate. Taehyung was more delicate than he has ever been, as if scared to break me. Our lips moved slowly, his more confident than mine (I still didn't really know what I was doing after all), until I felt brave enough to place my hands on his neck. His lips tasted like him and everything around me smelled like him and even though my eyes were closed I could only see him and his existence was embracing me and filling me and completing me.

Him, him, him.

Taehyung was all that mattered.

In that exact moment, when we were both broken and fragile and full of scars, when Taehyung showed me his most sensible side, I gave him my heart.

I knew he was a human and I was a dragon. I knew I would live much more than him. I knew that, when Taehyung would be on his elderly years, I would still be very young... his life would pass by my eyes way too fast. Yet, I decided to give him my heart anyway; I would spend my days with him as much as the Universe would let me, I would cherish his life, I would want to be with him to see every smile of his and to wipe away every tear, to help him heal any scar, to be on the happiest moments and on the saddest ones.

I would be with him until his last breath and I would love him until my last breath.

He broke the kiss, but still kept his head very close to mine, analyzing my features. His eyes were so beautifully, overwhelmingly piercing. I felt exposed whenever he looked at me like that, but not in a bad way…

My fingers were still trembling. “I-”

He pecked my lips.

I stared at him with wide eyes. “Why-”

He pecked my lips again.

This time, I frowned. “Won't you let me spe-”

He pecked my lips again. And again, and again, and again, until he was laughing as I tried to push him but not really wanting him to stop.

“Taehyung!” I exclaimed. He tilted his head to the side, smirking in a playful way that made him look the age he actually was.

“If you call my name like that, I won't want to stop.”

I was sure he laughed because I was blushing furiously. “Y-You're always trying to make me flustered, right?”

“Of course. Teasing you is the funniest thing in the world. Both because you look cute when you're shy and you look hot when you're mad at me.”

His last sentence almost made me explode. I had a faint idea of what calling someone “hot” meant. Taehyung laughed at the top of his lungs before putting his arms around me and falling back on bed, making me lay my head atop his chest, what surprised me.

“What are you doing?” I made the stupid question. He sighed deeply, however, now he sounded happy.

“I think we both need to sleep a little bit,” he said. “Pretend we're normal people for a little bit.”

He repeated the sentence he used to tell me when we were traveling, what made me smile. At least, inside his giant bedroom, we could be normal people. We were just… me and him.

Being on his arms like that, resting my head on his chest felt even more comfortable than his soft mattress alone. I remembered that for a long time, I wanted nothing more but be on his company; I just wanted him to look at me or address me. Being like that felt like a dream.

“I will call Yoongi and Chuu to see you later,” Taehyung said, voice deep. I could hear the sleepiness on his voice. “They were very worried.”

“Did you meet Yoongi?” I looked up at him. Taehyung nodded.

“Of course. I thought that your friends might've known where you were. He is a good person. They helped me a lot.”

I nodded and rested my head on his chest again.

Another memory made me widen my eyes.

“What about Hoseok?” I asked myself, concerned. Hoseok disobeyed the King, what was considered high treason. The punishment was death…

“He's here at the palace,” I looked up at him again, surprised that Taehyung even knew who I was talking about. “He asked me to come along. I didn't want to at first… he was the person that put you in this state after all. But I understood the situation. Here he could have some safety.”

As I rested my head on his chest again, I noticed how his voice and expression changed as he talked about Hoseok. Then, I remembered that Taehyung knew that Hoseok was part of my “deal”...

“Are you jealous?” I asked.

Taehyung gasped.

“No.” He was lying.

I bit my bottom lip to hold back a smile. “I was jealous of you with Princess Sana, you know. All the time.”

He gasped again.

“I’m sorry. I never looked at her this way.” I just smiled. Teasing him was funny, too.

“It's alright, Taehyung.”

“Ah, I really like to hear you saying my name,” he sighed. “Can you promise me you'll never call me by “Your Majesty” again? I really hate that.”

“I promise. Taehyung.” I said, giggling. He seemed very satisfied.

Many minutes passed in a peaceful silence. Although I had been asleep for so long, I still felt tired. My eyelids slowly became heavy…

But I remembered another thing.

“You came flying in Alpha,” I said, seeing that incredible scene in my head again.

“Yes,” his voice sounded sleepy.

“How was it?”

“Horrifying,” he admitted, making us both giggle. “ I've never been so scared in my life.”

He went quiet for some time.

“No… the idea of losing you was much more scary than any height.”

He confessed before finally falling asleep.

For some reason, tears were streaming down my cheeks again… due to happiness this time.

Taehyung was there with me.

It was real. We were real.

He was mine.

The deep waters of the Styx River were gleaming in front him.

The man stood there, watching the river flow endlessly in the cold night, the only sounds he could hear were of the wind, the water, and crickets singing around him. He could not even fathom how deep these waters were. The river crossed the whole continent, beginning in the Niflheim mountains and ending in the ocean at Vanaheim. The river that gave life to ancient civilizations, the magic waters capable of enchanting steel until it became almost indestructible. The Cursed River, legends say. It is at West, opposite from the Baïkarh forest at East; dishonored opposed to honored; damned and holy, the entrance to Helheim and the entrance to Alfheim.

What people should be aware of, though, is that many legends are real.

The man lifted his hands and started to chant a song in an unknown language.

All crickets went silent all at once.

Small animals on the riverfront started to run away.

Something started to happen in the water. The man kept chanting, his voice loud and full of intent. He could not fathom the deepness of the river, but he knew what was below it, he knew what laid deeper than it.

It was time to finally finish it all.

He still carried the little fang around his neck.

378 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 6 years ago

Text

Jungle Park [1]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1.5 OR Chapter 2

➜ Words: 4.9k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

➜ Warnings: depiction of throwing up.

➜ Notes: oh shitttt, here’s finally Hoseok’s slice of life series. buckle up, folks. there’s an entire adventure waiting ahead.

Sometimes life can be so entirely mundane that you forget your surroundings. The routine falls into place, yesterday becoming today, tomorrow a reflection of all the other days until time blurs all together. Your body goes on autopilot, mind operating somewhere else as your skin and bones carry forth. And that’s how sometimes, you snap awake again and wonder: How the hell did I get here? Such a moment is now when you’re pulling up on the curb in front of a nightclub. You scramble out the door before walking over to the two people standing in the street and greeting them. One girl is obviously wasted, mumbling incoherently and slumped over her more sober friend. The latter female grumbles in annoyance and thanks you when you help open the door, guiding her drunk friend inside. “Where are you off to this evening?” you ask while closing your door, hands gripping on the steering wheel. “Sixth street, please,” the sober one says in the backseat before she reaches over to her companion and tries to seat belt the girl in. But said girl only waves her off and instead leans over to where the front seat is. Her short blonde haircut brushes against her forehead, nearly pricking into her eyes that are blackened by smudged mascara. Her little black dress rides up unattractively and you realize her three inch high heels are held in her hands. Every word is slurred and spoken slowly. “Wher’ ar’ we go...i..ng?” “Home,” her friend answers. She appears a lot more put together than the other girl, sleek black hair behind her, deep blue dress complimenting her red lipstick. “Now can you please sit down so we can go, Choa?” “No! Don’t wanna!” But the intoxicated female gets buckled in anyhow, despite her little temper tantrum. You offer a sympathetic smile to her friend before nodding and merging onto the street again. “Drive to his house! I wanna give him a piece of my mind!” “No, you are not going to call him again. You won’t contact him. You most certainly will not go to his house. Come on! You’re better than this.” “No, I’m not! I’m weak and I love him, Yura!” Choa wails out in sobs and the other girl sighs in exhaustion. “And that fucking bastard took my heart and ripped it into shreds! He cheated on me, can you believe that?!” You realize she’s talking to you, so you nod, glancing in the rear-view mirror. “Sounds horrible…” “Yeah! He cheated with my fucking mother!” She laughs hysterically, on the verge of violent sobs. “He’s a motherfucker!” You raise your brows, finding it difficult to keep your eyes on the road when you’re brought to such speechlessness. “That’s...uh…that’s really unfortunate.” “He was supposed to marry me!” She’s screaming in both spite and sadness. “I even picked out a wedding dress! It was a Vera Wang! And I lost the receipt! What am I supposed to do with it now?!” She continues on her rant, spilling all her deepest darkest secrets to you, a stranger. “You know, I thought he was cheating on me with that bitch secretary of his. I know she tried to seduce him on a business trip once, but he told me he loved me and he wouldn’t want anyone else but me. And..and..and I trusted him! But lo and behold, I go back to my family’s house and what do I find?! He’s fucking sleeping with my mom! My mom! Out of all people!” You swallow hard, moving your hands on the steering wheel, taking a left down the avenue. You don’t know what to say or how to console the girl. It sounds absolutely horrible and you empathize deeply, especially when she’s grieving in your backseat and her cries are bloodcurdling like she lost a child. “I never liked him anyways,” Yura snaps. “You deserve better, Choa. Good riddance it’s over. He’s your ex now, so there’s no point in being hung up on him.” “But that doesn’t change the fact that I love him!” She’s yelling and crying, and you snap out of your trance, flinching from her deafening wail. You accelerate a little more to get to the destination faster. “I still LOVE HIM!” “You’re better off without him.” “You don’t understand!” Choa sobs without stopping and then she looks at you again, catching your attention in the rear-view mirror. “Haven’t you had an ex that you still love?” “Choa, leave the taxi lady alone. Sorry,” she says to you before turning towards her drunk friend. “She needs to concentrate on driving!” This is definitely the most interesting part of your job. Your little career is nothing impressive. It’s dull and you don’t make much. It’s barely enough to scrape by when you’re living in the city. After paying the lease of the cab, the fuel and maintenance, you only get to keep the fare and tips which leads to about three hundred a night. But at least you get to hear people’s stories, happy or sad. You get to see all sorts of different people and their backgrounds, see where they’re going, get a glimpse into their lives. It’s interesting to say the least. Your lips part, about to give the girl some advice. You want to tell her to talk to him and see if he’s serious about fixing things or see if it’s really over. She also needs some time to heal and think about things, see what she wants and what’s best for her. After all, she can’t move on with her life without some sort of closure. The first step is to sober up after tonight…. But you don’t get the chance to say these things, not when she suddenly leans over with a groan and the next words that comes from her mouth has a cold shiver running down your spine. “I think I’m going to be sick.” You whip yourself around, almost hurting your neck in the process. The thought of having to spend the rest of the night on your knees scrubbing polyester seats and cleaning after someone’s vomit makes your blood run to ice. “Is she going to throw up?!” The stoplight turns green and you’re forced to look back and drive, going over the speed limit by a bit. Yura taps her friends back and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Um...no, she won’t.” There are gagging sounds. The girl is retching at the back of her throat. And then it splashes. The bean burrito and vodka shots from earlier regurgitates from her mouth and plunks down in chunks, slapping all over the floor and the backseat. She hurls and heaves, spewing out endlessly. When she’s done, she burps and the putrid stench fills your small taxi all at once, making you want to vomit. “Sorry…” This is it. This is the last straw. You need another job.

“I can’t do this anymore!” The woman paces around, high heels clicking softly against the carpet as she storms around, arms crossed, trying to walk off her rage. She’s wrinkling her blazer and stretching her dress pants, but the man doesn’t make any comments. He’s too busy rubbing his temples with his thumbs behind the desk, leaning back in his swivel chair. The room is heavy with tension. “Sunyi, calm down.” “No! I won’t! Jimin, this is unacceptable!” She stops at his desk, hands pressing on the clean surface. “He can’t just take a case from me when I’ve been working on it for months! They were my clients!” “Then speak to Hoseok. I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.” “But he won’t listen. You are a partner of this firm. You are his partner. Can’t you talk to him about it? This isn’t the first time and I’m fed up. This is not what I signed up for.” Jimin sighs, not knowing what to say. His job is already full of mediation, he would rather get rammed by a school bus than deal with workplace conflicts on top of it. Sensing his hesitation, Sunyi stands straight and scoffs. “Can you afford to lose me? I know plenty of other places that would love a lawyer like me.” The threat is loud and clear and he stares back at her with narrowed eyes, not appreciating her tone of voice. “Jimin….talk to him.” “Fine.” A long exhale escapes his mouth and his body slumps. “I’ll see what I can do.” The female nods and opens the door, but she lingers for a second. “And can you please talk to Yoongi?” “What is it now?” “His attire is disgusting,” she spits. “He wears open-toed sandals around the office and doesn’t cut his toenails and the last thing I want to see before my lunch break is his dirty feet fungus.” She storms out of the office and Jimin stands up from his spot in exasperation, calling out to her, but no one hears his woes. “Sunyi, I’m a lawyer! I’m not supposed to be dealing with problems like this!” // It’s a relatively normal afternoon. People are tapping away at their keyboards, preoccupied with documents and files upon files. A few legal assistants are helping the others, running across the office floor, murmuring things. The photocopier whirrs to life, phones ringing once in a while. It’s the glorious sound of work. Jimin decides to go for another coffee cup and he times it perfectly to run into his best friend. “Hey, bud.” They stand in the kitchen at the counter, side-by-side, facing the white cabinets. “Everything going alright?” Jimin looks at him with a soft smile and crinkled eyes. Even when he’s a professional and dressed cleanly like one, his brunette hair and cute face makes him look like a kind boy-next-door. It’s not such a bad thing. If anything, it’s advantageous to have such a natural disguise, making opponents underestimate his abilities. On the contrary, his partner’s appearance is as frighteningly scary as his personality. He’s dressed sharply in a black blazer and dress pants, polished and neat. His black hair is styled well with a strand curled at his forehead, strong brows accentuating a sharp jawline. Jimin realizes why he’s the one who appears more approachable in the office. Hoseok is just way too intimidating. “Fine,” he responds curtly and picks up on what’s going on with his sharp perception. “What is it, Park?” “We need to talk, Hoseok.” He nods and looks over his shoulder, stirring his coffee mug before taking a sip. “Do you want to go into my office?” “No, we shouldn’t alarm the others,” he says and the other male will never understand why he’s so sensitive to such little things. There’s no one in the kitchen anyway. He doesn’t know why Jimin is speaking so quietly either. “But listen, I need you to do something for me and if you don’t, I’m going to lose my shit.” Hoseok lifts a brow. “What is it?” “Do you know what I’ve been doing these days? I’ve been doing the job of an HR representative. I’m dealing with issues in this office every single day, all the petty little problems and the stupid drama.” He scoffs and then laughs, having thought there was something more serious at hand. “That’s because you have no backbone. Do you see anyone coming to me with their issues?” “That’s exactly it,” Jimin emphasizes. “You are half of the problems around here.” “Really now…” Hoseok’s curiosity is piqued. “And who is having problems with me?” “No. We are not going to discipline them or scare them or use whatever tactic you’re thinking of right now. We need to address this the right way. There will be absolutely no intimidation tactics or sweeping under the rug or warnings. We need to keep the tropes happy, Hoseok. Everyone needs to function well for this office to function well.” He motions him to go on. “So…?” “We need to hire someone for HR.” Hoseok laughs. He throws his head back and gets a good chuckle. Then as he shakes his head, he takes his mug and begins walking down the hall towards both their offices. Jimin follows behind him with a growing scowl. “We’re going to open an HR department for fifteen people?” “This is a high conflict office and you know it,” Jimin reasons with him. “There are problems every other day here and I’m tired. I can’t focus on my real job. We need someone here to solve conflicts and to deal with all the issues that I don’t want to deal with.” “No.” Hoseok keeps it short and simple. “We aren’t going to do that. It’s unnecessary. Do you realize we would need to clear out another office and pay them? It’s an unnecessary expense in our budget. And not to mention, it’s ridiculous. Have you ever heard of a firm this size having an HR department?” “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve made myself clear. I’m not asking for your permission. I’m telling you.” The shorter man stops the taller one, both of them standing in the middle of the hallway and quietly bickering underneath their breaths. “Hoseok, what is the name of our firm?” “Not this again, Jimin. If you have something—” “Hoseok. Answer my question.” He rolls his eyes, tired of the other’s childish antics and getting flashbacks to days in university. Yet, Hoseok gives in with a long sigh. “Jung and Park.” “Exactly. We’re in a team. It’s me and you—” “Actually, that’s incorrect.” He gives a shit-eating grin, marring his cold exterior with a playful twinkle in his eyes. “It’s supposed to be you and I.” “Don’t be an ass.” Jimin pouts. “We’re hiring someone for HR. That’s final. It’s what we and everyone else here needs.” “Fine.” Hoseok gives in once more and nods his head. “Just hire someone.” “Oh my god!” Jimin suddenly shrieks and scares the living daylights out of his partner. “You don’t hear anything that comes out of my mouth, do you?! No wonder people have issues with you!” “What?” “Hiring is part of the HR job and I’m not doing that anymore!” He throws his hands up into the air. “You hire someone. I’m done!” “What?” Hoseok is still confused. “You want me to hire someone?” “Yes! Finally, the man hears!” Jimin laughs manically, causing Hoseok to ponder how many coffee cups he’s had. He ends up skipping away, happy that one out of the heaps of problems is solved for now. And Hoseok is left by himself, sighing. Who the hell is he supposed to hire?

You need a job. After you force yourself to sync your sleeping schedule back to the general public, sleeping at night instead of day as you’ve been doing for the past year, you go on a job hunt. First, you revamp your résumé. When you’re satisfied, you flip open the local newspaper until you realize this isn’t the nineteenth century and no one uses the newspaper anymore. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to search for a job. Needless to say, you’re a bit rusty. But you still hold a lot of hope as you scour online for job postings. You write down phone numbers, giving them calls to see if they’re still hiring, most of which apologize and tell you they already have someone. It’s difficult since the economy isn’t doing great, but you don’t give up. Every opportunity of work, you jump at the chance, calling or emailing, even printing out physical copies to go drop it off...that is until you run into a certain post… Human Resource Manager Jung and Park Full-time $40-60k Salary It’s right up your alley. It ticks off everything you want and everything that you can do. When you click on it, you get the specifics of the company, the details of the position, responsibilities and requirements. You qualify perfectly and even the location of the firm is only a mere subway ride away. The pay is decent, enough for you to live, and it’s unlike the taxi business where some nights you go home empty handed. There could not be a better opportunity. It’s miraculous, a chance that fell from the Heavens. But….you can’t do it. “Is there a reason why you want to work at McDonalds?” The shift manager looks at you expectantly, voice a bit on the quieter side, making it hard to hear. “Well, I’ve eaten at this franchise a lot.” You swallow hard, trying to hide your shaking hands and conceal the nervousness. “I think it would be really interesting to be on the other side of the counter.” “Hmm, that’s nice,” she replies sincerely and nods with a kind smile. At this point, you’re looking anywhere, any place where you can make some fast money before you search for a real career position. If you’re on a search forever, you won’t have money to pay the upcoming bills. Your savings will only do so much before they diminish into nothing. “Hello.” You look over the bakery case towards the manager who’s preoccupied with some cakes. “Hi, can I help you?” “Um, are you possibly hiring at the moment?” You hold the stack of résumé close to your chest, not yet giving up. “Unfortunately, no.” They give an apologetic expression. “We’re not looking for anyone.” You walk around stores on the street and in the malls, bakeries and coffee shops, clothing stores and fast food chains. It feels like when you were a teenager again, looking for a summer part-time job and coming up short every single time. All the interviews done in corporate offices never call you back or they take your résumé without even actually taking a glance at it. And maybe that’s a good thing. You have nothing impressive about yourself. You don’t deserve a fancy job in some high rise or at some luxurious establishment. You’re not cut out for that life. It’s plain and simple. They wouldn’t want you. “Can you handle a stressful environment?” “I’d like to say I can.” You hum before laughing. “I was a summer councilor back in the day and someone lit a cabin on fire once, so I think it’s suffice to say, I can handle myself during an intense environment.” The old woman across from you laughs heartily. You could feel it — this interview was going well. You might actually get the job and the excitement was making your eagerness double. “Last question,” she flips a page and then folds her hands on the table. The woman looks deep into your eyes and is quiet for a moment as if she is trying to truly see the person in front of her and not just a candidate for the job. “Don’t you think you’re overqualified for the position?” You frown. “Overqualified?” “I mean, your work experience is very versatile. Your educational background is fantastic. I am quite fond of your personality. You seem like a genuinely earnest and hard-working individual. But, why here?” Her eyes bore deep into yours. “This is an elementary school administration position. All you would be doing is answering phones all day.” “Well...I...uh….if this is about the salary, I’m completely fine with what you’ve offered. And I like stability. I don’t have plans of looking for something else,” you’re stuttering, not knowing how to answer. “I like working with different people and I like kids too. I..just think I would do well here.” She smiles softly, a very calming presence in the midst of your panic. “This isn’t about salary and I’m not questioning your loyalty. We’ve spent...what...an hour together? And I can tell you’re a kindhearted person, Y/N. I’ve lived to see enough people come and go. Heck, even before this interview, I had someone come in and the first thing they asked were about vacation days.” This woman knows nothing about you. At most, she might be your future employer, but sometimes you wonder how people can know you after spending mere moments together. Is your face really that easy to read? Are you just too open about yourself? But none of these questions matter when what she says hits you the hardest— “I think you should aim higher.” The posting still haunts you. Human Resource Manager Jung and Park And maybe that’s the reason why you haven’t been doing well in any interviews, except for a select few. Perhaps this is why no one has given you a call back despite your efforts to display your dedication. The posting follows you wherever you go, on the back of your mind, imprinted into your memory. Maybe this is what you really wanted from the start — not stupid jobs at fast food restaurants or running in the streets handing out your résumé or jobs that aren’t of interest. Human Resource Manager It’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. But with one eye open, you go in for the kill.

In the heart of the metropolis are soaring towers, corporate offices and companies, business and enterprises that you have no reason to represent or work for. The firm is large and full of glass, from the giant windows to the glass of the conference room. But despite the modern design, it’s gray. The walls are painted in a gray shade, spaces left empty, cubicles tall and covering people’s faces. There are boxes of files and paperwork stacked up along the halls. It seems like a tense environment and you can hear people hard at work, typing on keys, flipping through papers, sighing every so often. You wonder if you look awkward and out of place. For the fifth time, you tug on your pencil skirt and smooth out your old blazer, afraid you look weird or tacky. Your grip on the briefcase tightens and you don’t even know why you brought the darn thing when there’s only a squished ham sandwich and more printed résumés inside. You’re sitting straight in your seat, staring at the receptionist and waiting. When she looks up from her computer, you divert your eyes to the firm’s name overtop her desk on the wall. Jung and Park. You can do this. All you have to do is keep it professional. The door to the left conference room finally opens, someone exiting and holding a file of folders. Your heart stops right in your chest. Your breath hitches. Something stirs inside of you. A tall man with dark hair, in a fitted suit, is standing right in front of you. His sun-kissed skin is glowing, high cheekbones, long nose, everything adding to his handsomeness. His mere presence commands your attention. Even when he’s frowning, there’s something about him that makes him so alive. Hoseok takes one mere glance at you before looking down at his papers. “Y/N?” You flinch when he calls your name and you stand up, swallowing down the thick lump in your throat, feet together, adjusting your skirt one last time. You can do this. “Yes?” “You’re here for the interview?” he asks without looking at you, taking a peek at his watch and phone. When you confirm, he nods and pockets his mobile device before gesturing towards the empty conference room. “Come in.” You’re shaking. Even when you’re trying your hardest not to tremble, hiding your hands in your lap, it’s useless. You can’t stop staring at him either. No matter what you do, you can’t tear your gaze away from his face. It’s too difficult. You want to be professional. You want this job. You don’t want to screw this entire thing up. But the things you want are things you could never have. “You have a degree in…” He searches the paper in front of him. “Human Resource Management Honours. Wow.” You mumble, “it’s just a commerce degree…” “No, it’s exactly what we’re looking for.” Hoseok, on the other hand, has no problems with keeping it professional. He doesn’t notice your staring eyes either. If anything, he only casted cold glances and seems to be disinterested in the whole ordeal. “Do you have any previous HR experiences?” “Yes. I worked as an HR representative for about a year before the small company shut down.” The lawyer hums and studies your résumé like your entire existence can be summed up with words printed on the lines. “And your previous job?” “I was an executive dispatch member for cab services.” It’s a slight lie, a truth exaggerated. It doesn’t sound impressive to say you drove a taxi around in your late twenties and your early thirties. “And you quit because?” “Differences in professional goals.” More like you spent three hours cleaning up after some drunk girl’s vomit and had enough. “How did you hear about this position?” “I saw a posting online.” “Right.” It seems like he’s going down a checklist, firing question after question at you. The man never once looks at your face. He treats you rather coldly and you feel like your chances are slim. It’s just a feeling inside that tells you won’t get the job — which is understandable. “Why do you think we should hire you?” “I...I have a good educational background. I’ve worked in many different areas, so my work experience is very versatile. I’m really hardworking as well.” You mentally thank the older lady from a few days ago who gave you ideas on what to say. “I’ve worked with a lot of different kinds of people before and I enjoy it. I think I would be a valuable asset to your team.” Yet, Hoseok appears unfazed at your answer, as if he’s heard similar things from other applicants. “What do you consider to be your weakness?” “I…” You’re having a hard time, palms sweaty, mouth dry. “...I think I have a pattern of underestimating myself. I’m a bit dependent on others too, but I’ve been working to improve myself on that…” The man across the conference table scribbles something down on his paper, like he doesn’t enjoy the fact you have trouble being independent. “Then what are your strengths?” “I’m dedicated and hardworking. When I do things, I have to do them right or I won’t be satisfied.” You clear your throat, getting a grip on yourself, reeling from your whiplash of being in his presence. “I’m resilient. I can get back up when I’ve been knocked down. I can survive and make it past hard times…” “That’s good.” There’s a ghost of a smile gracing his features, warming his cold expression, and you’re trapped in a trance. But it’s interrupted when he suddenly moves back, closing the file. You’re surprised at how it’s over so quickly. “Well alright. I’ll give you a call then. Thank you for coming by, Miss Y/N.” He stands and you follow after a delayed second, but before he opens the door, you interrupt— “Um...I..” “Oh sorry.” He turns. “Did you have a question for me?” “Hoseok, I….I really want to work here.” Your fists are clenched tight, your head is downcasted and you’re sure you look like a desperate mess begging for this job, but you have to take the leap. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. “I understand if you won’t hire me, but will you at least take me into serious consideration?” “I’m sorry?” There’s a pause. You look up at his confused expression and you frown, stumbling over your words. Hoseok finds the way you speak to him odd, as if you’re perfectly familiar with him. He interjects with his own question, “Do we know each other?” “What?” “I’m sorry. I got into a car accident about seven years ago. There are some things I can’t remember anymore.” He offers a small smile and you’re caught off guard. It came out of nowhere, so sudden, but he says it nonchalantly like it doesn’t affect him at all. Your frown deepens to the point where it hurts and you blink. You’ve been stunned to silence. His brows are raised and he dips himself down, searching your face and he repeats himself in honest curiosity, “Did we possibly know each other?” “Not really,” you answer. “We were acquaintances back in university, like twelve years ago. I thought you would remember me, that’s all.” “I’m sorry.” His brows furrow. “I can’t seem to recall…” “No, it’s alright.” You nod, returning his smile. “I’m sorry to have to make you talk about your accident.” “No, I don’t mind.” Hoseok looks down at your application in his hand. Y/N. Your name brings no significance back into his mind, but he’ll make sure to remember from now on. “Well, if there isn’t anything else...” “O-oh yeah, umm, okay.” You bow your head slightly as he opens the door. “Thank you for the interview.” Hoseok lifts his arm with an open hand. You stare down at it for a second before clasping your palm with his, shaking his hand. The corner of his mouth lifts and he nods. “It’s not a problem.” The both of you end up walking your separate ways. The man returns to his office with a stack of files in his arms. And you can’t help but turn around to stare at his broad backside becoming smaller in the distance. Well...either way, the two of you were strangers from the start. You’ve always been strangers to each other. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember.

#BTS fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok #jhope fanfic #HOSEOK AS A HOT SHOT LAWYER WHO THINKS HE'S THE SHIT #OC WHO JUST NEEDS A FUCKING JOB TO LIVE ( ꒪Д꒪)ノ #i promise you this will not be cliché

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silkkpopbonnet · 5 years ago

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7 Nights of Monsta X

Night Four

Mornings were always hard to wake up to, mostly it was the sore muscles, but it was also the cold bed that Alexis rolled over in. Ugh, she hated being sappy, but being in Jooheon’s arms last night was paradise. He held her close through the night, pushing his nose against the back of her neck. Before she left that early morning, she held his face tight, thumbs moving over his dimples as she kissed his lips gently.

“Do you want to get lunch later?” He asked softly, laying on the bed he tried to drag her back into it.

“I have some things to do later.” She felt bad, the sadness mixed with fatigue saturated his eyes. “We can have dinner tonight when I come back.”

“With the guys?”

She chuckled. “Yes.”

“Naw, me and you.” Jooheon pulled her in for another kiss. “We can have dessert with them, early dinner with me and that gives Minhyuk enough time with you tonight.”

“Sure thing casanova.”

Now as she lay in bed, replaying the conversation from early this morning, Alexis took a deep breath and waited for some aspect of facing reality to pop up in her head. She was in her last semester of school, only 1 class left and after that? Who knows, she hadn’t thought of much of what to do after this. Escorting was something she honestly loved to do, talking and getting to know people and how they thought. The secrets she knew and held were the most interesting. Did she want to do this long term? No, however, she had no plans to go forward after this, Alexis was a, live each day as they came kind of person and now she wondered if she should make some plans.

Rolling out of bed, she looked down at her phone to see a missed call and few messages from her primary benefactor. Answering them, she sighed as he asked her to lunch, she knew he would. He was beginning to irritate her, and Alexis wondered if that was because she was getting so much A+ dick, or if she was realizing that he was truly annoying and sub-par to her guys in more ways than one.

Either way, he was providing the most money. Good thing it went by fast, the lunch and sex. Quick and easy in the car was what he wanted, and as Alexis got back home and soaked herself in a bath, her heart jumped at the thought of dinner with Jooheon. She was excited, something she hadn’t felt in a good while and the idea of him made her smile. She’d look her best tonight.

“I’m just saying, I thought it was funny.” Jooheon continued to laugh as he held open the door for Alexis.

“I’m laughing,” Alexis poked her cheeks trying to stop them from hurting. “I am, I just don’t understand why you guys pick on Shownu so much.”

“He’s fun, and he’s a good sport.” Jooheon held her hand in the elevator. “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“I did, thank you for asking.” He closed the space between them gently, his hand gently holding Alexis’s chin.

“If I had it my way you’d be on your knees right now, but,” He sighed heavily.

“But what?”

The very thought had Alexis rubbing her thighs together gently, she needed a good orgasm, she hadn’t had one today and they were therapeutic.

“Finally!” The elevator doors opened and Minhyuk held his phone up shaking it at Jooheon. “I know you heard me calling you.”

“I ignored it.” Taking Alexis purse from her hand, Jooheon winked at her before leaving her with the pink-haired singer. “See you soon babe.”

She waved at him, noting that Minhyuk got in the elevator. “Your feet aren’t tired are they?”

“No, why?”

“We’re going to an ice cream place not far from here.” He pressed the button for the first floor. “If that’s ok with you.”

Alexis chuckled leaning back against the railing. “You just pressed the button, I don’t see how I have a choice.”

Minhyuk wrinkled his nose. “You always do, we’d just go back upstairs. I just want to talk a little. Jooheon got you to himself,” As the elevator stopped, he held a hand out so she wouldn’t step out the door.

Positioning himself so that he was standing in front of her, Minhyuk let the weight of his body settle on Alexis frame, as his hands caressed up her sides. “I am a jealous man, Alexis, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you smiling with me more than the others.”

He kissed her gently, letting his teeth nip her lower lip before he captured her hand and lead her out of the building and down the street.

“I didn’t take you for jealous.” Alexis fell into step with him, pulling her coat closer around her neck. “One would think that you and Kihyun were close.”

“That I enjoyed sharing with him?”

“Something to that effect.”

“Sometimes.”

Minhyuk let his words drift off as they approached the building. There was no one inside, as they were close to closing for the night, the normally bright overhead lights were off and the yellowish glow of the backlights illuminated the store.

“What can I get you?” A cheery voice sounded from behind the counter. “We’re almost out of chocolate peanut butter fudge, you can have the rest.”

“No, do you have vanilla?” Alexis walked up the counter, taking in the three different flavors of vanilla.

“Vanilla?” Minhyuk was still wearing his mask. “So plain.”

“I’ll get some sprinkles.” She smiled as the woman began to scoop, and dipped her cone in chocolate dots.

“I figured you as more a, I don’t know, adventurous flavor kind of lady.” He chuckled and ordered himself some strawberry/chocolate truffle on a sugar cone.

“I think I have enough flavor in my life, sometimes I like to be plain. There are hidden notes in the monotony that I enjoy.”

“Really?” Paying for the treat, Minhyuk hooked his arm around Alexis' waist as they exited the store. “You don’t seem like the type.”

“There’s comfort in routine.”

“Could you get used to one with us?”

Now there was a question that had no easy answer. Swirling her tongue around the frozen dairy allowed her some time to think, as Minhyuk led them back to his building.

“It depends on where I see this going and what I decide to do with my life.”

They were headed to the roof, Minhyuk pushed the button for the top floor. “You’re a philosopher, I’m sure that has its merits.”

“In some ways.”

There was a gazebo of sorts on the roof, small and wooden it looked out over the city. Pulling back the flap, Minhyuk indicated Alexis should sit as he turned on a small heater. “Explain this to me, I want a better understanding of you.”

She hadn’t heard that before, clients were not interested in who she was, only what she did and how she made them feel. What was it with these seven?

“I think I’d like to go into psychotherapy.”

“Help others with their issues? You’re a good listener, I can see why. That and you have a good head on your shoulders.”

Alexis raised an eyebrow as Minhyuk finished his cone. “Really.”

“I’m not being an ass,” He wiped his hands on his jeans. “I mean it, you’re level-headed, rational, you’re a take-charge type of woman, you see through BS and can pick out what’s wrong and why. It’s highly attractive, yes, but it would help you immensely in that line of work.”

“You make me sound tough.” Alexis grinned, finishing her own cone.

“I make you sound like who you are, who I like.”

She smiled watching as he came closer to her, hand on her knee.

“What else do you like about me?”

“I can show you better than tell you.”

“My,” Alexis tapped his nose. “Minhyuk, are you trying to seduce me? On the roof?”

“No,” He leaned back, unzipping his jeans. “I’m offering you mutual pleasure, if I was truly trying to seduce you, I’d have you under me already.”

Alexis watched as he pulled his length from his jeans. Long, with a slight curve to the left, he began to touch himself looking directly into her eyes.

“I could stand up and go downstairs.”

“You could, but why?”

“Kihyun, Shownu, I.M.”

Minhyuk smiled, it was a more of a devious smirk really, especially with the way his eyes sparkled and the soft sheen on gloss on his lips.

“All wonderful prospects, truly.” He stood up, long, pale fingers still wrapped around his shaft he was pumping steadily, rubbing his thumb over the mushroom-headed tip.

Alexis found herself breathing deep wanting to catch his smell, see if she could taste him on the air. She leaned forward as Minhyuk came forward, that same look of curiosity in his eyes as he raised his hand to his mouth. “Sometimes I get excited and a little messy, sorry.”

Snatching his wrist, Alexis inspected his hand, fingers moist with precum, she licked her tongue around the digits and watched as he shivered.

“Maybe I can help you clean up?”

“You’d be so kind?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

And that was how she found herself on her knees, head bent back while Minhyuk stood over her and fed her his dick. Little by little he held his shaft as Alexis continued to swallow his length. What Minhyuk wanted was for her to choke on it. He wanted to hear her gag and watch the saliva pool around the sides of her mouth. He could take his time though and that’s exactly what he did, as Alexis eyes watered. He was touching her uvula now, the soft area at the very back of her throat and his body was pressed against her face. She was breathing against his pelvis, her warm breath on his already heated skin.

“Ah, don’t try to talk sweetheart, actually,” He pulled out just enough for her to form a sentence with a mouth full of cock. “How does it taste?”

“Wonderful.” Or at least, that’s he thought she said before shoving his cock into her orifice once more.

“I’d like for you to taste yourself after I’m done wrecking your pussy, how does that sound?”

He started moving his hips, holding onto her shoulders as Alexis groaned and coughed. Tears came down her eyes, making Minhyuk moan with pleasure. She was gorgeous with a mouthful of his dick, she’d be even prettier naked, bent over with his thumb in her ass while she sucked him. He’d save that for later, for now, he couldn’t fight the urge in his bones to move. Holding the back of Alexis's head, Minhyuk let his thumbs graze gently over her cheeks.

“Forgive me, sweetheart, the louder you gag on me the more I’ll fill your throat, so do me a favor and let me hear you loud and clear.”

He didn’t give her enough time to answer, only to take a breath and let it out quickly as he slid his cock into her throat. She knew what she was doing, relaxing her muscles enough so that he could slide the head of his dick into her esophagus. Alexis was working her tongue against his balls pressed tightly against her chin. The continued slapping of his balls against her chin, combined with the steady moving of her tongue, had Minhyuk groaning as he slowly pulled out of her mouth and helped Alexis to sit on the couch.

Laying down on the other side, he beckoned her over and pressed her face to his pelvis as he raised his legs up. Drool accumulated on Minhyuk’s thighs, his heavy moans inside the tent as Alexis's nails scraped gently down his legs. He was so close, and she was going to swallow it all. The tightness of her mouth as she clamped her lips around his cock combined with the wet heat of her mouth, made him explode. Hot and salty into her throat and down the sides of her face, as Alexis coughed and gagged while Minhyuk held her still. She was gorgeous, wet eyes, runny nose and thick white ropes of his sperm covering her mouth. When he let her go, she took a deep breath, coughing, trying to breathe as he smiled at her, dick still hard.

“Let’s go downstairs.”

Alexis had her back against the wall, while Minhyuk held her off the floor. They stopped at the foyer for Minhyuk to help her remove her shoes but that ended up with him pulling her pants down and off. He was currently holding her, mouth buried in her pussy when Shownu walked pass the hall and spotted them.

“If you need help taking her to the room…” He let his words linger until Minhyuk gave one more long lick to her pussy before speaking.

“I can handle it hyung, thank you.”

Letting Alexis down, he ordered her to strip, taking her clothes neatly he marched behind her like an eager pup as Alexis waved to the rest of the guys before walking into the room that was her space for now.

“Excuse me.” Minhyuk smiled, tossing Alexis panties at Kihyun’s head before closing the door to the room.

Now Alexis was on her back with Minhyuk perched over her in 69. His mouth ravaging her labia, as he licked and slurped somehow keeping time to her sucking as he forced his cock into her mouth. His goal would have been to have cum ooze from her nose, but was she ready for that?

Probably not, instead he smacked his lips loudly and slapped his fingers on her sloppy pussy before shoving his cock into her.

“Let them hear you out there love, I want to give Kihyun something to aspire towards.”

Night Five: Shownu

#7 nights series #7 nights is back #7 nights of monsta x #7 nights showcase #monsta x #shownu #wonho #minhyuk #kihyun #hyungwon #jooheon #joohoney #i.m.

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r-ahh-mi · 6 years ago

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You Got What I Need (Part Two)

Part One II Part Three

Summary: Your friends with benefits arrangement with Rami embraces for an impact, whether that’s positive or negative, only a test will be able to tell.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: talk of pregnancy and some swearing. Primarily fluffy stuff✨ will be smut in other parts though.

This series will definitely have a part three and maybe more so try not to hate me too much for this sort of filler (but cute ass filler) Enjoy!

“I’ll be there in 5 minutes okay? Don’t freak out; we’ll figure this out regardless of what the test says.”

You closed your eyes and took in Rami’s reassuring words he spoke over the phone. His voice was so calm and thoughtful and you couldn’t believe how he was reacting to all of this. Much better than you were, that’s for sure.

“Thank you for being so understanding about all of this... I just don’t get it! I’ve been on the pill for years and I’ve never had an issue with it.”

You heard him sigh over the phone and knew he was clearly nervous about this whole situation, which was only normal. We couldn’t raise a baby together; hell we weren’t even in a relationship with one another.

How would we do this.

You shook your head, shaking the thoughts out of your thinking. You didn’t even know if you were pregnant yet, and here you were making plans on how to raise a child with your best friend. Step by step ya mad woman.

“I’m pulling up to your street now. I’ll be inside in a bit. Want me to use my key?”

You smiled to yourself, remembering the day he asked for a key to your place. He explained that he strictly wanted one for those late nights when you called him over simply for a good fuck, but, through out the last couple of months, he would come over, unannounced, with dinner and a movie and you guys would cuddle up on the couch with one another... and then fuck!

It truly felt like a relationship without the label, and you weren’t terribly upset about that because at least you got to spend the precious and little time with him that you did, label or not.

“Yes please. I’m in the bathroom attached to my bedroom,” you replied to him, hearing the sound of his car door closing, through his end of the phone.

“I’ll be right up babe.”

You smiled at his pet name. A pet name that he’d adopted for you that morning after you’d first become intimate. It made you feel bubbles in your tummy and your smile spread from cheek to cheek. You were a whipped woman and you fucking hated it. Or did you?

“Okay”, you said as you set your phone on the counter top and began quickly focussing your attention to the instructions on the box, even though you were pretty sure it was just like it was in the movies.

Pee on stick, wait a few minutes, then you find out how fucked or unfucked you are.

Hearing a key twisting and turning in your front doors lock somehow made you so much more nervous now more than ever. What if he would be furious? He was calm on the phone, but what if he was just holding it all in? I’d never seen Rami mad, aside from when he was acting, and i really had no idea what to expect from Rami were he to actually be angry, sad, or mad.

See, that’s one of the issue with these situations. Me and Rami are still a fresh friendship. He wasn’t my best friend from elementary school that I grew up with and then randomly started having sex with. He was my costar whom I’d met only a few months ago and I didn’t know him inside and out just quite yet.

Not to say that we hadn’t gotten personal before. We both weren’t the type to fuck and then just leave one another for the evening. He or I always stayed the night after a vigorous evening and that means that we did get to talk to each other more. He told me about where his parents are from, I told him about my abusive father, he told me his nervous habits, and I told him my favorite flavor of ice cream. We were slowly but surely forming this bond that didn’t have a name, but we both felt it.

Two arms snaked around your waist as you peaked in the mirror to see Rami resting his head on your shoulder, giving you sympathetic eye contact.

“Doing okay?”

You shrugged, leaning your head to rest against his. “Could be better”, you slightly smiled.

“Well, lets get to it then. How does this thing work.”

You nearly laughed at the way Rami was looking at the pregnancy stick, as if it were a foreign object that was from a mythical land that you needed to go through some type of labyrinth journey in order to acquire the knowledge that granted you permission to use it.

God, he’s so cute.

“Well we don’t have to do anything, but i think I know what to do Ram. All I do is pee on the thing, wait a few minutes and then we’ll see what it says.”

Rami nodded, “So want me to give you some privacy while you, ya know, pee on the thing.”

“Get the fuck out”, you laughed and playfully shoved Rami out of the door way, closing the door behind you.

Okay, now or never I guess.

You obeyed the instructions listed on the box, word for word, and once finished, you set the test on the counter.

Carefully, reality started to slip in front of your eyes like a lens. Prior to this, sure you knew you’d be taking the test, but now, Rami was in your apartment and you were about to go search for him as both of you waited to find out if you’d be having a child together or not. This was so real, so entirely real and it wasn’t dreadful, that was the oddest part of it all.

Yes, if you were pregnant it would completely put a twist on yours and Rami’s life plans, but it wouldn’t be god awful. He was a nice guy and he clearly wasn’t losing his shit too much over your pregnancy scare so he wouldn’t just dump the child on you and leave. This could work.

As you twisted the door handle and let the door fall open, you faintly heard the sound of music seeping in from somewhere to the far east side of your apartment.

As you made your way down the set of stairs, you could make out some sweet little singing accompanied with a Motown song as you got closer and closer to the kitchen, and there he was. Swaying his hips around your kitchen, seeming to be without a care, and... was he eating your leftover pizza?

“Oh no you don’t!”, you quickly snatched up the box containing your precious and much anticipated leftovers from the night before and proceeded to put the cold food back into the fridge, but not before grabbing yourself a slice as well.

“What?”, Rami muttered, mouth entirely full of the delicacy that is cheese pizza.

“I was saving that for the perfect occasion,” you pouted before snagging a bite of the cold, yet acceptable grub.

“And what occasion would that be? Watching sad movies alone in your underwear?”, He quirked an eyebrow at you, clearly wanting to tease.

You shrugged and took another massive bite out of your pizza, to which Rami laughed with a hand over his mouth, trying to keep all of his food still in his mouth.

“Clearly it’s my ‘waiting for a pregnancy tests results’ pizza and you reduced it to some minuscule Motown fest you were just having.”

Rami shook his head as he scooted his sock clad feet across the floor over to your standing position. His palms lay flat on top of the counter set behind you as he stood directly in front of you, placing you in some sort of confined space between his arms.

“How long have we got?”

You briefly looked down at your phone, “7 minutes now, was 10.”

He nodded while his eyes bore into yours, his nose gently nudging your cheek as he leaned in towards you.

You knew that look. He was actually trying to seduce you and put you in an intimate mood and at a time like this.

“Are you really trying to sex me up right now,” you giggled, placing your arms around his neck.

“Hey, if the test is negative then we’ll have to get this anxiety out somehow right?”, he began twisting a small piece of your curly hair around his finger as his forehead rested against yours and his grin spread to nearly each of his ears.

You pressed your lips to his; not a quick kiss, but not a slow one. A kiss that had become a normal kind for you both, Whether it be during your moments of intimacy or just when you fucking felt like kissing one another (which was becoming more and more often).

Suddenly, the sweet tune of ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’ began to play through your speakers. The upbeat drums were beginning to lead into the males vocal, when Rami got wide eyed.

Oh boy.

“Dance with me”, he so much as demanded, rather than asked as he began lip syncing the words while wrapping one arm around your waist and another joined his opposite hand with yours, entwining his lengthy fingers with your much smaller hand.

The neighborhood, hands down, could hear the sound of your high pitched laugh as Rami swung you around your kitchen, him mouthing the male vocals and you mouthing the female counter parts as you both swayed and twirled and acted out the parts of the Motown singers set back in the 60’s.

His much deeper laugh contrasted yours perfectly as he dipped your body towards the ground and used his hand on your lower back to bring the weight of your body back up to be face to face with him as the music began to fade out.

“That’s a great way to kill time.”

You nodded in agreement with Rami’s words as his thumb began to heat up your hand with its back and forth, soothing movement.

“Thank you.”

“For what? Showing you my Motown moves? All you had to do was ask baby”, you shook your head at the ever clever and always cute man in front of you.

“You know what I mean Ram.”

He nodded in agreement as his other hand came to the back of your head, cradling your face into his chest, his other arm sneaking around you in a comfortable embrace.

“I’d never let you deal with this alone, you know that right?”

You bit your lip as you nodded against the feeling of his soft t shirt that smelled so gloriously like him. His scent was enough to put a smile on your face and put your thoughts at ease.

“Whatever happens. We both deal with it, not just one of us, it’s both of our mess, not just yours or mine.”

Lucky. You were so incredibly lucky to have a friend like this glorious human being that was in your home. He was here, dancing with you in your kitchen in an attempt to distract you from what massive anxiety was building up in your belly, and maybe something else was building up in there as well.

Speaking of which.

You glanced at the oven, squinting your eyes at the red electric clock.

“Oh shit it’s been 15 minutes”, you practically run up the stairs, but half way up your nerves begin to set in.

You’re rooted to your spot, on the carpeted steps, as if you are a planted tree. Your hands begin to shake like branches in a steep breeze and your heart starts thumping erratically as the weather around you turns cold.

“God, you didn’t tell me you could sprint that fast”, Rami said, as he stopped behind you on your route to your bathroom.

His laughter ceased as he noticed your straight forward facial expression and he immediately took his hand into yours.

“Cmon”, he attempted to pull your hand, but you were having none of it.

You were truly frightened now. Because regardless of everything, regardless of Rami being responsible about his action and regardless of you and him having plenty of money to raise a baby, if this test turned out to be positive, yours and his relationship would change. Could be for the better, or it could be for the polar opposite. You couldn’t lose what you had with him and you were terrified that’s exactly what was going to happen.

“Y/N,” you didn’t reply, you were still so frozen in your thoughts to move or acknowledge Rami, even though you were hearing his every word and feeling his every touch.

“Baby.”

His soft voice was vulnerable and almost begging. You knew you couldn’t keep your eyes away from him if he was going to speak to you as if you were ignoring his desire to comfort.

You glanced at him with a vastly different expression then you had before when you were being waltzed around your kitchen to a jovial tune.

“Cmon, lets figure out if I need to go trade my new Mercedes in for some mom mobile.”

You shook your head, ignoring the light hearted joke he tried to ease you with.

“Hey,” he tucked his finger under your chin and moved your face up to look at him. “We’re in this together remember?”

A slight smile tucked itself into your lips as you nodded and squeezed his hand as you led him up the stairs into your bedroom.

Tag list:

@amcquivey @siriuslovesmarlene @sleep-all-day-and-all-night @kellysimagines @everybodyplaythegame @ramibaby @tyferbebe

If you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to drop me an ask or message and I’ll add you to it. Thanks again lovelies - hope you enjoy and feel free to send me your predictions for the next part ✨

#rami malek #elliot alderson #queen #rami malek imagine #rami malek social #rami malek x reader #mr robot #rami malek fic #snafu shelton #ahkmenrah #the pacific #busters mal heart #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #night at the museum #rami malek smut

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chaandknight · 6 years ago

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Let me | Brian May |

Summary: Brian just wants to be your man. You let him. 4.2k words

A/N: Inspired by anons and also the song Let me by the one and only Zayn I swear I’m not promoting his new album or anything.

Fluff isn’t my strong suit. Enjoy.

Tags: Fluff, smut, dash of angst, dumb word play, +18 content

Anonymous said: Could I get something with Soft Brian? Like fluffier than his hair? He’s just the sweetest human in existence, in my opinion. A picnic or night in with movies or like bowling lol 🖤

Anonymous said: Please can i have some soft brian may sin x it does things to my heart

This was a new call. Some new hotshot band you didn’t bother remembering the name of. Your friend had called, asking you come to the show and work your magic. You really shouldn’t of gone, an unfinished essay sitting on your table and seven other sheets of research journals to pour over and make notes for next week. There was a part of you that regretted getting into this life sty But you needed a break, so here you were. Crammed into a hall filled, people all around you. Honestly you couldn’t wait for the show to be over. People were ridiculous. You had the breath knocked out of you at least five times thanks to various elbows.

The band weren’t that bad. You actually enjoyed their music, finding yourself dancing along and singing blindly with them. After the band finished someone came up to you, security you presumed and asked you to come with them. You obliged, knowing full well why you were here. It wouldn’t take long, men were easy enough to seduce after a show. High off the show, not drunk enough for the after party yet. You just had to pretend to be interested, be sharp with your banter and not bruise your egos. You didn’t have a problem so far.

You were led to the bar at the back, the after party just starting. You thanked the man, making your way to the bar to order a drink. You made small talk with the people around you, not really paying too much attention to anyone. You suddenly wanted to get home, it wasn’t a good idea to come.

From the cheers at the door you could tell the band had just entered, you joined along with the crowd. Despite not knowing the band you still felt they deserved a cheer, it was a show well played. Not many bands could handle a crowd so easily like that. You stayed at the bar for a bit longer, watching the band disperse into the crowd. The blonde drummer already had a girl on his arm, he looked pretty enough to be a girl. Despite being exactly your type you didn’t want to work for his attention. The lead singer was the center of the crowd, still working off his stage persona, you didn’t want to work for his attention either. You divert your attention to the other two men. The guitar player and the bass player. The bass player seemed quite, more content just spending time with people instead of talking needlessly. Perhaps. You watched him for a while, wondering how he fit into the bands equation. Maybe it was your unfinished psychology essay that made you stay on the bar stool, slowly going through the crowd and coming up with fake personalities for each person in the room.

“Drink not strong enough?” you jumped slightly at the voice beside you, not expecting someone to be in such close proximity. The drink you had sitting on spilled, leaving a ring of beer around your glass and on your hand. You reached out for napkins quickly, not wanting the liquid to spill onto your clothes, he beat you to it though. “God, I’m so sorry. Let me, its the least I could do”

It was the guitarist. You smiled up at the tall man, the slightest bit intimidated by his height. He was busy cleaning up the spilt beer and so you had the chance to admire him for a bit before he finished. His hair was black, with curls falling down his shoulders and you had the urge to ask him if they were actually real but you bit your tongue. His lips were moving but you couldn’t quite remember what he said,

“Sorry, what?” you asked, confused. He just laughed, ordering you another drink.

“I’m Brian”

Sweet baby, our sex has meaning

Know this time you'll stay 'til the morning

You cleaned yourself up as best you could. However you couldn’t help your wrinkled clothes or the scent of sex that clung to you. Brian had gone to shower and you took that as your cue to leave. Usually they’d tell you to leave themselves, as soon as they were finished. But Brian didn’t seem like that. He was actually nice. Chatting to you at the after party, actually finding out your name and buying your drinks. You didn’t want it to be awkward so you took the decision into your own hands. Deciding to get dressed and leave before he came out of the shower. There was one problem though, you couldn’t find your bangle. The solid gold, priceless bangle that your late grandmother had given you. You dropped your jacket in frustration, going down to your knees to look under the bed. Something was sparkling in the light and you just knew it was your bangle. You reached out, struggling to get it.

“Where are you going?” Brian’s voice came from the door of the bathroom. You froze, sitting up, a sheepish smile on your face.

“I uhm...I was going home?” you said, unsure of yourself with the way he was looking at you. He frowned and walked towards you, a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Why?” is all he asked, confused. He seemed so genuinely confused that you couldn’t find it in your heart to turn him down. You took a beat to think up an excuse for leaving so soon,

“I wanted to get home, I’ve got class tomorrow”

“l’ll drop you off tomorrow, it’s not a bother” he insisted with a smile. He was on his knees, reaching underneath the bed and using his significantly longer arms to grab your bangle. “Let me,” he whispered, taking you hand in his. He took your arm, gently sliding the jewelry onto your arm. You felt your heart flutter, watching him kiss your knuckles gently before pulling away.

So you stayed the night.

Duvet days and vanilla ice cream

More than just one night together exclusively

You tried not to laugh, wondering just how long it would take for Brian to realise. He was eating his ice cream with such purpose, enjoying it so much that you didn’t have the heart to tell him that there was some on his nose. You grinned, watching him from over your glasses. Your ice cream was long finished, the summer heat forcing you to eat it messily before it melted. You never were the clean type, something Brian had teased you about mercilessly.

“You realise that I can see my reflection through your glasses right?” he asked, wiping his nose. You laugh, taking a tissue from the bedside table and wiping the rest off for him. You shrugged, turning your attention back to the book in front of you. A test tomorrow and you hadn’t left Brian’s flat for the past two days. You couldn’t believe yourself. He’d insisted on you coming over for the night, instead keeping you here for two days. Two whole days and you still felt like it had been just hours. The time passed quickly when you were with him. You had seen him more about three or so weeks. You wondered where all that time went, musing over the fact that you had stopped your band antics with your friends as well. You wondered if he had noticed. Or if he even really cared. Neither of you had discussed what this really was.

“Are you even listening to me?” he demanded, drawing you from your thoughts. You shook your head, a smile on your face. You tried hard to read the words on the book in front of you. You felt a weight drop on the side of your bed. You huffed, shuffling over to make room for the man who had just jumped on the bed. He rested on his stomach, his head on your thighs. He whined, actually whined like a puppy. “I need attention” he mumbled, trying to distract you by running his hands over your thighs. You pulled your legs away, trying to fight the smile on your face.

He reached out, but you were too fast for him. You pulled the book out of his grasp giving him a look. He didn’t falter under your gaze, instead sitting up and reaching over for the book you were just attempting to read. You leaned to the side, trying to push him away. You laughed as he covered your body with his in an attempt to grab the book.

“Oh, come on” he said, stretching out to reach the book. You pushed his chest, trying harder to stretch out your arm to keep your book out of reach. He adjusted his position, now almost laying on you to reach it. “Just, let me..,,get....” he strained, grabbing the book from your hands. You huffed crossing your arms.

“Brian I need that” You protested, trying to grab it from him. He dodged your attempts, sitting up reading the page you were on. He tutted,

“You already know all this, why do you insist on reading it again?” He remarked, throwing the book away. Before you could scold him for it his lips were on yours again, pulling you into his lap.

Baby, let me be your man

So I can love you

“Babe?” his voice came from down the hall. You were busy trying to gather all your things. Pens, pencils, calculator just incase. Notes shoved haphazardly into your bag. You would pass this final with flying colours. At least that what you told yourself anyway.

“Hurry up breakfast is getting cold!” he yelled out again. You suppress a laugh. He was very adamant about making breakfast the morning before an exam. You grabbed your bag, rushing through the kitchen. You grabbed the breakfast wrap he had made you, pressing a kiss to his cheek before chugging the orange juice. He smiled at his handy work, “Here, let me get your bottle. You always forget it.” he handed you your favourite bottle. You smiled gratefully.

“What would I do without my fantastic boyfriend?” you mused, not realising what you said yet. He grinned,

“So I’m your boyfriend now?” You laughed, pressing a kiss to his lips and running out the door.

And if you let me be your man

Then I'll take care of you

You blew your nose, doing your best not to make too much noise. Brian shook his head,

“You said it was just allergies.” He had a hint of annoyance in his voice, still fed up with your insistence that you were fine. And you were. You just needed to rest for a day or so and you’d be better. They were just allergies. That lasted a day. Or two. But he didn’t have to know that. You drew the blanket around yourself tighter, closing your eyes and trying to ignore his constant reprimanding. He seemed to be like your mother, mumbling about how you never took proper care of yourself.

“Bri, they are just allergies. I’m fine” you insisted, blowing your nose yet again. Maybe your voice was deeper than before, and maybe you had finished all your herbal tea in an effort to soothe your throat. He stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed. He wasn’t buying it.

“Just let me take care of you, stop being so stubborn” he pleaded as he walked up to you, gently placing his hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. At this point your head felt like it was filled with cotton. You just wanted to sleep and if letting him be a mother chicken was the only way you could do this, then so be it.

We're drinking the finest label

Dirty dancing on top of the table

You couldn’t name a better way to spend the year. The party was well underway and you found yourself in the middle of the makeshift dance floor. Laughing and giggling like a school-girl. Brian held you close to him as you danced terribly next to him.

“Brian” you murmured, wrapped your arms around him and trying to get him to dance with you. He just laughed, gripping your waist and pulling you close. “Why aren’t you drunk?” you mumbled, running a hand over his chest. Brian wasn’t really the one to let go, especially at a crowded party like this. You’d have to get him drinking now, just to ease the self control he always had. He pressed a kiss to your temple, guiding you to the couch that was to the side of the room.

You pouted as he pulled you into his lap, holding you close to him. He pressed a kiss to your neck, making you shiver. You hands were on his shoulders out of habit, smiling at him.

“Why won't you dance?” You asked, pecking his lips. He was clean shaven tonight, hair falling over his shoulder - as curly as ever. You let your eyes go over his profile, admiring how good he looked and how he was completely yours. You felt your heart flutter at that thought, fiddling absentmindedly with his hair.

“I want to see the fireworks properly” he confessed, tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. You nodded the slightest bit, encouraging him to continue. He let out a small laugh, leaning back against the sofa. His hands firmly on your waist, as if it was a sign to all the men (and women) in the room that you were his. It sent a thrill through your spine. Whenever you both were out he would have to be touching you somehow, some form of physical contact was needed for him.

“They're just….explosions you know?” He tried explaining. You tilted your head, still confused as ever. He pulled you closer, so you were resting against his chest.

“Let me explain properly…” And that was it for the two of you. The party long forgotten, you were captivated by his explanation of fireworks. You both somehow drifted from that topic to space, supernovas and such to exact. Maybe it was just how time passed when you were with him. Maybe it was the twinkle in his eye when you showed enthusiasm whenever he ‘nerded’ out. But in that moment you realised,

“I love you” you blurred out, interrupting his explanation about the formation of the Earth. He paused, processing what you said. You bit your lip, trying to stop the nerves forming. You had no idea how he would react. He tried to stop the smile on his face. Tried to hide it but he couldn't. Instead, he leaned forward, enveloping your lips in a kiss.

“I love you too” he whispered as he pulled away. Your heart soared, and you wished you could describe the feeling that was coursing through your veins. You were so filled with love for the man in front you. The only thing you could do was pull him close and kiss him over and over. He reciprocated with just as much enthusiasm. The two of you stayed that way for god knows how long, just kissing each other. You pulled away properly first, leaning your head on his shoulder, whispering those three words again. You couldn’t help it - you really, really meant them.

“You know love is actually a chemical reaction?” He supplied helpful. You laughed, lifting your head up to look at him,

“I know.” you pecked his lips, “studying psychology remember?”

Maybe you hadn’t noticed that everyone had cleared out of the room, crammed onto the balcony. It wasn’t until Freddie came parading in, plopping down on the couch next to you did you realise that the count down was already over.

“Happy new year loves!” he declared, grabbing your face and planting a kiss straight on your lips. You jumped back, mortified. “Fred!” you exclaimed. You looked to Brian, to see what his reaction was, but your view was blocked by the back of Freddie’s head.

“Thought I’d share my new years kiss with everyone I love!” he declared, getting up and literally flying off to god knows where. You watched him disappear into the crowd. Brian and you looked at each other for a second, before laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

He pulled you back into another kiss.

Long walks on the beach in April

Yeah, I promise, darling, that I'll be faithful

The day had been too long. You were tired and drenched in sweat. Maybe it was everything that had happened in the past week leading up to your foul mood. Your final essay, fifty thousand words long, lovingly typed up and rewritten three times had somehow been set on fire. Your request for an extension, also ruined by a tea spill. Your car breaking down, your best shoes being broken. It was just a bad week for you in general. To top it all off you were left alone in yours and Brian’s shared flat.

He hadn’t called in three days, which was rare for him. Usually he’d call as soon as he got into a new town, giving you the number for the next hotel they were booked at. The lack of phone ringing made your anxiety grow. You had spent the past two nights by the phone, practically begging it to ring. It was probably nothing. He was probably tired from playing every single night and then travelling to a new venue the next day. Busy with interviews and such.

That was until you had heard whispers from your friends, something about groupies and the band. A friend of a friends who managed to seduce one of the band members, coming back to them again and again after three shows. You felt your heart sink. It couldn’t be Brian...Could it? John was head over heels in love with his girlfriend, Roger didn’t bother with connections, Freddie was much the same as Roger. That left Brian. Your Brian.

Your thoughts were working against you that day, constantly coming up with various scenarios. It was your insecurities praying on you, the previous line of unfaithful boyfriends coming back to haunt you. You grew tired of the gossip, you excused yourself not bothering to say goodbyes and headed home. The past weeks exhaustion came crashing down on your as soon as you stepped through the door. You crawled into bed, only bothering to kick off your shoes before wrapping the blanket around yourself. You tried convince yourself that Brian was here with you as you drifted off to sleep…

You woke, images of Brian and some other woman in your head. You felt sick, tears already forming in your sleep riddled eyes. You felt like you couldn’t breath for a few seconds, the thought of losing Brian to someone else too overwhelming for you. The phones ringing still continued. For once you were thankful to be dragged out of sleep because of the phone. You made your way over to the counter where the phone was attached, picking up,

“Hello?” your voice was thick with sleep.

“Oh god, I didn’t wake you did I? I checked the time I thought it would be okay to call?” Brian’s voice came from the other end of the line. You felt a lump form in your throat, the thoughts from before weighing on you, forcing you to grab the phone set and sit on the floor.

“No, no.. I uhm..” you wiped away stray tears falling, cursing yourself for falling apart like this.

“Darling? Is everything alright?” concern in his voice. You sniffled, trying your hardest not to burst out crying,

“I just… Miss you and my friends were talking about some groupie and how she’s with the band all the time and how she’s made one of you fall in love with her and you’re ready to elope with her and I just didn’t want to think it was you but what if it was and I couldn’t handle it Brian I fucking love you and I hate being so far apart from you and I just -” you were cut off from your blabber,

“Sweetheart, we haven’t been at a show in three days” he explained. You paused, tears still on your cheeks and mind still racing.

“What?”

He just laughed,

“Our bus broke down in some desert. We had to wait for two bloody hours until someone drove past and gave us a ride. Let me tell you, the town we were in was horrendous. Honestly it had dirt everywhere and I can’t even begin to describe the smell…..”

You zoned out for a second, processing his words. Your heart leapt, all your worst fears were just that. Fears. You took a breath to steady yourself.

“I’d never betray you. You know that right?”

Give me your body and let me love you like I do

Come a little closer and let me do those things to you

You were going to explode. At least, that’s what it felt like. Waking up to have Brian’s head between your legs was almost like a dream. He had chuckled when you stirred, remarking about how long it finally took for you to wake up. It didn’t take long for him to get to work once you were awake and willing, threading a hand through his curls. His tongue was skilling in eliciting the loudest noises from your mouth. You could feel it against your clit and you let out yet another moan, afraid that the neighbours would wake.

You were a mess as his tongue explored your folds, bringing you to the edge faster than you could possibly imagine. Your hands alternated between tugging his hair and gripping the sheets on your sides. It was like you had no control over your body, your mind only focused on one thing. You gasped his name, feeling your breath quicken. You were close, the only thing coming out of your mouth was his name, chanting it over and over like prayer.

You let out a breathless moan as you came, one hand tugging his hair and the other fisting the sheets. You let your eyes close, trying hard not to float away into another universe. That was until his fingers were on you again. You could of cried when he slipped a finger into you, coaxed in easily by your own wetness.

“Bri...…” you whimpered, gasping at the intrusion. He shifted, now laying next to you, thumb against your clit and pushing another finger into you.

“Relax darling” he murmured, pressing kisses to your collarbone. “Let me make you feel good..”

This feeling will last forever, baby, that's the truth

Let me be your man so I can love you

“Stop fiddling and just let me take the photo” he whined, trying his best to get a good shot of you in your graduation gown.

“God I can't believe I'm actually here” you remarked, fiddling with the flimsy cardboard in your hands. Brian chuckled, placing a hand over yours to stop you from tearing the graduation program further. He put his camera back into his back, stepping closer to you. He pulled you closer, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

“You worked hard to get to this point, love” he gently titled your chin up so you could face him. Your nerves were getting the better of you. Your stomach was in knots and you could feel your hands shaking. You looked at him, uncertain and shaken with anxiety. He just smiled back, the same reassuring smile he always gave you during late night study sessions. The same smile he gave you when you went to submit your final essay. The same smile he was wearing when you were about to open your results letter. It grounded you, shushing your anxiety so it was just a faint hum in your head.

“Now, you're going to go up there” he started, adjusting your hair the slightest bit, “you're going to shake the Dean’s hand” he made sure your cap was on properly. “And you are going to walk off the stage” he kissed your nose “like the Queen you are” he finished. You gave him a small shove, smiling despite your previous anxiety attack. You pulled him into a hug, on your tippy toes so you could kiss his cheek.

“Thank you” you whispered into his ear before pulled away. He grinned,

Baby, let me be your man

So I can love you

And if you let me be your man

He was on one knee, ring glinting in the candlelight. You felt tears prick at your eyes. Honestly speaking you had found the small box a week ago. You had hid it well, unable to stop the butterflies building in your stomach. It was just a matter of when. He didn’t disappoint.

Brian had brought on the beach for a picnic. You didn’t expect it then, it was normal to go out for picnics. But when he dropped to one knee as you were getting ready to pack up you couldn’t help the small gasp.

“I had an entire speech prepared, a song as well but I honestly can’t remember any of it..Let me be your husband… please..” he pleaded, eyes desperate. He was a little unsure, sure you had talked about it before but there was still a part of him that doubted himself.

You nodded frantically, dropping down to your knees. Unable to helpful yourself, you kissed him, almost toppling him over onto the sand.

Then I'll take care of you,

For the rest of my life

For the rest of yours

For the rest of ours

Requests are closed, but feedback is always welcome!

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marvelhead17 · 5 years ago

Text

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable Fic)

Chapter 13

Summary: “How did you fix it?” he asked. “Ask Ellen the Teenage Warhead,” Wade shrugged as he stood up, “As for baby Hitler he ended up having a diaper change, funny story I was actually going to call Cable since he was so keen on killing Russel, I thought this would be like taking candy from a baby, if that means replacing it with a bullet that is,”

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

Word count: 1.7k

One Week Later

“Wade, whatever happened to that kid Russel?” Hayden asked as she took another bite of her breakfast.

“Oh Baldy McWheelchair decided that he could join the school, said it’d be good for the kid to be around other kids and have a more normal life than the purification shithole he was stuck in before, along with the other kids that were with him.”

“Oh good,” she pulled a face, “Wade I’m sorry but your cooking is shit,” she stood up to toss the rest of food in the garbage.

“I’m surprised you even tried it,” Nathan said before taking another mouthful of his omelette.

“Friends support each other’s attempts at things,” she shrugged, “But seriously Wade how the hell did you manage to ruin scrambled eggs and toast this badly?”

“I don’t know! I followed the recipe perfectly! Two eggs, a quarter cup of vodka, salt and pepper-”

“Vodka? You added vodka to the eggs? Wade what the hell!” she gave him a look and then put the dish in the sink.

“I thought you could use a buzz early in the morning and nothing says buzz like the hard Russian stuff,”

“You were hoping to get her drunk weren’t you?” Nathan gave him a look.

“Okay you got me!” Wade held his hands up, “I’ve always wanted to see you drunk, I thought it might loosen you up a little, ya know?”

“What, I’m too serious all the time?” she stopped washing the dish and turned to face him.

“Sometimes, yeah,”

“First of all, I can’t get drunk, I’ve had an entire bottle of the strongest alcohol I could get my hands on and it was ninety-six percent of bitter after-taste.” She stood inches from his face now, “And second of all, screw you,” she hissed before she walked out the room.

The men watched as she left before Nathan turned to look at Wade.

He nodded, “Nice going asshole,”

* * *

“HE’S GOING SUPERNOVA!” Deadpool yelled, with a hint of excitement. He turned to Cable who frowned at him, “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“Not if I can help it,” Colossus bounded forward into the towering orange flames that were transforming into a shade of blue.

“Colossus wait!” Hayden started after him but a cold hand grasped her shoulder and yanked her back.

“He can handle it Hades,” Cable said as she looked at him incredulously and shook his arm off.

The three waited for Colossus, their anxiety growing by the second, with bated breath.

“BOZHE MOY!” Colossus ran towards them, his skin colour was bright red and his eyes were wide, he turned to glance back at the fire and shook his head, “Is too hot, even for me.”

Cable’s cyborg eye glowed and he looked at his arm, “His temperature is going to eventually reach cosmic levels if we don’t stop him,” he put his arm down and looked back at the others.

“How hot is that? Some of us were high school drop outs,” Deadpool said.

“So hot it’ll actually kill your fucking ass,” Cable said seriously.

Deadpool whistled, “Damn,”

“Out of the frying pan into the fire,” Hades suddenly spoke, they looked at her, puzzlement clear on their faces.

She pushed the sleeves of her shirt up her arm, revealing her glowing violet scars, she blinked and her eyes were bright violet to match, before she ran straight towards the fully blue flames.

“WAIT! Are you crazy?!” Cable tried to run after her but she was engulfed by the flames, the others pulled him back as the flame grew larger, they all winced with their hands covering their eyes from the intense heat despite their distance from the chaos. A male voice boomed in the centre of it all.

“YOU CAN’T STOP ME I’LL-”

Silence.

The flames dissipated to smoke, the ground surrounding was cracked and dry as if it had seen no water in the last thousand years, and there she stood towering over the figure of an unconscious man.

Cable let out a breath of relief until he realised that something was wrong, Hayden appears to have at least triple the scarring on her body than before, he started walking forward thinking that his eyes were playing tricks on him and then stopped in his tracks.

“Best knuckle-sandwich I ever gave,” she beamed at them, her skin dimmed to its usual colour, well as usual as it could be with the black soot that covered it, they all gawked at her.

Colossus cleared his throat and spoke up, “Um- Hades- you’re- uh,” he removed his X-Men’s jacket, leaving his chest bare, and quickly handed it to her while looking the other way. “Take this.”

“I don’t understa- oh my god,” she quickly grabbed the jacket after having a look at herself.

Colossus rubbed the back of his neck and coughed looking away, Deadpool wolf whistled while Cable swallowed hard before shaking his head back to reality.

“Thank you Colossus,” her cheeks went pink.

“It’s official you can’t be my sister anymore, not after I’ve seen you naked because damn,” Deadpool remarked.

She zipped up the huge jacket on her small frame and touched her head in confusion, the hair was singed off but it was already growing back, leaving her with a five o’clock shadow of sorts.

“Also Comrade Titties, I’ve never had more of a hard-on than I do right now, you should do all your missions shirtless. That way you can seduce the bad guys into surrendering,” Deadpool winked at Colossus who coughed uncomfortably. “The way I’ve already surrendered myself,” he commented to an unknown audience.

Hayden walked over to look Deadpool in the masked eyes; “If you say anything else I will castrate you and force feed you your own dick, got it?” she didn’t blink as she said this.

“You think she’s still angry about earlier?” Deadpool asked Cable.

“Gee, what makes you think that moron?” he replied sarcastically, “The fact that you put alcohol in her breakfast, or that you practically called her a kill-joy?”

“Wade you put alcohol in her food? Where did you even find alcohol, we do not supply such things,”

“Exactly why I got a guy on the outside- and wait, Haydes you’re still mad at me for that?”

“Mad? I’m beyond mad,” then she turned to Colossus, “You have the collar right?”

“Da.” He handed her the collar dangling from his pants pocket.

She crouched down next to the unconscious mutant and placed the collar around his neck before activating it, she then lifted him over her shoulder and made her way to the X-jet, they all stared at her in wonderment before she turned around.

“What?” her eyes flashed violet quickly, her hair sprouted further out to reach a boy-cut length.

“Nothing.” They said in unison which made her eyes roll.

“Let’s just get Johnny Storm here on ice and head back home huh?” she sighed and put the mutant into one of the seats and buckled him in.

“Da. This is good idea.” Colossus headed inside the jet and sat himself down into the pilot’s seat and turned the engine on.

“Johnny Storm,” Deadpool snickered, “Nice one.” Hades only glared at him.

Cable and Deadpool took their seats and the group sat in silence for the long trip to the Ice Box. Colossus handed over the criminal mutant to the guards outside while the two men and Hayden remained inside the jet.

She was not particularly in favour of anyone seeing her in what could perceived as her wearing her lover’s clothing, and both Cable and Wade had practically destroyed the place with their little fight over Russel months ago and weren’t keen on finding out what kind of welcome party might be waiting for them if they dared to go in.

* * *

When they had reached the mansion they were greeted by Domino, Ellie and Yukio. They were glad they had returned safely and that the mission was a success, the men walked in first and Hayden walked in last looking extremely displeased, the girls raised their brows in question to her clothing and hair that had already grown to bob length.

“Apparently Target’s clothing isn’t fire resistant and neither is my hair,” she said with a hint of bitterness. “So Colossus was kind enough to give me the shirt off his back, literally,”

“Why didn’t you just ask Colossus to get you a uniform?” Ellie asked.

“A uniform? I’m not part of the X-Men,” she said confused.

“No duh,” Ellie rolled her eyes, “You can still get official X-Force uniforms though,”

“I’m listening,” Wade suddenly popped his head into the conversation.

“You have a uniform Douche,” Ellie said feeling irritated and pushed his face away, “What I’m saying Hades is that you can get a uniform that won’t disintegrate, it won’t tear easily, and it can be whatever you want it to be. Right, Colossus?”

“NTW I’m uncertain Professor Xavier will be very impressed if I used facilities for non X-Men people,” Colossus said nervously.

“Oh come on Colossus, do you want to have to give her your clothes every time hers gets destroyed? It’s very inconvenient and you know it,” she lathered the last bit on sweetly. “It’d be much more efficient to have her own uniform suited to her abilities than to strip in front of Wade,” she added.

“Fine, you have convinced me.” Colossus said as he glanced at Wade who was busy shining the metal man’s body with scented oil. “Wade, enough please.” He gently moved the man away from him. “I will be back once I am appropriately dressed.”

“Aw Colossus, wait!” Wade yelled as Colossus left the room, “You smell great!”

“Nyet, Wade!” Their running footsteps faded away as they went further into the mansion.

“Well I better get dressed too,” Hayden looked at herself before clearing her throat, “Where can we all meet up to start this whole uniform thing?”

“I think we can just meet up in the rec room,” Ellie suggested, Hayden nodded before walking up the stairs; Nathan’s eyes followed her as she walked. The jacket was very wide but not long, leaving her legs exposed to his line of sight.

Ellie cleared her throat loudly making Nathan turn and look at her, “Been a while since you boned someone huh?” she asked with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face.

Yukio elbowed her softly, “That’s not appropriate!”

“But it’s true, isn’t it Cable?” she cocked her head to the side, the smirk growing bigger.

“Teenagers,” Nathan grumbled, rather flustered with his own behaviour himself.

He wouldn’t admit it to Ellie of course but it was true, it had been a very long time since he’d had sex.

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>> Chapter 14 <<

#deadpool #deadpool 2 #colossus #piotr rasputin #wade wilson #original character #russell collins #fire fist #nathan summers #cable #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #hayden jones

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melissatreglia · 6 years ago

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Darkiplier in 2017: An In-Depth Look (Part 4)

(Memory a little rusty? Read Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 before going forward.)

"Well, I've got a news flash for you, brain trust. That's not how it works. You die, and a demon sets up shop in your old house, and it walks, and it talks, and it remembers your life... but it's not you."

- Buffy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (2x07: "Lie to Me")

So, here it is: the long-awaited final installment of my Darkiplier in 2017 essay.

Remember when I said anything could happen for the remainder of 2017? Well, it basically did. The final quarter of the year brought with it an explosive finale... that is to say, a fascinating origin story.

But we'll get to that in a moment.

Prior to the events of October and following in the wake of the Darkiplier vs. Antisepticeye vid, we were given quite a few bits, bobs and teasers of the horror to come.

In the second Try Not to Smile Challenge, our favourite Youtuber remarked that "I've turned my heart into a stone-cold ice cube of death. All joy has been purged from me in every way possible, and I have no smiles left for anybody." Then he added, with his usual sardonic humour, "It's #smilenever up in this bitch." He promptly spent the remainder of the video looking like he was in agonizing pain from the human experiences he was observing (and intermittently groaning and growling from his frustrated attempts at self-restraint).

A deceptively simple game titled V appeared on Mark's channel in September, and included a seizure warning as a result of its visual style... a style reminiscent of Dark's attention-grabbing, almost painful aura. Chook and Sosig: A Case of Murder is a quirky little diversion that follows a ghost chicken and a noodly-limbed cat as they solve the mysterious death of a popular entertainer (a writer, in this case). Another strange little vid, this time an animation of Mark's Firewatch playthrough, was also released. Though the dialogue is actually taken from a game that had been played a year prior, Forrest Byrnes' lines about death lying in wait and being unable to leave are also oddly fitting.

The artistic black-and-white game I woke up next to you again. contained themes that, upon reflection, are consistent with the overall narrative of Darkiplier's character. Its story is of an attractive, enigmatic stranger (whose appearance is occasionally marred by a subtle glitch effect) seduces you, slowly drains you of your life and ambitions, until you are left an obsessive and hollow husk of yourself. Interpretations vary on what the story of "I woke up..." means (including that it might be a metaphor for drug addiction), but the real meaning is left intentionally vague by the programmer. The being your character is faced with might very well be a soul-devouring demon, for all one knows... especially given that the "girl" in question doesn't appear in the picture you show of her to a friend.

Following the events in early October, Mark joked during his play-through of The Evil Within 2 that the force-feeding mother was "speaking in multiple voices... a clear sign that that might be Darkiplier over there. I think she turned grey when the lighting changed..." (a clear reference to the insanity the fandom was gripped by earlier in the month). In a later episode, Mark eyeballs the rather dapper villain Stefano bathed in dim, moody lighting and quips, "Friggin' Darkiplier up in here."

The rather silly nyoom vid, created to promote Mark's new merch line of holographic M shirts, features the same distorted RGB effect we've become familiar with in Dark's appearances... although this time, it's all a bit of harmless fun with Chica set to a dubstep soundtrack. In Constellation, Mark jokes to "run away!" from the 3D effect the game offers, before conjuring what he dubs a "Darkiplier teapot".

During the Emily Wants To Play Too livestream, Mark comments that the "Let Her In :)" note left on the dry erase board is "some Darkiplier-level shit," adding that everyone now knows what happened with Damien and Celine, and later jokes that the tall stranger looks "dapper... in his suit... y'know that guy's lookin' a little grey. His skin turns grey; I think it's Darkiplier." He's unable to contain his mirth, however, and giggles a bit as he talks.

The vid ...Bonbon Loves You... offers an unsettling description of its events, where the bunny-shaped demonic imaginary friend provides his constant companionship... for a price. "You can never escape! You'll never need to escape! YOU'LL ALWAYS HAVE A FRIEND FOREVER!!" Prison Island likewise has a chilling description of its own, of a mystery that's been covered up and that "something terrible has been going on in the shadows and it's come back to haunt you..." The title for the vid of the game Deathlike Awakening also warns us "Don't move... don't breathe..."

There was also the short song “The Man With No Shadow”, a brief acoustic piece which had strange and surreal lyrics in honour of the solar eclipse.

My personal favourite of these teasers, however, has to be the easter egg contained in the finale of Mark's Popgoes play-through. Mark appears distracted as he hears a disturbance in his IRL vicinity, and he removes his headphones to stare out to his left (presumably where the door is). A voice that sounds similar to Wilford Warfstache declares offscreen, "Don't you worry!" Another voice, sounding suspiciously like Darkiplier Himself sneers in a somewhat muted rejoinder, "I'll get you." Mark stands motionless as the webcam view briefly warps, before the recording continues as if absolutely nothing happened.

But of course, this all pales in comparison to Who Killed Markiplier?, the four-part miniseries Mark created on a limited budget that's arguably his magnum opus. There's a reason it took me more than a year to write this part of the essay, and this taut 43-minute film is the reason why. It made me love characters I'd never met before, and even though I had a sickening feeling in my stomach as to their fates. Even knowing the monster Damien would become, and how broken William's psyche would be... I was still woefully unprepared for the onslaught of emotion I felt by the finale.

WKM has been analysed from every angle by the fandom at large, so I'm going to focus on providing a brief recap here.

We, as the viewpoint character of the District Attorney, are invited to Markiplier Manor for poker night. We're greeted by the Colonel and hand our invitation over to the Butler, before having a brief conversation with Damien, the newly-elected mayor. The chef warns us to stay out of his kitchen as the butler offers us a drink. Markiplier (well, this universe's version of him, anyway) descends the staircase and the night of drunken revelry begins.

The following morning, we're offered a seltzer with cocaine as a hangover aid by the butler (cocaine was a fairly common ingredient in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, including in children's cough medicine), and Damien greets us. We wander aimlessly around the house, and are startled by the falling body of the newly deceased Markiplier. The detective, who'd also been invited the night before, proceeds to question the party-goers and examine the body. The mayor enters the scene and, showing his capabilities as a calming influence, asks for any information that can be gleaned. Damien then exits, ostensibly to talk to the Colonel, and clearly more disturbed by the events than he's previously let on.

The DA is drafted in as the detective's partner, and we overhear an argument between the Mayor and the Colonel. Damien angrily storms out, and we take the opportunity to discuss the matter with the Colonel. He promptly tells us a story about what he thinks happened, laying it on rather thick in the process and leaving no question as to his hostility towards their deceased host.

The Butler leads us down into the wine cellar, before having a nervous breakdown about a broken bottle in the middle of the otherwise pristine floor. We go back up the stairs an are confronted by the Chef who, after some tough talk, offers some recorded (FNAF-style) footage of Markiplier and the Detective discussing the house's employees some nights prior. We then exit the house, and talk to Damien some more about his confrontation with the Colonel. Damien feels lost amid these events at the moment and has retreated to ponder matters for himself. We're soon called back in by the Detective to discover that Mark's body has now vanished.

The cast of characters reconvene in the room where the body was to discuss this turn of events, and the Colonel points out that there's a "storm" coming. The Butler and the Chef resolve to lock the building down, with no one getting in or out, until the matter is resolved. The Detective takes us up, down and around the inside of the house until we eventually get to the master bedroom.

The bedroom is a mess, but we find three pictures of Mark, Damien, the Colonel... and Mark's ex-wife, Celine. The Colonel talks with us about his relationship with Damien (which is more positive than his relationship with Mark). Damien briefly pops in looking for the Colonel, but just misses him... twice. Damien then pulls us aside, saying that he'd "stake [his] life" on the Colonel's innocence, and that he suspects that there's another "guest" in the house no one knows about.

There's a sudden round of gunfire, and we rush in with Damien to find that the Detective and the Colonel are at a standoff. Then Celine barges in.

Everyone quickly catches her up on the events that have occurred thus far, and Celine points out that the lightning strikes indicate something supernatural is afoot. Celine proposes a séance to talk with the deceased Mark. After Damien reaches out in concern for her dabbling in witchcraft and she rebuffs him, Celine takes us with her to a quieter room where she reads the tarot and reveals that there are "dark forces" at work inside the manor. Her magickal influence enables us to go through time, seeing alternate events and getting a hint of what's to come.

But the answers we find aren't enough to satisfy her, and she grows angry with us, demanding that we "go back" into our visions. Damien and the Detective interrupt, with Damien putting a stop to the séance and the Detective dragging us away as Damien and Celine argue. The Detective shows the picture we've drawn to the Butler and the Chef, and it's revealed that the Groundskeeper (who hasn't set foot inside the house in over a decade) might know something.

Damien goes with Celine back into the séance room, while the Butler goes to find the Colonel. We, the Detective and the Chef go to talk to the Groundskeeper. The Groundskeeper resolves not to go in the house unless there's one specific "incident, one manifestation" that comes to pass.

There's a flash of light and the sound of thunder, and everyone rushes back into the house to reveal that Damien is gone and Celine is now possessed by a demon... the demon who's been lurking in the house the entire time, and who's aura is a familiar red and blue hue.

Most of the group decides to exit the house while they still can, with the exceptions of the Detective, the Colonel and the DA (ie. us). The Detective and the Colonel vanish and we're pulled into a darker, shadow version of the house that seems frozen in time and is echoing with the voices of those who fled. The demon of the house releases us from its grip, and we stumble upon the Detective's study... replete with the papers and evidence we weren't privy to before. The Colonel happens upon us in the study and becomes furious, thinking the Detective framed he and his friends.

The two are in a standoff once again, before the Colonel's gun goes off twice... purely by accident. One shot hits Abe. The other hits the DA (us) and we fall over the banister and crash to the floor.

In the space between life and death, we see the images of Damien and Celine. She's glowing red, and he's a soft blue. "Damien" is angry and lost, blaming Mark for what happened. "Celine" concurs, also blaming Mark for the events that transpired... and together they hatch a plan to release themselves from the void and back into the world. (All the while, a deep and demonic voice mockingly echoes their words, as if they are mere puppets.)

Damien then says these fateful words:

"Honestly, I don't know what the fuck is going on. But I know that I trust Celine. And if you trust us... just let me in. We can fix this. Together."

Celine then adds:

"I won't force this on you. You have a choice here. Just know this is the only way that you can escape."

And because we, the DA, have no real choice in the matter (as if death is a choice!), we agree. The images of Damien and Celine recede as we're driven back to our body. We get up, confused and disoriented with the daylight streaming in, and find the Colonel holding onto Damien's cane like a security blanket during a vigil near our body. And we watch, with growing horror and sadness, as the Colonel's mental state deteriorates. He hobbles away, calling out to the friends who will not and cannot answer him, leaving Damien's cane behind.

We reach out to the cane, with a small feminine hand which changes form into a man's larger hand. Our perspective tilts and it appears to be Damien in the mirror, looking bedraggled and exhausted as he contemplates his cane. He cracks his (broken from the fall) neck and we're thrown into the mirror, it cracking with the force and he storms away, leaving us behind without looking back.

Damien, if that was indeed him at all, is not the man we knew. Not anymore. He's long gone. What remains is made of demonic energy and rage; the demon of the house won. That being is now the one we call Darkiplier.

To lighten the lugubrious mood of the mini-series, Mark simultaneously released four "Jim News" shorts, featuring the Jims wandering through the house in an attempt at investigative reporting (ie. Mark goofing off on set, between takes). The legit bop that is "Fly Like a Butterfly" is another form of relief, that features in its music video scenes from Markiplier Manor and, of course, the handsome as always Darkiplier adorned with massive butterfly wings.

Hints at the expanded universe were also laid during Mark's play-throughs of Doki Doki Literature Club, specifically in the descriptions, which featured poetry based on the lives of the characters in Who Killed Markiplier?. Part 1 features a poem of Wilford Warfstache (hinting at his transformation from the Colonel), the District Attorney in Part 2, the alternate Markiplier in Parts 3 through 5... and what may be the Detective in Part 6 (though Monika's trapping the player in her world and the thumbnail of Sayori with a cracked/broken neck are both reminiscent of Darkiplier).

Likewise, Mark in the description of Party Hard Tycoon hopes to "party hard and hope no murderers show up!" In The Silent House, he says "this house is nothing but pain and suffering and also it can't talk..." The setting of The Sexy Brutale involves time travel to stop a murder at a gathering in a luxurious home. Sleeping Dawn's thumbnail is a dead body with a toe tag of "Y/N" (the typical reader insert fic's notation to insert your name, and the same notation provided on the invitation for the DA).

Markiplier also jokes that the channel isn't real and about being a paid actor during the 7th episode of his Slime Rancher Let's Play. In the otherwise adorable platform game I may die!, he plays a character whose house is surrounded by an empty void... that he promptly falls into.

Arguably however, the linchpin among the latter portion of the year’s hints is the HD Renovation of Spooky's Jumpscare Mansion, where a familiar resonant and echoing voice narrates:

"For as long as you can remember, legends have been told about the derelict mansion upon the hill that casts a blanket of darkness over the town. The history of the house itself is virtually unknown, and even the town’s oldest residents cannot remember the mansion’s origin. Being an avid history enthusiast, you embark up the mountain to visit the manor. Hoping to shed some light on the backstory of this crumbling fortress of darkness."

Sounds familiar, in more ways than one, doesn’t it?

But it doesn't even end there.

Only a few short weeks after the release of the final chapter of Who Killed Markiplier?, Mark released his Van Vlogs. One of these, the World's First Pop-Up Haunted House vlog, hinted that there was something more going on in the beginning, with some ominous music and the static on the van's TV growing louder. What was hinted at finally came to fruition in November. Another van video was released, titled Don't remember. In it, the viewer character has dozed off in the empty van and is woken in the dead of night.

A deep voice faintly says "Do you remember? I said we were going to do great things together. Go back to sleep."

Of course, it was Damien who had hoped that the prospect of working with the DA (the viewer character from Who Killed Markiplier?) would mean great things for the city he was elected to represent. In DoomVR, Mark finds himself trapped between life and death, before reviving and going forth to battle demons. Something which, in light of the events of WKM, doesn't seem too far-fetched now. Additionally, the ending to Part 5 of FNAF's Pizzeria Simulator spells out the words "S-A-V-E H-I-M". In light of possibilities yet to come, it could mean we have to try to save Damien himself.

But that is, as they say, a story for another time.

The description of the finale for Unforgiving: A Northern Hymn asks "Is it the end we really want? Is there a way to prevent the inevitable?" The ending, of course, is a leap of faith followed by the disappointing reality of having been deceived by a demonic trickster, and forced to live through the same events over and over again. It is a revelation reminiscent of the muddled timeline throughout the origin stories of Wilford Warfstache and Darkiplier, two characters who were born years before on the channel, but whose origins did not come to light until the events of Who Killed Markiplier?.

But, I believe, Mark saved the best for last with two sadly coincidental questions on the light-hearted game Would You Rather?. Two days before the end of the year episode 11 of this game was released and, among the game's queries, two particularly heart-wrenching questions were asked.

The first was "Would you rather lose your mind or lose your significant other?" Many have pointed out that both happened to Wilford Warfstache, having lost his mind in the wake of the bloodbath of Who Killed Markiplier? along with his beloved Celine becoming merged with Damien and the demonic entity to become Darkiplier. Mark answers, after weighing the cost of both options, that he’d rather lose his mind than someone he loves.

The second, which he leaves for us, is "Would you rather be stalked by a ghost for the rest of your life, or be stalked by a demon for three days then die?" Of course, the latter actually happened in Who Killed Markiplier?. After the first three episodes, released from October 10th to the 12th, our character (the DA) was shot and fell from a banister on Friday the 13th.

Like in Who Killed Markiplier? itself, we’re left with a question that’s difficult to answer. The biggest of the all the questions anyone can conceive being simply this:

So, what happens now?

#darkiplier #damien the mayor #celine the seer #markiplier fandom #analysis #fan review #darkiplier in 2017 essay #vid: who killed markiplier?#vid: don't remember

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fandomimaginesftw · 7 years ago

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The Shield

A/N: I’m finally back! Sorry about the lack of content, but I finally got the muse for this. I just want to warn you, this is probably the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written. Ever. I’m actually thinking about making this more than one part, so...That should be fun. So, this is part one?

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Reader, Dean Ambrose x Reader, Seth Rollins x Reader

Warnings: smut, foursome, spanking, oral (female and male receiving), mention of Daddy kink, semi public, fingering, sex without a condom (wrap before you tap), slight dirty talk.

Word Count: 3,128

Part Two

~~~~~~~~

You watched the tv, a proud smile pulling at your lips. Your best friends, Seth, Dean, and Roman, were currently kicking ass. The crowd cheered so loudly, you could even hear the screams from their locker room. They loved the Shield, and you couldn't blame them. Not only were they amazing athletes, they were also insanely attractive. You had always believed that no one had any business being so attractive, let alone three people.

You were fortunate enough to have befriended all three of them shortly after you started working for Raw. You met them after your first match when they had come up to congratulate you. You remember being immediately smitten by all three of the men in front of you. All of them treated you with such kindness, and they took you under their wings. There were almost immediately rumors around the Raw office that you were sleeping with at least one of them. Some people said that you had been sleeping with all three. You took it with stride, and you were pretty sure the guys had no idea what people were saying.

Your reminiscing was cut short when the door to their locker room opened. You saw the three towering men walk into the room, your cheeks flushing a bit, as they normally did when those three were around. You looked up at them, smiling and offering your hand for a high five. They all three obliged, starting to talk about the match and the plans that Vince McMahon had for them. You sat on the couch, looking at each of you best friends and admiring them in their natural and relaxed states.

Roman was currently pulling his long black hair into that man bun that you were a huge fan of. Although you loved when it was down and flowing, something happened inside of you when he put it up like that. His brown eyes were concentrating on Seth, who was taking over the conversation. He was excited that he pulled off a pretty badass DDT, the bright smile on his face radiant and contagious. Dean agreed, running his fingers through his already messy hair. He ran his pink tongue across his lips, wetting them slightly. You found yourself mesmerized by it, your mind wandering to places where it shouldn’t be. Your thoughts were suddenly filled with questions, like what else could he do with that tongue?

Your mind was going a million places at once, your thighs instinctively squeezing together because of the unholy thoughts you had in your mind. Roman called out your name, snapping his fingers in your face to bring you back to reality. You blinked, looking up at him. You blushed softly, looking over the three of them before standing. You apologized, grabbing your bag and swinging it over your shoulder. You congratulated them and left in a hurry, feeling a bit too embarrassed to stay. They all watched you leave, then looked at each other for confirmation that that just happened.

After you left, the three of the men decided to sit down and discuss what had happened. They all agreed that you had been really strange lately, Dean suggesting that maybe the rumors were starting to get to you. Seth had thought that maybe you were nervous because you were supposed to go to your first public outing for WWE without them. But Roman knew better. He shook his head, telling them exactly what was going on: you had feelings for them. They started talking it through, coming up with a plan to find out if it was true for sure. They decided that they would commence the plan after your match the next day.

The next day, your match had gone almost perfect. They had you scheduled against Nia Jax, and you were supposed to win by pin fall. You did, but there was a bit of a mix up in the routine. Nia had calculated your move wrong just enough to injure your ankle. Probably didn’t help much that you were distracted most of the match. You two played it off as if it was intentional, though she immediately apologized backstage. You told her that you’d be okay and not to worry about it, trying to walk it off. You limped back to your locker room, needing to sit down and give your ankle a rest.

You opened the door, not surprised to see Roman, Seth, and Dean waiting for you. They had looks of concern as you wobbled over to your chair. You started undoing your boot, hissing in pain when you pulled it off. Roman walked over to you, kneeling in front of you. You watched him as he carefully took your sock off, a soft hum vibrating his throat. He looked up at Seth, asking him to grab an ice pack. When you asked how bad it was, he chuckled.

“You always seem to get yourself injured, Y/N. I thought you two worked on the routine nonstop.” Seth got him the ice pack, and he gently put it to your skin. You jumped a bit at the sudden cold sensation on your throbbing foot. You sighed, explaining that you and Nia had been busting your asses to get the routine down. It most likely had to do with the fact that you were slightly distracted by some specific men. You saw Dean walk over, standing behind you. He placed his larger hand on your shoulders, starting to gently massage them. You relaxed back into his touch, a soft smile on your face. Roman’s fingers started to untie the laces on your other boot, the pressure starting to let up. You looked up at Seth, whose gaze was currently tracing over your outfit.

“When did you decide to change your ring attire?” His hand slowly traced over the material, making your skin rise under his touch. You blinked a few times, watching his hand as it continued to move over your slightly more revealing ring outfit. “It looks really good on you, Y/N.” He smiled softly down at you, pulling his hand away. You almost asked him to continue touching you, but you held your tongue. You looked down at Roman, who glanced up at you as well. The way he was positioned made your head race. His face was so close to your lap, and the thoughts you had made you suddenly sit up. Dean’s hands stopped moving on your shoulders, but they stayed put. You started to stand, but Dean ducked his head down to where his lips were right beside your ear.

“Why do you seem so nervous, Y/N? You feeling okay?” He leaned over to where he could look at you. You turned you head a bit, meeting his gaze. Your lips parted to speak, but nothing came out. He had never been this close before, and it was fucking with you head. You started to come up with an excuse, but you saw Roman’s tan arms rest on the chair’s arms. You looked at him, his face very close to yours. You swallowed thickly, your eyes falling to his lips before looking back up into his eyes.

“Y/N, we know what’s going on. We know why you’ve been so weird around us lately.” His large hand cupped one side of your face, leaning even closer to you. Your breath was caught in your throat, not believing that this was happening. “We know you’re into us, and we want to give you what you want.” You raised a brow, looking at Seth, who nodded in agreement. Roman moved your face so you were looking at him, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “Tell me to stop if you don’t want this.” He slowly leaned closer, soon pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes closed, taking in everything about the moment. How soft and gentle his lips were against yours, the way his hand lovingly held your cheek. His other hand rested on your hip, then slowly grazed up your side. You shivered under his touch, arching into him very slightly. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, seducing a moan from your throat. He pulled away, stepping back to let one of the other men have their turn.

You looked up as Dean now stood in front of you, suddenly wrapping one arm around your waist. He pulled you up out of the chair, meeting your lips with his own. His lips immediately moved against yours, a slow and teasing pace. You matched his pace, your lips feeling as though they were made for each others. One of your hands reached up into his hair, tangling into the mess of his light brown locks. You’ve wanted to do this for so long now, you barely registered it in your brain as actually happening. You pressed your body against him, needing one of them to actually touch you. You could feel him poke your inner thigh, and your head got all cloudy again. Before you could act on it, though, he pulled away. A small whimper left your lips, and he couldn’t help but smirk slightly. You looked at Roman, and you almost melted right there. His eyes were glazed over with lust, and maybe a bit of jealousy.

Seth suddenly pulled you against him, his broad chest against your back. He started kissing your neck, making you bite your lip. You leaned your head back just enough to where he could have easier access. His hand ran up your top, his cool fingers a bit shocking to your hot skin. You felt another pair of hands raising the top of your outfit. You raised your arms, helping Dean get it over your head. You now had your chest exposed to the three men in the room. You opened your eyes, wanting to see who was where. Roman walked over, standing to your side. Dean kissed the top of your chest, slowly making his way down. Roman’s hand gripped the flesh of your thigh before he slowly raised it until it was just above the waistband of your tight shorts. He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for permission. You nodded, needing to feel something.

With the nod, he slipped his fingers through the waistband of your shorts and underwear, caressing over your slit. You moaned, looking down in time to see Dean’s tongue leave his mouth to flick over your nipple. You moaned again, arching your back. Dean then took your nipple into his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your hardening nipple. Romans fingers found your clit, his thick fingers rotating over your sensitive bud. Seth started sucking on the skin of your neck, sending your body into overdrive. Your hips started to move against Roman’s fingers, curses falling from your lips. Roman took the opportunity to enter his two first fingers into you, making you gasp and moan. Dean then switched nipples, making sure each one got enough love. You felt the heat in your stomach start to get hotter as you got closer, your hand grabbing whatever was closest. It happened to be Roman’s free wrist, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He leaned close to your ear, biting your earlobe.

“You like riding Daddy’s fingers, baby girl?” You moaned again, louder this time as you got closer to the edge. His deep voice vibrated against your ear, and you didn’t know how much longer you were gonna be able to handle this. As the three men continued what they were doing, you felt yourself becoming undone. You reached back to Seth, gently gripping his hair. He moaned in your other ear, sending more shocks of arousal to your core. Roman curled his fingers inside of you as he pumped them, making your eyes roll back and your lids close over them. You started cumming on his fingers, loud moans filling the room.

When you came down from your high, you let out a shaky breath as Seth pulled away from you. Roman pulled his hand out of your shorts, immediately tasting you on his fingers. You watched him, biting your bottom lip. Dean pulled back from you as well, his pupils dilated. You took off your shorts and underwear, completely naked in front of him. Dean looked you over hungrily, and you pulled him into another kiss. It was a bit different this time, more desperate. You hand ran over his jeans, feeling how tight they were against his cock. He moaned, his hips bucking into your hand. He suddenly lifted you up by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. He walked over to the couch, placing you down on the armrest. He let you go, making you fall back, Your hips were still raised up by the side of the couch, and that’s exactly what he wanted. You watched as he sank to his knees, shrugging his jacket off and his shirt with it. He hooked his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

Before you realized what he was doing, his tongue found your clit. You moaned in surprise, but his tongue quickly made you shiver. You knew he’d be good with his tongue. He swirled it around, then wrapped his lips around your bud. Curses started falling from your lips and that’s when you noticed the two other men watching. Seth was touching himself to the sight of Dean eating you out, and that turned you on even more. You motioned from him to come over, and he happily obliged. As Dean worked his magic, you unbuckled Seth’s belt and got his pants off. His dick sprang free, and you pulled his closer, raising your head so you could take him into your mouth.

Your tongue started mimicking Dean’s, swirling around Seth. He moaned and so did you, Dean’s fingers entering you as he sucked on your clit. You did your best to bob your head on Seth’s cock, hollowing your cheeks so you could suck even harder. As Dean started to get you closer to the edge of your second orgasm, you worked hard to get Seth close as well. You could tell he was almost there, and your legs started to shake. The heat in your stomach got intense as Dean added another finger. You moaned around Seth, making him start to cum into your mouth. He pulled away from your lips, quickly stroking himself so he could cum on your chest instead. You lied back, letting his hot seed land on your chest. You screamed out as you came again, your back arching deeply, Dean holding your hips in place.

As you were coming down from your last high, you watched Roman as he made his way to you. Dean went to the other side of the couch, kneeling on the area above your head. Roman took your hand, lifting you up. You were shaky, but you did your best to stay upright. He peppered kisses down your neck, then turned you around so your back was to him. He moved some hair from your neck, kissing just under your ear.

“It’s our turn to cum now, Y/N. Get on your knees.” You nodded, doing just as he said. You heard his belt start to jingle, excitement coming over you again. You looked at Dean, who was also undoing his belt and jeans. Your mouth watered at the thought of tasting him. Roman’s hands ran over your skin as he admired your ass that was right there for him. You continued to focus on Dean, your hand starting to stroke his shaft. He bit his lip, looking down at you as his hair fell into his face. Your tongue then ran up his length, making a breathy moan leave his lips. You felt Roman poke at your entrance, then he slowly entered you. He started to stretch you out gorgeously, his dick bigger than you expected.

His hips started rocking into you, his thrusts enough to make your body move with him. You continued to work your mouth around Dean when Roman’s huge hand landed on one of your cheeks. You jumped and moaned, making Dean sink farther into your mouth. He poked the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex. He moaned your name, starting to rock his hips into your face. You felt Roman’s hand grip your ass tightly as he started pounding into you. His other hand ran up your spine, making you shiver. His fingers then tangled into your hair, pulling it back. You head raised and Dean started to graze against the roof of your mouth. You looked up at him, driving him crazy. He moaned, his hand gently holding your chin in place. You felt him twitch inside of your mouth, knowing he was close. You were on the verge of your third orgasm for the night, and your were in pure bliss.

Your walls tightened around Roman, making him groan your name. Dean hit his high, his cum filling your mouth. You kept eye contact with him as you swallowed all of his load, He then pulled out of your mouth, caressing your cheek with care. You blushed, then suddenly moaned loudly as Roman pulled your hips closer to him. He filled you to the brim, your walls starting to tighten around him even more as he got you closer. Your head fell forward as you let him rock your body, and soon after, your third orgasm ripped through you. He came son after you, filling you.

When he pulled out, you flipped over on your back and lied back, letting your body have a break. You’d never experienced something like that, but there were no complaints. You closed your eyes for a moment, your head completely empty yet full at the same time. One of them spoke, but you couldn’t really hear them at the moment. After what seemed like a few minutes, you were able to to come back to. You opened your eyes, sitting up. Your body ached, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. You got up, but immediately sat back down from how wobbly your legs were. Your three best friends couldn’t help but chuckle at you, and Seth walked over to you with your clothes. You thanked him, starting to get dressed again.

“So...what does this mean? Like, does this change anything between us four?” You suddenly asked, looking up at them. They all three looked at each other as they got their clothes back on, probably wondering the same thing. Roman came over at sat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh.

Tag(s): @empathiclight

#smut #wwe smut #roman reigns x reader #seth rollins x reader #dean ambrose x reader #wwe #roman reigns #dean ambrose #seth rollins #poly smut

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