#Please be sure to read the trigger warning this one gets (a little) intense

[silverskye13]

In which there's a shadow in the room, and a shift in perspective. [And also a trigger warning in the beginning chapter notes]

[whimsyvixen]

𝔼𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕪 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤

Silent Hill Fic Rating: 18+ Pairing: Pyramid Head x Female Reader Synopsis/Excerpt: His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you. WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark fic, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, explicit content, blood play, heavy NSFW, teratophilia(?), monster/human, choking, dacryphilia, rough sex, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, tummy bulge, creampie, very obvious size difference. ⚠️ READ THE TAGS: Please be aware this work contains content that the reader may feel uncomfortable with or otherwise triggered by. DO NOT READ if bothered by tags (no minors). ⚠️

A/N: I had to make sure to finish this one before Halloween! Sorry for the long wait, you guys! I got no tricks with me so I'm just going to hand over this little treat right here ! 🍬

You hid beneath a large table, hands over your mouth to control your breathing as the floor shook. You could feel your heart beating intensely, the organ wanting to burst out of your chest as pure terror seized you when the footsteps paused near your hiding spot.

He was right in front of you. The only being you encountered in the desolate town of Silent Hill.

The monster.��

~

He had emerged out of an alley, swarmed by bugs as he trudged his way through, his massive frame freezing you in place. His head was encumbered by a steel frame, pyramid in its shape and heavy in appearance if his tortured groans were anything to go by. His scarred torso and bulging arms were bare, showcasing the immense power he held as he dragged a massive knife behind him.

You couldn't contain your gasp when you caught sight of it.

His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you.

Fuck!

You bolted then, nearly tripping over your own feet in your desperation to get away from him. With the amount of blood soaking him and those unnerving growls, you weren't willing to take a chance and find out what he would do to you. Too afraid to look back, you continued running in the abandoned town, losing sight of where you were as you tried to find somewhere to hide. 

What buildings you could make out were old and rundown, their windows smashed and doors creaking ominously. They would not provide you with the cover you needed. You could faintly hear him behind you, breaking into a cold sweat when you turned your head and couldn't spot him in the dense fog. 

When you caught sight of the abandoned school, your lungs felt like bursting and your legs ached from overexerting yourself to run. Your body needed to rest before you collapsed from the fatigue. It was a large enough building that finding you would be a tasking ordeal for the monster. Perhaps he would give up his search for you and allow you to find a way out of this hellish place. You could only hope that you lost him earlier and he wouldn’t know where you crawled off to. 

Running up the steps to the entrance, you were met with the despairing sight of chains wrapped around the steel doors. 

“No, no, no…” you pleaded, grabbing onto the chains in hopes they were loose enough to open the doors. Luck was on your side, because they were– chains pulling taut around the doors, opening just enough to allow someone to squeeze through with some difficulty. Struggling to wiggle your way through, you pushed with all your might and breathed a sigh of relief when you fell inside. 

Taking deep breaths, you looked around and tried to make sense of your surroundings. Needing to squint your eyes to adjust seeing in the dark, you could see a narrow hallway with dirty and rusty lockers lined along the walls. It was an uncanny sight, the broken down doors of the classrooms and splintering wood of the floor making you realize how decrepit this place was. It was so unkempt and old that you flinched when the floorboards creaked with every step you took. You felt like dying every time the floor protested your weight and critters ran spooked by the noise.

The hall turned a sharp corner to the left, more lockers and doors appearing on either side of the walls as before. It was then you noticed the broken elevator, the metal frame twisted in sharp angles and torn cables dangling from tears in the ceiling. If there was an elevator here, then that must mean there was a way up! 

Not caring this time about the noise you made, you hurried to the end of the hall trying to see if you could find some way to get to the second floor. If you could just get there, you would have the advantage of viewing who (or what) was below you on the ground. Maybe even spot a route or path out of this place. Passing by the restrooms, you nearly gagged when a putrid stench hit your nose. The buzzing of flies and roaches in the area made you squeamish, your face scrunching into a disgusted grimace at the dirty facilities before continuing your trek forward.

Finding the stairs was a much harder task than you expected. Faced with multiple locked areas of the building, you were forced to backtrack and navigate through other sections of the building to find another way up. It seemed like a dead end everywhere you turned. 

Just when you were about to give up, you finally spotted stairs leading to the upper floor. 

“Finally,” you muttered in exasperation. Your turtle neck shirt was damp with your sweat, clinging to your body so uncomfortably that you would definitely need a shower soon. Placing a hand on the cracked wall nearest you, you took a breather, closing your eyes as you tried to get your energy back up again. 

“Just a little bit more. Don’t give up yet.” 

Forcing your aching feet to move, you headed tiredly towards the stairs. Once you reached them, you walked up to the landing, turning left to continue climbing forward when you noticed something. 

“You have got to be kidding me?!”

A disbelieving look crossed your face. In front of you was a dilemma that nearly made you scream in frustration. The only way to the upper floor was barricaded with chairs and tables, furniture piled up haphazardly along the second set of stairs as if to ensure no one could get by it. It effectively put a stop to your plans. 

Maybe you could climb over the obstruction? No, you couldn’t risk something falling out of place and crushing you with its weight, causing you harm in the end. You thought about using the railing to skip past the hurdle of furniture, but hearing the creak of the brittle handrail when you held it had you rethinking that idea. Placing your hands on your hips, you tried thinking of how to get past this obstacle. Maybe taking it apart little by little would help?

Seeing as you had no choice, you started dismantling the barricade one chair at a time. The tables were too heavy and had your arms shaking from the effort of pulling them so you left them for last. Once you piled up enough chairs to give you room to move one of the tables, you shook your hands to prepare them to take the brunt of the weight. 

While you were busy with this task, you didn’t know you damned yourself.

What you didn’t know was when you squeezed through the gap of the entrance, your sweater caught on an edge and tore a strip of the pink cloth. You didn’t know it was like a beacon, its vibrant color contrasting from the dull and bleak setting of the school. You didn’t know he held it in his bloodied hand, bringing it to his hidden face as if to smell you. You didn’t see the shudder that went through him. You also didn't see him bursting through the shackled entrance of the school, breaking the chain to pieces as the steel doors lay bent beneath his foot.

However, you did feel the building shake following a loud crash. 

Startled at the muffled explosion, you released the legs of the table you were holding, crouching as you looked around wildly. The echoed sounds of doors being forced open could then be heard even from a distance. Lockers were slammed and torn off the walls, the clash of metal producing an awful screeching sound that resonated across the empty building.

What?! What was that?! You panicked internally, palms sweating as you hid behind the railing. What could’ve made that thunderous sound? Was it him?! It couldn’t be, could it? Trembling with fear, you realized you were a sitting duck. You couldn't go back the way you came or you’ll risk facing what caused that loud commotion.

When you heard a familiar growl, you couldn’t stop the tiny sob escaping your lips. It was HIM! When his steps edged closer to your location, your eyes wandered desperately around your cornered space and spotted a clothed table at the bottom of the stairs. Running down the stairs, you all but crawled beneath the table, tucking your feet in as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. You didn’t have any other option. The cloth provided you with enough cover to pull off not being seen and you could only pray you weren't found.

Eyes wide with fear, you held your breath when he turned the corner, the floor trembling with every heavy step of his boots. You could also hear the scrape of the giant sword he dragged with him, the shrill sound hurting your ears. You nearly bolted when you heard the locker doors being opened one by one before getting slammed shut.

Oh God, please, don't let him find me. Please, please, please. You shut your eyes tightly, clasping your hands against your mouth as you tried to keep as quiet as you could. The corner of your eyes teared up, a lump in your throat wanting to give way to sobs of distress the closer he got.

~

His trudging steps slowed as he surveyed the area. 

Pyramid Head tilted his head curiously, his helmet creaking with the action. He didn’t know where you hid but he could sense you near. When he pressed that piece of fabric to his helmed head, your intoxicating aroma set his nerves of fire, twisting his mind into a lustful haze–the urge to pillage and kill you getting stronger by the minute. 

When he heard that soft gasp earlier in the alley, he was stunned by your feminine form mere meters away from him. You were a small thing compared to him, the top of your head not even reaching his chest. Whatever surprise he felt was momentary, desire quickly flooding his veins as he drank in your lovely shape. How long since a pretty thing like you entered this infernal domain? How easy would it be to subdue you and make you a slave to his lust? What sounds could he coax from those wet lips of yours? His member twitched to life beneath his withered skirt, the thought of possessing you clouding his mind with lascivious images of your naked body beneath him.

When he took a step towards you, you ran like a frightened lamb.

Watching you turn around to flee– the distance growing between you with every passing second– Pyramid Head gripped his weapon tightly, anger consuming him as he followed right after you. 

As if he would allow you to escape him. 

He would take you. Tarnish that soft flesh and desecrate your soul until you were nothing but a bloody heap beneath him. 

He just needed to catch you first. 

Opening the lockers one by one, he couldn’t suppress his frustrated grumbles when you weren’t there. Where were you? He shifted his attention to the familiar clutter of furniture on the staircase, noting how neatly some chairs were piled in a corner–knowing that the times he’s ventured here, the chairs were never tampered in such a way. 

Realizing how close he must be to capturing you, he started up the stairs, dropping his weapon without a care as he tore down the barricade in a frenzy to find you. 

When his search proved fruitless, the veins in his arms and neck became more prominent from his fury. WHERE WERE YOU? Blind with rage, he smashed his fists against the broken furniture and the rotting walls, tearing everything in his wake as he roared loud enough to make his helmet vibrate violently from the sound. It hurt enough to cause him to rupture something and bleed, trails of blood dripping down his neck to mix with the blood of his other victims.

As he stood breathing heavily on the landing of the stairs, trying to shake off the cloud of anger consuming him, a faint creak was heard downstairs. He twisted his body to look behind him, crazily observing the area where he heard it from. 

There was a lone table. The once white cloth adorning it was an ugly shade of brown, time not being kind to as it had torn holes ruining it. He could care less about the useless piece of cloth. What had his undivided attention was the dainty fingers that could be seen poking out beneath it. 

There was a moment of silence before he charged down the stairs. 

Gripping the sides of the table, he flung it across the hall, old wood shattering to pieces when it smacked against the railing of the stairs. He paid little mind to the destruction he created, his focus landing entirely on your meek figure below him. A look of horror crossed your face, mouth open in shock as you stared up at him. A rumble of contentment echoed within his helmet having finally found his prize, quickly dropping down to his knees to grab you and pin you between his legs.

It didn’t take much to overpower you, Pyramid Head sitting on your thighs to lessen your squirming. Bunching the pink fabric in his hands, he tore your sweater apart like paper, your startled scream doing little to deter him. His bloodied hands groped the exposed flesh hungrily, smudging your torso with the red substance as you shrieked in disgust. The way the softness of your tummy gave under his firm hands had him addicted. He loved how weak and pliant your flesh was.

Your mounds were a sight too, spilling off the cups of the small band around your chest. He tore that off easily too, your bust jiggling from the action and making him groan at the sight. Much to his pleasure, he saw your skin pebble with goosebumps, the cool air of the room turning your nipples into tight buds.

His hands moved, thick fingers stroking over your breasts to test the doughy texture. You gasped, arching from the pressure, unknowingly pushing your chest against his palms. Much to your chagrin, the rough pads of his fingers sent a fire bolt careening from your nipples and through your quivering belly to ignite heat into your core. You bit your lip, ignoring the sensation as you tried shoving his hands away with your feeble strength. When he tugged harshly on the tips of your breasts, you let out a pained whine, the kittenish sound sending a shock of pleasure down his spine. He wished to tear you apart, bathe in your essence as he drank up your tortured cries.

He was reluctant to pull his hands away from you, your body smeared in a beautiful canvas of blood, but his need to fully claim you could not be denied.  Pyramid Head removed his hands from your breasts with a final rough squeeze, shifting one to rub his erection to alleviate some of his need, while the other hand trailed down to caress your clothed hip possessively.

He was bewitched by you, reverently stroking your skin with bloodied hands to dirty your purity. Shielding your breasts from his view, you were a vision with your head turned to the side, choking on a sob as you realized that despite how your mind protested his brutish touches, your body betrayed you when slickness dripped between your thighs.

At war with yourself, you didn't pay attention when his attention turned to the last article of clothing preserving your modesty.

Easing up on his weight, he shifted his body down to tug at your black jeans. When the tight fabric stuck around your hips, he grew irritated at the minor inconvenience. Before you could voice out a protest, he roughly flipped you over onto your stomach, shock coursing through you when he tore the denim to shreds at your sides, dragging the rest of it down your legs and taking your panties and shoes with them.

You could feel the heat in your face at the state of your nudity. He caressed your ass then– forcing an undignified yelp from you at the offensive touch– squeezing the globes on either palm, his nails digging into the fat hard enough to leave lasting bruises on your unblemished skin. 

"N-no! You're hurting me!" 

You hissed between your teeth, sharp aches blossoming from where his fingers pressed on your ass. You shivered with disgust when the blood on his hands dirtied your globes, matching it with the mess of your front.

Brushing a calloused finger along your vulva, he was met with the heat of your pussy. It had your body jerking to attention, the blood draining from your face in an instant. When he tried to insert the bloody finger inside you, you shook erratically, your hands scrambling for purchase on the floor to get away from him. 

Tired of your antics, he twisted you to your back, uncaring of the yelp that left you when the back of your head hit the floor with a loud thud. Holding you down with one hand around your neck, he nearly choked you as he began pulling impatiently at the fastenings of his long skirt to jerk himself free with his other. His body shook with excitement, enticed by your naked flesh even as you begged sweetly under him. 

He paid little mind to your frantic scratching on his arm, the pain miniscule when compared to the hard throbbing of his cock— the twitching member pulsating so strongly that it had his mind blazing from the painful pressure, a groan of distress escaping him the longer it was kept confined. Pain that would only be soothed once he was encompassed by the tight walls of your pussy. 

~

The state of your mind went into a panic when you saw it. What lay between those muscled thighs was a monstrosity. It would bring you nothing but pure anguish and misery, the way it could barely spring upward with its heavy weight. Accompanied by an equally heavy set of balls and prominent veins lining the length of it– it was more of an instrument of pain than that of pleasure, meant to punish and brutalize those that fell victim to it. 

A whimper left you before you started thrashing in earnest, clawing away at his arm to get away from that. 

"LET GO OF ME! NO! Y-YOU CAN'T-!" 

You didn't care that he could snap your neck in a second, didn't care that he could rip you limb from limb or crush your head with his bare hands. Those were much better options than the alternative he was hellbent on pursuing. 

What the hell?! How can he be that bi-!!? Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt monstrous hands grip your knees and pull them apart savagely, screaming at the painful ache in your pelvis following the rough motion. He knelt between your spread legs, his large thighs forcing you open and leaving you unable to close your legs.

"W-wait! Wait! Think about what you're doing, please?! It's not possi-?!" 

The blunt head of his cock tapped your entrance, the pearl of precum mixing with your wetness as he tried to nudge his way in. His size proved too much for your smaller frame, his dick sliding up your vulva in a failed attempt to penetrate you. The insistent push of his hips had you holding your breath, body freezing in place when the head of his cock threatened to breach your cunt only to slide along your labia once more. 

The rough motion had you panting, the repeated nudging on your clit causing your pelvis to twitch from the erotic stimulation. You couldn’t stop your body’s reaction to him, a pulsating heat shimmering beneath your skin. Taking a glance down, you shuddered at the sight of his cock sandwiched between your spread lips. It had your feminine channel burning for him despite your fear of him. Shame accompanied your arousal as you felt more of your natural fluids coating the underside of his dick and flowing down your ass in rivulets.

While you lay gasping at the dizzying sensation, you were ignorant to his growing agitation when he missed his mark again. He raised your hips higher, giving himself a better view of your leaking hole before grabbing his wet shaft with one hand and lining himself up once more. This time he was determined to properly defile you.

Your eyes fluttered open when he adjusted you, looking up at him in confusion as you tried to clear your mind. The momentary pleasure he had given you was obliterated in a second when you felt the press of his cock head stab its first inch inside your dripping pussy. 

Like a bucket of cold water hitting your face, you shrieked when the reality of your situation set in. Flinching from his touch, you tried twisting your hips away from him hoping to dislodge the stiff cock from its journey inside you. 

"No! You won't fit!"

Bucking your hips uselessly, you failed to realize that your swirling hips moved pleasantly around the tip, a dribble of cum shooting out of his cock to coat your insides– making you gasp when you felt it and him shudder strongly at the feel of your sweet cunt. Seeing how you were so lubricated for him, he repositioned himself above you, bracing a foot on the floor while keeping the other leg bent at the knee. Grabbing the back of your knees, he pushed them forward near your head, effectively placing you in a mating press of sorts.

Not giving you any time to protest, he thrusted half of himself in one diligent push.

You yelped at the sudden pain, eyes nearly popping out of your face as you felt your pussy stretch beyond its limit. Glimmer of tears rushed to your eyes, the pain making your mouth wobble as he pulled away– the drag of his cock against your inner walls nearly causing you to faint– only to cry out when he thrusted back in with more force. More of his cock violated your sore insides, rendering you a screaming mess as he continued to plunder your wrecked form. Too scared to look at the damage between your legs, you pushed against his firm stomach, pleading for him to stop or he'll kill you. 

A sharp jab into your swollen flesh had you crying out, arching your back as tears trailed down your face. No manner of preparation could’ve made his passage bearable, the stark difference between his gargantuan size and your regular size evident as you struggled to accommodate him.

He took you like a brute. Not caring about your distressed wails.

It hurt.

Maybe the pain was making you delirious, but beneath the agony, there was a thread of pleasure seeping through the cracks. You refused to believe it, the thought of your body betraying you in such a way nearly crumbling you.

…

…

 Then why were your hips moving timidly alongside his?

~

His hands bit into your sides, Pyramid Head lifting your lower body off the floor to smack against him, driving the rest of his cock inside your spasming pussy with a low groan.

It was a tight fit. 

Once the entirety of his throbbing cock was seathed inside your warm heat, he took the time to glance down at you. You were a sweaty mess of blood and tears, pained gasps emerging from your trembling lips as your body twitched uncontrollably from his claiming of you. Your entrance was stretched taut around his engorged cock, the blood smeared on your pelvis making him wonder if it was yours or from him. 

He was immune to your choked sobs, not feeling the least bit remorseful of his violent taking of you. Rather, he was pleased you survived. Many didn’t make it past this stage, but you proved to be a pleasant surprise. 

The snug walls of your cunt suddenly clenched around his dick, nearly making him cum on the spot. 

He pulled his hips back, hissing when your walls clamped down on him, making the task difficult before driving forward with purpose. Before long, your soaked entrance made his movements easier, his dick sliding much faster inside your straining pussy. Pained cries turned into soft mewls, your hips eventually moving in tandem with his with every brush of your clit. 

He paused midthrust to stare at the bulge in your tummy in fascination. It was a ghastly sight– the way your lower belly distended from his cock penetrating you. He pressed on the bump in an inquisitive manner, jolting in shock when your channel clenched around him erratically, a stream of fluid splashing on his lower belly following your loud shriek. 

The shock was momentary, Pyramid Head rubbing your secretion between his fingers to play with the strings. Bringing them beneath the helm of his helmet, he was overtaken with the smell of your lust. Even though you couldn’t meet his gaze, you could feel him staring at you in a hungry manner. He gave you little time to be embarrassed, hunching over you to place your legs above his elbows, spreading you further and spearing into you with brutal thrusts.

He couldn't stop the rapid succession of thrusts, driving into you faster and faster as his release built up with every plunge inside you.

~

You twisted helplessly, opening your mouth to voice out your pleasure as fire spread throughout your body. His fierce pace had you writhing wildly beneath him, shaking your head at the growing tension in your stomach– signaling another approaching orgasm. You didn’t want him to stop. Your womb clenched with every harsh jab of his monstrous dick against it, the pressure escalating with every second of your ruin.

“O-oh! Please, please, please–!!” You sobbed, not knowing if you wanted him to stop his rough onslaught on your poor body or begging for more as his hips collided violently between the juncture of your thighs. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed along the hall, your passionate cries and his low groans forever imprinted on your mind. Your legs grew tired, falling lax on either side of him, unable to keep up with his vigorous pace. 

He used you like nothing more than a cocksleeve, molding the shape of his cock in your tight pussy, his sac slapping lewdly against your ass.

It became too much. 

Your mind went blank when the knot in your belly finally snapped, letting out a scream of completion when intense heat spread throughout your shaking body. Your vaginal walls gripped him tightly, trying to milk him for all his worth, the sudden tightness forcing a growl to emerge from him. Tears escaped you, the painful pleasure driving you mad in his embrace.

White lights danced behind your eyelids, your orgasm turning you into a puddled mess of ecstasy even as he continued to ravage you.

The last thing you felt before closing your eyes in exhaustion was a scorching heat filling your insides, calloused fingers rubbing the bump in your tummy in wonder.

❣️🖤❣️Thank you for reading~! ❣️🖤❣️

I got another treat for my dear followers! You gotta know I'm posting NSFW Art to go with my fics as well~ (*^ ‿ <*)♡

🎃Happy Halloween, you guys! Stay safe out there!🎃

Full NSFW Art here ---> (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

[rynwritesreid]

this is my first time doing a request and your work is probably the best i’ve read since i downloaded tumblr

could you maybe do an angst where spencer and reader are fighting over something she did in the field and he yells at her and raises his hand to run it through his hair but she got scared and flinched, maybe if you want to, have her run out and be gone for the rest of the day

i completely understand if this is way to intense or weird but anywyas tysm, happy women’s day🤍!!

A/N: I am so beyond excited to be your first request. Also I am glad you’re enjoying my writing:) don’t worry it’s not too intense or weird for me, I enjoy (idk if that’s weird or not) writing things like this. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you make more requests in the future my love💕

Summary: after making a mistake, or really a lapse in judgment, you and Spencer get into an argument. During the argument, Spencer’s moves some hair out his face, but this action causes you to flinch.

Content: mentions of DV, please do not read if that could trigger you in anyway. Fem!reader. Angst. Arguments. Fluff. Spencer seems like a bit of an dick, but he is very caring towards the end.

Masterlist|requests are open|navigation

You and Spencer didn’t normally fight, you had disagreements sure, but you both would resolve them pretty quickly. But this time, it was different. You had been, as Spencer had so gracefully put it, reckless.

*

Hotch had asked you to go check out this person’s apartment, there was no reason for anyone to believe that he was actually dangerous, but Hotch just needed to make sure. You had knocked on the door, told him you were FBI, and there was no reply. You tried the doorknob and found it unlocked.

Pushing the door open cautiously, you stepped inside the dimly lit apartment. The air was thick with the smell of musty furniture and old books. As you scanned the living room, something caught your eye - a glint of metal on the coffee table. You approached slowly, heart racing, and discovered a small handgun lying next to a half-empty glass of whiskey.

You were sure no one was around, maybe he had just left it there. But before you could properly react to the situation, a noise from the hallway made you freeze in place. The sound of footsteps was approaching, growing louder with every passing second. Panic surged through you as you realized there was no way out of the apartment without being seen. You quickly scanned the room for a place to hide, your heart pounding in your chest.

But you couldn’t find anywhere, and you didn’t have time to call for backup, or to warn the rest of your team, so you did what you believed anyone would have done in this situation and reach for your gun.

You gripped the handle of your gun tightly, your palm slick with sweat. The footsteps were just outside the room now, getting closer and closer. You held your breath, bracing yourself for whatever was about to come through that doorway.

As the man entered the room, you found yourself shouting out that you were armed and part of the FBI, and if he was carrying any weapons, he should place them on the ground. He didn’t respond, instead he seemed to laugh.

“They are putting little girls in the FBI now, huh?” The man's voice dripped with sarcasm as he looked you up and down, a sneer forming on his face. You tightened your grip on the gun, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a chilling intensity. "What's a young thing like you doing here all alone?" he taunted, his voice laced with malice.

You stood your ground, trying to keep your composure despite the fear coursing through your veins. "I'm here on official business," you replied, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands.

His laughter echoed through the room, sending shivers down your spine. "Official business, huh?" he mocked. "Well, sweetheart, you don’t look very official.”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let his words intimidate you. You stood tall, meeting his gaze head-on. "I suggest you cooperate and do as I say," you said firmly, your voice unwavering.

The man's smile faded, replaced by a cold stare. "Oh, I'll cooperate alright," he sneered as he suddenly lunged towards you. Instinct kicked in as you raised your gun, a warning shot fired into the ceiling.

The loud bang echoed through the apartment, a split second before the man froze in his tracks. He stared at you wide-eyed, realizing you meant business. Without missing a beat, you took advantage of his momentary shock and swiftly moved to restrain him.

With practiced ease, you cuffed, read him his rights and waited for the rest of your team to arrive.

*

You knew as soon as you saw Spencer’s face that he was angry with you, and you also knew that you were about to get into argument with him.

As the team arrived and the situation was under control, Spencer's eyes bore into yours with a mixture of concern and frustration. You could see the storm brewing behind his usually calm exterior. He didn't say a word as he observed the scene, taking in the sight of you standing there, gun still in hand, your expression a mask of determination.

Finally, when the suspect was escorted out of the apartment by law enforcement, Spencer turned to you, his voice low but filled with intensity. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes searching yours for an answer.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the chaos of the moment. "I had to act fast," you began, but Spencer cut you off with a shake of his head.

"That doesn't excuse recklessness," he stated firmly. "You could have put yourself in danger. What if he had been armed?"

“What is he had been? Well, he wasn’t, and I am alive, I am not injured, so why are you bring what if’s up.”

Spencer's jaw clenched; his frustration palpable as he struggled to find the words to convey the gravity of the situation. "Because you put yourself at risk unnecessarily," he replied, his voice tinged with worry. "We're a team, and we rely on each other to make smart decisions in the field. What you did today was impulsive and dangerous."

“Really? We are a team, and yet no one else is shouting at me. And if anyone should be, it should be Hotch.” you shot back, your tone matching his intensity. "I did what I had to do to ensure the safety of everyone involved. If you can't understand that, then maybe you're the one being reckless by not seeing the bigger picture."

Spencer's gaze hardened at your words; his frustration evident as he struggled to contain his emotions. "This isn't about me not seeing the bigger picture," he retorted, his voice edged with disappointment. "It's about you jeopardizing not only your own safety but the safety of the team as well. We rely on each other to make split-second decisions that won't put us in unnecessary danger."

Your jaw clenched at his words, feeling a surge of defensiveness rise within you. "I did what I had to do in the moment," you insisted, your eyes locking with his in a battle of wills. "I stand by my actions, Spencer. Sometimes we have to trust our instincts in the field, even if it means taking risks."

Before Spencer could speak again, he raised his hand to move some hair out his face, however, you flinched and moved back. “I’m, uh, sorry Dr Reid. I won’t do that again.” 

Spencer’s expression softened at your reaction, but he also seemed confused. See Spencer Knew about your previous relationship and about almost everything you had endured, but he didn’t know everything. But your sheepish expression, and the tears welling up in your eyes were a good indication that he had done something to spark old memories up.

Spencer's features softened further as he registered the look in your eyes, his concern deepening. He took a step closer, his voice gentle as he spoke. "I'm sorry if I crossed a boundary, I didn’t mean to startle you," he said softly, his gaze filled with understanding. "You don't have to explain anything if you're not comfortable."

But before you could answer, your fight or flight response took over, and you just ran away. You knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but you couldn’t do anything else. Spencer just stood there, unsure of what to do, unsure of why you acted that way. You knew he wasn’t actually going to hit you, and he didn’t realise that him raising his hand like that would cause that type of reaction, but it had happened now. 

As you ran through the corridors of the apartment building, your heart pounded in your chest, the echoes of your footsteps mingling with the rush of blood in your ears. Tears blurred your vision as you pushed past doors and down stairwells in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming flood of memories that threatened to consume you.

Spencer's voice called out behind you, filled with concern and confusion. "Wait, please," he pleaded, his footsteps quickening as he tried to catch up to you. But you couldn't stop, couldn't face him in that moment.

You kept running, your breaths coming in sharp gasps as you pushed yourself to go faster, to put more distance between you and Spencer. This seemed to make him give up on chasing you. He knew you needed some space, but he hated the idea of you been by yourself when you were feeling like that. 

When Spencer had returned to the rest of the team, JJ asked where you had gone, and he just responded he didn’t know.

*

Spencer and the rest of the team had returned to the precinct because they did have a job to do after all, they kept texting you to make sure you were okay. Spencer, however, hadn’t stopped calling you, leaving voicemails saying he was sorry. 

You kept your phone on silent, not wanting to be disturbed by the continuous notifications and calls. Each voicemail from Spencer tugged at your heart, his concern evident in every word he spoke. As you sat alone in the quiet of your apartment, the weight of the memories that had resurfaced bore down on you with relentless force.

*

Spencer had stopped calling you, you were unsure as to why, but you just thought he was giving you some more space. But as night fell and the world outside your window turned dark, a sense of loneliness crept in, wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional buzz of your phone as messages from Spencer and the team continued to pile up, unanswered.

But that had just become white noise at some point you heard a knock at your door, and you froze. The knock came again, more insistent this time, and a familiar voice called out softly, "It's me, Spencer. Can we talk?"

Your heart leaped into your throat at the sound of his voice, conflicting emotions swirling inside you. Part of you wanted to open the door and let him in, to seek the comfort and understanding he offered. But another part hesitated, wary of the vulnerability that came with facing the demons of your past.

After a moment of indecision, you made your way to the door and slowly turned the handle, revealing Spencer standing on the other side. His eyes searched yours with a mixture of concern and compassion, his expression open and vulnerable.

"Hey," he began softly, his voice gentle. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I didn't mean to trigger any bad memories."

"It's okay, Spencer," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "You didn't know. I overreacted, and I'm sorry for running off like that."

Spencer's eyes softened with understanding. "You have nothing to apologize for. Your reaction was completely valid given your past experiences. I should have been more mindful."

A heavy silence settled between you, the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air. Finally, Spencer broke the quietude, his voice tender. "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to face it alone."

As you looked into Spencer's eyes, seeing genuine care and concern reflected back at you, a wave of gratitude washed over you. Despite the pain and fear that still lingered within you, there was also a glimmer of hope kindled by his presence.

"I... I think I'm ready to talk about it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy but freeing as they left your lips, carried by a sense of trust in Spencer's sincerity.

Spencer nodded, his expression encouraging as he stepped further into your apartment. "Take your time. I'm here to listen whenever you're ready," he reassured you, his gaze unwavering in its support.

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[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Taking Care - Part Four - human!Alastor x human!fem!reader

MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!

Go to Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Hello! I know this chapter is quite long, but I realized that after writing it and decided not to split it into two separate chapters. Please make sure to pay close attention to the trigger warning, as the beginning is a bit intense. I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable while reading it. I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

Words: ~6300 TW: time specific views on women, domestic abuse, murder, violence, gore, masturbation

Francis's footsteps echoed through the silent forest, his breath heavy as he was desperately looking for a way out. Alastor told him one single word after he untied him: Run. And that's what he did. He ran as fast as he could, hoping that maybe he could escape. Maybe there was still a chance for him, but frustration caught up to him when he realised there was not a single clue in his mind about which way to go. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins. The scent of damp earth filled his nostrils, mingling with the coppery taste of fear on his tongue as he ran, his body numb against the biting cold. His breath caught in his throat as branches clawed at his skin, the sharp crack of twigs beneath his feet only deepening his sense of impending doom.

He stumbled, his legs weak from all the running, as he hardly hit the cold ground. He tried to get up, but his body felt weak, exhausted from all the running.

Whistles echoed in the forest, getting closer with every moment. The idea of escaping suddenly felt so dumb, the realisation painfully getting to him. Alastor knew this forest like the back of his palm - of course, he wasn't going to be worried that his victim would escape.

He cheerfully came closer, looking around like a cat toying with a mouse, pretending not to notice its futile attempts to escape.

He stopped whistling when he found Francis on the ground, crouching down to his level. He placed a hand on his shoulder with a gentle and yet...devious smile.

"My my my, look at you. You're completely out of breath. You look exhausted..."

Francis tried to find his words, but everything that came out was only panting. He couldn't even find the strength to stand back up on his own. He was completely worn out and at Alastor's mercy. "I... I can't... can't run anymore..." He managed to stammer out in between pants, his breaths coming out short and quick.

"Tired already?" Alastor’s voice dripped with mock concern, his fingers tracing Francis’s trembling shoulder like a predator savouring its prey. His smile turned sickly sweet, eyes narrowing in mock disappointment. "Such a shame," he sighed, brushing his fingers lightly over Francis’s skin. "We were just getting started... I had so many games planned for us."

Francis laid his head on the ground, tears starting rolling down his cheeks, as he sobbed, realising this was the end for him.

Alastor chuckled to himself as he noticed the tears rolling down Francis' face. Seeing him crying because of him...pleased him. With a sadistic smile, he put a hand under Francis' chin and lifted his face up, to make him look at him. "Aw...What's wrong, my dear friend? Why are you crying?"

"Please..." he managed to say. "Please, don't..."

Alastor only smiled, leaving his head to fall back on the ground. With a hard kick, he hit the man in the stomach, making him roll over on his back, screaming in pain. "Now, now... No need to make such a fuss..." Alastor's heel dug into his stomach, keeping him in place. He leaned over him, looking down with an overly calm smile.

The man's eyes fell on the big object in his arms, the moonlight making it shine. "You've noticed my pretty little friend here..." He lifted the axe up just a little, waving it from side to side, as a way to taunt him. But Francis didn't react anymore, the last bit of hope in him leaving. He just stood there, looking at the sky, trying to ignore the horrible pain that shot through his body.

Alastor's smile faded slightly, and he huffed in disappointment. "Ah, you're no fun... I expected more of a reaction out of you. I guess you've completely given up at this point."

Alastor raised the axe high, watching as the moonlight glinted off the blade, savouring the moment just before impact, the tension thick in the air. The axe bit deep into Francis’s shoulder, and the forest reverberated with a scream so raw it sent a shiver down Alastor’s spine. He paused for a moment, savouring the sound, his breath catching in the thrill of control. "Ah, there it is," he whispered to himself, almost tenderly, "A voice worth breaking."

He repeated the motion, the axe came down hard on Francis's other shoulder, and with a sickening crack, the bone shattered. The snap echoed through the trees like the snapping of a dry branch, followed by Francis's agonized scream. His body convulsed in shock, blood quickly soaking through his shirt as the jagged ends of his broken clavicle pressed against the torn muscle. Each blow sent shockwaves of pain through Francis’s body, his nerves alight with agony, but there was something worse—the suffocating realization that this was the end, that nothing would stop the next swing from severing the last thread of life clinging to his body.

Alastor's blows became erratic, but Francis's body was unable to react anymore, the shock slowly overcoming it. Slowly, his screams began to fade, the sickening sound of the axe hitting his body slowly conquering them.

Alastor raised the axe high, grinning as he swung it down with all his might toward Francis's neck. The first strike tore through skin and muscle, but it wasn't enough. Francis's head lolled to the side, blood pouring from the jagged wound, his eyes wide and glassy. Alastor, undeterred, pulled the axe out with a wet sound, and swung again. This time, bone crunched, and the head fell, rolling a few inches away from the twitching body.

The silence finally settled back over the forest, as Alastor's ragged breath echoed slightly. He took a few steps back, crouching next to a tree, trying to catch his breath. As the blood pooled around the lifeless body, Alastor’s mind began to wander, the rush of violence slowly melting into something else—something darker. His thoughts turned to you.

The adrenaline pumped through his veins, his skin burning against his clothes, a feeling of arousal slowly filling his body. He palmed his clothed, erected cock, the thought of you finding him like this, even if impossible, intoxicating him.

He wished you'd see what he's done for you, only for you. You deserved to know what kind of man he was, what he was willing to do for you. He’d let you watch, let you decide the fate of those who hurt you. He wasn’t just killing pests—he was erasing anyone who dared to dirty your world. Even if you didn’t ask for it, even if you begged him to stop, he’d continue… because he knew what was best for you.

His breath quickened, heat pooling in his body as his thoughts fixated on you. He convinced himself that you'd understand, that you'd appreciate how far he'd go for you. His hands twitched, craving the touch of something more—of you, of your approval. He leaned back, eyes half-lidded, letting the thought of you fill every corner of his mind. You’d see him for who he really was—the one who protected you, the one who cared for you enough to stain his hands with blood. The idea of you watching him, knowing his devotion, made his pulse race.

A low sound rumbled from his chest as your face flashed through his mind. His breathing grew heavier, the intensity of his fixation on you overwhelming him. His desire wasn’t just physical—it was something more profound, a twisted need for you to see him, to understand why he did this. The violent act itself was for you, and that thought alone pushed him over the edge, his body trembling with dark satisfaction.

This wasn’t just about the kill—it was about you, about proving his devotion in ways no one else could. Bloodied hands meant he was worthy, a protector who'd stain his soul so yours could remain pure. You had to see him, understand him. Only then would you realize how deeply he cared.

A few more pumps, and he finished. His hand slick with cum, a loud moan escaped him, the pleasure crashing through his body. His mind cleared, the intoxicating rush now replaced with a cold, creeping unease. He took deep, ragged breaths, staring at the sticky mess on his hand. For a moment, he allowed himself to linger in the afterglow, the dark warmth of victory washing over him. But the pleasure didn’t last, couldn’t last. It curdled in his chest, the weight of what he’d done sinking in.

Shame gnawed at him, creeping in slowly like a cold fog, wrapping tighter with each breath. At first, he tried to push it away, tried to bask in the satisfaction, but it lingered, curling around his gut, pressing deeper. He had never felt this kind of arousal after a kill before—it felt foreign, wrong in a way that unsettled him. His fist clenched reflexively, trying to dismiss it as adrenaline, a momentary lapse, but there was a darker whisper at the back of his mind. A whisper that told him this feeling wasn’t just a fluke. Maybe, just maybe, this was who he truly was.

At first, the satisfaction drowned out the guilt, a dark warmth spreading through him. But as the adrenaline ebbed, something colder took its place, gnawing at him. This...this wasn’t just about them. It was about you. The thought curdled in his stomach, the lingering pleasure twisting into something he wasn’t ready to face.

"Damn it..." he muttered quietly, wiping the cum on his bloodstained trousers. For a moment, he stood still, his breath uneven, his mind clouded with the lingering thought of you. The fantasy of you accepting this part of him, even enjoying it, clung to his mind like a shadow, but deep down, he knew better. You’d never understand why he did this, why he needed to do this—for you. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he resigned himself to waiting. He wouldn’t force you, not yet. You could play your part however you wanted, but in the end, it was always going to be him deciding how this game would finish. You might not know it yet, but he would make sure you saw—one way or another.

You looked at your own reflection in the mirror, your eyes scanning your face for every sign that the bruise was still visible. You moved your head from side to side, comparing each cheek just to see if one was more swollen than the other.

It wasn’t the first time you had done this, and a part of you wasn’t sure if it would be the last. You had learned how to hide your scars—painful, vivid reminders of a past you desperately wanted to escape. As you turned your head, you could almost feel the sting of past hands and the echo of past words. Would Alastor’s touch always remain gentle? Or would the softness of his hand one day become something else?

Even if it wasn’t him, it would be someone else—this was your fate. You were destined to serve and nurture him, no matter the pain you might endure.

You looked at your reflection—you were pretty. Especially now that you looked like someone else. You didn’t resemble the waitress who had narrowly escaped assault the night before or the woman who had been abused throughout her childhood. Tonight, you looked like someone who could attend a fancy party without a care in the world.

And if you were honest, you didn't quite dislike it at least for a night.

You checked the clock: 19:35. You've been ready for twenty minutes already. There was not a single thing you could've checked anymore, but where was he?

He wasn't too late, but you expected him to be earlier here. That's why you got ready so fast. But you would've spent a few more minutes inside, just so you wouldn't seem too eager to see him.

But he wasn't here. The anxiety crept on you when you thought that maybe he just lied, to make a fool out of you. Or maybe he was sick, and since he doesn't have your phone number, he couldn't announce you.

You looked at your reflection once again. Would he like you? Maybe it was too much makeup. Maybe you should've done something more discreet. Or maybe it wasn't enough. No, no, less is better. Your products weren't that expensive anyway so putting too much might make you look like a cheap woman.

Your hand ran over the pearls on your neck, as your eyes fell on the other pair you had to choose between. You thought for a moment if you should change them. The simple, white ones were good and classy. But the green ones were more vibrant. No, keep these ones. Classy is better.

He's not coming.

The room suddenly felt warmer as you thought about it. The dress suddenly felt itchy and the shoes were uncomfortable. Maybe you should change them, but you had to try more pairs on to decide... No, it's too late for that.

19:40.

The black gloves on your hands were long, simple, above your elbow. You've seen many actresses wearing them and you really liked it. But... did they make your hands look weird? You looked at your hands. They kind of do, you thought.

19:42.

Maybe you should take them off... But what if everyone wears them? No, you'll take them off there if that's the case. But you should take some rings with you then... To wear them on your bare hands. But maybe...

A knock.

Your heart stopped. You quickly got up, looking around yourself, making sure you didn't forget anything.

Another one.

You ran to the door, glancing into your purse to make sure you had your lipstick.

Another knock.

You open the door. When Alastor finally appeared, his smile felt like a beacon in your swirling sea of anxiety. You couldn't help but smile back, your mind going blank for just a moment. He looked so marvellous in this black suit, a crimson shirt underneath the coat.

As Alastor’s eyes lingered on you, a wave of conflicting emotions surged through you. Could this really be a new beginning? Or was this just another façade, hiding the same pain you had always known?

"You look absolutely ravishing, my dear~" he finally spoke, his smooth voice and charming Southern accent making every word even more pleasant. The warmth of his compliment was a stark contrast to the chill of your past, leaving you to grapple with the uncertainty of whether this moment was a fleeting illusion or a step toward something real. He leaned down as he always does, taking your hand into his, and placing a small kiss on your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chuckled. "Oh, you’re too kind!"

"Forgive me for being late, my dear. That little ol' car refused to start."

"It's alright," you said locking the door behind you. He took your hand and looped it around his arm, holding you close to his side. As he walked, his eyes occasionally glanced at you, still admiring the way you looked. He chuckled to himself quietly, unable to tear his eyes away.

"You really do look amazing," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "Those pearls, that black dress... and those shoes-" He let out another chuckle, his eyes falling on your shoes. "I have quite a weakness for a woman in nice shoes."

Your cheeks burnt as you tried to content your smile at his words. "You're flattering me... I'm sure every woman there would outshine me in no second."

He huffed in amusement, glancing down at you. "Oh, you are far too humble," he teased, "but I must say, I’m quite happy that you’re the one I’ll have on my arm all night." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "And for the record, I truly doubt any woman there could outshine you, my dear. I’m willing to bet everything on it."

You only smiled at his words as he opened the car door for you. As you stepped into the car, Alastor's eyes followed you, admiring the way you moved, the way the light from the streetlamps hit your face, making your skin glow. He chuckled quietly to himself, before closing the door and making his way around to the driver's side, climbing into the car himself.

As he began to drive, he stole a glance at you, his smile widening slightly. "Feeling nervous, my dear?" he asked.

"A little... I’ve never been to a party like this before," you admitted.

He chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. "Ah, I see. Well, I can assure you, my dear, this party will be far more interesting than your average ones." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "But don't you worry? I'll be by your side the whole time, you won't have a thing to worry about. I promise."

You smiled at his words, your anxiety wearing off just slightly. You took the pocket mirror from your purse, checking again if the bruise is not visible.

"I must say, you’re quite the makeup artist," he chuckled. "You could probably give those beauty counter girls a run for their money." His voice pulled you from your trance.

"Yes, I... I was inspired by Greta Garbo... I really do appreciate her makeup style."

Alastor turned to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, Greta Garbo. Classy choice, my dear. She does have that elegant and timeless style." He chuckled and turned back to the road. "But that's not what I meant, darling."

You looked out the window for a moment, thinking of what to say. "It takes time to master hiding bruises... but once you learn, it’s quite a useful trick, isn’t it?" you said, a small smile on your lips as you turned to face him.

He clenched his jaw, his grip on the wheel tightening slightly, the knuckles of his hands turning white. "Yes, I suppose it does..." he said, his voice low. "Although I must say, I'm not particularly fond of the reason for learning those tricks."

"Well... It's always good for a woman to have some tricks in the sleeve... for a reason or not."

Alastor huffed, his eyes darting to you for a moment before returning to the road. "Perhaps you’re right... but I still don’t like it. I don’t like the idea of a woman having to conceal her pain like that." He paused, his grip on the wheel tightening once more. "It bothers me, my dear. More than you can imagine."

Your eyes never left him. You rarely heard men talk like this and something told you it wasn't just an act - not just a game to try and earn your trust.

"There it is," you heard him say, his smile returning. He pulled the car to the side, his eyes returning to you as you scanned the somewhat concealed building, muffled jazz music drifting from inside. You could see some people at the entrance, talking and drinking, their exquisite attire making you feel a bit self-conscious.

"Don’t worry, my dear," he said softly, making you turn your attention to him. "You won’t have to worry about a thing inside."

You nodded and waited as Alastor got out of the car and walked over to your side. He opened the door for you, offering a hand to help you out. He chuckled as you stepped out, his eyes taking in the full view of your dress and the way it hugged your figure. "You really do look beautiful, my dear..." he murmured, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

You made your way inside, as Alastor walked by your side, his hand hovering gently on the small of your back as he guided you to the entrance. He spoke to the bouncer, a word or two exchanged between them, before the bouncer nodded and moved out of the way, allowing you both to step inside.

As you walked in, Alastor leaned down slightly, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. "Just stick with me, my dear. I'll take care of everything."

As you step inside, the room greets you with a haze of cigarette smoke and the rich, brassy pulse of jazz. The low murmur of laughter and clinking glasses fills the air, blending with the lively swing of a trumpet from the corner stage. Dim lighting casts shadows across the faces of well-dressed men and women, their pearls gleaming in the smoky glow, flappers in silk dresses twirling on the dance floor. The scent of cheap whiskey and perfume merges into the heady atmosphere. You feel the electricity in the air—a sense of freedom, rebellion, and secrecy as if you’ve entered a hidden world.

"It's a speakeasy, right?" you asked as Alastor leaned in to hear you more clearly.

"Yes, my dear," he said, his lips brushing gently against your ear. "One of the more elegant ones, if I do say so myself."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you stepped into the speakeasy for the first time, despite the knowledge of its illicit nature. The thrill of the forbidden, coupled with the allure of the hidden world before you, made your heart race with both anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

As you and Alastor made your way through the speakeasy, his eyes scanned the crowded hall, taking in the sights and sounds. It wasn’t long before something caught his attention—a lively figure in the middle of the room, surrounded by a small group of admirers. Alastor recognized her instantly: Mimzy.

Alastor’s grip on your back tightened as he observed Mimzy. Dressed in a dazzling silver dress with intricately curled blonde hair, her laughter echoed through the room. A group of men hung on her every word.

Alastor leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You see that woman over there?" he murmured, his eyes never leaving Mimzy. You looked in the crowd, as your face lit up at the sight.

"Is that... really Mimzy?"

Alastor nodded."Indeed it is, my dear," he confirmed, his voice low. "She's quite the social butterfly, isn't she?"

"Can I... Can I meet her?" you asked, like an excited child.

"Of course, my dear," he said, his hand gently guiding you towards where Mimzy was standing. "But I must warn you, Mimzy can be a bit... much."

Your smile grew wider as you approached. "Oh, Alastor... I've always wanted to meet her!"

He led you towards the group of people around Mimzy. The woman's sharp eyes caught sight of you both, a smile immediately lighting up on her face.

"Well, well, well!" Mimzy said, her eyes darting between you and Alastor. "Alastor, fancy seeing you here!"

Alastor chuckled, his charismatic smile never faltering. “Mimzy, it’s been quite a while.” The group around her dispersed quickly, the men obviously intimidated by Alastor's presence, but Mimzy stayed put, her eyes locked on yours.

“And who is this lovely lady you have with you~?” She questioned, tilting her head.

Alastor chuckled, his hand still gently resting on your back. "This lovely lady is my companion for the evening," he said, his smile never once wavering. Mimzy's eyes darted to you, taking in your appearance. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she looked you up and down. She stepped a little closer, a sly smirk on her face. “You know, Alastor, you never told me you had a lady.” She chuckled, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her eyes flickering between the two of you.

Your cheeks started to burn at her remark, the way she was acting as if you weren't even there made you feel a little insignificant. Alastor could sense where Mimzy was going with this, and he wasn't particularly thrilled about it. He tightened his grip on your back ever so slightly. "That's because it hadn't come up in conversation," he said, his voice still polite but cool.

Mimzy laughed, her eyes still on you. “Oh, Alastor, you’re such a gentleman. Not one to kiss and tell, are you?” She stepped even closer, almost pressing up against you. “And what’s your name sweetheart? You seem far too pretty to be with someone like Alastor.”

You smiled politely at her. "My name is (Y/n). It's quite a pleasure to finally meet you! I've always been a fan."

Alastor's eyes flicked between you and Mimzy, his smile still in place but his patience was starting to wear thin. Mimzy let out an exaggerated gasp, her hand coming up to her chest, a fake look of shock on her face. "A fan, sweetie? Well, I'm flattered, really, I am. But how on earth did you end up with Alastor of all people?"

You were taken aback by her question, looking up at Alastor as if asking for some help, and you could slightly see his eye twitching as he eyes the woman.

"Um... We..." you started, not sure if you should tell how you two actually met. But before you could continue, he took a step forward, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "That's none of your concern, Mimzy," he said, his voice as polite as always, but with an undercurrent of steel.

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly as Alastor pulled you closer to him, a small frown tugged at the corner of her mouth. "My, my, Alastor, there's no need to get all defensive on me, I'm just simply trying to get to know your companion." She looked you up and down once more, her eyes lingering on Alastor's arm that was wrapped around you. "The two of you make an... interesting couple."

You looked away as you could feel the mockery in her voice. Alastor's smile faltered for a moment, his grip on you tightening imperceptibly. He knew Mimzy's intentions all too well. She was trying to get a rise out of him, and he was not going to give her the satisfaction. "We make a perfect couple," he said, his voice smooth but with an underlying menace. "And our business is no concern of yours, Mimzy.”

He leaned towards you. "Now, my dear, why don't we go order something?"

Alastor gently steered you away from Mimzy, who stood there with a mix of surprise and irritation on her face. He led you away towards the bar, ordering a drink for himself and a non-alcoholic cocktail for you. As he waited, his arm still around your waist, he turned to you.

"I apologize for Mimzy," he said, his voice low. You smiled softly, trying to stop thinking about it.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer her question about how we met... I didn't want to embarrass you," you said slightly, looking in the crowd.

Alastor chuckled softly, his arm giving you a gentle squeeze. "No need for apologies, my dear," he said, his voice low and amused. "I appreciate your consideration, but nothing is embarrassing about how we met. Mimzy just can't help but meddle in things that don’t concern her.”

You smiled at him as the bartender brought the drinks. "I'll be back in a moment, dear. Some associates are waiting for me," he said as he rubbed your back, walking towards a small group of men.

You turned your attention to Mimzy as she approached you, she stood beside you, leaning against the bar. "So," she said, her voice falsely cheerful. "I have to ask, sweetie. How'd you and Alastor meet?"

You smiled for a moment, thinking of an answer. Lying wasn't really an option as you would probably be easily caught with that, so you figured the truth, embarrassing for Alastor or not, would be the best. "We met at a diner..." you said bluntly, hoping that would satisfy her.

Mimzy's eyebrows raised in surprise, obviously not expecting such a mundane answer. "A diner? How... mundane. You're telling me you're dating Alastor - the most notorious and desired bachelor in the town - because you met him at a diner?"

You cleared your throat, looking at the coloured liquid in your glass. "We're not... dating."

Mimzy's eyebrows shot up in surprise once more, her interest piqued. "Wait, wait, wait," she said, stepping closer to you. "You're not dating? Don't tell me you hooked up with him or something?" She raised an eyebrow, silently judging you.

You frowned your eyebrows at her. "What? No..." you protested. "I..."

Mimzy smirked, a wicked gleam in her eye. "So, you’re just another notch on his belt? How charming." She chuckled, taking a sip from her drink. "Do you know how many girls have come and gone, thinking Alastor would fall in love with them? Oh, sweetie, the list is endless."

You looked away, your eyes kind of watery at her words.

Mimzy smirked as she saw your sudden change in expression. "Oh, don't tell me you thought differently? Alastor's a notorious ladies' man. He'll get what he wants from you, and then toss you aside like everyone else." She chuckled, taking another sip from her drink. .long list of conquests, sweetie."

"Mimzy?" Alastor's voice echoed from behind you, making her eyes widen in surprise.

"Alastor! I was just having a little chat with your... friend here."

"Quite the chat, I presume?" he asked, feigning nonchalance, but you could see the anger seeping through his calm expression.

"Well... I think I should go... It was quite the chat, dearie!" she said, quickly disappearing in the crowd, as your attention returned to the drink in front of you.

Alastor watched as Mimzy scurried off, a scoff leaving his lips. He hated the way she acted. His gaze returned to you, a frown on his face as he saw the downcast look on yours. He placed his hand on your back, gently rubbing a small circle between your shoulder blades. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving the glass, not daring to look at him as your eyes threatened to spill a few tears.

He moved closer to you, his hand still rubbing your back, his other hand coming to gently rest on your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. "Hey... look at me," he murmured, his voice soft and gentle, his expression filled with concern. "How about we go somewhere else?" he suggested and you nodded. The last thing you wanted was to break down here in front of so many people.

He gave a firm nod, and his hand moved to the small of your back, gently guiding you towards the exit. He led you out into the cool night air, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close.

As you walked away from the bustling speakeasy, he led you to the car, helping you get inside. He slid into the driver's seat, starting the car. He glanced at you, noticing your downcast expression. He reached over, gently grabbing your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

Hey," he said softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "You know, you can talk to me, right? Whatever Mimzy said..."

"She said nothing... We just chatted for a bit..." you said, your eyes still on the window. He sighed and started driving, silence falling over you.

"Mimzy... can be a handful sometimes," he finally spoke."Don't listen to her words, my dear. She doesn't know the first thing about our relationship." You slightly looked at him for a moment, the "our relationship" feeling so wrong right now, but you stayed quiet.

You notice he takes a forest road, your heartbeat increasing slightly. "Where... where are we going?"

He glanced at you for a moment, noticing the slight change in your expression. He could sense your anxiety. "Somewhere more quiet," he answered, his voice calm and gentle. "A place where we can talk... without interruptions." The car slowly continued down the forest road, the only sound was the soft hum of the engine and the crunch of the gravel beneath the wheels.

You took one of your gloves off, playing with it as your mind raced. For a moment, the worst scenarios flooded your brain and the idea that there was nothing you could do was sending shivers down your spine.

The car came to a stop in what looked like a bayou. It was quite secluded and away from any passersby.

"We're here," he said, his voice soft, as he turned to look at you. You looked around, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. The place was beautiful, with fireflies dancing in the moonlight as it filtered through the dense foliage. The gentle sound of water lapping against the banks added to the serene, almost magical ambience of the setting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" His hand gently squeezed yours. "Come on." He opened the door and exited the car, walking around to your side and opening the door for you.

You cautiously got out, the chill air biting at your exposed sleeves. You took a few steps, and your eyes locked on a bush. You got a bit closer, only to be met with the sight of a few deers, peacefully grazing.

"Looks like we've got some company," he said quietly, watching as you got closer to the deer, snapping you out of your trance. He placed his coat around your shoulders, the warmth engulfing your body.

"What is this place?" you asked, turning to face him.

"This place," he said, his voice soft and tranquil. "Is a special place. A place where I come to... think, to be alone." He paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours. "I thought you might like it. It's quiet, calming, and... away from prying eyes."

You stepped back a bit. "Alastor... you got the wrong idea..." you whispered, looking at the ground.

He tensed slightly as you stepped back, a frown forming on his face. His smile faltered for a moment, surprised by your words. "What do you mean, my dear?" he asked, his voice slightly shaky. He stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what was going through your mind.

You sighed, trying to find your words. "Mimzy told me about... the choice of women you have," you said. "It's really not my interest to be here... just for a few nights."

His frown deepened as you mentioned Mimzy's words. He knew exactly what she might have told you and it angered him. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Is that what you think this is about?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and irritation. "You think you’re just another notch on my list?"

"If I'm being honest..." you said, freeing yourself from your grasp and making your way to the car, leaning against it. "I've only known you for a week... We haven't even talked outside of the diner. You can't blame for getting the wrong impression."

He took a step closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're right," he said, his voice slightly cold. "We haven't known each other for long. And yes, maybe you misunderstood my intentions." He paused for a moment, his eyes studying you intensely. "But is that really all you think I see you as? Just another one of my conquests?"

You looked down, a tear falling down your cheek. "What else could there be...?" you whispered.

"You honestly believe I brought you here just to use you and toss you aside?" he asked, his voice laced with indignation. "You think I'm that shallow, that callous?"

"I don't know, Alastor!" you snapped as you broke down. "Every damn man I met wanted nothing more from me! Should I even expect anything more?" your eyes opened wide as you realised you shouldn't have raised your tone. You quickly looked away, preparing yourself for the worst. But no pain came your way. No harsh words.

He took another step towards you, his hand gently caressing your face. "I'm not those... pathetic excuses for men, you've dealt with before, my dear."

You sighed. "I was supposed to marry someone... someone my father wanted, but I didn't..." you said. "He was rich, smart... any woman's dream... And I actually tried to get used to the idea... He nearly put me in a coma because I refused to be with him while he was drunk." A soft sob escaped your lips. "My parents disowned me... Called me a failure because I refused to be a punchbag like I was my entire life..."

You rested your head against his chest, Alastor's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. He felt your tears dampen his shirt, but he didn't care. Your words, the memories of your past abuse, hit him hard. He remembered the fear his mother felt, the pain she endured, just like you had. It made his heart ache and his anger flare.

"A woman's job is to obey..." you whispered. "That's what my father told me while I was in the hospital... Luckily, the bastard died before the wedding..."

He cupped your face with one hand, forcing you to look up at him. "You don't have to endure any more pain, my dear." His thumb gently brushed away a tear from your cheek. "Not anymore." Alastor’s gaze was intense, sending shivers down your spine. “I will take care of you, my dear. Like no one ever has before.”

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @starryhiraeth @lafy-taffy @harmfulb1tch @martinys-world @n0tmentallystable @xalygatorx @venusdandy @l3rittany @eris-norwega @maulsgf

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Future Plans

Pairing: Dark Steve Rogers x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Steve has a desire to have a family and you’re no one to stop him. 

WARNINGS: Non-con; Implied Kidnapping; Forced Pregnancy. 

AN: First time writing non-con, so let me know how this is. This is a small gift for reaching 900 followers, thank you guys! Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

“No! Stop it!” you cry out but to no avail. Steve keeps fucking you against the matress with rough thrusts, his pelvis hitting your own in a painful way that makes you squeal.

You’re dry as a desert and it only makes your pain worse, his massive cock drilling your weak pussy. His hands hold down your wrists, his handsome face contorted with wicked pleasure as his sweat drips down to your face. 

The bed squeaks with every movement, continuously hitting the wall behind it. The tears keep wetting your face as you’re unable to control yourself. You hate him so much, you just want him to leave you alone. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m getting so close.” he groans, eyes rolling with satisfaction. Steve tries to kiss you, but you turn your head so his lips kiss your skin instead, sucking and spreading his disgusting saliva all over you. 

“I’m gonna give you a kid, how about that?” he grunts, moving a hand to grab your face, forcing you to stare at him. Horror fills every inch of your body, the little hope you had for yourself starting to disappear.

“No, no…” you regain energy as you strongly try to push Steve away from you. A child is the least thing you need right now.

He only chuckles, followed by a moan and he thrusts into you harder, eyes glinting with intense emotion. Lust, madness.

“You’re gonna be so heavy with my kid that you won’t be able to stand properly, much less run away. I’m gonna fuck a baby into you. Fuck, yes.” Steve mutters, his thrusts getting more erratic and violent as he keeps talking. 

“I’ll always keep you pregnant, heavy and full of my babies. That’s going to be so nice, isn’t it?” tears keep running down your face and you’re not sure if it’s because of his aggressive way of fucking you or because of deranged his plans. 

He fucks you relenlessly until he suddenly halts, a loud moan escaping his lips as the buries his face on your face. Steve crashes down on top of you, his weight making it harder for you to breathe but he doesn’t seem to notice you trying to get away from him.

Instead, he kisses your neck and takes a deep breath, pushing his cock until you can’t take more of him. Some white cum drips down your pussy and down your thighs, the feeling is gross and you can’t wait to clean it all.

He seems to have read your mind because he hugs you, twisting your body so that you’re caged back into his arms, his cock still buried inside you. 

“No cleaning, babe, we gotta make sure it sticks. We should have a little one in nine months.” Steve declares, tilting his hips upwards, as he kisses the top of your sweaty head.

You close your eyes, hoping to wake up next morning and find out it’s all just a big nightmare. 

It’s not and in nine months, you find yourself holding a tiny baby as Steve fervoulsy kisses your forehead, thanking you for giving him such a beautiful bundle of joy. 

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon (Part II)

(read Part I here!)

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Ler!Vaggie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

First: MAJOR thank you for all the sweet notes and feedback on Part 1 of this fic! I was not expecting such an enthusiastic response, and it really made my week! So grateful to be part of this lovely community 💕

As promised, here is part 2... This one gets a little more intense than the last, but it's still all for fun (and Al can handle it ��) So excited to share it with you all!

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

Vaggie is never quite sure what she's going to find when she hears a commotion elsewhere in the hotel - especially when it's coming from the direction of Alastor's room.

But nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her girlfriend pinning the most powerful overlord in Hell to the floor, tickling him to hysterics.

"Uhhhh..... Sweetie?"

"He won't tell me where he hid it!"

Vaggie just takes it in for a second. "So you're tickling him?"

"How else am I supposed to get it outta him?!"

"That's an... unconventional method, babe."

Charlie pauses her assault to shoot her girlfriend a deadpan look over her victim (who merely remains sprawled out on the floor beneath her, using his reprieve to take in as much precious oxygen as possible).

"You think I'm stupid enough to threaten real harm on The Radio Demon?"

That remark draws a maniacal little chuckle from the crumpled heap.

"Doesn't sound very effective," Vaggie observes.

But Charlie is too busy growling taunts at her victim again, tazing him in the sides. "Sorry, did I say something funny, giggles? Huh?! Did I?"

Vaggie can't help but smile herself at how hard it is for her girlfriend to keep a straight face during her "interrogation." She pokes and prods and scribbles all over the poor man, until his distinctive cackle echoes from the ceiling. And then she sits back on her heels, practically beaming with delight as he continues to shake with residual giggles.

At one point Charlie flashes her girlfriend a goofy grin. "I really think I'm wearing him down."

"Oh yeah. Absolutely, babe." Vaggie leans back against the doorframe with a smirk. "He really looks like he hates this, doesn't he."

As Charlie goes after his ribs again, Vaggie tilts her head. "He's lost his weird radio buzz."

"Oh!" Charlie abruptly clasps her hands to her chest, eyes wide with sudden worry. "Are you okay, Al?"

"Heh - yes, yes, of course..." While he is indeed too drunk on laughter maintain his usual tinny radio filter, the tiniest hint of a wheeze still edges his voice - which surprises Alastor himself more than anyone. His evil cackle is, after all, one of his signature intimidation techniques, and it's never affected his voice before.

But the uncontrolled, helpless hysterics Charlie's had him clutched in is very different from what he's used to. For all his practice intimidating his victims with a well-timed chortle, it appears his genuine laughter is rather rusty.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Still breathless, Alastor can't help but chuckle at that too. "...Y-you are aware of what an 'interrogation' is, right?"

Charlie's look of concern drops to a mild glare.

"Alright, babe. Step aside." Vaggie curls a dangerous little grin of her own. "I'll handle this."

As he sees Vaggie striding toward him, Alastor scrambles to sit up. "Wait, wait- Vaggie, dear, can't we-" He presses backward, only to find himself cornered between the couch and the coffee table. "Er- can't we talk this over?"

Vaggie crouches down. "You wanna tell me where Angel's speaker is?"

"No."

Fingernails are crawling up both sides before he even registers movement. Poor Alastor is clutched over cackling within seconds.

Charlie may be a surprisingly effective ler, but it quickly becomes clear who taught her: Vaggie is ruthless.

"Get his tummy, that's his weak spot!" Charlie chirps, not even bothering to hide her delight any longer.

"Chahaharlie!!"

Alastor actually feels a spark of legitimate panic as Vaggie's nails find their way to his upper belly, tracing along the lower edge of his ribcage, sending his laughter silent for a moment.

"Hey, if you really want me to stop, you can just tell me what I wanna know."

"YOou cahan-" (gasp) "-PRY it from my-" (brief giggle fit) "-cold, dead-" (wheeze) "-fingers!!"

"Yeah? I'll show you cold, dead fingers..."

Alastor feels a hand slip under his shirt.

"AaaaAAAHH! No, no, Vaggie don't!"

"Oooh, this is a good spot, isn't it?"

"NO don't do that- please please please..."

"What? You don't want me to do this?" Her fingernails skitter across his bare tummy. The poor man can't remember the last time he laughed this hard at anything - which, for someone who literally hasn't dropped his smile for decades, is a pretty high bar to clear. And he's gotta admit, it's the best he's felt in weeks.

"Don't kill him," Charlie pipes up, "I still need him to help run the hotel after this."

"I'm not gonna kill him." Vaggie leans in close. "I'm just gonna keep tickling this sensitive, vulnerable, unbearably ticklish little belly, up and down, over and over, on and on..."

The surge of radio static induced by this one sentence is so intense that it leaves Alastor's own voice virtually incomprehensible for several seconds. He tries to summon a shadow creature, a tentacle, anything, but he's so disoriented the shadows dissipate before they can be directed anywhere.

And that's finally what breaks his resistance. Being rendered helpless under Charlie's fingers is one thing, but being unable to use his powers at Vaggie's mercy is considerably more unnerving.

"OKAY, OKAHAY! I'll talk! I'll talk!"

Vaggie lifts her hands off him, though they remain hovering just a few inches over his torso.

It takes a solid minute for Alastor to catch his breath. "For heaven's sake, you could've just asked me..."

Vaggie scrunches her fingers in the air a couple times, causing the radio demon to fold up like a lawn chair.

"Ack! Nonono I'm kidding!! I'm kidding!" He fights back a fit of nervous giggles.

"Ten seconds to spit it out before I go borrow Nifty's feather duster."

Alastor rolls his eyes. "Oh please. You think you can threaten me with cleaning tools? Don't be ridiculous..."

"Five seconds." Vaggie turns to Charlie. "Hey babe, have you tried his ears?"

A little squeak of microphone feedback. "13th floor hall closet, second-to-top shelf, under a dead rat."

Charlie recoils. "Ew! Al!"

"Pardon, two dead rats." As Vaggie withdraws her hands Alastor sits up, brushes himself off, and reaches for his microphone. "Second one came along as I was arranging the first, and... offered to help."

Charlie just stares at him in horror as he stands and twirls his mic with his usual classy flair, the very picture of eccentric elegance - as if he hadn't just spent the last twenty minutes being reduced to a hysterical mess on the floor.

"Is there any point in warning you not to pull something like this again?" Vaggie mutters, more to herself than the demon.

"No. But you can if it makes you feel better." Alastor grins and offers a hand to Charlie as she gets to her feet. "That was a lovely chat, my dears. Next time I need a good laugh I'll be sure to commit another petty theft."

Charlie rolls her eyes as he turns on his heel and strolls off.

"And let me know if you need help finding the batteries for that speaker," he tosses over his shoulder.

"OH you little piece of-"

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

This was such a fun fic to write! Hope you had fun reading it too.... let me know what you think!

💜 - Cozy

[baddestbittyontheblock]

february fic recs (1/2)

✦ dividers by @saradika-graphics, @gigittamic ✦

Ⳋ᧙ hi everyone!! i've read a ton of fics this month, so i hope you all enjoy my faves of february!! Ⳋ᧙ ⑅part 2⑅

I made 2 post's for february cause it was too long lol

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each incredible writer!! ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

Ⳋ᧙ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings Ⳋ᧙

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ also, if you’d like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

women's soccer

alexia putellas

❀᧓ when i break, it’s in a million pieces (1/3) by @girlgenius1111 alexia x putellas!reader

-the pressure on reader is intense, from her sister more than anyone. an injury pushes her to her breaking point. desperate not to let her sister down, reader struggles under the weight of her injury.

❀᧓ shining just for you (2/3) by ^ alexia + barça & putellas!reader

-reader only gets worse. alexia gets frustrated. a much needed conversation is attempted.

❀᧓ all i do is try, try, try (3/3) by ^ alexia putellas x putellas!reader

-alexia and reader finally talk.

❀᧓ young, drunk, and alone by ^ alexia putellas x putellas!reader | angst, fluff, brief mentions of blood and vomiting. and alcohol consumption, 6k

-reader infuriates her sister when she sneaks out and gets drunk with her friends. alexia comes to realize that maybe, this is a result of her pushing you too hard.

❀᧓ you come back from gravity by ^ alexia putellas x reder | angst, fluff

-alexia and reader have an argument. reader misunderstands, and when alexia leaves to calm down, she thinks she's going for good.

❀᧓ annoyances by @sunnyaelia alexia putellas x reader | pure fluff, reader being a little shit

-alexia forces you to come with her to a photo shoot and a meeting while you’re tired - you’re intent on making her regret it 

❀᧓ matches and hickeys by ^ alexia putellas x reader | mostly fluff and then suggestive at the end, not meant for minors!

-alexia is very proud to take you with her to a match - until one of her opponents starts flirting with you 

❀᧓ jealously and sisterhood by ^ alexia putellas x reader | angst

-alexia and you are dating and she is happy that you get along with her sister alba so well - until people start thinking you and alba are a thing. in her effort to keep you away from her sister, she drives a wedge in between you and her relationship

❀᧓ listener and talker by ^ alexia putellas x reader | grumpy x sunshine trope but a very mild version of it

-you always think that you talk too much for alexia to listen to everything - she proves otherwise 

❀᧓ listener and talker 2 by ^ alexia putellas x reader | pure fluff

-alexia continues to be cute and you try to match her actions and do some things for her

❀᧓ insecurities and drunk talks by ^ alexia putellas x reader | talks about body insecurities and then wanting to change body image, nothing heavy or detailed though and it’s about gaining muscles not losing weight! also non sexual nudity and suggestive comments, 18+ please 

-alexia tries to tease you by not initiating any physical contact anymore - she doesn’t expect that you might misunderstand it and withdraw from her as a result 

❀᧓ laps and regret by ^ alexia putellas x reader | this contains descriptions of reader almost throwing up and non sexual nudity 

-in her efforts to hide your relationship to the others on the team, alexia overdoes it during training and is way too strict on you - it has consequences 

❀᧓ delay by @awfcspencer alexia putellas x reader | mdni 18+ only, smut with basically no plot. dom!alexia, sub!reader, fingering, strap-ons, praise kink, dirty talk, choking, orgasm denial

-flight cancellation isn’t ideal, especially when you had been teasing alexia all day.

❀᧓ dancing with the devil (1/3) by @pers1st alexia putellas x singer!reader | mentions of drugs and alcohol

-meeting alexia hadn't been an accident. if anything, meeting anyone, for you, was an accident, because more often than not, people were screaming into your face, demanding pictures and autographs and spinning theories about your private life that you were pretty sure could be considered conspiracies.

❀᧓ painkillers (2/3) by ^ alexia putellas x singer!reader | alcohol & drug abuse

-if lois noticed the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, he didn't mention it. you turned the radio on from the control in the back, desperate to escape the whistling thoughts in your head.

❀᧓ afterglow (3/3) by ^ alexia putellas x singer!reader | mentions of OD

-keira was taken away first. alexia noticed it as she marched across the damp pitch, a winter coat shielding her body from the cool wind, her body glistening with sweat.

❀᧓ bittersweet by @barcaatthemoon alexia putellas x reader

-the roar of the crowd was deafening. spain had won, and while you were so proud of alexia, you couldn't bring yourself to move to congratulate her.

❀᧓ testy by @acornsquish alexia putellas x reader | smut, 18+ minors dni, AFAB reader, cunnilingus, fingering, begging, restraints, D/S undertones, orgasm control

-you're in a terrible mood, for no particular reason. you know exactly what would help, but your girlfriend's been insanely busy for weeks, and you don't want to ask for what you need and put one more thing on her plate. alexia figures it out anyways.

❀᧓ broken by @ale-wosofan alexia putellas x reader | little bit of angst (+fluff), implied adhd

-reader is struggling but she’s not sure why or how to fix it. will she finally be honest with her girlfriend about how she’s feeling?

❀᧓ reliance by @leahluvr alexia putellas x reader | angst, comfort

-your newborn son won’t go to sleep

❀᧓ spoiled rotten by @wileys-russo alexia putellas x reader | fluff

-"only me!" you called out as you stepped through the front door, immediately nearly crashing to the floor over a pair of your girlfriends sneakers she'd left laying in the way.

❀᧓ caught on camera by ^ alexia putellas x putellas!reader

-"where are you going? the field is that way hermana."

❀᧓ open your eyes by @magics-neptunes-things alexia putellas x reader

-alexia. you’ve known her since you were a little girl. you met her when the ball she was playing with ended up in your backyard and she came looking for it, half hidden behind her father.

❀᧓ between us by @alexias-putellas alexia putellas x reader x jenni hermoso

-you’d had a crush on alexia from the moment you’d laid eyes on her the day you signed your barcelona contract. she was pretty and kind. and unfortunately, taken.

aitana bonmatí

❀᧓ sleepyhead by @storiesforthemoonchild aitana bonmatí x reader

-breakfast was always loud with the team, and you loved it.

❀᧓ clingy by @alexias-putellas aitana bonmatí x reader | fluffy

-with a heaved sigh, you pushed open the apartment door, dragging your suitcase in behind you. the quiet humming you could hear stopped and was replaced by the sound of footsteps.

❀᧓ beach babe by @princejiu aitana bonmatí x reader

-the barca girls spots a beach babe and aitana is immediately in love

jessie fleming

❀᧓ you've been missed by @lovinpelova jessie fleming x reader | smut

-jessie feels a bit more lonely than usual, so she makes sure you get home earlier.

leila ouahabi

❀᧓ eyes on me by @repulsiveliquidation leila ouahabi x reader | smut

-the sun shines through the hotel room in malta. leila has her arm wrapped around your middle with a tight grip on you.

mapi leon

❀᧓ don't doubt us by @girlgenius1111 ingrid x mapi x reader | 18+ smut!

-reader gets sick. mapi and ingrid get overprotective. reader pushes herself too hard, but her girlfriends know what she needs better than she does

ingrid engen

❀᧓ ingrid blurb by @wileys-russo ingrid engen x reader

-"i didn't know you switched numbers"

❀᧓ inside everything by @retrocesosdestacion ingrid engen x reader | smut, minor disastrous, +18 writting, semi-public sex, touching, fingering, r sub, maybe a bit realistic, did not reach the limit, half sex, almost caught.

-It's shopping day, however you are very doubtful on which denim shorts you are going to acquire.

❀᧓ don't doubt us by @girlgenius1111 ingrid x mapi x reader | 18+ smut!

-reader gets sick. mapi and ingrid get overprotective. reader pushes herself too hard, but her girlfriends know what she needs better than she does

alessia russo

❀᧓ mornings with you by @mrchiipchrome alessia russo x reader | suggestive, 1.4k

-early morning rays of sun peeked in through the blinds as your girlfriend admired your features lit up by the soft glow of the rays. alessia’s blonde hair was splayed over the pillow, her finger tracing soft shapes into the skin of your arm. 

❀᧓ puzzle book by @wileys-russo alessia russo x reader

-cute little blurb about being on camp in spain with less

jenni hermoso

❀᧓ homecoming by @girlgenius1111 jenni hermoso x reader | smut! 18+

-jenni returns from a trip without you, intent on reminding you of who you belong to. you are only interested in proving to her that you've forgotten who is in charge.

❀᧓ between us by @alexias-putellas alexia putellas x reader x jenni hermoso

-you’d had a crush on alexia from the moment you’d laid eyes on her the day you signed your barcelona contract. she was pretty and kind. and unfortunately, taken.

❀᧓ caught by @barcaatthemoon jenni hermoso x reader | minors dni, 18+, smut

-you and jenni get caught breaking one the team's "no hotel sex" rule.

ona batlle

❀᧓ scratches down your back now by @alessiasfreckles one batlle x reader | smut 18+, dom!ona, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving), strap (r receiving), back scratching, dirty talk, degradation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise kink

-you just want ona to use you, and she's more than happy to do so.

men's soccer

jude bellingham

❀᧓ tainted memories by @anadiasmount jude bellingham x reader | angst? smut and fluff, minors dni, 3.6k

-breaking up wasn’t apart of the plan. so was also inviting him to your friends party, but now that he’s back after seven months, a little rekindle never hurts anyone, right?

❀᧓ not what you think by ^ jude bellingham x reader | 2.1k

-a club filled with many girls but the one he wants is standing in the dance floor, his best friends little sister. he shouldn’t be thinking the way he does, but something about seeing you doing something he never thought and imagined has his mind racing with thoughts that were forbidden…

❀᧓ a love that feels right by @judethsluvr brother’s bsf!jude bellingham x fem!reader | 18+ minors dni

-“you know you don’t have to share a tent with me—in fact i’d be happy to have one for myself, just saying.”

❀᧓ just a fan by @mufcjb jude bellingham x reader | just slight angst, appearances from Camavinga and Vini Jr

-a security guard at one of jude’s games mistakes you for a fan.

❀᧓ wag in training by ^ jude bellingham x reader | insecurities, body image issues, brief mentions of lack of eating,very angsty

-reader is insecure about her capabilities of being a wag and feeling like she doesn’t fit in, especially after seeing the others at the world cup.

❀᧓ la playa by @moviestarmartini jude bellingham x latina!reader | really short instagram aus at both the beginning and the end, situationship where they both clearly fell for each other but won't discuss it, pet names in spanish, NSFW, semi-public sex, soft dom!jude if you squint, teasing, p in v, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all), creampie, cockwarming, fluff (aka two big goofs in love), 2.0k

-situationship!jude asked to spend the summer vacations with you. he's been looking at you with something other than his hungry eyes for some time now.

❀᧓ ballroom extravaganza by @leviscolwill jude bellingham x f1 driver!reader | jude is jealous, reader drives for mclaren w lando, possible racing inconstancies (i can't drive to save my life), reader crashes (nothing too bad happens tho), gasly slander, language ??, quite angsty but happy (&fluffy) endin, 1.7k

-you always hated arguing with jude, but even more so when you're about to race monaco's streets

❀᧓ watermelon sugar by @judeswhore jude bellingham x fem!reader | 18+, minors dni, oral (f), pussy drunk jude??

-jude just can’t get enough of you

bridgerton

anthony bridgerton

❀᧓ bridgerton blues by @imthebadguyyy anthony bridgerton x reader | smut, heavy smut and excessive amount of fluff

-it's the first time after your wedding that anthony sees you sporting the signature bridgerton colour : blue, and it does things to him that he can only express in a much more....physical manner.

❀᧓ truth or dare by @ithebookhoarder anthony bridgerton x wife!reader | alcohol, mild smut, swearing, anthony losing his mind, typical bridgerton sibling shenanigans 

-married only a few months, you are very much one of the bridgerton brood - something that often drives your poor husband mad, especially when you happen to be every bit as chaotic and unruly as his siblings... also known as, you, benedict and eloise take a game of ‘truth or dare’ a bit too far. 

❀᧓ to lose yourself by @frost-queen anthony bridgerton x reader

-you and anthony have an intense moment in the library at lady danbury's ball. It leads to full on kissing till his sister daphne enters shockingly. teasingly she starts telling you to duel her just like anthony once did with simon.

call of duty

simon riley

❀᧓ drabble by @truetogaia simon riley x reader

-simon keeps his late girlfriend's things long after her passing.

❀᧓ simon fic by @lunarw0rks simon riley x gn!reader | nsfw + sfw, established relationship, smut/fluff, shower sex, hurt/comfort, 1.1k

-reader using their safe word for the first time with ghost

❀᧓ picture by @peachesofteal simon riley x fem!reader | 18+ minors dni, pregnancy, pregnant reader, blow job, praise kink, blood, violence, injury, ptsd, anxiety, trust issues. simon is bad at feelings. soap is a good friend. POV switches

-soap gives simon a picture.

❀᧓ simon blurb by @hecateslore dad!simon x mom!reader

-a working mom who comes home to a retired papa!simon

❀᧓ smut blurb by @shotmrmiller pornstar!ghost x fem!reader | 18+, smut

-pornstar!ghost who can't seem to ever keep his hands to himself whenever you're around, even when about to film.

[girlwithadragonheart]

Leave Me to the Beasts and Bears

Halsin x Female Reader

Summary: Halsin overhears you singing about your struggles as a woman in the world. Comfort ensues

Word Count: 1,274

Warnings: Paris Paloma song, mentions of rape, assault, SA, graphic flashbacks, this fic is very graphic and intense read at your discretion!!! (I love you don't trigger yourself unless you know it's okay) This is a hurt/comfort because I need it

A/N: This song has been looping in my mind for days, and it really highlights womanhood. Also this is my personal experiences all roped together if you don't like it keep scrolling.

BG3 Masterlist

You had been staying with the Grove for quite a while, and no one seemed to mind. You brought light and life to the druids with your music, and you had become a welcome addition to the lovely place. You had found a quiet overlook next to the inner sanctum and often found yourself drawn there for the peace it brought you.

Your fingers danced idly across your lute strings, humming softly to yourself and the surrounding life.

Halsin heard your melodic voice and found himself drawn to you. Tucked just behind you out of sight. Not that it mattered as your eyes fluttered closed.

Cremate me… Deliver me to safety. So that when it’s spent maybe it will be my own.

Scatter ashes… Leave no marker where you plant it. So the hordes will be disbanded as they search on a treasure map for my headstone.

The druid’s brow furrowed as he heard the softness of your voice carrying solemn words. Little did he know what exactly was on your mind.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top.

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again…

Your throat felt tight. You saw them in your mind’s eye. You felt their hands on your skin, calluses scraping against you, nails digging into your arms. Your knees hit the ground with such force they cracked, and you cried out in pain. No one came. Heavy and hard hands ripped your blouse, exposing your chest for predatory eyes.

I’ll tattoo it, just so they think it’s ruined. And if they think it’s ruined, it’s easier to save. But please hurry, if you really love me, and dispose of me unceremoniously in the waves.

You heard the water lapping at the shore as your chest tightened with that familiar panic. Every time you dreamt about it or someone touched you close enough you were brought back to it again and again for days on end. No matter how far you ran, their eyes would always follow you. Their skin was tainting yours no matter where you went. Chest to chest unwilling, but appeasing.

You remembered their fingers carding through your hair, tugging it roughly from your scalp. You remembered how they put it to their lips and breathed in your scent. 

Leave me to the trees and air, I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or buy cuttings of my priceless locks.

Leave me for two days or three, ‘til my fingertips turn green. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

Those rough hands gripped your jaw, forcing your mouth open as silent tears flew down your cheeks. Even if you screamed, no one would hear you. If they did, no one would save you. You were alone. Just the way they preferred.

The other hand traveled to their belt buckle. You heard the metal clanging in your ears as though cymbals were clashing next to your head. It was past the point of warning bells and alarms, you were in it and you wouldn’t get away before… before…

And they will come in such dismay, that they never did discover where I lay. And I will burn, my flesh and form. Screaming the words, “it will never be yours!”

I’ll take the flame over desecration, promise you’ll make all these arrangements. Don’t you dare think it’s overkill!

I wouldn’t wish the watching on anybody, so if for that reason only, swear to me you will!

Halsin watched you stand, and he heard the tears clogging your throat. He watched you scream these words out to the sea, and he felt his own throat close up. Memories of the Underdark and the drow couple started to surface in his mind. Maybe it was the words or the emotions, but what he thought of fondly started to seem less than. He heard you sniffle, and suddenly he felt those restraints on his wrists and ankles again. He felt them touching him, and his mind wanted to trick him into enjoying it. It wanted to appease his captors and draw pleasure where he could, but this… 

He was watching you break, and for the first time it was like looking in the mirror. For the first time he could see someone else breaking and recognize himself in them. 

And you choked up, feeling suffocated by the memory. You’ll never forget what it felt like. What it tasted like. The weight, the heat, the flavor, the intrusion was forever branded on your mind, body, and soul. It would always be there.

Leave me to the beasts and bears. I’d rather that the feast was theirs. They can’t reserve neighboring plots, or request to be buried on top. 

Leave me for a day or two, to make sure that I turn blue. For the first time since I drew breath, I’m undesirable again.

It was barely a melody at this point. More a choked whisper as you fell to your knees, lute laying still on the ground.

You felt the phantom soreness of every event, every time your body was used for someone else's desires. You heard every word of pleasure and longing that had ever passed to your ears. You felt their hands as they groped and poked and prodded even when you said no. Thousands upon thousands of strangers touching you. Friends touching you. Family touching you, and you couldn’t make them stop. 

But it’s fine because they love you. No! No more. This is not alright, I’m not alright. I’m not alright, I’m not, but no one understands, and no one will even listen, and I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe!

Strong arms wrap around you, trying to hold you together, but you’re falling apart freely with no air resistance, and the only thing stopping you is the embrace of warmth and strength and the smell of the earth. You didn’t realize you were screaming. You only thought you were crying, but you didn’t realize how much. 

Not until Halsin collapsed next to you and pulled you into his embrace. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I know.”

You felt his salty tears against your neck as you turned into him, arms wrapping around his neck. Your hands clawed at him desperately, trying to breathe in his safety and comfort all the while he tried to take yours. Kindred spirits, twin flames, two souls having walked the same path, and all you could do was hold onto each other for the ride and pray that you would make it to the other side.

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“As am I.” His arms encompass you completely, holding you together. His large hands cover your back almost entirely, as though he’s attempting to shield you from your past with his large frame. You allow yourself this brief respite. After everything you’ve endured, you haven’t recovered, and you aren’t sure that you ever will.

It’s of small comfort to you that someone of Halsin’s size and stature knows the pain you’ve endured and has experienced it for himself. But you don’t know those circumstances. Perhaps he is only so large and muscular to protect what he couldn’t in the past. Perhaps he hopes to protect you in the same way.

Either way you are glad he is here.

“You are safe here,” He told you. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

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

A/N: Are you guys okay after that? I'm not. Whew.

Have a good night <3

Tag List: @leiotyp

As always let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Requests are open!

[voxmortuus]

Hi! Can I please make a request?

If yes: thank you!

Could you write Hannibal giving his male!reader a blowjob?

Thank you and I hope you have a good day!

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Hannibal x M!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Hannibal ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ See above ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 480 ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ PWP | Male Oral | Male Finish | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this finds you well. Pretty basic request. Thank you for an easy porn without plot request was easy to bust out. Sorry it took so long had family over yesterday. Hope you enjoy ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Hannibal Masterlist *̥˚✧

Never sloppy, this man was a professional even in intimate moments. However, the only reason why he was on his knees in front of you and not the other way around was because he lost a bet. He wasn't a sports fan, and you knew that you took advantage of the situation, and now you were being rewarded. It wasn't every day he lost a bet either, but, that being said, you were immensely enjoying what you felt was a well-deserved reward.

As the hot shower water adds to the pleasure, you look down, watching as his lips form perfectly around you, savoring the flesh, making sure you are well tended to. The stroke of his hand, the bob of his head, the attention to the little details. How you could feel the tension and tautness of the lips to add that perfect amount of pressure around, tight but not too tight.

You hang your head back as you enjoy this moment. The subtle stroke of his hand as his mouth glides along your slick stiffened flesh. Of course, he knew what he was doing, and you were bearing witness to it now.

Looking back down you watch as his lips move along the side of your cock, the length from base to tip, his tongue curled around the underside of your shaft, the way he moved along the side and wrapped around back to the tip only to press your head between his lips again and press you to the back of his throat as he picks up the pace.

You hang your head back and let out a long draw out moan into the bathroom as it echoes in the shower bouncing off those glass walls. Your body tenses with this intense wave of heat. Feeling it wash over you it's like prickles to your flesh. You let out another moan. Your eyes close as you reach down and grip the back of his head as your hips buckle in a rhythmic motion.

The faster he moves the faster your hips move in a perfect tandem motion. The perfect about of give and take. With a faster bob comes a tighter pressure, comes a quicker build of your own pressure but you're unable to hold back any longer. Before you could even get a word in edgewise you're letting out a loud moan of pure satisfaction. Your voice echoes in his ears.

As your cock twitches with your finish, like the professional this man is, Hannibal takes the load, proceeds to stand up with your cock in hand, pulls you closer, and looks down at you as he stands a fair bit taller than you.

"Next time, you're the one on your knees…" He stated with a small smirk.

"Whatever you say." You state with a soft chuckle kind of out of breath and in a daydream-like state.

[numinousher]

CHANTAJE! (xviii)

PAIRING: ceo!bts x actress(female)!reader

SUMMARY: being under the watchful eye of the media and your fans, your managers are in desperate need of regaining back your popularity after other influencers who hate you cause mayhem to your life. what best way to do so by having you pretend to be in a relationship with the popular 7 who are known to be intensely wealthy and stoic? will you be able to regain their trust or will they go with their promise of damaging your reputation even more?

WARNING(S) FOR LATER: gore/blood/murder, harassment/bullying, mental health talks (nothing badly triggering), child endangerment (mc was a child actor, again nothing badly triggering. if there is, there will be a warning)

NOTE: if you guys read this, im not late, you are 😒

TAGLIST (CLOSED): @parapiop7 @an-ever-angry-bi @softforyoongles @thenaverse @chansatlan @juju-227592 @skyys-universe @carolinexkpop @reallysparklychaos @namjooncrabs @savagemickey03 @drunkzseok @svnbangtansworld @2ne1unni

“Why are you crying?”

Were the first words Namjoon asked as soon as he, Jimin, and Taehyung came to find you sitting on your couch with tears streaming down your face. Little gasps were escaping your lips and your eyes were casted on something propped on the arm of your couch.

You raised a finger up as an answer.

“Y/n.”

You ignored them and continued to look at what you were looking at.

“Y/n.”

A little sob escaped you this time and Taehyung strides forward to see what was causing your tears. He pinched the bridge of his nose once he came to find a book laid down, a sigh escaping his own lips.

“Y/n, are you crying over a book?”

“You better not be judging me.” you glared at him, though Taehyung couldn’t take you serious since your eyes were teary and swollen. Your nose was starting to get stuffy, too, so you sniffled in hopes it would stop running. You continued to read.

“Why are you crying before your meeting with your parents, idiot?” Jimin sighed, passing you the tissues on your table. You took them from him and made sure you were finished with the last sentence of the book before closing it.

“I needed to read this because I need to remember I could’ve had it worse,” you mumbled, standing up to stretch. You twisted your body side to side to get rid of the ache from sitting down. “I cry when I get mad so I needed to get those tears out before my parents words get to me.”

“You read that book because you needed to remind yourself you could’ve had it worse?” Namjoon asked in a low voice, almost in disbelief. You nodded and quickly put your things away. “You’re crazy. Don’t compare yourself life to fictional things. This is real life and as much as we all have fucked up childhoods, yours is valid, too.”

You sniffed one last time, your gaze stuck on the wall beside his head to look at the picture of you and your sister. “You’re right. I needed that.” You dabbed your eyes and inhaled and exhaled. “Okay, I think I’m good. I really needed that cry.”

Jimin scoffed and shook his head. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You innocently smiled, sticking out your hand. “Hold it?”

Before he was about to respond, your maid, Min-seo, came with her head bowed down. “Your parents are here, ma’am.”

“Thanks, lead them here please, Min-seo,” you softly spoke to the poor woman, turning around to breath in and out. You ignored the stares and the anxiety building up in the pit of your stomach. “If I talk back, don’t think I’m disrespectful.”

Taehyung’s hand rested on the middle of your back, thumb rubbing against the material of your shirt. Much to your surprise, though, his touch soothed you.

“Why are they here?”

Your eyes shut closed out of irritation at hearing your dad’s annoyed yet stern voice.

“Because I’m dating them,” you spewed out between gritted teeth, a fake smile spreading on your lips as you came to see your parents and your siblings. You forgot you had a brother for a sec, but you remembered the money you gave to your parents went to him. “Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, these are my parents and my siblings. Parents, siblings, these are my boyfriends.”

“Hmm.” Your mom looked at the boys and looked away. “What are these allegations?” You rolled your eyes and turned away to sit down. “Do not turn your back to me, Y/n.”

“I’m not turning my back on you to be rude,” you said, feeling Taehyung sit next to you while the other two stood behind you, watching your family with a stern gaze.

Namjoon, though, kept a close eye on your sister.

“We have told you work comes before everything and that included having friends,” your mom continued to scold you, slapping your hand away from the cotton candy you had been eating. “And this is not food. What is this? Throw it away.”

“Why are you here?” You asked, ignoring her words and eating the sweetness she despised. “There must be a reason as to why my whole entire family had to come to my house instead of calling or texting.”

“Your brother wants money for school,” your dad simply answered, back straightening a bit to look more intimidating. Because Namjoon and Taehyung worked out more than Jimin did, your dad couldn’t help but eye the way their blazers looked on their arms. Although Jimin wasn’t as buff, his mere presence was enough to intimidate anyone in the room, including your younger brother.

“Ah, that’s what it’s for,” you scoffed out, shaking your head. You glanced at your brother. “Funny how as his parents, you can’t financially provide for him. Thanks to me, he can have everything he wants.”

“Y/n.”

“No,” you remembered Jae’s words resonating with you. It was time to put your foot down. But you couldn’t help but admit you felt a bit embarrassed since the guys were there, watching you. “I am not going to just throw money I earned because of my hard work. I worked. Not you. It’s my money.”

“But we helped you get to where you were,” your mom argued, hoping to diminish any confidence you had standing up to her and your father. “Without us, you wouldn’t be living in a house as big as this, all while being named the biggest actress and millionaire in South Korea. We put you in this path.”

“And I thank you for that,” you said with a frown, not straying away your eye-contact. “But it doesn’t mean that you don’t see me as a big dollar sign because you do. That’s all I am to you and it has been like that since I was a child.”

“Your aunt made you like this,” your father fought back, his words laced with such hate for the woman who technically raised you. “After she died, you have been nothing but a disappointment.”

“Since I’m such a disappointment,” you started, feeling Taehyung’s hand on your thigh to provide some type of support, “then you don’t need the money I get from the movies and shows I’ve been in that disappoint you.”

Your mother scoffed. “Despicable!” She stood up and pointed a finger at you. “You have been nothing but a spoiled brat. You’re never appreciative. Never, and you’re here because of us.” She glanced at the 3 men surrounding you. “Nothing but a disappointment.”

“You know your way out,” you said in a monotonous voice, your fingers slightly shaking with nerves at even the thought of kicking your parents out. You’re really doing something you know you’re going to feel guilty for as soon as they leave. “I will support my siblings, but you two are not getting a cent.”

“Whatever.”

Your parents turned on their heels and left, heading towards the front door. Your siblings, feeling bad for you, immediately walked to you.

You stood up and hugged them both simultaneously, bringing them closer to kiss their cheeks.

“Stop growing up, you two,” you joked, hoping to ease the tension surrounding all of you. They chuckled tearfully on your shoulder before pulling away. You placed a hand on your brother’s face. “Whatever you need, text me. I will have my bodyguard get you and bring you here, okay?” He nodded, tears in his eyes out of gratefulness for having you. You were always so thankful he was never ungrateful. “Go. I’ll talk with your sister really quick.”

He nodded and bid his goodbyes. Though, before he left, he turned to look at the three men still quietly staring. “Goodbye. Take care of my sister please.”

They all nodded their heads.

“We will,” Jimin mumbled much to everyone’s surprise.

You watched your brother leave before turning to look at your sister. You placed your hand on the sides of her face, looking at her sadly. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m okay,” she said, her own eyes becoming blurry with tears. “They’re just too much.”

“Whatever you need, I’m here,” you muttered, hugging her again one last time. “You know that.”

“I know,” she sadly chuckled, nodding her head in agreement. “That’s why I call you my own mother figure because that hag outside is nothing to me.”

Snorting, you softly slapped her back. She could hear the smile in your voice as you scolded her. “Don’t say that.” She laughed with you before pulling away. “I’ll see you then?” She nodded. You sighed. “Okay then. Please take care of yourself. You have my number and stay out of trouble.”

“I will,” she breathed out. You kissed her cheek one last time. She looked over your shoulder. “Take care of my sister.” Her smile vanished and a stern look overtook it. “I know people who can get the job done. I even have a bunch of haunted dolls that will get attached to you as soon as you touch it. Don’t tempt me.”

Taehyung couldn’t help but let a small smile slip on his mouth at the threats. “We’ll take care of her.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at them and turned to look back at you. “Be happy.”

You felt that familiar lump in your throat at hearing her words, and you blinked away the tears threatening to escape your eyes so you wouldn’t worry her. You watched her leave and you couldn’t bear the thought of crying in front of the others. This was a different feeling than the one you felt at reading the book.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled, walking yourself to the library you had in the other room.

The three men looked at each other but Namjoon, understanding you, sighed at your figure closing the door behind you.

“I’ll talk with her.”

Jimin and Taehyung watched him leave and they were left with a solemn air surrounding them. They could only hope Namjoon did his best to reassure you.

“Hey,” Namjoon said, closing the door behind him. He watched you sitting on a chair with your hand covering your face.

“I have an ugly crying face, leave,” you let out, though Namjoon could only register a couple of words since your mouth was muffled.

He snorted and shook his head, ignoring your words. He sat next to you and silently sat there, legs stretched out. He glanced at the back of your head and leaned back.

“My parents were like that.” His words caught your attention. “I mean, they were a bit worse but, the amount of manipulation and guilt-tripping they did to me for the majority of my childhood. I lie all of the time that they were nice, loving parents or that my mom was great, my dad was great, whatever. But in actuality, they were a bunch of assholes who never recovered from their own childhood trauma so they took it out on me until I eventually became them.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you breathed out.

“I get that feeling of being afraid that you’re going to end up like them but, when you’re self-aware, when you know their actions,” Namjoon held your hand in his so you could understand the sternness of his words. He wouldn’t just say all of this without meaning to, “you’re already the best version of yourself. You know what they’re doing is wrong and you’re already close to the fact that you’re not going to become like them.”

A moment of silence became you.

With a sigh, you sat up, and rubbed your eyes.

“You really have a way with words if you’re not a douchebag, huh?” He noticed you had the habit of doing that; to get rid of the tension by making small jokes. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at your attempt. “Thank you, Namjoon. I am sorry you guys had to be here to witness that mess.”

“It’s okay. It’s nothing I haven’t seen. As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“Good. Let’s get some cotton candy, yeah?”

“Okay.”

He smiled at you and softly patted your head. “And please, if you want to cry before meeting your parents, come with me. You can cry however much you want around me, I won’t mind. It’s better you have someone than being alone.”

“Just say you like me.”

“Who wouldn’t, bestie?”

“You ruined it.”

< before - after >

[ddollfface]

God, I love golden retriever men so much.

*Intensely staring at my fav athlete*

Now, that I have a brainrot~

1. Our lovely Athlete with a nerd darling.

- This would be funny. It is giving black cat × golden retriever. So hard.

- Darling has anemia? She's used to sitting around and reading? Can't walk too long to save her life? He's fucking carrying her everywhere.

- Can you imagine darling bringing a book about his sport (I don't know if you've mentioned what he plays) to the game and reading as they watch him play cuz they don't know crap about sports? He'd be so, "But you're supposed to be watching me." :Insert puppy eyes:

- He's isolating darling? Eh, Darling needs a 4 hour nap after every social gathering anyway.

Ok but-

2. Him with a nerd darling who's a childhood best friend, where darling has a childhood filled with emotional and physical abuse. (I'm finna design a whole ass character to ship him with. If you don't mind, of course.)

- This.

- Don't let me get started on this.

- They would be so power couple coded fr. (Darling knows Athlete is trying to manipulate her. Doesn't care as long as she's getting taken care of.)

- Darling is snarky with a S.

- Darling: "The cheerleader was flirting with you."

Athlete: "I know. :3"

Darling: "Go marry her."

Athlete: "But you're the love of my life. :("

Darling: "Oh, really? I could've sworn it was Cindy instead. Go to her, shoo."

Athlete: "No."

Darling: "Who's bestie are you?"

Athlete: "Yours."

Darling: "Exactly."

- Don't let this fool you, tho. He's def the dominant one in the relationship.

Athlete: "You're my baby :D."

Darling: "Mhmm. Don't say that infront of anyone else."

Athlete: "Why not?"

Darling: "I'll bite your head off, that's why."

(spoiler, he says it in front of everyone and darling does nothing but get shy.)

Darling: "Why would you say that?"

Athlete: "Becuz you're my baby?"

Darling: *cuddles closer to him.* *Whispering* "I'm his baby."

- 💗 anon (if I may) (also, he's my baby now, thank you. I'm keeping him in my head and heart.) (It's so late at night. I just keep thinking about this 😭 and I can't put my thoughts into proper words rn, bear with me on this)

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈

𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗮𝗳𝗮𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Trigger Warnings; yandere behaviors, possessive behavior, talk about trauma bonding (both reader and yandere or mentally ill), yandere masking, bad writing, and me rambling (I'm so sorry 💗Nonny lol) If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡ I offically declare you 💗Nonny!! And I don't mind you coming up with your own interpertations of reader and LoveSick!Athlete! Just share 'em! Also, I may or may not have gone on a tiny, just tiny, tangent, so sorry 💗Nonny... Feel free to submit more asks if 'ya want

LoveSick!Athlete can really mold and mend well with most personalities and darlings, this is due to his manipulative personality. A little off-topic, but he really has a hard time understanding who he is because he's always pretending to be what others deem "acceptable". This causes him to have a multitude of identity crises, but when his darling, you, comes into the picture, it makes it easier for him to find himself. He feels like he's the real him whenever he's with you. You just feel so natural, he feels natural, too. It's just right.

And for that reason, I think LoveSick!Athlete would go really well with a childhood!reader, seeing as she's been with him since they were young. And, I'm not too sure if you've read my Yan!Alphabet for him, but I mention LoveSick!Athlete's childhood; let's just say it wasn't the best situation for a kid.

LoveSick!Athlete would feel a special bond with his darling now, seeing as they've been together threw thick and thin. He's trama bounded to you, and you to him. We'll run off the assumption that reader has also had a bad childhood, whether it be an absent parent, abusive sibling/family member/or parent, whatever it is allows you to feel a connection to LoveSick!Athlete, seeing as you have a mutual situation. You both have something to bond over, something that locks you together.

He has a bad home environment, you have a bad home environment. He doesn't feel at home, so you become his home, and he to you.

And I like to run on the assumption that reader is all talk, no bite. And if you've read any of my writing where the reader talks, you'll see that I prefer to write reader as more "real" (to me anyway) because I'm personally not the hugest fan of the "helpless" reader. I like to write a darling who has a mouth, someone who's bratty (but that's 'cause I'm a brat lol).

Anyway, I'm getting off-topic, back to LoveSick!Athlete.

To your idea about a snarky reader, I totally agree. Honestly, LoveSick!Athlete would eat that shit up, no joke. He would love it, as he enjoys the back-and-forth between you two. He loves to press your buttons, wanting to see what sarcastic reply you have ready for him.

The thing is, he knows your just talking shit, never willing to actually do anything. You just run your mouth, and he lets you, but whenever you step outta line, sometimes, he's gotta put you back. Though, you'll never think of it like that. No, no, he's too sweet for that. He's gotta keep that golden retriever vibe going, y'know?

He just swat you on the ass, telling you that you got such a dirty mouth, mamas? I thought you were my little princess, no? Girls with a face like yours shouldn't be speakin' that like-

He'll just move on, as if he didn't just grope your butt, nope, not at all. And you'll be standing there awestruck, face red, and biting your tongue as you try to not overheat in embarrassment!!

It never ceases to entertain him, watching your face widen with surprise whenever he refers to you as his girl, his cute little girlfriend. The way your face heats up when he wraps his strong arm around your waist, putting his cap on your head (a silent sign of possession over you, trying to get the guy in the back to keep his eyes to himself, but you don't need to know that ;)).

In your little monologue, you go over some cheerleader girl (named Cindy??). Though I would agree that chicks (and some dudes) practically flock around LoveSick!Athlete, I would say that he doesn't even pay them any mind, not even entertaining the thought. Don't get me wrong, he'll talk to them, but make it painstakingly clear that he's only got one girl on his mind, you.

Most of the time, the girl will just find it endearing, slapping his shoulder, and telling him that he'd make a great husband or some shit like that. Of course, the chicks joking, making some nice comments to leave the, now awkward, conversation, but LoveSick!Athlete will take it to heart. Now, he's imagining a pretty ring on your finger, something he paid for, he got you. Because he'd be such a good provider for you, don't you know?

Another thought, 'cause I'm on a role, but I'm not sure if I've directly said this or not, but LoveSick!Athlete is a hockey player. I've tried putting strickly hockey photos on all my posts (you should see my Pinterest feed, it's filled with hot guys lolol).

Hockey is an aggressive sport, I would know. I used to ice skate every day for an hour or two. And, trust me, I got to see a lot of hot guys, though I was always too nervous to say anything, that's beside the point.

I can imagine that reader would be the same, intimidated by these testastrone-filled, young men who just wanna get all sweaty and gross. And I prefer to think that reader also doesn't know how to skate, much to LoveSick!Athlete's enjoyment.

Just to torture you, he'll take you to his ice rink, partly wanting to show you off, and also wanting you to rely on him to move around. He won't even let you hold onto the side, nope, all you got is him, babes.

And anyone who's been to a rink before knows that if you're not on the wall, or smack in the middle of the rink, you're in traffic, especially if it's busy. And this means that you gotta go fast, keeping pace with everyone else. And there's always a handful of assholes (usually hockey players) who will purposefully do a hockey stop, flinging a shit tone of ice at newbies.

I imagine that this shit would happen all the time and LoveSick!Athete is enjoying it sm. He gets a rush every time you flinch, clinging onto him tighter, especially when the really fast skaters zoom by you, scaring the crap outta you.

And he won't let you go at your own pace, forcing you to follow his lead. This means you're going far too fast for comfort, leaning on him for support. You're arms wrapped around his bicep, which isn't recommended btw. Your cheek pressed against his arm, holding on for dear life.

You'll snap at him, telling him to shut up and stop enjoying this, you dork. I'm only clinging to 'cause I gotta!

And he'll just take it, giving you a lopsided smirk.

[mochamamii]

yandere!nct: you try to unalive yourself.

▹ a/n: hello loves, I can’t remember if I’ve written something like this before but I wanted write something a little darker today but soon I will force myself to write some fluff I promise lol.

▹ pairing: yandere!nct x reader

▹ triggers: self-harm, readers attempts to unalive themselves, kidnapping, forced relationships

▹ warning!: I can’t stress enough how triggering this might be, I get descriptive at certain parts and I strongly urge you to consider whether this is something you want to read, this is dark and not my normal writing. please prioritize your own well-being and do not read this if it will influence you in anyway, I have lots of other lighter reads 💕

Taeil won’t let it get this far. Taeil loves you deeply and wants only the best for you no matter how demented it appears to others. He dotes on, and nurtures you like his life depends on it, carefully crafting your meals and your routine to keep your mind and body healthy. If something like this were about to happen, he would be able to foresee your declining mental state and hopefully prevent any attempts. Taeil would do everything in his power to keep you safe and he’d do his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He’d even consider letting you go if it meant saving your life.

“How could you do this to yourself? Don’t I take care of you well?”

Johnny is always calm and collected, even when he’s pissed off, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, he always keeps the same mask on, never giving you any idea of what he’s thinking inside his head. Until now that is…He comes home to find you on the bathroom floor. At first he thought you must’ve slipped, hitting your head and knocking yourself out in the process, not that it had been done intentionally. Johnny is at a loss of what to do, it’s one of the few times he’s not sure what to say or do to fix this. He usually has a witty comeback to lighten the mood but he knows now isn’t the time. He helps fix you up, cleans the wound on your head, and tucks you in bed. Anytime you part your lips to speak he’ll shush you. The two of you will probably sit in silence for a while until he can figure out how to address this.

“It’s okay, shhh…Just rest, save your energy. We’ll talk about it later.”

Taeyong is an angry mix of emotions. He’s known for at least a week now that you somehow managed to obtain poison. He theorized that you must’ve used cleaning supplies to mix a cocktail of chemicals, he found you hiding your stash under the bathroom sink. He assumed your plan was to use it on him, simply out of curiousity and amusement he wanted to see if you were actually capable of trying to kill him so he didn’t address it. He wanted to see how far you’d go to leave him. He waited and waited, but he never noticed anything different. He already had cameras installed in your shared apartment to watch you while he was away, he hoped to find you tampering with his food in a botched attempt to poison him. But still, nothing ever came of it. Until suddenly, you were the one who fell sick. His worry turned to anger as he arrived home one night to find you on the floor of the bathroom, the mixture of poison lying next to you.

“Are you insane? What were you trying to do, kill yourself? Do you think that will work, because I promise you, nothing…not even life itself will keep me from you. Don’t ever do something stupid like this again.”

Yuta feels remorse. It’s one of the few and probably only times Yuta will ever feel this way. Out of everyone, Yuta is one of the most intense and dangerous yandere’s, but he still loves you in his own twisted way. He likes to push your buttons and torture you a little but he’d never kill you…probably. For Yuta, part of the fun is seeing how badly you want to live, how badly you want for him to release you and return to your old life. When he arrives home to find you on the floor, a dark crimson pool of blood surrounding you he panics, all the color draining from his face as he sees your barely conscious body. He’ll clean you up, bandaging your wounds, he’ll monitor you for a few days wondering if he should take you to a hospital. In those few days as he waits to see if your condition worsens he’ll be super gentle, much more gentle with you than he’s ever been. His hands will run over all the old scarred skin where he’s cut you in different places before, a deep pang in his chest screaming at him for doing that to you. He’ll be soft with you, but he can’t help but still poke fun at you in an attempt to get you to talk to him.

“Hey, couldn’t you wait for me? At least I know when to stop, clearly you’re still an amateur…You could’ve really hurt yourself. What would I do then, huh?”

Doyoung is angry. At you, but mostly himself. He likes to believe that he knows you better than you know yourself. To come home and find you in the middle of attempting to harm yourself he will realize just how little he truly knows about you and your condition. Initially the only emotion he can really process is anger, the thought of coming home a second too late and losing you enraged him. Even while angry, he was solid as rock, never giving you much of a clue about what he was thinking. He will carefully nurse you back to health, never leaving your side not even for a second. Once you begin to recover he will experience heartbreak and grief over what could’ve happened. Doyoung won’t address the incident much and will from then on refer to it as the ‘incident’ he wants to pretend that it never happened. He’s a stubborn man and his behavior towards you might not change much, if anything he gives you less freedom, afraid to let you leave his side.

“Never do that again. Hate me. Hate me all you want to, but never do that again. Please.”

Jungwoo is distraught after finding you in such a state. He’s in disbelief and this is a rare occasion in which he is truly afraid. Afraid of what could’ve happened to you and what might happen again in the future if he’s not careful. It flips a switch in him and forces him to realize something that he cannot shake. That he might not just need to protect you from the world but from your own self too. He becomes distrustful of you, scared and afraid that you might try to hurt yourself again. There’s no amount of convincing or promises in the world that will put his mind at ease. This fear will drive him to act irrationally, he’s not above strapping you to a bed all day while he’s gone if it means keeping you safe. In his mind you forced him to take these measures to keep you safe.

“You know why I have to keep you locked up like this don’t you baby? I can’t risk you doing something like that again, what would I do without you?”

Mark is shocked. He never expected it, he doesn’t necessarily make your mental health a priority for him. He knows you probably hate him and that you’d do nearly anything to get away from him. He just never thought unaliving yourself would be on the table for you. In fact, he probably expected you to try and kill him before you ever tried to hurt yourself. He will feel shameful and for the first time a little guilty about taking you. I don’t see him ever letting you go but he might be willing to talk and see what changes can be made to make you more ‘comfortable’ in your new life.

“Don’t punish yourself for the decision I made. If you wanted to kill someone it should’ve been me. Not you, never you.”

Haechan’s response might come off as cold and heartless. That’s only half true. Initially he might try and make himself believe that it wasn’t you who did it to yourself but that an intruder broke in and attacked you. When he realizes what you tried to do he knows that nothing he will say will comfort you or inspire you to never do it again. You hate him, so much that you’d rather die than be stuck with him another second. What could he possibly say to change your mind? His approach is a little brazen and risky but he wants to test your will to live. How badly did you truly want to be free of him? He used the only thing he knows for sure works in keeping you in check. Fear. Your fear of him and what he might do.

“What? It’s okay for you to go around taking lives but I can’t?” He asks with a quizzical expression as he holds a knife to your former friend’s throat, his icy eyes piercing into yours.

[bea-ce]

If only I could make you believe you deserve everything

pairing: kaveh x reader (can be read platonically or romantically)

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

summary: life is awful at times. very much so that you end up falling back to bad habits to get you through it. luckily, you have kaveh to help you guide back to the right track.

word count: 4.2k

notes: hii!! first post! (and its hurt/comfort RAHHHH) kaveh might be a little ooc as i havent gotten to him in the archon quest yet, so i apologize for that in advance! i poured my heart and soul and my own personal experiences into this,,  i apologize if the comfort is a lil wonky.

title is inspired by Nicole Dollanganger’s song “Please Eat”.

trigger warning(s): mentions of ed/having an ed, descriptive experience of having an ed, mentions of relapsing into unhealthy coping mechanisms, self inflicted harm (self harm), descriptions of self-contempt, descriptions of feelings of unworthiness.

let me know if i missed any warnings

It had been a while since the last time you’d done this. The thought of even returning back to this state was beyond you. Everything had been going so well it seemed. Sure, life still threw inconveniences towards you, but you handled them just fine, you thought.

Clearly not, as you’re now back to restraining yourself from eating and indulging yourself from something that’s vital for you to live. You knew the risks of refusing yourself food, you’d read all about the consequences and health risks of starving yourself.

Yet that is the precise reason you’re doing this.

You know how harmful this is and you know it’s bad. The knowledge of the dangers and harm in doing it is exactly why you continue doing it though: It’s your punishment. A sigh escapes your lips as you try concentrating on the paper that lay before you instead of the numbness that starts taking over your legs and the quivering of your hand. There isn’t any way for you to not notice how your body is screaming out for something to eat. It’s constantly reminding you as your vision is clouded with dark spots whenever you move and how your body shakes as you do any everyday task. Despite its cries for food, you ignore it and open the lid to the water bottle beside you and empty half of it to ignore the ache in your stomach due to its emptiness. 

It helps, somewhat, as it fools your stomach for sometime at least. In a shaky motion you place the water bottle beside the pile of assignments you have to finish before the end of this week. 

It’s difficult to get anything done when the ache in your stomach extends to the rest of your body, making the most simple task like reading over the text presented in front of you and writing down notes feeling so incredibly demanding on your body. A groan escapes your lips as you lean back into the chair and drag your hand across your face in annoyance. You need to finish these assignments, yet you can’t. Everything feels so hazy and your mind is blank, unable to think of anything other than the feeling of hunger growing more intense.

The bustling from the kitchen can be heard all the way into your room. Usually at this hour you’d sit by the kitchen table and eat with Alhaitham and Kaveh, but you’ve locked yourself away in your room, drowning yourself in work to ignore the deep wretched feelings that linger within you. A faint knock on the door echoes throughout the room as a voice calls out from the other side. It’s Kaveh’s voice, calling out to you. "(Y/N)?" Your name is muffled by the closed door as you turn around in your seat to look at the source of the sound. There stands Kaveh, holding a plate with food in his hand while the other one is still gripping onto the door handle.

Your eyes quickly scan his face before they dart down to look at the plate he’s holding.

It’s too much, you think as you look at the contents of the food. Numbers appear inside your head the longer you stare at the plate, feeling repulsed at the thought of putting anything in your mouth and fulfilling your hunger at the cost of the imaginary numbers going up.

You turn around to face the paper you’ve been staring blankly at for the last hour, waving Kaveh off. “I’ve already eaten.” You answer courtly. You haven’t, but telling him you weren’t hungry wasn’t an option. Kaveh would be reluctant had you answered that you weren’t hungry and placed the food by your table instead. The thought alone that he might do that makes you want to cry and scream in panic. You can’t risk letting yourself indulge in the food that he’s made: You must go through with your own punishment.

Kaveh sighs and grabs the door handle, about to leave and close the door before the sound of your stomach growling bounces off the walls. He stops in his tracks as his grip on the plate tightens. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you tense up at how your stomach contradicts your words from earlier. A deep terror stirs within you as your thoughts wander off to all the possible reactions you might receive from the blond man at the revelation. You hear how he shuffles behind you and closes the door behind him as he approaches you. You dare not to turn around to look at him, instead you hold up your face above the paper and stare intently onto it, trying to focus on the words that dance around across the paper to ignore Kaveh’s look of pity and concern.

Kaveh is standing right next to you, his grip on the plate is so incredibly tight that his knuckles have gone white. His eyes are soft and laced with worry as he looks down on you, and to be honest; he’s not sure how to handle this situation he’s being faced with right now. He places the plate next to your bedside table instead of the table in front of you, knowing better than shoving unwanted food up your face. It’s not what you need right now.

Kaveh sits on the side of your bed, boring his eyes into the back of your head as he waits for you to do the first move, to begin the conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you off now that he’s found out. He can feel the pain within you. He can see the hurt and the desperation, but he has no words to fill the silence. He doesn't know how he could possibly help you, but he wants to. More than that, he wants to try.

“I’m fine” you try to subside the situation, playing it off to only being a one time thing when it’s clear to the both of you that it isn’t. 

Kaveh interrupts you. “You’re not fine.” Kaveh still has the same gentleness to him, but there’s a certain amount of firmness to his words too. It leaves no room for you to slither your way out of his confrontation. “Are you hurting yourself? Are you starving yourself?”

The words feel like he had just physically assaulted you, as if he had pulled out a knife and stabbed you in the chest while twirling the knife around inside of your heart. The words feel as if Kaveh had just falsely accused you of a crime you hadn’t committed. 

But the two of you know better than that. You both know that the reason you feel so attacked is because Kaveh is calling you out, and rightfully so.

“No! No. I am not starving myself.” The words come out much harsher than you had intended them to be, sounding defensive and giving yourself away to Kaveh. The pile of paperwork that needs to be done stares at you mockingly as you look down on the paper in front of you that is still blank.

“I’m just- I don’t want to eat.” It’s half the truth. You do in fact not want to eat, but it’s for all the wrong reasons you don’t want to eat. Kaveh sighs as he gets up from your bed and walks up behind you. For a moment he almost reaches out to you, but he draws his hand back and places it on your chair instead of your shoulder, like he had intended to. He’s reluctant to touch you. In this moment right now, you’re fragile, and he must tread carefully so as to not break you.

“Do you think I don’t see it?” His voice is gentle, but there’s a certain edge to it. It cuts right through any excuses that might slip past your mouth to escape this conversation neither of you want to have. The words have you cornered, and as if you were reliving an experience much like this -where you were confronted and you admitted, only to be rejected from the care and help you needed- you feel a need to run away from him. To run away from your home, from the house, run, run and run. But where would you run? There’s no way for you to run away from him, and even if you did: Where would you run? 

Would you even have the energy to run away from him with the way your vision would cloud with black spots covering your sight and with the way your legs feel numb?

Reality hits you like a brick as you realize that Kaveh has you cornered and at his mercy.

A hitched breath escapes your lips as you feel your hands and feet going cold along with being overcome by dreadfulness as the situation you’re in slowly sinks in.

“This is unhealthy, and you know it, don’t you?” It’s not much of a question really. His voice is firm, trying to cover up his own shakiness as your condition dawns upon him. “Please.. could you talk to me?” he pleads, letting his hand fall from the chair, down to your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze. The contact makes you flinch as it pulls you back from your swarm of thoughts, back into the present with him. The words seem stuck in your mouth, suffocating you and preventing you from voicing your thoughts and feelings that you’re left only shaking your head at his request of opening up. Kaveh lets out a sigh as he lets his hand fall from your shoulder. For a moment, you think he’s given up on you and will leave you alone to deal with your misery by yourself; the thought causes you both pain and relief. Instead, he walks around your chair and crouches next to you as he looks up to you from below.

“Please. Talk to me.” he begins as he balances himself on the armrest all while tilting his head up at you. “What can I do to help you? You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know!” you finally exclaim as your face falls into your hands. You inhale shakily as Kaveh continues to inspect your face for something, anything.

“I don’t.. know.”

Everything around you spins like an unpleasant merry-go-round ride as your vision becomes clouded by the black spots appearing before you.

One of the consequences of not eating, you suppose.

How you wished that you could’ve kept this secret from him a little longer. Long enough for him to not have to have this confrontation with you right now.

Kaveh can only feel pity as he looks at you. You look so fragile right now, so weak. It hurts him to see you so, to see your body shaking from your hunger.

He has a question that he wants to ask, but he feels afraid to. You don't owe him anything, he supposes. 

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" How do you ask someone why they are harming themselves? How do you say that without it coming across in a terrible way? Kaveh had an immense sense of empathy, but even that had its limits.

"I deserve it." 

The words slip out your mouth with ease, as if the question had no other answer but that. Tears that you had been holding back from the moment your secret was out swell up in your eyes and threaten to fall down on the blank, empty paper sheet that should’ve been filled in by now. The dripping of your tears resounds in your head and you pray that Kaveh doesn’t hear how you’re covering your paperwork in tears.

"I deserve it." You repeat the words shakily this time as a sob finally manages to escape your mouth. All you want to do is make yourself as small as possible so you can just vanish from the earth’s surface. But you can’t.

So you do the next best thing, which is curling yourself into a ball while you let the tears flow down your cheeks as your entire form tenses up and shakes from the anguish you feel inside of you.

Several feelings washes over Kaveh. Ones of confusion, concern and guilt.

You don't deserve this. 

Nobody deserves to feel so low. And you are so, so very low: starving yourself just as a punishment.

He can't help but feel pity for you. The words come out before he can even stop them from slipping past his lips: "Why do you deserve it?"

He's trying to be kind and supportive, he really is, but it's painfully hard for him to find the right words. It’s difficult seeing a loved one tear themselves apart in front of him all while thinking they deserve to suffer and break.

His question is one not even you can answer. It’s a question that you’ve pondered about whenever you’ve come to your senses after having breakdowns much like these, and each time you’re left with no answer. There's only that part of you, that little tiny voice in the back of your head that tells you that you deserve nothing less than pain and suffering. That this is the only way for you to get rid of the mental turmoil you experience on a daily basis. 

That the only way to get rid of the emotional and mental pain is to double the physical pain, and what easier way is there to feel physical pain if it isn’t to inflict it upon yourself; by yourself?

How do you help someone who believes that?

It's not like you can just tell them that they don't deserve it. How could he ever convince you that you’re wrong? How can he convince you that there's a better way than starving and hurting yourself? 

How is any of this supposed to be okay for you?

"(Y/N)," he calls out your name, the sound of his voice pleading yet somehow still kind, "(Y/N). There is no reason to hurt yourself. You deserve better."

As if you weren’t already curled into a ball you only manage to make yourself smaller as you cry, your entire form shaking. It's not till now that he's so up close to you that he sees how your body is covered in goosebumps and the bruises that linger across your body. They look self-inflicted and Kaveh can't help but let out a wince as he looks at the bruises that cover your skin.

He tries his hardest to contain his horror at seeing what you’ve done to herself. It looks so painful, so terrible, but it's clear from your shivering, from your shaking, from the way your face crumples - from the way you curl up into a ball so easily - that this isn't your first time.

You’re hurting, and at your own hand.

He doesn't know how to process that. He has never seen anyone do this to themselves. He can't imagine how any of this could be good.

Your grip on your legs only grows tightens as you cry into your knees, on the verge of wailing from feeling how your heart aches. It’s as if someone is tightening their grip on your already fragile heart, and it hurts so very much.

You could handle feeling hungry, and you could handle inflicting pain upon yourself, littering your body with bruises to show for it. Yet you couldn’t handle the feelings inside of you that were crushing you and tearing you apart. You had learnt to handle your inner turmoil by ignoring the feelings until they grew so great that the only way to rid yourself of the demons surrounding you was to hurt them through yourself.

The relief was only temporary, sure, but you’d do anything for the moment of peace in your inferno called your own mind.

He sighs heavily, the sound filled with regret and pity. Kaveh doesn’t say anything and remains looking up to your face as you quickly unravel before him. 

This is beyond him. He doesn't know how to comfort you- how to help you. He has no idea what to say or what to do. It’s all so overwhelming - all these feelings of fear and confusion and pity and care - that he doesn't even know how to begin to process, let alone express.

He places a gentle, comforting hand on your knee as you continue to cry. You’re so up in your own thoughts and emotions that you can’t get yourself to pull away from his touch.

It’s not that his touch wasn’t comforting. It was very comforting. And that was exactly why you wanted to pull away from his touch.

You don’t deserve that kind of comfort.

"I'm sorry.." the words come out so weak, putting your broken state on full display for Kaveh. A sob escapes your mouth as you try your best regaining your composure to no avail. Each breath you try and take control over gets interrupted by a sob or a gasp for air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you repeat as you burrow your face further into your knees. Your words are slurring as you’re choking back your cries to get the words out of your mouth.

Kaveh doesn't even understand what you could possibly have to be sorry for. You've done nothing wrong. You've committed no sins worth feeling so terrible for. 

But how does he tell you that? How could he convince you of the truth that appears so clearly to him but isn’t as obvious for you?

He doesn't.

How does he convince you to get past these terrible feelings of wrongness, when you’re so very convinced that it's your punishment? How does he convince you to give yourself kindness and care, when you believe yourself so unworthy? How does he make you realize that this isn't your fault, that you haven't done anything that deserves all of this?

Kaveh moves closer to you - so carefully, so slowly. As if you’re something fragile, to be treated with respect and care. Because you are fragile. You’re hurt, and you’re so, so small. All he wants to do is to hold you, to bring you comfort, to hug you, to hold you in his arms. He just wants to lift your heavy burden off of your shoulders. But he doesn’t reach out to do any of that, it doesn’t feel appropriate to do so right now as you’re sobbing in front of him and curling yourself into a ball.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says quietly. "You're hurting yourself, and that can't be okay. Please," he adds, his voice pleading, "Let me try to help you. You don't have to do this. You don't deserve to do this."

You had always had a hard time accepting other people’s kindness and comfort, it was extremely difficult for you to understand and wrap your head around the concept of being treated with decency and care from another being without expecting anything back in return. The feelings overwhelm you and you feel how you want to throw up from Kaveh’s attentiveness, it’s all too much for you.

You’d rather have him walk out on you and leave you in your pitiful state to fend for yourself. It’s what you’re used to. And when he breaks what you consider a norm, your world falls apart with it.

The tears flow down your cheeks as if they’ll never come to an end. 

Kaveh can see it from the way you gasp and wail when his words of care finally register.

It’s written all over your face - your pain, your hurt - it’s clear that you’re not used to being treated with such care and attention. It’s clear that this isn’t something you’re used to; it’s clear that you’re not used to having someone trying to help you.

It breaks Kaveh’s heart to see you struggle like this. He doesn’t know how he can get you to accept this treatment from him, from anyone.

He wants nothing in return; he only wants to help. How can he get you to understand that? How could he ever assure someone that they’re deserving of unconditional care and love when that very someone is so fully convinced that they deserve pain? 

"You need help," he says quietly. "Let me help you."

Why do you deserve to suffer, to hurt yourself, when you’ve done nothing wrong? Why are you so cruel to yourself? Kaveh lets the thought wander in his head for some time before he shakes his head in disbelief. He can’t come to any reasonable conclusion as to why you’d be so cruel to yourself. He could only speculate.

Is this why you hurt yourself? The thought intrudes him, as he tries to stay focused on comforting you.

Because you feel like you don’t deserve kindness?

But why? Why wouldn't you deserve kindness? This isn't because of any mistakes you’ve made, is it? Has someone made you believe this? Or is it something that you’ve always thought? Either way, you’re wrong. You deserve kindness. You deserve the world. 

You deserve to be treated well.

"You deserve so much better," he says quietly, "You aren't pitiful. I promise you that you are so much more than what you tell yourself you are." 

Kaveh places his hands on top of yours as he rubs comforting circles with his thumb on the back of your palms. Another sob escapes your lips at his attempts to soothe your ache. He can feel the way you tremble under his hands as he gives you a gentle squeeze of comfort to stabilize your quivering form, even if it's just by a little bit. He keeps rubbing, still trying to help you. Neither of you say anything and the only thing to be heard in the room is the sound of your rapid breathing and hitched sobs. And while the tremors still persist, your sobs are becoming less frantic. He thinks he might be comforting her just slightly, but it's good enough for now. At least it’s a start. 

Kaveh wants to say something, but he doesn't know what to say. He's never been in a situation like this before. He doesn't want to sound like an idiot. But he also doesn't want to stay silent.

He cannot bear to see you like this, and he doesn't want to imagine how much pain you’ve been carrying for you to end up here like this. 

He wants so badly for you to be okay. He wants nothing more than to give you his care and comfort. Kaveh gets up from his crouching position and feels his legs tingle from sitting like that for so long, but he ignores it. It’s not important right now. What is, is you and your wellbeing. 

He assumes that if you responded positively to having him rub your hand, then maybe you'd respond better to affectionate comfort. Kaveh is reluctant at first. A hug is much more personal, much more intimate than drawing circles on someone's palm. So he asks.

"Is it okay if I hug you?"

You tense up at the request reluctantly. Granted, you and Kaveh would usually greet one another by giving a quick hug with a pat on the back before getting to it. But this was different. Much different from those lighthearted moments you’d share before you go off to wherever you had planned on doing for the day, whether that was taking a walk amongst the streets of the city or just enjoying one another's presence as you work deliberately.

You’re hesitant, and Kaveh is about to reassure you that it’s fine if you don’t want to until he sees a small nod coming from you. Your eyes quickly dart down to meet his before you avert your gaze from him, feeling the shame and embarrassment crawl along your back amongst the other feelings that roam inside of you.

Kaveh is quick to act as he pulls you into his embrace. 

He holds you protectively, as if he just holds you close enough to him he'll be able to shield you from the cold, cruel world that's hurt you so. You just want to hold on to him. Just wants him to hold you, to hug you and hold you close to him. 

The warmth is so comforting, so very comforting that the little voice in your head tells you that you aren't worthy of this kind of affection. That you don’t deserve to be cared for like this, and a part of you still holds onto that truth. Despite that, you cling onto him as if he were your lifeline, the very last thread that was keeping you from floating away. You want this- you’ve been yearning for someone to hold you like this, and even though a loud part of you disagrees- that part of you that tells you that you’re not deserving of this- you can’t help but bask in his warmth that he provides for you.

The plate on your bedside table catches his eye, long forgotten. The food had obviously gone cold by now. Whatever, Kaveh thinks. It doesn’t matter, he can always just warm it up later. What matters is that he helps you back on your feet and support you through this. 

You don’t have to fend for yourself anymore. He’s here now, and he’ll help you through it. He may not be capable of chasing away your demons for you, but you’ll always have his endless support.

He’ll spend an eternity if it means he could make you believe that you deserve everything.

[borahaerhy]

Dealer (10) - myg

Summary: Your boyfriend seemed like a dream come true: always wanting to be around you, making sure you would get home safe, never taking his hands off you. These little comforts became your whole world, and then the only thing you were allowed to have left in the world. Luckily, your boyfriends drug dealer turned out to be a much nicer guy.

Pairing: DrugDealer!Yoongi x Female!Reader

Genre: Mafia/drug kingpin au, Y/N coming from nothing, found family, Eventual smut

Warnings: So much action omg, multiple people get shot, chase scene, Namjoon's a doctor?, lots of blood, Jungkook makes a joke, Namjoon performs (minor) surgery, mention of Y/n taking shooting lessons when she was younger, Y/n and Yoongi being soft, someone's missing a chunk of their ear but I'm not telling who, Someone's name is just the letter 'L' (death note theme intensifies), descriptions of Y/n previous relationship

Word count: 2.6k

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Note: If you are sensitive or triggered by abusive relationships or manipulation in any way, please do not read this fic, it can be very triggering. It will also be referenced that Y/n used to self-harm, and has self-harm scars. This fic is going to cover a lot of intense topics, and there will be a lot of drugs.

Yoongi was on you in a matter of seconds, checking to see if you were hurt as they started driving away. “Are you okay? What happened?” 

“I’m fine, Yoongi, Namjoon stepped in before anything bad happened,” You spoke softly as you reassured him, his face and body visibly relaxing as you spoke. 

“We’ve got a tail,” Jungkook spoke softly as he reached up and pressed a button on the overhead console, opening up the sunroof. He reached down beside the seat he was in a picked up the AR-15, before he stood up on the seat and stood out of the roof, and started firing at the car behind you as Namjoon started moving faster, dodging between cars and taking sharp turns down alleys. 

It didn’t take long before there were multiple cars following you. Yoongi cursed under his breath as he noticed all of them piling up and narrowing in before he pulled out his handgun and leaned out of his window, firing bullets haphazardly at the moving targets behind him. 

They were shooting back, bullets raining from people hanging out of every window of every car. “Someone give me a gun,” 

“What!?” Yoongi yelled, looking back at you before returning his attention outside, having to pull himself back in the car to dodge an oncoming bullet. Yoongi was about to protest again when Namjoon pulled the gun from Jungkook's side holster and handed it back to you. 

You pressed the magazine release to check and see if it was fully loaded. It’s a Glock 43, 6 rounds. You pushed the magazine back in and rolled down your window, swiftly moving most of the top half of your body out. You steadied yourself, aimed at the front driver’s side tire at the car directly behind you, and pulled the trigger. 

Hit

The car swerved off to the side and into oncoming traffic. The car behind them moved up quickly. Aim, hit. Two more cars move up, side by side. Car one, aim, hit. Car two, you moved to aim, squaring up the shot perfectly when a bullet came whizzing toward you, and you had to duck back into the car. Miss. 

“Why the fuck hasn’t she had a gun this whole time?” Jungkook yelled from above the car as Namjoon took another risky turn, nearly throwing Yoongi out of the car. You reached your hand up to your ear, your hand covered in blood when you pull it back down to look at it. Shit. 

The shattering of the back window made you duck down behind the seat. Jungkook groaned slightly, falling slightly before he repositioned himself; the bullet that broke through the window must’ve hit his leg. 

You positioned yourself behind the headrest of the seat, now having better cover as you aimed again, only two cars left, and two bullets left in your gun. 

“Y/n, you’re bleeding-” 

“Yeah and I need to focus,” you adjusted your aim and hit, the car swerving sideways, taking the car behind it with it as it rolled out of control. You turned around, ducking back behind the seat and Namjoon turned down an alley. Jungkook’s leg was bleeding badly, blood soaking his dark jeans and running down the armrest it was resting on. 

He almost fell back into the car and into his seat, as you took his gun from him and put it in the trunk, not really knowing where else it could go so that you wouldn’t be afraid of it going off. “Y/n, Jesus, you’re covered in blood,” Yoongi looked terrified as his hands gently moved to cup your cheeks, looking all around to see where it was coming from 

“It’s just my ear, they bleed a lot; Jungkook’s in much worse shape than I am,” You said as you pulled out of his grasp, moving forward to see if there was anything you could do to help him while still in the car. 

“We’re not far, he’ll be fine,” Namjoon rushed through his words, taking occasional glances at Jungkook while trying to navigate the grid-locked town that you were in. 

Less than a minute later, you pulled into a seemingly deserted parking lot right next to an old factory of sorts; not unlike the one Yoongi took you the day you met. You all rushed out of the car to help Jungkook; Namjoon and Yoongi carried him as you opened the unlocked door Namjoon instructed you to get for them. You all rushed in from one side of the building as Jin and the others rushed in from the other, a large group of men you could only assume to be some of his men right behind them. 

“L, go take care of the car, everyone else, secure the perimeter. What happened?” Jin yelled out orders, his men dispersing as he helped Yoongi and Namjoon get Jungkook onto a table. 

“Jungkook got hit, I need to get the bullet out,” Namjoon spoke clearly as he tore open Jungkook’s pant leg, getting better access to the wound as Jin started turning on some large lights that were already set up around the table. 

“Shit, Y/n, are you okay?” Jimin rushed over to you, Hoseok and Taehyung following right behind him. 

“It’s her ear, she wouldn’t let me look at it-” 

“Because it’s fine,” you spoke as Jimin pushed your hair to the side to get a better look. You could tell by the look on everyone's faces that it didn’t look great, but it wasn’t something you were too worried about as you looked over at Namjoon, who had forceps in Jungkook’s leg. 

Jungkook groaned loudly, almost yelling as you rushed over to him, grabbing his hand and helping hold him down as he squeezed onto you, pain coursing through him. Jin was holding his leg down next to you as Namjoon stayed focused on getting the bullet out, everyone else slowly moving around you to watch as he pulled the bullet out, which thankfully hadn’t fragmented. 

“Bullet’s out, checking for any bits of glass,” Namjoon spoke coolly as he picked up a pair of glasses with surgical loupes attached to them, and went back to Jungkook’s injury. Jungkook’s grip had relaxed significantly as he looked up at you, brow furrowed tightly as you could tell he was trying to hold back from gripping onto you any harder. 

“You sure my leg’s worse than your face?” Jungkook joked as he noticed the blood that was not only covering half of your face and neck, but had completely soaked through a rather large portion of your shirt. Namjoon looked up for only a second before he moved back to Jungkook’s leg. 

“She’ll be fine, it’ll only take me a few minutes,” Jin looked over at you in unison with Namjoon, shock covering his features, as he hadn’t noticed you yet. 

“Yoongi, you mind taking over for me?” Yoongi quickly moved over to Jin’s spot, holding Jungkook’s leg down as he had been before Jin’s hand met your shoulder. “Let’s clean you up a bit,” You looked down at Jungkook, who gave a single nod before you left him, Jin pulling you back towards a bathroom. 

“Here,” he spoke calmly as he handed you a paper towel he’d just wet from the sink before he started wetting another one. You started wiping your face as you moved in front of a mirror, where you gasped at the sight of yourself. 

“I thought everyone was being dramatic,” you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself as you started wiping the blood from your cheek and neck. Jin smiled with you as he wrung out his paper towel, waiting for you to need a replacement.

“That happens sometimes, it’s just shock: it stops you from feeling the pain as it’s happening,” 

“Y/n,” You turned around, Hoseok standing at the door. “Namjoon said he can look at you now, he’s just finishing stitching up Jungkook,” You nodded and followed him out of the room after throwing away your paper towel. 

“There’s our hero,” Namjoon smirked as he looked up at you, still finishing up Jungkook. “Just sit down over there, I’ll be over in just a second.” 

“Hero?” Jin questioned, suddenly a lot more interested in what happened on the mission than he was previously. 

“Yeah, you should’ve seen her,” Namjoon spoke proudly as he made his way over to where you were seated, moving one of the lights with him before he propped it up on your right side and pulled up a chair to sit next to you. “She shot everyone's tires, only reason we got out of there alive,” 

“You can shoot?” Jin looked almost taken back, a sly smirk still twitching on his lips. “Why didn’t you say anything, we could’ve been using you,” You shrugged. 

“No one asked,” 

-

Namjoon finished cleaning up your ear before wrapping it in gauze, and you all piled into Taehyung’s van and went back to the safe house. After getting Jungkook settled into a room, Yoongi insisted on staying in your room with you, not wanting to give anyone the chance to get back at you again. 

“I wanted to thank you,” Yoongi spoke carefully, as though he’d gone over the words he was saying over and over again before speaking them aloud. You turned to look at him, standing by the doorway as you stood next to the bed. “You know, for saving our asses,” You smiled as you looked down at the bed you were about to climb into. 

“I figured I owed you one,” You crossed your arms over your chest as you walked up to him, stopping a few feet from where he was standing. He smiled lightly, nodding his head as he avoided your eyes. 

“Where did you learn to do that, anyway?” He asked, straightening himself out to match your stance, his arms crossing. You shrugged as you let your arms fall. 

“My uncle used to take me shooting when I was a kid. Said no boys would ever want to fuck with a woman that could shoot them in the dick from fifty yards away,” You chuckled as you remembered the day he said those words; you’d hit your first target from fifty yards, and he was so proud of you. He’d picked you up and spun you around before making you do it again so he could get it on video. 

Yoongi’s expression fell slightly; he wished your uncle had been right. “Guess it’s kind of fucked up now, given the situation we’re in,” yiu spoke softly, still smiling softly. Yoongi shook his head and took a few small steps toward you. 

“No, I don’t think so,” His eyes moved to the side, staring into space as he thought for a moment. “Well, maybe a little bit, but if anything I think the fact that you have the capability to do that kind of damage and still choose not to is incredible,” 

You felt your face begin to heat up as he carefully studied your features. Every new thing Yoongi learned about you made you so much more endearing to him. All the pain you’d gone through and the struggles that set you back; yet you were still positive despite everything. And even now, after everything, you were still positive. You always found a reason to be happy, a reason to crack a joke and try to lift everyone else’s spirits, regardless of the pain you were in. 

You quite literally got shot in the head earlier today and still made sure Jungkook was okay before you even began to worry about yourself. You saw everyone struggling to keep you safe and in less than six bullets saved them all. Everything about you seemed to make him want to know more, to see more of who you really are. 

“I don’t know if incredible is the right word; I mean you have the same ability that I do, I don’t see you killing people that aren’t threatening you,” The heat in your face only got warmer as you looked anywhere but Yoongi’s face. He couldn’t help but smile lightly as you spoke. How could you still be so adorable to him now, after everything? 

“I also haven’t gone through what you have. And people generally don’t threaten me because of the people I’m affiliated with. That, and I’m not near as good with a gun as you are. I stopped paying attention for half a second and nearly got shot,” You smiled, finally bringing your gaze back to meet his. 

“Well I actually did get shot,” You joked, blushing like an idiot. Yoongi spoke to you differently than what you were used to. Even with Zeke, who was overly complimentary and always finding a new way to make you feel special or important, he never made you feel like this. 

He would fuck up and then smother you with affection. Flowers, chocolates, dinner out at an actual restaurant while he showered you with praise. He’d always tell you how pretty you looked and how he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have you. 

And even though the rest of the guys didn’t mean to, they all looked at you with a certain level of pity. They all meant well, but it was impossible to avoid. 

But with Yoongi, it was different. 

It was all in the small details. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, how much he wanted you to be safe, even if he wasn’t the one keeping you safe. When he touched you he was gentle, always watching your reaction to anything he did to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable; kept his emotions in check so he didn’t scare you. 

Nothing he did was to benefit him. He didn’t like you for his own selfish wants; he liked you because of the person you were. 

“How is that, by the way?” His hand came up and gently brushed your hair back so he could see your ear, still bandaged up the same as the last time he saw it. You flinched away slightly, the side of your head still thumping. He stilled for a moment before he let your hair move back down and moved his hand to cup your cheek. 

“Not bad, I suppose. Mostly just worried about how the chunk missing from my ear is going to look,” Yoongi shrugged, looking over at the small strip of tape peeking out from behind your hair. 

“Pretty badass, if I had to guess. Especially when you tell the story of how you got it,” You scoffed, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “Something so small doesn’t really matter. We’re all safe and happy; the way a little bullet wound looks isn’t something you need to worry about. Not now, anyways,” His voice was low and rough as he spoke as the two of you got gradually closer together, almost as if an invisible magnet was pulling you into him unconsciously. 

He closed his eyes as your foreheads met, his thumb rubbing your cheek gently as he sighed, almost sounding relieved. You just stood like that for a moment, your hands clutched onto his shirt, one of his hands on your cheek and the other resting in his pocket as you leaned into one another. 

Yoongi had a way of making you feel safe even in these vulnerable moments. There were no expectations, no requirements for his affection. He held you because he wanted to, because it felt good to be near you, not because he wanted something out of it. 

So there you stood, completely safe in one another's presence.

Taglist: @pamzn @fvcuidk @cybm1n @limiworld @scuzmunkie @hyunjingin @nellyboosworld @giselleg7784 @zaeve @lovelgirl22 @rosquilleta @kooliv @bangtannie7 @strawberryjimin13 @anjoellamorte @limitlessdespondency @lalaoise @roxy1205 @lavender-ivy @orangecarrotlemon @billy-jeans23  @jwlmnbt @artemis1862 @luaspersona @wittyreader @be0mluver  @acquiescence804 @dustyinkpages @namjoonsbuspass @damiiworld @cynicalbitch666 @rosiejunnie @dahliasbouqet @bxcndd @neverthefirstchoice @kisuga @idkjustlovingbts @xyahrinx @jksteponme @hobicakess @lifestragedy @kpop-khh-writer-trash

[our-destiny]

If you’re comfortable with it can I request a blurb or headcannons (whatever you prefer) with yandere Bucky Barnes with a darling who never wears anything that goes above the knee but eventually they get comfortable (assuming they haven’t been yoinked at this point) with Bucky that they take a chance and wear something that’s above the knee, and they just have a lot of SH scars on their thighs. I struggle with it still so it’d be v comforting.

That or a darling with an eating disorder because they feel like they don’t deserve to eat, or others deserve it more than them (I also struggle with this) (multiple skill issues on my part👎)

Tyyy!

-💪🌝

Thank you for sending in a request, in this post I'll do SH scars but I'll do another post for an ED, and I'll link it here when I'm done. Anyway, we're gonna do headcanons! <33 Also I hope this helps comfort you bb

Yandere Bucky sees GN!Darling's self harm scars

Trigger Warnings: Self harm (both past and present), implied suicide, stalking, kidnapping, Bucky's a perv and watches you change + a sappy note at the end from yours truly - if I missed anything please let me know

Want to read more of my work? Check out my Masterlist

. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ . *  ✯. ☪︎* ☁︎. . * ✰ .· ☁︎ .

First off, our baby boy here definitely stalks you, and has probably seen your scars when he'd watches you get changed (little pervert). So when he sees you wearing something that shows them, he won't be very surprised. Chances are he'll just gloss over them and not mention them to hopefully make you more comfortable. But let's talk about how he first felt when he saw them.

Bucky was absolutely heartbroken when he saw them. You hurt yourself? Why? He thinks you're the best person in the world, he would move Heaven and Earth for you, what made you do that? He's not judging you, no he would never. He's just worried.

He probably stays awake at night for the first few days when he finds out. Worrying if he's gonna lose you, or if he's done something wrong. His stalking gets more intense, wanting to make sure you don't do it again, or hurt yourself worse.

If they're fresh ones he thinks about confronting you. About giving you a long speech about how he loves you, trying to intervene and help. But then he remembers that you don't know he knows. He shouldn't know. So that idea gets scrapped. So now he has two options.

1. Take you home with him (he doesn't like the word ''kidnap'') so he can physically stop you, even if he has to tie you up or lock you somewhere.

Or 2. Physically stop you by just taking away whatever you're using to hurt yourself. Knives would be the easiest, he'd just take them when you weren't looking, and if you bought more he'd take them, too. But if it's something else (your own nails, burning yourself, hitting yourself) he'd have to do something else. In that case, he'd be forced to take you, to keep you by his side and under his watch so you didn't hurt the person he loves any more.

Either way he is incredibly worried, and would act as soon as possible to try and help you from the shadows. He'd also insist that he's here for you, that you can call him whenever you want, even if it's the middle of the night, your safety comes above anything of his. He just wants to make sure you stay by his side, and happy. Is that so bad?

If they were old ones and healed up he wouldn't be as worried but still heartbroken.

Even the thought you did something like that just makes him want to cradle you and kiss your cute face all over, reassure you for hours on end. But he can't, because you don't know that he knows.

Either way, he becomes a lot more clingy and reassuring, telling you he's here for you if you should ever need him and showering you with even more love. Again, once you actually showed him, he wouldn't mention it or make a big deal out of it, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or pressure you into talking. But if you do want to talk, he's all ears. And has snacks and cuddles at the ready to comfort you.

As always, don't hesitate to reach out if you are struggling, there are many resources available to help you, pkease use them. Even if you feel no one cares, I care. And I love you. So take care of yourselves <33

[ihavethedreamies]

From Afar | What the Heart Wants (1)

Qian Kun & Nakamoto Yuta (NCT)

Rating: Suggestive (18+) MDNI

Nothing explicitly is said or done, but sexual interactions are implied.

The beginning of this story has the reader underaged, but nothing happens or is implied to happen before she turns 18.

Word Count: ~14.2k

Pairing(s): Kun x AFAB!Reader x Yuta, the primary pairing is Kun x Reader, but it's kinda both for the first part.

Genre: Reader-Insert, Altered History AU!, Royalty AU!, Plot! (wow), Fluff? (not for sure that's what to call this), not quite smut (yet), Angst (but angry)

!!There are mature themes discussed…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used, Arranged Marriage (ish), Harems/Multiple Wives (more fiancées…), Bullying (see Caution), Some Swearing, Borderline Misogyny/Sexism (you'll see, not from the boys, just like…society), Favoritism, Love Triangle, Jealousy, Pining, One-Sided Crush/Infatuation (or is it?)

Caution: This story is a bit darker than my normal stuff. There isn't bullying throughout, just one intense scene. It's not in a school setting, but I do want to warn anyone reading this that it could be triggering. I'll be real and admit that there is definitely toxicity here, and I know that's what it is, I try to be realistic with my stuff. There is also a part where the reader has a severe allergic reaction, so if that is something that is hard for you to read, be aware. Please let me know if you think I need to add in any more specific warnings or cautions.

Author's Note: This is based off of a dream I had while I took a nap a bit back. I changed some details because what happened in the dream was a little too unrealistic. But, most of it is pretty much the same. I have a lot of Kun dreams, but most of them I can't write a story with because there are weird cross-overs with my real life and often the video game Mass Effect (lol), so…

P.S. Kun is my Ultimate Bias and so…I held back for so long of going down the rabbit hole because I knew I wouldn't be able to crawl out once I did. I am working on another much longer series so that's why I don't have much posted for him yet since I want to get it mostly done before I post any of it.

P.S.S. The reader has a bad allergy to coconut, which is one I have. So, it might seem a bit extreme with her reaction to it, but I know from personal experience how bad I can be with it. I haven't had the same thing happen though.

I split this into two different parts because I hate reading a long story, and then the app or page somehow gets closed, and then you have to scroll to find your spot… The second part is just smut, literally just the smut part, but it was so long I needed to separate the two parts.

Part 2: Up Close (Smut)

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Your life seemed to end before it really began. Things like harems for royalty and royalty itself should be in history books and old stories, not modern times. Yet here you were. Historians often talk about how much different the eastern world might look had Japan been successful in taking Korea nearly 100 years prior. Would they have ruled East Asia rather than the Korean Monarchy? Would China be its own country still? Siam? All you knew is that if World War II had gone much differently, you wouldn't be in the situation you were.

In order to keep the commoners and everyday folks of each country of the Korean Empire in line, the Emperor would marry a noblewoman from each land, therefore forming his Harem. When he was a prince, he had his little group of girls that followed him around and did everything with him, almost like some kind of harem anime or even American dating show. One would be picked to be his 'main wife' and the rest were concubines. That's what you were. Well, almost. You were 'in training' to be a possible concubine or wife. The king had five wives, and a son with each woman. The eldest was Taeyong, from the king's first Korean wife; then Prince Yuta, whose mother was Japanese; third born was Prince Kun, from a Chinese mother; second youngest was Prince Ten with a Siamese mother. His birthname was not used very often since most people didn't know how to pronounce it, and finally the youngest Prince was Prince Doyoung. His mother was Korean as well and since he was the youngest, he had the least responsibilities. Not necessarily in a bad way, but he was quite lazy and didn't go out very often. Each prince had a symbol that then was used to name his girls. Taeyong's was a rose and so his girls were The Petals. Yuta's was the Cherry Tree, so his girls were The Sakura. Kun's was a Bear, and his girls were The Ursas. Ten's symbol was a cat and his girls, The Tabbies. Finally, Doyoung's symbol was a rabbit, so his girls were The Bunnies. The name he chose somewhat showed how little he cared for formality. It was too much effort, and he was actually considered the best prince to follow. None of the princes were bad, though, it was simply that Doyoung was the least strict, and there were less rules overall. Taeyong's group was the most prestigious since he was the Crown Prince, and so it was hard to stay in The Petals.

Many different things could make a girl leave or get kicked out. It was pretty easy to get kicked out actually, but most of the time it was by the other girls. Jealousy and competition were rampant, but if sabotage or cheating was ever even just suspected, you were out. Each prince got their initial set at the age of eighteen, and the girls would be at the most two years younger, never older. So, when Prince Yuta hit the proper age, they sent out the search committee. Your father had told you as a little girl that he would never, no matter how much money was offered, let you go. Unfortunately, he didn't get to make the decision because he passed two years prior. Your mother couldn't manage the family estate and business well either, so she remarried, and of course your stepfather was more than willing to hand you over. You never learned how much he was paid, but you knew, to him, it was more than you were worth.

There were always five girls, two from Korea and one from China, Japan, and Siam as well. When you were escorted to the royal palace, you looked up at the tall arch allowing entry onto the grounds. Due to historical preservation laws, no one actively lived in the palace, but there was a modern campus built for the royal family. The guards let the fancy black car you were being escorted in through and it continued down the road past the elegantly preserved palace. Finally, after nearly five minutes of driving, the vehicle stopped in front of what appeared to be an extremely fancy hotel. You were told the main estate was further into the campus and was where the King and Queen lived with the Concubines. Where you were to live was where the princes and all of their entourages lived. Shakily, you got out of the car when it came to a stop, the heels of your black Mary Jane's clicking on the stone pavement. Your suitcases were removed from the trunk, and they went off to your room as you were led down the opposite hallway. Looking around at your surroundings, the building felt less like a royal residence and more of a luxury apartment building, there were even a few restaurants. Finally, after a long walk in very uncomfortable shoes, you were told to enter a large ballroom and you stood in line with what seemed to be twenty other girls. That was a surprise, you thought for sure you had already been chosen. While you wanted to pray you wouldn't be chosen, you also feared being sent back to your stepfather. Your soft yellow and white dress was probably just as expensive as the other girls’ but seemed much plainer. Standing straight, trying to remember your etiquette training, the line of girls all did the same, stiffening when a door on the other side of the ball room entered. At least, you thought it was a ballroom. There was a stage on the opposite wall and that was it. No tables or chairs, nothing. You felt the girls to your left and right turn their heads to try and see who entered, but you just stared ahead. The three people that entered stopped in the middle of the room, a bit to your left since you were toward the end of the line. The other girls were whispering, and curiosity took over and your eyes flicked to look at them. It was a servant, most likely since he was in a butler's outfit, a man in a business suit, and who you assumed to be the prince. He was beautiful, and that was an objective fact. His dark brown hair was longer, hitting his shoulders and he had it tied back into a half-ponytail. He was not dressed like a prince really; he had on a black T-shirt or tank top with a soft-looking grey sweater over it. He was in jeans and sneakers, and you looked down at your dress, then at the others. You were sixteen, but you felt like a little girl then, with your high-collared, long-sleeved white button-up with a yellow sundress over top. Though, it seemed he preferred casual, and you were the closest to that. His stance was casual as well, arms behind his back, leaning his weight on one leg as he lightly swayed, looking over the line of girls. The servant cleared his throat, and it was like some kind of primal instinct took over, and you placed your hands together over your stomach, and bowed low. No one else did. Panic set in when you realized this, hearing the other girls whispering. Now too nervous to stand back up, you pressed your lips together, but stayed bowed.

"It seems she was the only one raised correctly." A new voice, a woman's, cut in and you heard another person walk in. The woman stopped in front of you, and you only saw the bottom of her dress and shoes, she was dressed in the traditional dark green and blue hanbok.

"You may look up, dear." She prompted and you straightened, looking up slightly at the much older woman. Her hair was graying at the roots, but she was still quite beautiful. Her hair was tied back in a bun with a simple wooden pin and you swallowed under her sharp gaze.

"Prince Yuta, please come here." Her tone changed, and she bowed, stepping to the side and you froze as he left his original position and strode over to you. He stopped before you and you dropped your gaze. Don't look at his face. That was clearly something no one else learned and you were a bit worried about that, though, his handmaiden seemed pleased with you. Didn't mean he would be.

"How old are you?" His voice was soft, deeper than you thought it would be.

"Sixteen, your highness." Your hands still rested over each other, flat against your stomach and you tried not to flinch when his finger went to your chin. He lifted your head, but your eyes stayed down, no matter how badly you wanted to look at his face better.

"Look at me." He prompted and you obeyed. He was even more attractive up close, more handsome than you thought, still pretty. He tipped his head and a similarly pretty smile spread on his face.

"Her."

After that, you were quickly whisked away.

"What will happen with the other girls?" You asked the maid that was taking your measurements after you reached some sort of dressing room.

"He will pick the other nine and you will begin training." The same older woman from before entered then and you nodded jerkily, trying to process everything.

"Training?"

"It seems you have begun on etiquette already, unlike the other girls. That will help. Ten girls will start and after your four years the final five will graduate up. You will all learn everything you need to, to be a good woman of the royal family and possibly a future princess."

"I see." The same maid began holding up different swatches of fabric next to your face, flipping through different colors. Seemingly making a decision, the maid nodded to the head handmaiden, and you stepped off the small pedestal you had been set on.

"Let us go child, I will escort you to the dormitory."

 ~*~*~

Over the next four years, as you were told, you trained. Ten girls all lived in a four-bedroom apartment, three in two, and two in two. It was miserable. You really didn't mind the training and tutoring itself, it was the clique-like mentality the girls had even within the dorm. Let alone in the other training groups. You felt like an outlier the whole time but staying quiet and laying low helped. You yourself were not bullied, but you weren't friends with the other girls either. Not in any of the groups. Prince Taeyong's girls were a few months ahead of your group and the other three were not even a year younger. The eldest prince was only about four months older than Yuta, and he was only a month, maybe two, older than Kun. The youngest were each a month after. It seemed the King had gotten to work quickly…

For the first year you almost never saw any of the princes, not even Yuta. It seemed the first year was really used to weed out girls, and that was when some of the original twenty made a return. If one of the ten got kicked out or left, they replaced her. That was not what you expected at all, but it seemed you were relatively safe. You only got one demerit over the first year, and it was minor. The rules were strict and after your first dink you never messed up again. What did you mess up? You forgot to put in your earrings before the morning check.

After the second year, you would have more interactions with Prince Yuta, and sometimes the others. That was when you first met the third-born Prince. Kun. Your eyes widened when you saw him, it was like some kind of rose-colored filter hung around him. He was…perfect. You weren't sure exactly what drew you to him so heavily, but it was nearly backbreaking, the weight of your crush. It didn't help that your infatuation was with the completely wrong prince. Most of the girls were good at staying loyal to their boy, and if they weren't, that was grounds for expulsion. It was your first true hinderance and possible snare. The only one, really. Luckily, he wasn't around too often in the second year. For no reason, really, you hated the girls in his group. They were so incredibly fortunate in your eyes and didn't realize how much so. Was Yuta bad? Not in any way, shape or form. He was extremely sweet and kind, generous…but he wasn't Kun. To you, that was his greatest sin. Your obsession was a bit worrying, honestly. Though the girls were given a therapist they could talk with, she was there for things like homesickness and anxiety. Not near yandere-levels of love for a Prince not their own. Okay…it wasn't that bad, but you feared that if your mind ever got too weak, if you broke, it would be that bad. When third year rolled around… It got so much worse. The princes did a lot of things together and if a girl made it to year three, then she got to as well. On the new year of year three, the girls remaining were the final ones. One could leave, but she wouldn't be replaced. So, what most often happened, is the gaggle of fifty girls would each take turns with which five would go on an outing with their prince. What killed you about those, was when you were picked, and Kun would be there. It was hard to keep your wistful stares off of him and you prayed he would stick near Yuta for as long as possible, so you could look at him all the more. He was what most considered to be the handsome one among the half-brothers. Taeyong was what the girls defined as cute-hot. Could be either. Yuta was handsome-pretty, Ten was just pretty and Doyoung was just cute. Kun was handsome to the rest, but to you he was also the cutest, prettiest, and hottest. He was by no means buff, but he was able to build the most muscle tone out of all of them and you couldn't help but stare when his pants were just the right amount of tight around his thighs. When you finally got close enough to really look at him the first time, you cataloged every little feature you could. Especially the beauty mark under his right eyebrow.

~*~*~

You were truly a goner when you attended a causal tennis game the princes were engaging in. Doyoung sat off the side with his girls, and they were literally playing some kind of board or card game instead. You sat with the four other Sakuras on a bench, not even watching the tennis ball fly between Yuta and Taeyong's rackets. You were staring off into the distance, messing with a stray string at the top of your knee-high socks. If the head handmaid saw it… Wrapping your finger around it tight, you yanked to try and pull it away, the elastic tightening with each tug. You were so preoccupied with your sock that you didn't even hear the warning call, but something thunked against the back of your head. You yelped, falling forward off the bench, managing to catch yourself with your hands, but you scraped your knees up badly on the court-floor.

"Hiyomi!" Yuta immediately called and was at your side. You weren't even sure if you would have known he was calling you if he had said your real name. You hadn't heard it in such a long time.

"Good job!" Ten shouted sarcastically and you heard another come to your side.

"Hey, you okay?" Yuta helped you sit up a bit, letting your rest your forehead on his shoulder as he looked at the back of your head.

"I'm so sorry, Hiyomi." Your body froze when the other person's voice seemed to speak right in your ear and another hand rested on your upper back.

"Does it hurt there?" You hadn't even realized Yuta had pressed on your neck at the base of your head. He must have taken your sudden rigidity as a pain response. Carefully, slightly, you turned your head so you could glance out of the side of your eye, through your hair, at a red shirt. Only one of the princes was in a red shirt that day. You were sure your face turned about that same shade when you realized the other boy so close to you was Kun, and that the hand on your back was his.

"Hiyomi?" Yuta prompted again and you flinched back to reality.

"Uh, no." Your own hand came up to run over your head, wincing as you felt the small bump forming under your hair. The hand left your back and you felt Yuta move your hair so he could see where you pressed. You gasped when Kun's hand came back, his fingers gently running over the bump.

"She should probably go to the infirmary." The younger prince decided, and Yuta hummed in agreement.

"I'm so sorry, Hiyomi." He apologized again, and even though it was your alias, hearing him speak your name twisted your insides around.

"I-It's okay." You were too scared to lift your head as Yuta helped you stand, knowing that if you met Kun's gaze then you would fall back to your knees.

"Come on, sweetheart." Yuta wrapped an arm around you so he could lead you toward the building and you felt the glares of your team boring through you. It was evident even before then that Yuta favored you, and it made the girls mad. You never made more of an effort to woo him like they did, you just lived your life naturally, and that seemed to be what appealed to him.

"I guess the nurse isn't here right now." Yuta had helped you sit on the edge of one of the two cot-like beds and then he kneeled in front of you.

"Do you mind if help with your knees?" He had noticed the scrapes, and you shook your head with a hum, and he left to get the first aid kit. It was then you really felt the pain in your head, but you hadn't even seen stars, so you doubted you had a concussion. The tennis ball hadn't been going that hard, it had bounced on the court before it hit you, slowing it down pretty good. When the prince came back, he cleaned the scrapes and you winced at the sting. He was so gentle and put ointment on as well before the band-aids. As his thumb smoothed over the bandage, he opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse decided to return right then. He went back out to the tennis court as she looked you over and she suggested you rest for a bit, there was no concussion evident, but you did still get hit in the head.

You had managed to drift half-way to sleep, and you somewhat registered hearing the nurse step out, and someone not too long after coming in. It was a different person for sure, they weren't in heels, and you wondered if it was the head handmaid. Flittering your eyes open when you felt them move to your bedside, you jerked in shock.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" You tried not to panic, eyes falling quickly to the white logo on his red shirt. You were allowed at that point to look at Yuta's face, but you weren't sure about the other princes. Plus, if you did, you might just explode.

"N-No." You shook your head against the pillow and shuffled under the light blanket. Fuck. You tried not to wince when he kneeled down so he could meet your gaze. He smiled. You were done for.

"Sorry, I really didn't mean to let the ball hit you. I tried to go after it, but I'm not very fast." Kun huffed bashfully and you just gaped. Speak! Say something, stupid!

"I-It's okay."

"Can you tell Yuta you're not mad at me? He looked like he wanted to kill me." You knew the look. Yuta was definitely the scariest of the brothers.

"Y-yes." He sighed in relief at that and stood back up.

"I should probably go before you get in trouble for me being in here." He huffed in annoyance and then waved as he left the little infirmary. You were truly and royally, ironically, screwed.

~*~*~

Of course, it got worse through the third and into the fourth year. All the teams had been narrowed down to the final five, the girls that were weeded out were essentially turned into the reserve team. You didn't know what that meant until after you graduated. And you did. You were in the final five for The Sakuras, the little junior harem of Prince Yuta. You were also the forerunner, the informal leader despite being the youngest, but you were the least popular. Out of all twenty-five girls, they all either hated you or didn't care to acknowledge your presence. To them you put in very little effort to get to your rank, well, how you ranked to Yuta. In actuality, you put in the most effort, and had no demerits and never had to make up in any of your training. All of the other maknaes, the youngest, were the favorites of the other girls. Not you. You didn't fit the cutesy, sweet image you were supposed to it seemed. The graduation wasn't going to be until April. Because the princes were so close in age, they decided to just do everyone at the same time, and that just made the internal competition even worse. Though, your favor with the head handmaiden granted you a privilege. Early information. You knew things before anyone else, you were warned. That's how you saw it anyway. It seemed that there would be another year of training after graduation. Everyone was of age by then, which meant the sexual teachings started. It had to wait till you were finally assigned to your prince, since he would head your 'studies'. You were to learn what he liked, how he liked it and so on. It was a rumor by that point, and many girls were unbothered by this. It made sense and they were okay with it since they would be future wives anyway, and some were even looking forward to it. You didn't hate Yuta, not anything close. You did like him, but… You decided then that you had to give up on the younger Prince. You were Yuta's, and that was final. You also learned that the girls that fell through the cracks more or less joined a brothel, modern day gisaeng for the princes and their friends. Not only did the girls graduate in April, so did the princes. And that meant everything changed. You wouldn't say that they turned into scoundrels, but finally they were more-or-less unrestrained, so they let loose. Parties. Drinking. Sex. Lots of it. You never asked about the other princes, not wanting to learn that your beloved prince had fallen into debauchery as well. Their personalities hadn't changed, they weren't abusive or even rude, but they turned into animals. You heard that Ten and his friends had full orgies with his girls and the extras. You knew when Johnny showed up that something utterly filthy was about to go down.

Taeyong seemed to be more restrained, but he was somewhat selfish. He didn't want to share his Petals, but that didn't mean that it wasn't just as naughty what happened in his quarters. Doyoung preferred more low-key engagements, but just because there was only one girl in his bed didn't mean they weren't going at it for hours on end. The only first-hand knowledge you had was with Yuta. Obviously. Honestly, you seemed to be corrupted more and quicker than the other girls. It was one of the few times you felt like you could be yourself, not constantly worried about doing and saying the right things. It was a good outlet as well for all the emotions you pushed down and hid. You were open to most things, mostly because Yuta was by no means selfish. You preferred the more carnal and kinky acts honestly; you weren’t sure you could ‘make love’ to him. The only thing that first gave you pause was when he asked if you would be okay with two of his friends joining. No other girls, just the three guys and you. It was a bit scary at first, and you wondered if your future husband had some sort of fetish, but his reasoning shocked you.

"You let me do whatever I want, Hiyomi. I want to spoil you." He spoke between kisses along your neck, your shoulder exposed from where his shirt had fallen over it. Yuta wasn't that big for a man, but he was bigger than you, his clothes baggy on your body. If you asked him, he probably would be okay with just one wife. And it would be you. You wished it wasn't though. Even with the comparatively few interactions you had over the years with Kun, you had hopelessly fallen for him, and you were content to pine after him in the distance for the rest of your life. That was better than nothing at all.

"W-which friends?" You shivered as his fingers ran over your back under the garment you had on, one finger slipping under the waist band of your lacey panties.

"Jungwoo. Mark?" His arms wrapped around you and pulled you down further into his lap, his hard cock straining against his pants. It seemed the thought alone turned him on. Those two? That was fine. Most of the princes' friends were shared, but Yuta was the closest with the two he offered. It made sense. It was odd at first to think about it, but if you weren’t sleeping with Yuta out of love, then it wouldn’t be too much different with them. And, based off what you knew the other girls did, it was actually relatively mild.

"You don't have to, sweetheart." Yuta nuzzled under your ear, and you sighed.

"That’s fine." It became a somewhat regular occurrence. And, as far as you knew, the other girls were not in a similar arrangement. But they knew, or at least, knew parts. This made them hate you more, they saw it as favor. It was one thing for a prince to indulge himself in three women, it was another for one woman to get ravished by a prince and his two friends. That was the ultimate sign of favor, you were good enough to not just get solo access to Yuta whenever but get the same treatment from his two just-as-attractive friends. The other girls knew, but they didn’t realize it was a common thing, just once in a blue moon. You didn't talk about it, because you knew how the others would be with it, and it honestly made you want Kun more. Somehow. Even with three men only wanting to please you, you wanted more… Not more, just someone else. 

~*~*~

You had a close call though, you almost got found out. There was some big event that the princes were having, some formal party. It wasn't a drunken orgy or anything, almost like some kind of game night with all their friends. All of the girls went as well, it was supposed to be childish fun. You hated it. Not minding cuddling up with Yuta, you hated doing it with all the girls glaring at you. Mostly the other four in your group, because it made his favor toward you all the more obvious. You managed to get through the night, taking the chance to watch Kun without restraint when they decided to start some karaoke. He was the second-best singer after Doyoung, but none of the brothers were slouches. Some of their friends were pretty good themselves, could have been their jobs. It wasn't you ogling him while he sang that gave you away though. And, either fortunately, or horribly, Kun was the one that noticed. The guys were all taking random pictures together, and you stood at the side watching, honestly enjoying the random things they were doing. At some point Kun ended up sitting on the floor, holding up his closest friend, Chenle, so he didn't fall off of Jeno's back where he stood. You covered your mouth and giggled, eyes flicking to Kun as they tried to hold the pose for the picture. His eyes flashed to meet yours and you felt yours grow wide. He smiled, straight at you, and not the sweet one he normally gave at formal events or to diplomats and other public figures. It was a smirk, and it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. You knew your face was once again red as a cherry, you could feel the heat leaving your skin. You quickly avoided his look; hand going to try and cover your face as you slipped away from the crowd and toward the restroom. You splashed cold water on your face, then met your own frazzled gaze in the mirror. Taking a few deep breaths, you moved to leave but heard voices in the hall, so you halted.

"You know that Jingxian girl is a bitch, right?" The voice was familiar, but quieter than you were used to, so you almost didn't recognize it was Chenle.

"That's harsh." Another person replied. Renjun?

"It's true." That was Yangyang.

"Wait, was she the one who threw her soup at that maid while they were in Europe?" Renjun asked.

"Yeah. She also apparently pretty much stole some girl's necklace that she liked when she went to Japan with…I think her name is Eiko?" Chenle replied.

"Kun-ge told me that she had taken some book from one of Yuta's girls and threw it in a fountain. It was signed or something. He made her replace it and she had to pay like a million won." Your arm jerked away from the handle then. Yuta told you a maid had done it on accident…

"Was it the quiet one he got the leather satchel for?" You shook your head a bit in shock. Yuta got that for you…you thought.

"He told me he tried to get Yuta to let him have her in the beginning, but he said no." Chenle continued, and their voices faded as they continued down the hall. Your head was swimming and your heart had started to race again. There was nothing you could do if all that was true. You were Yuta's, and that was final.

~*~*~

There was a final straw for the other Sakuras though. At it would be their downfall it seemed, and they only fell because they weren’t careful when trying to push you over the edge first.

You were in the lounge, the area big enough to easily accommodate all of the girls and let them have all kinds of fun. Your favorite place was on the top bunk, of essentially a bunk-couch. Instead of a bunk bed, there was a nice soft couch with a wooden loft over it, and another couch on top with ladder-like staircase to get you up on. That was your favorite place. It was removed from the central conversation-pit-like area where most of the girls gathered. They would play drinking games and tell all sorts of lurid stories and secrets, while you would sit under the dim light of a lamp and read.

"Hiyomi, come here!" The girl that called you, Eiko, was the second eldest of your group. She was the only one that was actually Japanese herself, but even then, she was given a different name. You each were granted one from Yuta himself, you weren't even sure he knew any of your real names. Your birthnames didn't matter anymore.

Sighing, you reluctantly put your bookmark in your novel and trudged over to the group. Not everyone was there, Ten's girls were probably off getting drunk and defiled, and three of Taeyong's were with him abroad. Sitting down gently in an armchair, you smoothed your skirt down as you did and stiffly rested back.

"We're playing truth or dare." Of course they were.

"Okay?" They never invited you to play anything or do anything with them unless they were forced to. The competition had gotten much worse lately. As the Princes all approached the grand age of 25, they would finally choose their main wife. You were in the lead, to no one's surprise, but to everyone's chagrin. Yours included. You shot a quick glance at Jingxian. She was the forerunner of the Ursas…Kun's favorite seemingly. She was refined, elegant, beautiful. To many she was kind, sweet, but she was cold to you. She was never rude in person and as far as you know, after the book incident she didn't do anything. That was better than cruel though. She was close with Eiko, and you assumed that was why she disliked you so much, since Eiko cared so little for you. You didn't associate much with any of Kun's girls, but still you hated them. No, that wasn't the right word, you envied them. The worst thing was, you knew that Jingxian didn't love Kun. Just like you didn't love Yuta. She was enamored with Taeyong. Well, maybe not him, but his status. He was the crown prince, which would mean she could be queen if she was chosen. You weren't sure who else knew this, but you knew it was grounds for her to be more-or-less banished. If you really wished, you could out her, and get her kicked out, but what was the point? That wouldn't help you any, and there was no point in lashing out at her out of jealousy. That would make you just like all the others.

"Come sit here." Eiko was being way to friendly, which made you way suspicious. You followed her prompt though; you were the youngest after all. There was an empty soju bottle in the middle, the girls clearly having finished it off earlier.

"I'll start." One of the Petals started; her name was Anjeong. She spun the bottle, and you held your breath, only sighing gently in relief when it landed on Eunhwa, the eldest Bunny.

"Truth or dare, unni?"

"Hm." Eunhwa tapped her finger on her chin, "truth."

"How big is Prince Doyoung's cock?" She prompted and the girls chattered with curiosity. You zoned out then, knowing how this whole thing was going to go. Your eyes drifted to watch the gas flames in the fireplace. As you glanced back at the bottle as it was spun again, not even hearing her answer, your eyes passed over Lumei. She was the maknae of the Ursas, and you hated her the most. You could have been her; she was only about a month younger than you. She didn't seem to notice your glare and she giggled when the bottle landed on her when Eunhwa spun it.

"Truth or Dare, Lumei?"

"Dare!" She decided quickly and Eunhwa looked thoughtful for a second, looking around. She smirked and cast a devilish look at Jingxian before looking back to Lumei.

"Show us what Prince Kun's favorite position is." You wondered if they noticed you go still. Completely. You couldn't show a reaction, you didn't want to let any of them know your secret. They would use it to assassinate you. Jingxian scoffed at the question, over-dramatically.

"I don't think she's can." She grinned coyly, taking a sip of her wine and Lumei sent her a playful sneer.

"Honestly, I can't really show you, because I myself can't do it. But…" Lumei looked around and then climbed onto the couch behind her. She sat on it backwards, knees on the back of the couch, back to the cushion, her head hanging over the edge, hair flowing to the floor. She opened her mouth wide and just sat there a second, the other Ursas giggling. Your jaw clenched, eyes stinging, but you still didn't move.

"Her gag reflex is too sensitive." Jingxian pressed on her throat, and she hacked, sitting up to catch her breath around laughs.

"I can't even open my mouth that wide…" Mianyu mumbled, and the girls chattered and giggled. Your tongue ran over your lips, and you pondered if you could. You were all too familiar with that position Lumei mimicked, and at first you had been disgusted at her pose. But now you would enjoy it with Yuta more, you could imagine Kun instead. Like you often did. Your gag reflex was practically nonexistent, whether it was genetics or a fluke, it had always been that way.

"Okay!" Your eyes flicked to the bottle as Lumei spun it, still giggling, clearly tipsy. You sagged in relief when the bottle landed on Aikiro then. She was your biggest rival…in her eyes anyway. She outright despised you, she felt she should be the favorite just because she was the ‘leader’. Okay…whatever.

"Trush or dare?" The Ursa maknae hiccupped and you wondered if the blood going to her head made her drunker.

"Truth." She leaned back against the couch she sat in front of, sending a wry look your way. What did you do? You rolled your eyes and looked back at the fire.

"How many times have you done it with Yuta, and Jungwoo and Mark?" she asked, and silence fell over the group. Your eyes widened a bit, but you didn't look back to the group.

"You idiot!" Mianyu slapped the back of Lumei's head, and she yelped.

"What?" Aikiro nearly growled.

"W-well. I mean, everyone knows that Yuta invites them over a lot. Jinyu said…"

You felt four heated gazes fall on you and you licked your lips, looking slowly back at everyone else. Your eyes flicked to Jinyu who was staring at the floor, zoned out.

"What do you mean, a lot?" Aikiro looked back at Lumei who shriveled under her glare, pressing closer to Jingxian.

"E-every Friday." She replied. Before you could look back to your fellow Sakuras, you flinched as Aikiro stormed over, dumping her wine all over your head. You exhaled in shock, closing your eyes to prevent the alcohol from running into them.

"You fucking bitch! You told them? I bet you brag about it." You grit your teeth, reaching for the nearby tissue roll, but Eiko snatched it from your reach, her own drink joining. The fruity scent of whatever kind of pre-mixed cocktail she was drinking stung your nose and your hair started to drip.

"H-hey!" Gyuri, the kindest one there, the maknae of Doyoung's bunnies, tried. She really did try, but… You winced and grunted when a hand grabbed the back of your hair, yanking your head back so were forced to look up at the owner. Keiho was the oldest, out of all the girls actually, but she was the most cruel. She was the most two-faced as well. Your eyes flicked to her drink, expecting her to dump it on you as well, and your face fell. It was a bottled pina colada. Coconut. Everyone knew you were super allergic to it, couldn't even eat anything made in the same factory as coconut products.

"Hm, I wonder if you would like the taste of this?" Keiho took a sip before looking at the label on the bottle and she let go of your hair just long enough to let Eiko take over.

"Wait, Keiho-" Mianyu stood then, trying to go forward. Before she could get very far though, Jinyu grabbed her wrist, halting her. No one but you seemed to notice Gyuri slip away from the group and out the door. You prayed she was going to get help. Your heart was pounding, you were scared, legitimately. This wasn't a joke, not a game anymore. They were seriously out to hurt you. Keiho swirled the bottle a bit, and let it tip slightly, a drop falling from the mouth and landing on your cheek. It didn't take any more than five seconds for your skin to start itching, and the girls around you could see the skin already starting to redden, following the path of the drop before it landed on the floor. You tried to wiggle free at that point, out of Eiko's grip, but the final Sakura, Yumi, sat behind you in the chair, holding you in place. She giggled, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Should I tell them about Kun?" Her voice was so soft you almost didn't hear her. You froze then, eyes wide, looking toward Jingxian.

"She knows too, you know." Yumi whispered and then you saw the other woman smirk. The other girl still didn't let Mianyu go and help you. Aikiro kneeled then, joining Yumi in restraining you, her hand going to your face and pressing on your cheeks to force your mouth open. A tear fell from your eye, and you tried to shout, but Eiko's hand left your hair and landed on your throat. Not enough to cut off your air, but in just the right spot to silence you. Keiho swirled the drink again and was just about to tip it again, but she hesitated. Why? Your eyes met hers and she seemed to realize how bad it would be to do what she wanted, seeing the raising red welt on your face from just a drop. It wasn't like your tongue and throat would slowly swell shut, it could shut your body down faster than anyone could get help.

"Don't be a fucking coward." Jingxian snapped, slamming her wine glass down onto the side table so hard it sloshed from the glass. She snatched the bottle from Keiho, and she tipped it-

The sliding door slammed open, the loud noise startling her. The girls all looked in horror at the door, and you watched in terror as the bottle fell from her hand, the alcohol splashing onto you, and a swig or two fell into your still open mouth. You choked, trying to spit the liquid out, your mouth already burning, and the girls let you go as Yuta stormed into the room and straight to you.

"Hiyomi!" You spat more out, nearly tempted to force yourself to throw up…if you even could. Your mouth and face burned, your skin and eyes itched, and tears fell from your eyes as your head grew foggy. You were already wheezing, and Yuta was at your side immediately. A second person landed on your other side.

"Sit her up." You let Yuta move you, slumping back into him and watching blearily as the nurse brought the EpiPen down and injected the medicine into your thigh. You felt some relief at the moment, and you grew tired quickly but your breathing was still shallow. The nurse went ahead and injected the second shot and your body seemed to get enough relief that it wanted rest then.

"Hiyomi!" A third voice hit your ears and you blearily looked to see someone else dash in, heading for you as you fell unconscious.

 ~*~*~

You awoke to the sound of beeping, and distant voices. You blinked to clear your vision and it was clear you were in a hospital. You cringed, looking down at the IV in your arm…You really preferred it in your hand. You felt like you couldn’t bend your arm, and they had put it on your dominant side to boot. Groaning, you adjusted in the bed, your body and head felt heavy. The voices got louder; you could recognize one was Yuta's.

"They did it on purpose, everyone knows how allergic she is to coconut."

"I'm not saying what they did wasn't bad, but are you really okay with getting rid of your entire harem but Hiyomi?" It was another man, a voice you only ever heard in person once. It was the King.

"Father, if I had to pick only one wife, ever, it would be her. She was going to be my main wife anyway. I think having five of them is ridiculous anyway."

"Yuta-"

"I'm not the heir, anyway, so why does it matter?" You didn't hear a response if there was one.

"What about Jingxian and Jinyu?" Jinyu? She was there, but she hadn't done anything that you remembered.

"Get rid of them." Kun's voice was clear. And sharp.

"Didn't you tell me Jingxian was most likely your choice?"

"Not anymore."

"Jinyu too, then?"

"Wasn't it her idea?" Silence.

"Yuta, did what those six tell you not matter?"

"What?" Kun asked then, confused. You strained to hear Yuta's response.

"Yumi. She…she told me that Hiyomi likes you." Finally, your prince spoke. You heard the beeping of your heart monitor increase and felt it in your chest.

"Your highness, I found it!" A maid's voice joined, and you furrowed your brow, listening.

"There's a lock on it." What?

"Just snap it off." Your mouth went dry. Your journal. How'd she know about it? You were more than careful. Or so you thought.

"Did Miss Janyeon have the key to her lock box?"

"Yessir." Fuck. But, if the King requested, it wasn't like she could refuse. That was it. You were out. At least you didn't die.

"I knew all this." Yuta's soft voice was loud in your ears and your breath hitched. What?

"You did?" Kun and the King asked at the same time.

"She's careful. But I know her too well by this point."

"Why didn't you say anything?" the King prompted.

"She was mine, that's all I cared about. It was selfish, but… It is a bit worse than I thought." Yuta huffed.

"What do you want to do, Kun?" Their father moved on.

"It's up to her." It was hard to read his tone, and even in the other room, you could feel the tension rise just by the lack of response from Yuta.

"She's mine." His tone was harsh, you had only heard him angry one other time. Right before you passed out. It felt like minutes of silence passed.

"If that's what she wants." Kun spoke finally.

"I think we owe her a decision, since she went through such an ordeal. It’s impressive she kept it hidden so well, and didn't ever act on it, or act out against the other girls. I might not be around much, but your mothers are, and they tell me everything. She's brave and strong for all the shit the other girls put her through. For now, let's keep it hidden we all know, let her choose her next actions without interference. If she chooses Kun, what will you do Yuta?"

"If you love something, you gotta learn to let it go." His defeated tone made your throat clench. You didn't want to hurt him, you really cared for Yuta. You also knew that your feelings for Kun were borderline insane, if not straight-out irrational. It was infatuation, you weren't allowed to get close enough to him to call it love. You were starting to realize then, that it was probably Yuta's doing. Especially if he knew. Maybe that was why he kept you at his side if the others were around, you thought it might be to protect you from the other girls…

"That's a lot different than what you said three years ago."

"Fuck off."

"Yuta, if you allow her to choose Kun instead, you won't have anyone. It would look bad on me." their father pressed.

"If she leaves me, I'll abdicate." You gasped at that. Yuta was second born, even if he wasn't the crown prince, he was closer to the throne than anyone else. He was right after Taeyong, which would put him in a high position when the eldest became King.

"Yuta-"

"If Kun ditches his girls. If Hiyomi chooses you, you can only have her. She deserves the world, and you better fucking give it to her." You closed your eyes, a tear leaving your eye as you made your own decision. No matter how desperately you had wanted Kun the last four years, Yuta was willing to risk everything for you. You couldn't let him do that.

"Would it look bad for the third-born to have one wife?" Kun asked then and you clenched your jaw, the beeping on the machine picking up. You glanced at it, not sure how to read the numbers, worried if you got any more emotional it would set it off.

"I'm going to tell you boys something that no one else can know. Doyoung already requested that he only marry Gyuri. He's tired of dealing with the girls' drama. Ten doesn't care much for an actual marriage to anyone. Taeyong is willing to have the harem if he's king, since it was the deal for the imperial alliance. He already chose Sooyoung to be the crown princess. I remember when I was your age, all of the crap the girls did to each other, the backstabbing, the gossip. The only girl I've seen that hasn't played into any of it was Hiyomi. Even your mothers love her. If she chose Yuta, what would you do Kun?" More silence.

"If that's what she wants-"

"What the fuck do you want?" Yuta spat.

"Honestly? I want to take her from you. I have for years. I know you said, father, to let her decide without us interfering, but… I'm not going to just sit by." The King sighed so hard that you heard it, your head was spinning trying to process everything.

"If she feels safe with it, I want to bring those six to her. Make them apologize. Hiyomi can decide if they will simply be expelled or if she wants to press charges legally." Your mind ran rampant in that moment. The king was letting you decide? All of your hurt and anger, resentment, jealousy; everything bubbled inside.

"I will have someone speak to Mianyu and Lumei as well. I have a hard time believing they had no part to play, or at least that they didn't know." The king finished and the conversation died, and you assumed they left. A door opened and you realized they had been in the room next door, sharing the wall that was behind your head. Your own door started to open, and you partially shut your eyes, pretending that you just woke up.

"Miss Hiyomi?" A woman spoke a nurse entered, with Yuta behind her. No one else.

"Yes?" You opened your eyes more, continuing the act.

"Do you know where you are?"

"The hospital." You hadn’t hit your head, why wouldn’t you know?

"It was good the nurse had those EpiPens ready, you had a very quick and severe reaction. We're going to keep you here overnight and if all is good, you can go back tomorrow." The nurse smiled and then left after taking note of your vitals, leaving you with Yuta. He sat in the chair next to your bedside, taking your hand in his.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like crap." You admitted and he couldn't help but sigh with a defeated smile.

"I would think. Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Could I have some water first?"

"Oh!" He got up and went to get what you requested, probably from a vending machine or something. You hated tap water… Yuta returned, and he helped you sit the bed up more as you took a swig from the bottle. You noticed his brow furrow, and his thumb rubbed over your cheek, it must have been a bit red still.

"What happened, (Y/N)?" You nearly choked, luckily you hadn't taken a sip.

"W-what?"

"(Y/N)." He reiterated and you closed the bottle, lip quivering a bit. It had been so long since you heard that name…

"I didn't know you knew my real name." you whispered.

"I shouldn't. But I asked." You had a hard time meeting his eye, so you just rested back, eyes closed.

"I was stupid. I was just reading, and they invited me over to play truth or dare." You huffed in annoyance, "I was suspicious immediately, but I went along with it. I…" You didn't want him to know you heard their conversation, or that you knew he knew about your feelings for Kun.

"I hadn't even been picked, but Lumei asked Aikiro about…about Jungwoo and Mark." You finally looked at him and he nodded, realization painting over his worried expression.

"It was clear that only I get the…privilege." You weren’t sure what else to call it.

"Aikiro got pissed and so she dumped her wine on me. Eiko dumped her cocktail on me and they with Yumi held me while Keiho threatened to make me drink her pina colada." His brow instantly furrowed, anger clearly taking over. But he was the quiet, scary angry type.

"Keiho hesitated, so Jingxian grabbed it from her and decided to do it herself…" You shivered a bit, feeling angry yourself. You never felt so mad. Sad, upset, hurt, frustrated? Yes. Not anger, not the rage you felt taking over.

"What about Jinyu?"

"Jinyu?" You played along. Yuta sighed.

"Apparently it was her idea. We decided that those six need to go. Father wants them to apologize first. He said it was up to you if they get expelled or if you want to get the police involved." You knew all of that already, but you were able to put on a bewildered expression.

"I can decide?" Your prince didn't say anything, and you wondered if he was thinking about his willingness to let you decide about him, or Kun.

"Yes, of course."

"What…what about you and them?" He didn't look at you and you wondered how he would word what you already knew.

"I only need you." He told you softly and you tried to hide your wince.

"Will you meet with them? You don't have to."

"No, I want to hear them apologize. And I want to tell them they're expelled. And I want to press charges." You turned your determined gaze to Yuta; he had never seen you look so harsh. But it made him smile.

"Good."

~*~*~

The doctors determined you were good to be discharged the next day and when you got back to the Sakuras’ dorm, it didn't look any different. You then remembered you wanted to be the one to tell them they were expelled, so you got to. The rest of them weren't in there, but there were maids scurrying about in their bedrooms, packing up their stuff.

"Hiyomi!" You turned as the head handmaiden came in and her hands went to your face, looking you over.

"You poor child." She sighed after you told her in detail what you went through.

"I'm sorry I had to help them find your diary." She pulled the journal out of the top of her hanbok, the lock had been broken off.

"It's okay." You took it from her, "did you look at it?"

"No, child. I know how to respect someone's privacy." You nodded in thanks, and she left to attend to other duties and so you entered your own room. Nothing had been touched, at least it seemed that way, but you still checked. Finding everything was in line, you got changed into something a bit more formal for the rest of the day. Looking in the mirror, you put on the brown and black plaid jacket that matched your skirt. Adding the beret of the same pattern, you pulled it further back, then readjusted your thigh-high socks. After, since you had about an hour to kill before you were supposed to confront the girls, you rummaged through your things. Many of your nicer accessories and little trinkets were from Yuta. Your mind went back to the conversation you had overhead nearly three years prior. Plucking the familiar book off your shelf, you looked over it, the spine was wrinkled from many read-throughs and the signature was in a slightly different spot than the original. It was your favorite book, and it made sense why Jingxian targeted it, but how did she know? Probably Eiko… You then looked at your leather satchel, you used it constantly, and you had nearly forgotten that apparently, Yuta hadn't got it for you. Did Kun really get it instead? Or did he suggest it? Get it for Yuta to give you? You didn't know. The other little gifts started to leave a sour taste in your mouth, making you wonder if he had lied about any of the rest. Your glass paperweight in the shape of a cat went missing, and supposedly a maid found it in your laundry, so he brought it back. A set of manga you liked had a limited edition only sold in Japan that he got for your birthday. But…he hadn't been in Japan when they were on sale. Kun had been though. Letting your thoughts loop into the negative, you gathered all of your gifts, minus the bag, and piled them on your desk. The bag was a practical item, so it was allowed some grace, but you wanted to ditch the rest for some reason. Why did you feel so mad at Yuta? It wasn't like he did anything wrong, technically, he just continued to act like he didn't know about your feelings for his half-brother.

"Lady Hiyomi?" A soft voice called after a knock on your door. A younger maid had come to escort you to a sitting room where you were to meet with the girls. Swallowing the few nerves you had, surprisingly, you followed after her and entered the room. It was empty, no one else was there-

"(Y/N)." You startled, only noticing Kun as you got further into the room. He was sitting on the couch under a window, and you wondered why Yuta wasn't there. He looked gorgeous as always; his hair dyed a dirty blonde and slightly wavy, and he had on a navy and white letterman jacket.

"(Y/N)?" If Yuta wasn't supposed to know your real name, how did Kun? That didn't matter, you were there with him, alone. And he was coming toward you. That's when you got nervous, and you gripped your hands together to hide their quaking.

"Yuta told me. I…I needed to show you something before everyone else gets here." He pulled his phone from his back pocket, and you glanced up at his face to see his clearly upset expression. He tapped on the device, and you heard an audio recording start.

"Can you help me or not?"

Yuta?

"I can, but what's in it for me?"

Was that…Jinyu?

"I'll make it so you can leave. Get out of here." "What do you want me to do?" "Come up with the plan yourself but figure out a way for the other four Sakuras to get expelled." "Can't you do it yourself?" "Not without a reason. Public image and shit. I really don't care about the rest of them, I just want Hiyomi. Can you do it?" "Probably. You wanted me to drag Jingxian too, right?" "Please. She's gotten on my last fucking nerve. She has to know about Hiyomi and Kun, why else would she be such a bitch?" "I know that's it. What was the last thing she did again?" "Something petty, poured bleach on her favorite dress. I got her a new one and she didn't even notice, but…" "How many things have you replaced?" "Like seventeen or something crazy. Those are just the ones she doesn't know I did, too." "You know, if you weren't my cousin, I wouldn't do this." "Bullshit, you know that's not why. We're only second cousins." "I'm serious, Yuta. I couldn't care less about the others." "Even Kun?" "Kind of hard to like your future husband when you're a lesbian."

It was clear there was more to the recording, but he cut it off. You were silent for some time, trying to process everything you just heard. You stumbled and Kun quickly pocketed his phone and reached out to stabilize you, then led you to the couch.

"Did…did Yuta know what the plan was?"

"I doubt it. But…it still was partly because of him." You slumped against the back cushion, resting your cheek on it, mind swirling. Your hat fell from its place, and you just pulled it all the way off.

"W-what do you make of it?" You needed more information; your emotions were so turbulent you couldn't even decide for yourself what to feel.

"Well…I know Jingxian was such a bitch because I like you." He just straight out admitted it and your body froze, your default response. He must have noticed the jolt you gave as your body stiffened and his hand went to your chin, prompting you to look up at him. Being so close to him, it took your breath away, he was even more stunning up close. And his eyes were so gentle and warm, not the same sharp heat you normally got from Yuta.

"Honestly, early on I tried to get Yuta to let you go, so I could have you instead, but he refused." Kun sighed, then huffed with dry amusement, "I'll admit I'm a little crazy when it comes to you."

"Birds of a feather…" You mumbled and he let your face go and you just slumped against the couch again.

"You know how Yuta gets you two presents for your birthday?"

"One's from you, huh?" You guessed accurately it seemed.

"How-"

"A few years back, I overhead your friends in the hall. They said that you made Jingxian replace my signed book. I know my bag was from you. Looking at it now, those gifts make a lot more sense. They would be so different from each other. Yuta would get me a pretty set of earrings and a necklace, but then there would be a full book series. Or instead of nice shoes, it would be a galaxy print. The year-long pass to the planetarium?" Kun was more of an intellectual than Yuta for sure, he was the only one of the princes that went to college. That was part of the reason you liked him so much, he was more similar to you than anyone else there. You knew that even with the restricted amount of time you had around each other.

"How did you get that recording?" You asked when it seemed he was struggling to find a response. He glanced up at you, head still bowed, dirty blonde bangs falling over his brow.

"Jinyu sent it to me with a caveat. She made me promise that you wouldn't press charges against her. She doesn't mind the expulsion, would welcome it…"

"Did you know that she was…?"

"Yeah. She told me early on."

"Yes, it was her idea, but… Yuta prompted her, and if you promised her that, I'll respect it." Your expression hardened then, so quickly it made Kun raise his brow in surprise.

"I can't believe him. I know…" You swallowed hard, "I guess he did it because he loves me. Or that might be what he says, but for all this time…" You exhaled hard through your nose, brow furrowing.

"Yes, I want to get back at the girls even past kicking them out, pressing legal charges. They put me through so much shit for so long…And I shouldn't be this mad at Yuta, but… I want to get back at him too." Your last sentence was much quieter, you felt ashamed of your rage toward him, but that recording just bubbled everything over. You looked up then, fully to make eye contact with Kun.

"I just…I don’t know how. Help me?" The other prince hummed, leaning into the back cushion himself, looking pensive.

"I shouldn't be as sadistic as I want…" Your phone alarm went off then, meaning the others would be coming rather soon.

"Think on it, I'll go with what you plan." You told him, standing to adjust your clothes. Stepping over to a mirror, you put your hat back on, fixing your rumpled hair as well. The king was coming too after all. As you primped, Kun stepped up behind you so you could see him in the reflection as well. He wasn't any taller than Yuta, but that did still put him nearly a head taller than you since you weren't in heels. You gasped, watching his arms wrap around you from behind, his cheek pressing against the side of your head. The black fabric of his sleeve smelled amazing, like him of course. Your heart started to beat so hard you were sure he could hear it, maybe even feel it where his chest met your back.

"Tell me, what does Hiyomi mean? Do you know?"

"Something with sunlight and beauty." You had learned Japanese in your training, but that didn't mean you knew name etymology. Yuta had mentioned it before though.

"How do you like Yuhua?" You assumed it was something similar…was he already thinking of picking a different name for you? Honestly, it was the next best after your birthname.

"Perfect." You whispered and nearly whined when he pulled away abruptly, the door opening not even thirty seconds later. Your posture immediately corrected itself, and you bowed your head as the King entered, followed by Yuta, then the six girls were escorted in by a few of the royal guards. Though, they looked more like federal agents…

"Sit." One of them ordered and the clearly dismayed girls followed. There was still evidence of mascara running and their faces were blotchy and red. They weren't in their fancy clothes either, having been dressed in clothes similar to the uniforms worn as trainees. Plain pleated skirts and button ups with a cardigan. For once, you weren't the plainest dressed one in the room, and you felt more smug than angry looking over them.

"Come here, child." The king prompted and you stepped to his side at his prompting, head still bowed to avoid looking at his face. You didn't notice the glare Yuta had sent Kun's way when he realized he had arrived there early. And that he had access to you without your prince being there as well.

"Tell them, Hiyomi." He motioned with his hand, and you turned to face them fully. They were clearly shocked by your cold gaze, and your eyes met Jinyu's. She looked significantly less nervous, and it was clear she was putting on an act.

"Expel them, please, your highness." The five other girls had various reactions, all forced down and if glares could kill, Jingxian would succeed in her mission.

"Of course. Now, you six. Apologize." The King's tone was hard, and the girls shakily stood and moved to face you. They clearly didn't want to do what followed, but they had little choice. They fell slowly to their knees, and bowed low, foreheads on their hands pressed to the floor. You barely registered the clearly scripted words they spoke, and you turned to look over your shoulder at the princes. Your gaze first went to Yuta, and it was clear he had no idea that you knew everything. He gave you his classic smile, but it just pissed you off then. You then looked at Kun and he gave a subtle nod.

"Jinyu can go." You then noted and the King was curious why you only let her go, but he allowed it. He knew there was something unspoken since Jinyu seemed to sag in relief as she left.

"We'll tell them the rest, father. Would you mind leaving us to it?" Kun stepped forward and his father turned to look back at him. They exchanged something unspoken through their gaze.

"Very well." He nodded and he left along with the guards, who stayed stationed outside the door as it closed.

"Hiyomi?" Yuta stepped up closer, but you ignored him, going to where the girls had sat back down. The other Sakuras looked a bit more nervous, but Jingxian was steaming. All of her hard work over the years, desperate to get whatever wealth and power she could, gone. The sneer she shot you pissed you off, hand flying up without thought, smacking her hard enough to snap her head to the side. She just sat there, not looking back at you. Not sure what to say to them, you turned and looked at Kun who was in the same spot, a little behind his slightly older brother. A smug look fell on his face, and he stepped around the other prince, shedding his letterman-style jacket and laying it on the table. You wanted to swoon as he rolled the sleeves of his white button-up, so they bunched above his elbows. Paired with his watch and the ring he had on his index finger, it was so little, but so hot. Yuta must have noticed how your expression changed, recognized it even, but you knew it was different than anything you gave him.

Kun sidled up next to you and he raised a brow, silently asking if you were ready. You nodded so slightly, with a tiny hum and you gasped as his hand grabbed your chin. The move was a bit rough, but your gasp was of delight, not fear or shock. His eyes were still warm, and he had the sexy grin back, your thighs twitched along with your core.

"You know, it’s a shame that only Yuta could get a girl so good." His grip softened, and he cupped your jaw instead. The room was so quiet you could hear Jingxian's jaw clench and made her teeth grind against each other. Kun's face was so close to yours that you felt his breath on your lips.

"Kun, what are you-" Yuta started, coming closer.

"But it's also a shame that she got stuck with him." His tone was incredibly patronizing, derisive and you just took the chance to bask in his presence and attention as he pulled his phone back out, stepping back slightly. He still had the audio clip paused where he left it off before, and you saw then it was half-way through.

"At least you only have to deal with one guy. He also knows. I have to get it up for four other sluts I couldn't care less for."

 The four other Sakuras gasped, and your eyes flicked to look at Kun's phone, but his hand at your jaw turned you back to focus on him. It was hard to get mad with the following audio while looking over him, so close to you. You didn't even care to look and see what Yuta's expression was. He had frozen, just behind his half-brother, almost scared to move.

"Viagra?" "No, I just pretend they're Hiyomi. Hard to do though. Eiko's so fucking annoying and won't shut up. Sounds like a bad porno. Aikiro still doesn't know what the fuck she's doing even after training for a year and more. Yumi has no stamina and is selfish to boot. Keiho-"

Your eyes flicked to the phone again, waiting for him to finish. It seemed he paused to take a drink or something, because the audio kept progressing.

"Keiho is a fraud. She thinks I don't know that she goes to Ten's little orgies or whatever. I know she's slept with half of the guard too."

All the girls looked at Keiho then, her cheeks that were bright red with anger were now horribly pale.

"She acts like she wants stuff vanilla, loving. I know she can only get satisfied with two cocks in her."

Kun shut it off then, only a few seconds left but you had heard enough. How dare he criticize Keiho when he was the one that brought his friends in to fuck you at the same time? Did he think it would be flattering that he only thinks of you when he's with the others?

"Hiyomi-" Yuta tried to start, and you wanted to push around Kun, smack his stupid pretty face. But you trusted the other prince to come up with the best thing he could. He already tore down the girls, that much was obvious from their faces and the devastated looks they sent Yuta.

"Despite his supposed love for you, sweetheart, it’s a shame you don't feel the same." Since it wasn't directed at you, and it would still be incredibly hot if it was, the smug sadistic grin he had riled you up all the more. Kun hummed, prompting you to respond and he chuckled at the dazed look you had.

"No, I don't." It was like he was some kind of drug; your thoughts were foggy, and you needed more of him. He had taken out the girls, they looked like all the fight had been ripped from them, slumped on the couch. It had hit Yuta too, but not enough, not yet. Though, Kun needed to finish Jingxian first.

"Do you know how hard it was for me? From the moment I saw you, I wanted you. The only reason I was going to choose Jingxian was because I hate her. I couldn't live with myself if you weren't my wife, my princess, but I didn't want to hurt the other girls. They didn't deserve the hurt like her. She's a horrible human being and she seemed all the worse compared to you, (Y/N)." Hearing him say your real name again did it, you were head over heels in love with him and you thanked whatever higher being finally graced you with something good. All of the shit you had put up with came to the best moment of your life, knowing Kun wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Even if you both knew it was crazy, even sick; at least you could be lovesick together. The final hit to the girls, hidden from Yuta since Kun blocked you from his sight, was the extremely gentle kiss he pressed to your forehead, followed by him gently brushing his nose over yours.

"Guards, take them to the police." The prince let your chin go, just enough so he could step back so as not to shout in your ear. The door opened and the suits came in, quite literally hauling the girls away, Jingxian now just as broken as the others.

"Only one left." You whispered when Kun came back to you. He shifted where you stood with a hand on your lower back, making you visible to Yuta then.

"Show him you're mine." He told you and it seemed your minds were linked. At graduation, each girl would kneel before the prince and swear their loyalty, almost like being coronated. You sank to your knees, but you looked up at him instead. The normally practiced display of reverence for a girl's monarch was corrupted by the desire you looked at him with, and he you. You were submitting to him as a man, not as a higher-up, nor a prince. He grinned when your hands gripped his belt, not moving to remove it, but the implication was clear-

"You fucker." Yuta shot forward, hand burying in Kun's shirt and yanking him away from you. You flinched back as Kun was pulled away and you quickly stood as the brothers stared each other down.

"You lost, Yuta. Move on, she's mine now. Ready to abdicate?" You flinched back with a gasp, hands covering your mouth as Yuta's fist moved toward his brother's face. Kun deftly moved his head the little bit he had to for the blow to miss.

"Wait!" You tried to weasel your way between them before the elder landed a punch on the younger. Even though they were the same height, Kun was bigger, Yuta had a hard time gaining any kind of bulk and he looked like a twig next to the other prince. While he wasn't the most muscular man you knew, he was outright perfect to you, and it was clear he was strong because Yuta barely budged him with his tug on his shirt, he moved with the pull. That was beside the point… You got back at Yuta, what happened was enough, you could tell by the hurt etched into his face. Your anger had immediately dissipated, a better solution hitting your mind. Neither of them knew you had heard the full conversation the day before, but that didn't change that you had.

"Don't abdicate. You already are losing your harem, but you told Kun to only have me, right?" Both men were clearly shocked that at your words and you took the chance to shove Yuta off, standing in front of Kun, clearly in a show of protection. Like you could really do anything…

"Y-yes." Your prince's voice was soft and rough. He didn't deserve how much you really wanted to wreck him. Your rationality had kicked in, logic taking over, he was already defeated.

"We’ll tell the press that the other four turned against me because I didn't want to be involved with you. Turn it on me. You take the three from Kun, and I go to him. You're second born, you can't just give up those rights-"

"(Y/N), I don't want to be a prince without you as my princess." Your chin quivered a bit at his tone, his eyes glassy.

"And I don't want to be a princess without Kun as my prince." You countered. You needed to break his heart for him to let you go. You didn’t turn to look at the other man even though Yuta's eyes flashed to look over your shoulder.

"Take the other three, add two more from wherever, do whatever. Wouldn't you rather move on and find someone else than love me and know I don't feel the same? If you love something let it go? Do you think I want to be restricted to you, when I love someone else?"

"You love him?" You didn't respond to his question. It wasn't the real definition of love, it wasn't that pure, but you had some twisted loyalty to Kun that you never did for Yuta.

"Do you love me?" You pushed back. You weren't sure, it seemed somewhat like you were a trophy, a luxury item that he might adore, but…

"You're supposed to be mine." He didn't answer the question. Not directly.

"You don't love me, I’m just your favorite. You liked that I didn't fight the other girls tooth and nail just to get your attention. You liked the challenge. If you really cared you would have told me all the shit that Jingxian did, and the others, I'm sure. You never even bothered to learn who I was, getting me pretty, girly things. You played up the romance but never did anything I liked with me. I might have been in your bed the most, but I wasn't in your heart."

"And you were in Kun's?" Yuta nearly spat, not trying to defend himself, because you were right.

"What's her favorite thing?" The man behind you cut in and you turned to look at him. You didn't answer, genuinely curious if Yuta knew, because he never acted on it…

"Books."

"Wrong. Space. She goes out at night to watch the stars. All her books are science-fiction. Her favorite sweatshirt is of the milky way and if there's ever a special event at the planetarium, she's there." How did he know all of that? The other prince was silent, clearly not sure what to do or say next. His eyes went back to you, and you couldn't meet his look, and stepped closer to Kun.

"Favorite animal?" Kun continued.

"Dogs-"

"Goats. She just can't have one as a pet, she asked. The keychain on her bag is a goat. So is the plushie she takes with her on out-of-country flights. She tells people she likes dogs because it's more accepted.”

"Her favorite color is dark purple because it looks like the night sky. She loves snow but hates rain. She's the only girl fluent in all four languages. She hates moths and loves fireflies." He kept going and you wondered how he knew all that. Though…it was all things that were more or less common knowledge, things your friends knew. It wasn't creepy, just observant, and it should be things Yuta knew. But, based on his face, he really didn't.

"He loves planes. He took lessons to learn to fly one. He loves cats but doesn't have one because Lumei is allergic. He wears a lot of black and white, but he always uses a blue pen because he likes blue too. He hates cold weather; he knows how to cook, and he even is scared of butterflies." You smiled softly, realizing all the things he knew about you, you pretty much knew about him as well. It was things you overheard while near him or figured out by watching him from afar. After an uncomfortable silence, you finally looked up to meet Yuta's gaze.

"I'll go talk to father. I'll… if you ever break her heart, I'll fucking kill you." The prince exhaled, seeming to get some kind of closure and he stepped closer, reaching for you. Midway though, his hand stopped, and his eyes flicked to the side, at your earrings.

"They're moons." He noticed.

"Yes." Your voice was quiet, and the prince dropped his hand, cast one more look to his brother, and left. Watching him go was…a relief. You thought you might feel something else, be a little sad, or hurt, but you just felt at ease. As you turned to face Kun once more, he was already there, his hands at your jaw and he pulled you to him, kissing you so hard your teeth clashed against his. The force of him pulling you into him knocked your hat off, falling to the floor. You whimpered, hands holding his wrists as you try to meet his fervor. Your butt hit the table when he turned you with his leg wedging between yours. One hand left your jaw to cup the back of your head, blunt nails scratching your scalp. The other hand found its way to your waist, then his arm snaked around your middle, helping you up to sit on the table. Kun finally pulled away, both of you panting and your dazed eyes met his sharp ones.

"Fuck." He sighed, leaning forward and resting his forehead on your shoulder. His hands rested on the table, holding him up so he didn't rest his full weight on you, and he stood there for a while. You pressed your cheek to his soft hair, basking in him finally being so close to you. Slowly, you brought your arms up, shaking, and wrapped them around his shoulders. The hug was quickly returned, Kun enveloping you back, and you pressed your face into his chest. With your ear over his heart, you closed your eyes, listening to it beat, soaking in the scent of his cologne. Neither of you really wanted to pull back, but never-the-less did so. He took your hands in his, bringing them up so he could kiss them.

"I need to talk to father as well, sweetheart," his hand cupped your cheek, thumb rubbing your soft skin, "wait for me."

Due to formalities and legalities, you weren't Kun's right away. Because of all the rules, you both were moved into a guest house more or less, still on the royal campus, but not one of the official palaces. You had to wait for nearly a week as the ministers convened, trying to figure out what the hell to do. Taeyong remained the heir and was the only one that kept the harem as promised. Yuta didn't abdicate, but he didn't rebuild his harem either. He ended up moving to Japan then, becoming the ambassador for that part of the empire. Kun adopted most of his roles and rights, and it was well received by the public that he wanted to marry for love instead. He wasn't the heir, so the ministers didn't mind too much. Ten had some of his privileges revoked when it was revealed how debaucherously he was living, but he didn't mind. Doyoung too gave up his harem, minus Gyuri. A lot of things changed fast, but it was welcome. Finally, once everything was official, you stood in the middle of the foyer of your new home, watching people mill about as they moved the final things in. Looking around, you startled when someone snuck up behind you, hugging you.

"It's done, sweetheart." Kun nuzzled behind your ear, and you bit your lip, giggling.

"Once everyone leaves, I'm going to take you, since your mine now."

Part 2: Up Close (Smut)

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