#The Spy Who Went Into the Cold

[fauvester]

Lim wondering if this is how yadek felt in the obsidian order when disposing of the regnars before refusing to draw any parallels between himself and garak for another decade

WAKHDJKDHFKJH years later lim confessing to julian about his crime and resulting dIsplay of adolescent psychopathology and julians like. That's so funny, that's EXACTLY what garak said about all the assassinations. And lim Realizes

[surielstea]

Undercover Affection

Based on a request!

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: While on a mission with Azriel, you must pretend to be a couple. During which it’s revealed that Azriel and you are mated.

Warnings: none (that I know of)

A.Note: After a month of ghosting you guys I’m finally back!! And with a fic I’m very proud of so I hope you guys enjoy!!

7.9k word count.

The instructions had been simple enough: "Blend in, gather information, and avoid getting caught." But for some reason, Rhysand had thought it necessary to throw in an extra condition—one Azriel seemed to want to claw his way out of.

"I work alone." The shadow singer gritted through his teeth, shadows billowing over his impressively sized wings.

"Not for this mission, you won't." The High Lord immediately dismisses him, not batting an eye at the male who perhaps every other fae in Prythian was terrified of.

"She's not ready, she'll be a distraction." Azriel counters. A foreign part of you panged with disappointment at that. Did he really find you so incompetent?

Rhys argues back immediately, his anger beginning to ramp up to meet Azriel's and you quickly decide you didn't want to be anywhere near when they collided. "You told me yourself just last week she's the best spy you've ever trained."

Your eyebrows lift a fraction at what Rhys had unconsciously confessed, the barest reaction but enough for the shadow singer to pick up on. His hazel eyes flicked to your own gaze, then back to Rhysand's.

They seemed to be having a conversation, one you couldn't hear. You doubted you'd ever get used to that, the way Rhys could slip into someone's mind—even someone as guarded as Azriel. A shiver went down your spine as you thought about the power of the High Lord of Night.

"You have to be out of your mind if you think I'll ever put her in that kind of danger." Azriel seethed to his brother through the mental connection, unable to even fathom the idea of you having a target on your back.

"She may be your mate but she is also your disciple, did you seriously think she'd never go out into the field?" Rhys could sense his anger, feel it ebbing against a shield that was thinning.

"I only taught her spy work so she'd know how to protect herself—never to put her in harm's way," Azriel says, his frustration making his voice sound almost pleading.

"Then you know she can protect herself. You will be beside her every step of the way, what she wants to do is entirely her decision." Rhys remarks.

"And what if the bond snaps? It could jeopardize the mission—much more, her safety." Azriel poses, the scenario would make all hell break loose in all situations.

"Are you implying you can't keep her safe?" Rhys taunts, the words finding their mark in the Spy Masters head.

You watch their expressions closely, attempting to pick up on what they were saying but the only reaction you could spot was the way Azriel's jaw feathered as he pushed off Rhysand's desk and turned to me.

"Do you think you're ready for this?" There was a certain softness in his eyes you only got rare glimpses of, the sight making you swallow hard.

Your throat felt tight, but you straightened your shoulders and lifted your chin. "I am." Your voice didn't waver, though the intensity of his hazel eyes made it a near thing.

Rhys sighed, leaning back in his chair as he surveyed you both with a calculating air. The quiet smile tugging at his lips felt almost dangerous like he already knew the outcome of a game you hadn't even realized you were playing.

"The ball," he began, voice smooth, "is being hosted by High Fae whose loyalty to Prythian is questionable at best. Whispers suggest they're courting alliances with forces hostile to Velaris. If true, this could be the first move toward rebellion."

He slid a detailed sketch across the desk. The male's sharp features and cold, calculating eyes etched into the paper made your stomach tighten. Rhys's voice remained steady as he continued. "Kaieel is the orchestrator. We need names, allies, plans—anything we can use to dismantle his efforts before they gain traction. The masks and secrecy of the event work in our favor. You'll attend, blend in with the crowd, and leave no trace of your presence."

"And our cover?" you asked, though you weren't sure you wanted the answer.

Rhys's lips twitched. "Newlyweds."

The single word hit you like a jolt of lightning. Your heart stumbled, catching somewhere between shock and disbelief. "A couple?" you uttered, trying to keep your voice even.

"A young pair enamored with each other and blissfully distracted. The perfect cover." Rhys's eyes sparkled with mirth, though his tone was all business. "An unattached male draws suspicion. A pair in love does not."

Azriel didn't react outwardly, but his silence spoke volumes. You risked a glance at him, finding his gaze fixed somewhere distant. Was the idea truly so unbearable to him?

"The priority," Rhys continued, "is information. If your cover is compromised, you extract yourselves immediately. But until then, you'll need to act the part—dancing, whispering... perhaps even a kiss or two, if the situation calls for it."

"Rhys," Azriel growled, low and lethal.

Rhys only smirked, clearly enjoying his brother's discomfort. "Relax, Az. You might even have fun. Any questions?"

You shook your head, pulse hammering. The mission was simple in theory, but with Azriel by your side—close enough to feel his warmth, to brush against the bond neither of you had spoken of—it felt like you were stepping into something far more dangerous than a ballroom full of enemies.

"Good," Rhys said, dismissing you both with a wave. "You leave at dusk."

Azriel turned abruptly, the tension in his wings a visible reminder of the storm brewing within him. As he stalked toward the door, you followed, already bracing yourself for the days to come.

Whatever lay ahead, one thing was clear: the mission wouldn't just test your skills as a spy—it would test every fragile boundary you and Azriel had built between the two of you.

—

You smoothed your hands down the fabric of your gown, the soft, luxurious material clinging perfectly to your frame before pooling at your feet. It was a deep shade of midnight grey, almost black, designed to shimmer as if it were the color of the moon itself, glimmering silver in the right lighting. The neckline dipped just enough to be daring without crossing into scandalous, and the fitted bodice accentuated every curve. The gown was a far cry from the shadowy leathers you had grown accustomed to during training.

Your fingers brushed over the mask lying on the vanity before you. It was delicate, intricate silver filigree adorned with tiny crystals that caught the light to match my dress. The sight of it alone made your stomach twist with nerves, though you refused to let the feeling take hold. You were a spy, not some jittery debutante.

Focus.

Your gaze shifted to the mirror as you adjusted the gown again, letting out a slow breath. The transformation was undeniable; the person staring back at you looked like they belonged at this kind of event. For a moment, you barely recognized yourself, and that unfamiliarity was almost reassuring. If you didn't recognize yourself, maybe no one else would either.

The soft knock at the door startled you. You turned, calling out, "Come in."

The door creaked open, and Azriel stepped inside, closing it behind him with deliberate care.

Your breath was stolen from your lungs at the sight of the Shadow Singer.

He wore an all-black suit that looked as though it had been tailored specifically for him—and knowing the resources of the Night Court, it probably had. The sharp lines of the jacket emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, and the subtle sheen of the fabric only added to the air of elegance that clung to him. His wings were glamoured away, leaving no trace of their presence—which was upsetting, but it was his eyes that made up for it—those piercing hazel eyes, framed by long lashes that truly captured your attention. They swept over you in a single, assessing glance, and you swore you caught the faintest flicker of surprise before his features smoothed into their usual calm.

"You look..." His voice trailed off, and for once, he seemed at a loss for words.

"Like I'm about to infiltrate a ball filled with potential traitors to Velaris?" you offered lightly, trying to break the tension that had settled in the room.

"I was going to say beautiful, but that works too," he said simply, his voice low and even. The words sent a strange warmth curling through your chest, though you quickly buried it.

Azriel crossed the room, the measured grace of his movements a reminder of the lethal precision he carried with him always. He stopped just in front of you, holding out his hand. "Your mask."

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before handing it to him. His gloved fingers brushed against yours as he took it, and you were acutely aware of how close he was as he moved behind you.

The brush of his knuckles against your temple sent a shiver down your spine as he adjusted the mask, tying the soft ribbons at the back of your head with deft fingers. His scent—night-chilled mist and cedar—wrapped around you, a quiet distraction that made it hard to focus.

"There," he murmured, adjusting your hair around the ribbon before stepping back just enough for you to turn and face him. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and you wondered if he could sense the way your pulse quickened.

"You clean up well," you said, tilting your head slightly. "Almost didn't recognize you without all the shadows."

He raised a brow, a hint of amusement flickering across his face. "You'll have to forgive me for not returning the compliment."

Your lips twitched. "And why's that?"

"Because if I did, we'd be here all night," he replied smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a rare, fleeting smile.

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected flirtation. Azriel's humor was subtle, almost elusive, but when it surfaced, it always left you reeling.

Before you could find a response, you remembered the last detail. "Oh, wait." You turned back to the vanity, retrieving the small box you'd nearly forgotten. Inside were two rings—simple, elegant bands meant to complete your cover as a married couple.

You slipped one onto your finger, the cool metal fitting perfectly, the sapphire stone placed atop it glimmering in the sunsetting light. You hold out the other to him. "Rhys gave them to me, for authenticity," you said, keeping your tone light despite the awkwardness that had crept into the air.

Azriel's gaze dropped to the ring in your hand, his expression unreadable as he took it. For a moment, you thought he might protest, but instead, he slid it onto his finger with careful precision.

He slipped it onto his finger without breaking eye contact, the deliberate slowness of the action making your heart race. "There," he said, holding his hand up to examine the ring. "How do I look as your doting husband?"

You took a step back, pretending to assess him with a critical eye. "Hmm, you'll pass—just barely. Try smiling a little more. You're supposed to be madly in love with me, remember?"

Azriel leaned in slightly, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement. "If I smile too much, they'll think I've lost my mind."

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. "Fair enough."

He reached out then, his hand brushing yours as he straightened an imaginary crease in the sleeve of your gown. The touch was fleeting but enough to send warmth creeping up your neck. When he pulled back, the air between you was thick with unspoken tension.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice soft but steady.

You nodded, grabbing the silver clutch from the vanity and looping it over your wrist. "As I'll ever be."

Azriel extended his arm, a rare gesture that made your lips twitch in surprise. "Shall we, gorgeous?" he teased, his tone low and smooth.

You slid your hand through the crook of his arm, matching his smirk with one of your own. "Lead the way, handsome." Whatever this mission had in store, it was clear the most dangerous thing you'd face tonight wasn't Kaieel or his allies. It was Azriel—and the way he made you feel.

—

The ballroom glittered like a scene from a dream, opulent and indulgent in every detail. Chandeliers sparkled with a thousand lights overhead, their glow casting a soft radiance across the sea of masked figures swirling on the marble floor. The air buzzed with muted conversations, laughter, and the soft strains of a symphony playing in the background.

Your arm was looped through Azriel's, his warmth bleeding into you even through the layers of your gown and his tailored suit. He guided you into the crowd with an ease that belied his tension, his hazel eyes scanning every face, every shadow, every corner.

"Stay close," he murmured, the words just for you, his breath brushing against your temple. His voice, low and commanding, sent a shiver down your spine, though you quickly disguised it as a nod of agreement.

"Hard to get closer than this," you quipped softly, unable to resist. You felt him stiffen slightly under your hand, his wings—glamoured away but somehow still present in your mind—practically bristling with restrained energy.

He didn't respond, but the faintest curve of his lips betrayed him. If it weren't for the mask obscuring part of his face, you might have caught the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Instead, his focus shifted, scanning the room until it landed on your target.

Kaieel stood near the far edge of the room, his tall frame commanding attention even in this crowd of nobles. His mask, dark and menacing, covered much of his face, but his icy blue eyes gleamed through the filigree, sharp and calculating. A small circle of sycophants surrounded him, laughing too loudly at his every word. He raised a crystal flute to his lips, sipping lazily as though the fate of Prythian wasn't potentially hanging on his next move.

"Eyes on Kaieel," Azriel murmured, tilting his head just enough for his words to reach you. "But keep it subtle. The last thing we want is him noticing our interest too early."

"Subtlety is my specialty," you whispered back, earning a flick of his gaze, though he said nothing. His grip on your hand tightened as he steered you toward the dance floor.

Before you could question him, Azriel pivoted smoothly, releasing your arm only to catch your hand and pull you into a waltz. The sudden movement startled you, your other hand landing instinctively on his shoulder as he spun you into the rhythm of the music.

"A dance?" you asked, arching a brow as you tried to ignore the way his hand settled on your waist, firm but not overbearing.

"Blending in," he replied simply, though the set of his jaw betrayed the faintest hint of awkwardness. "Everyone else is dancing. And from here, we have a better view of Kaieel."

You followed his lead, your feet moving in time with his despite the distraction of his proximity. The bond hummed faintly at the back of your mind, an awareness you fought to suppress as you focused on the task at hand. His scent—cedar and chilled mist—wrapped around you, grounding and maddening all at once.

"So," you ventured, your voice low, "do we just stare at him all night, or do we actually have a plan?"

Azriel's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile. "Patience. Kaieel will make his move eventually. Until then, we observe."

"Observation is all well and good," you said, your tone light despite the weight of the moment, "but what if he decides to slip away before we get what we need?"

"He won't," Azriel replied, his confidence a quiet anchor in the storm of your nerves. "He's too arrogant to think anyone here is a threat to him."

You were about to respond when Kaieel's laugh cut through the music, sharp and derisive. Your gaze flicked toward him in time to see him gesture grandly to his circle, drawing their attention—and yours. The words he spoke were lost in the distance, but the smug tilt of his head and the pointed glance he cast toward a cloaked figure in the corner sent a chill down your spine.

"Did you see that?" you murmured, tilting your head subtly toward Kaieel.

Azriel's grip on your waist tightened imperceptibly. "I saw. He's signaling someone."

Your next step faltered, and Azriel steadied you instantly, his hand at your back pressing you closer. "Careful," he murmured, his voice low enough to send a shiver through you. "If you trip, they'll notice."

"Noted," you said, your cheeks warming despite yourself. You tilted your head again, pretending to focus on him as you spoke. "The cloaked figure in the corner. Could be a contact."

"Could be," Azriel agreed, his hazel eyes flicking toward the figure in question. "But we won't know for sure until we get closer."

"And how do you propose we do that without drawing attention?" you asked, trying to ignore the way his hand seemed to linger on your back, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your gown in a way that felt almost deliberate.

Azriel's lips curved into a smirk, subtle but unmistakable. "Leave that to me."

Before you could question him further, the song ended, and he stepped back, bowing slightly as he offered you his arm again. You accepted it, allowing him to guide you off the dance floor and toward the far side of the room. Kaieel's attention was still focused on his circle, oblivious to your approach.

Azriel leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "We'll circle the room, make small talk, and get close enough to overhear. Follow my lead."

"Always," you replied softly, the word slipping out before you could stop it. Azriel's gaze snapped to yours, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, but he said nothing as he led you deeper into the crowd.

The mission demanded your focus, but with Azriel at your side, his presence steady and unyielding, you couldn't help but wonder if the real danger tonight wasn't the secrets hidden in this ballroom—but the ones you carried in your heart.

You move through the ballroom like smoke, seamlessly blending with the opulent crowd. Strangers smile at you—glittering masks of civility over a sea of intentions. They don't need to know who you are; your presence, the confident tilt of your chin, and the luxury of your attire tell them enough. Wealth recognizes power, even in passing.

When you wave at a woman standing beside Kaieel, she returns the gesture, though her eyes narrow ever so slightly, a flicker of confusion betraying her effort to place you. Still, she beckons you closer with the smooth grace of someone accustomed to command.

"Lady Reven," Azriel murmurs in your ear, his voice as soft and deliberate as the shadows that cling to him. "Ex-wife of Kaieel. The hostess of tonight's spectacle."

"She invited her ex-husband?" you ask under your breath, your smile unwavering despite the furrow of your brows.

"He's funding it," Azriel replies, his golden eyes scanning the room. "This way, he and his associates can conspire without his name attached. If the plot unravels—"

"She takes the fall," you finish, your mind catching up to the threads he's weaving.

"Precisely," he says with a wry twist of his lips. Then, with a pointed glance at Lady Reven, he adds, "And she, my love, is your key to him."

Your heart stumbles at his phrasing. Your key? You open your mouth to protest, but he silences you with a slight tilt of his head. "I won't be far," he assures you, his voice a soft promise. And then, as if sensing your doubt, the cool, silken pressure of shadows winds beneath your dress, curling around your thigh like an unspoken vow. The sensation is enough to make your knees threaten to buckle.

"What do I even say to her?" you whisper, frowning.

Azriel chuckles, low and teasing. "Have you forgotten all your training already?" The confidence in his tone steadies you. "You'll do just fine. I'll fetch us drinks and join you shortly," he adds, leaning down to press a brief, warm kiss to your temple before vanishing into the crowd like mist.

You force a breath into your lungs and set your shoulders, willing confidence into your stride as you cross the ballroom. The shadows move with you, unseen but ever-present, their cool touch synchronizing with the rhythm of your steps.

As you approach a table laden with crystalline champagne flutes and decadent sweets, your ears tune in to the sharp edges of Lady Reven's voice, drifting from where she speaks to a maid.

"And make sure he leaves alone tonight," she hisses. "He's humiliated me enough in public without dragging some—other female into it."

The maid nods, scurrying off, and you let your gaze fall to the intricately carved edge of the table. The urge to fidget nearly overcomes you before Lady Reven's voice pulls you from the habit.

"I wouldn't bother with the chocolates," she says coolly, stepping closer.

You glance at her, feigning an easy smile. "Good to know." You nod. "I've never been one for sweets anyway, Lady Reven."

Her ruby-red lips curl upward in a knowing smirk. "Have we met?" she asks, her sharp eyes studying you with thinly veiled suspicion.

"Only on paper," you reply smoothly. "My husband works for Kaieel."

Recognition softens her features. "Ah, a friend of Kaieel is a friend of mine," she purrs. "Call me Valenia."

"Of course. Valenia," you echo with a nod, subtly testing the name.

"And where is your husband tonight?" she asks, gesturing vaguely to the glittering crowd.

You tilt your head with a small laugh. "Fetching me something stronger than this champagne," you quip, gesturing towards the burbling fountain of sparkling wine in the center. The honesty surprises her into a laugh of her own.

"Well, I'll have to apologize for the watered-down drinks," she says lightly, her tone dripping with feigned humility.

"No need. This is a stunning event," you counter, gesturing to the ballroom.

A flicker of satisfaction crosses her face. "I think we're alike, you and I," she muses, before looping her arm through yours. "Come. I'll introduce you to Kaieel."

Your pulse quickens as she steers you across the room. You catch Azriel's golden gaze from where he's threading through the crowd, his expression unreadable but his presence grounding.

"I really should wait for my husband," you try, a nervous laugh slipping out. "We've been recently married, couldn't keep him away if I tried." You attempt to excuse.

"Then it'll be easy for him to find us, hm?" Valenia dismisses with a wink, tugging you forward until you're standing before Kaieel himself.

Kaieel was sprawled on a chaise lounge, maids bringing him drinks, butlers feeding him by hand like he was some kind of king. Even Rhys wasn't this ostentatious. His turquoise eyes fell on you as Lady Raven guided you towards him, dragging his gaze across every inch of your figure. You did your best to ignore it, giving him a bashful smile.

"What have I done to deserve the company of two such radiant creatures?" Kaieel drawls, his grin wide and smug as he leans back in his seat.

"Kai," Valenia greets, her tone deceptively warm, intimacy still flowing between them. "This is—oh, dear, I fear I never got your name."

Before you can answer, an arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you into the familiar scent of cedar and night mist, the warmth of his hold makes your tense shoulders relax.

"Mrs. Lawmore," Azriel announces smoothly, answering for you as he gives Kaieel a grin, his smile disarming as he shields you beneath his presence.

"Lawmore?" Kaieel's eyes narrow with interest. "Lysan Lawmore, is that you under that mask?"

Azriel bows his head slightly, keeping his eyes down in fear of being caught. "It's been some time, apology for my absence but my beautiful wife here needed to be spoiled after our wedding night." You didn't want to know what happened to the real Lysan, neither did you want to know what Azriel did to him to get this information out of him.

"And how exactly did you win over such a lovely companion?" Kaieel continues, taking your hand with practiced charm, his lips brushing lightly over the sapphire on your ring finger.

You smile, tilting your head bashfully. "I believe I was the one winning him over," you say, cutting in before Azriel can.

Azriel's fingers trail from your shoulder down your arm, taking your hand from Kaieel's grasp and threading his fingers with yours. His touch is possessive but gentle, a silent claim.

"How sweet," Kaieel remarks, raising his glass in mock toast. "Remember when we were like that, darling?"

Valenia's eyes flash, her smirk tightening as she looks away. "They're newlyweds, Kai. Still in the honeymoon phase."

"Newlyweds, you say? Well, then," Kaieel says with a devilish grin. "We must celebrate. Let's toast!" He stood, raising his glass. He didn't have to so much as say a word for the entire ballroom to halt and turn to him.

"So kind of all of you to join us on this fine evening, not only are we celebrating this beautiful gathering the lovely Valenia put together," He pauses for a moment to gesture towards the woman who gave a practiced smile and an elegant wave of her hand. "But we are also celebrating the recently pronounced Mr. And Mrs. Lawmore!" He raises his glass, and even if none of these people so much as knew your name, they cheered anyway. Like puppets on a string, controlled by Kaieel himself.

"Go on," Kaieel presses, leaning forward with a wicked glint in his eye. "Kiss the bride."

The demand sends a shiver down your spine. Even the shadows twining around your legs seem to still, waiting.

Azriel was already staring at you, his eyes searching yours. His lips quirk into a soft, almost shy smile, and the question in his gaze is unmistakable.

You nod, barely perceptibly.

"Come here, love," he murmurs, his voice coaxing, tender.

Your lips met, fitting together with startling, unspoken precision—like the final piece of a puzzle you never realized was incomplete until it clicked into place. The kiss lasted only a heartbeat, but in that fleeting moment, everything shifted. The air between the two of you thickened, buzzing with a quiet intensity, as if the universe itself had paused to watch.

Something deep inside you stirred, a part of yourself you'd long buried or perhaps never even known. It unfurled like a blossom in the first light of dawn, warm and aching, a golden thread spinning itself between you. It twined tighter with every second, binding not just your bodies but something deeper, something elemental.

For that brief, infinite instant, there was no ballroom, no crowd, no mission. Just the two of you—two souls suspended in the gravity of a pull you couldn't name but could feel down to your very bones.

And then, like the breathless silence before a storm, realization hit you with shattering clarity. This wasn't just a kiss. It was him. Azriel.

Your mate.

The kiss ended as gently as it began, your eyes wide and searching but he remained calm and steady, you whisper, "You've known?"

Azriel's gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes, as if he was going to kiss you again, and again, and again until the gods themselves had to rip him from you. But before he can answer, the room erupts into applause, Kaieel's voice booming with praise.

Even as the crowd cheers and music resumes, you hear nothing but the pounding of your heart, feel nothing but the truth that thrums in your blood.

Mate.

And he knew.

You don't have time to process the truth searing through your veins. Mate. The word echoes in your mind like a thunderclap, threatening to drown out everything else. But Azriel's hand tightens around yours, steady and grounding. His golden eyes flicker with something unreadable—a mix of reassurance and warning—and you understand: you can't falter. Not here. Not now.

Kaieel's voice cuts through the applause, smug and commanding. "Come now, don't let the celebration stop the night's festivities. Dance, drink, enjoy yourselves!" His hand sweeps over the crowd, his charisma intoxicating, pulling their attention away from you. For now.

"You're too kind, Kaieel," Azriel says. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to spend some time with my wife."

Azriel tugs gently on your hand, guiding you away from the center of the ballroom. You follow, trying to shake the weight of the bond snapping into place. But even as he leads you, the golden thread between you hums with a new, undeniable awareness, the shadows brushing against you like a silent promise.

He doesn't speak until you've reached the edge of the room, tucked into the shadowy recess of a grand marble column. His lips are close to your ear, his voice low and smooth. "Are you with me?"

You nod, the words caught in your throat.

"Good," he murmurs. "We need to move fast. Valenia is the key to his plans. Now that you become acquainted we can use her."

You blink, willing yourself to focus. "How?"

"She's vulnerable," Azriel says, his tone edged with calculation. "Kaieel still holds power over her, and it's clear she despises him for it. We can exploit that. Learn who his allies are, how he's funding this rebellion. If we play her right, she'll give us everything."

You glance toward the center of the room, where Valenia stands at Kaieel's side, her posture poised but her eyes cold as she watches him bask in the attention of the crowd. Her mask of indifference is expertly crafted, but you can see the tension in her jaw, the way her fingers tighten around her champagne flute.

"She definitely hates him," you say quietly. "But will she betray him?"

Azriel's shadows curl against your skin, cold and steady. "She already has. Hosting this event on his behalf, exposing him to scrutiny. She's more desperate than she lets on." He tilts his head toward you, his voice softer now. "We just need to give her the final push."

You swallow hard, nodding. "And if she doesn't break?"

Azriel's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Then we'll find another way. We always do."

Before you can reply, a servant approaches with a silver tray bearing two glasses of dark red wine. Azriel accepts both, handing one to you with an easy smile that belies the sharpness of his focus.

"Drink," he murmurs. "And dance with me. They're watching."

"Again?" You ask, your heart stuttering, but you take the glass, letting him guide you back toward the dance floor.

"This is a ball, love." The music swells as he pulls you into his arms, his movements are fluid and natural as though you've danced together a hundred times. "You didn't think I'd be satiated with one dance, did you?"

The bond thrums again, golden and electric, and you can't ignore it any longer. "You knew, Az," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the violins.

Azriel's gaze flicks to yours, soft but unyielding. "Not here," he murmurs.

"But—"

"Later," he insists, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hand tightens slightly on your waist, grounding you. "Focus."

This is why he didn't want you coming, you realize. You force yourself to breathe, to move with him, to match the rhythm of the music. Around you, the crowd swirls, their laughter and chatter a muted backdrop. Kaieel and Valenia are watching from the edge of the room, their expressions unreadable.

"Valenia's looking for an ally," Azriel murmurs as he twirls you gracefully. "She doesn't trust him to win against Rhys. We offer her a way out, and she'll talk."

"How do we approach her without raising suspicion?"

Azriel's lips curve into a faint smirk. "Snead your way into her inner circle. Let her think it was her idea. I'll shadow you, gather what I can from Kaieel's other guests."

"And if something goes wrong?"

His hand slides up to your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your collarbone—a fleeting, deliberate touch. "It won't."

The music slows, and he pulls you closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And even if it did, I'd slaughter everyone in this room to get you out."

You shiver, both from fear and something you didn't have time to familiarize yourself with.

The song ends, and Azriel steps back, his mask of calm once again firmly in place. He presses a light kiss to your hand, his lips brushing your knuckles as his golden eyes lock onto yours.

"I'll be watching," he murmurs. Then he's gone, slipping into the crowd as if he were never there.

You take a steadying breath, turning your gaze toward Valenia. She's speaking with a pair of aristocrats now, her laughter light and airy, but her eyes remain calculating. You approach slowly, your steps measured and deliberate.

"Lady Valenia," you say with a soft smile as you reach her side. "I must thank you again for this incredible event."

She turns to you, her lips curling into a practiced smile. "Ah, Mrs. Lawmore. Enjoying yourself, I hope?"

"Very much," you reply smoothly. "Though I must admit, I'd hoped for a chance to speak with you more privately. Your reputation precedes you."

Her brows lift slightly, intrigue flickering in her eyes. "Does it now? And what exactly have you heard?"

You lean in slightly, lowering your voice just enough to draw her closer. "That you're the true power behind Kaieel's successes. A woman of vision and cunning."

She laughs softly, but there's a sharpness to it. "And what would you want with a woman like that, my dear?"

You smile, your gaze steady. "To learn from you, of course. I imagine there's much you could teach me."

Her eyes narrow slightly, studying you. Then, with a sly smile, she links her arm with yours. "Come, let's talk. Away from prying eyes."

As she leads you toward a quieter corner of the ballroom, you catch a glimpse of Azriel in the crowd. He's watching, his expression unreadable but his presence a constant reassurance.

The game has begun.

———

The ball had stretched into the long hours of the night. Most guests had already taken their leave, yet a few lingered—drunkards, their fingers greedily grasping for what remained of the free wine. You had spent the evening carefully cultivating a list of names, all while trying not to let the thought of your mate—a word that still felt foreign in your mind—distract you.

Valenia, meanwhile, had rattled on endlessly, weaving a tapestry of grand schemes to dismantle Kaieel's empire and seize it for herself. Such a fool. The way she outlined every step was invaluable, her unwitting admissions offering a clear view of both her vulnerabilities and Kaieel's. For someone who fancied herself clever, she didn't understand the dangers of oversharing. Perhaps conspiring alone for so long had driven her to some invisible line of insanity, one she'd now crossed with aplomb.

She was smarter than Kaieel, no doubt, but she wasn't as sharp as she thought herself to be. The rich rarely were. They plotted in circles, their plans frayed with assumptions that gold could patch any hole. A society built on corruption and greed was a society destined to crumble.

A knock on the door shattered the air between you, halting Valenia mid-sentence. Both of you froze as the door creaked open, revealing familiar black hair and molten golden eyes.

"Lysan," you said smoothly, forcing an easy smile.

Valenia hiccuped, swaying slightly as she glanced between you. The liquor had loosened her tongue and dulled her senses—a poor, unsuspecting thing. You'd kept her glass full all night, though yours had remained barely touched.

"You two are lucky," she murmured, her words slurred but still carrying a bite of jealousy.

Azriel tilted his head, stepping closer with his hand outstretched. You met him halfway, your fingers intertwining as if it were second nature.

"So in love," Valenia sighed wistfully. She swirled the deep red liquid in her glass. "Kaieel never looked at me the way he looks at you."

Azriel didn't miss a beat. "I am lucky, aren't I?" His voice was low as he leaned in, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear. The touch sent a tremor down your spine, though you leaned into him all the same, your composure unwavering.

"You two lovebirds get out of here," Valenia hummed, waving you off with a glass in hand. "I'll see you soon, Mrs. Lawmore."

You smiled at the title she so easily handed over, bowing your head alongside Azriel as you both slipped out of the room. Moments later, you left the ballroom entirely, leaving behind the clinking of glasses and murmurs of deceit.

———

Once you winnowed into The Cabin, the air was thick with unresolved tension, a thread drawn too tight and ready to snap. You released Azriel's arm but remained close, your breath steady, your gaze piercing.

He shifted, glancing at you with that careful, measured expression of his, but you saw through it. His wings flared slightly before tucking back, as if the space were already too confined for what lay between you.

"We need to debrief with Rhys—" he began, but the words barely escaped before you cut him off, your voice sharp.

"No." You held up a hand, stepping back. "We're not ignoring this."

Azriel sighed heavily, dragging a hand through his dark hair. He reached up, removing the mask with a deliberate slowness that felt like deflection. "Can I at least get comfortable first?"

"Seriously?" you snapped, your arms crossing over your chest.

But he ignored your tone, unbuttoning his shirt with maddening ease. The fabric slipped from his shoulders, revealing smooth, tan skin and the faint lines of tattoos curling down his forearms. Then came his wings—massive, stretching wide as the glamour faded, their dark beauty filling the room like a storm rolling in.

You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to look away as he folded them neatly behind him.

“Go on," he said, leaning back against the couch, his tattooed arms crossing over his chest, the sight terribly distracting. "I'm listening."

You glared at him, your voice tight. "You knew," you state.

He nodded slightly, but he said nothing, his golden eyes fixed on you with unnerving calm.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you demanded, your voice cracking despite your best efforts. "The bond—it's not something you just don't mention. Did you think I couldn't handle it?"

He exhaled slowly, his gaze steady. "It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it?" you shot back, your frustration spilling over. "You knew this whole time. Azriel, do you have any idea what it feels like to find out this way? To realize you've been keeping something this—this huge from me?"

His jaw tightened, but his expression softened just enough to betray a flicker of vulnerability. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to force it on you."

You barked out a bitter laugh. "Force it on me? What does that even mean? Did you think I'd reject it?"

Azriel stiffened, his wings flexing behind him as if to shield himself. "It's not that simple."

"Then make it simple," you snapped. "Because right now, it feels like you didn't tell me because you were planning to reject the bond. That you didn't want me—"

His voice cut through yours, low and rough like gravel. "Don't."

The single word silenced you, but only for a moment.

"Then tell me the truth, Azriel," you demanded, your tone breaking under the weight of the words. "Tell me why you didn't say anything. Was it because you didn't want me, or because you thought I didn't want you?"

That hit its mark. His jaw clenched, and he looked away, his wings shifting behind him as though he could fly away from the conversation. But he didn't. Instead, he took a step closer, the heat of his body suffocating.

"Love, please," he said, his voice tight with something raw and unspoken. "Do you know what it's like to see your mate and think, this is it—this is everything I've ever wanted—and to know they don't feel the same? To be terrified that if you tell them, they'll look at you like you're nothing?"

Your breath caught, the weight of his words crashing into you.

"Az."

"I didn't tell you," he continued, his voice quieter now, "because I didn't want to lose you before I even had you. I thought if I told you, it would scare you off. You'd think it was some obligation instead of a choice. And I couldn't risk that. I couldn't risk, us."

You blinked, the truth settling over you like a heavy blanket. He hadn't been withholding it because he didn't want you—he'd been scared. Scared of rejection. Scared of you walking away.

"Do you have any idea how hard it's been?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. "To see you every day, to stand beside you, and know I couldn't tell you? That I had to act like you were just someone I trained?"

Your heart twisted at the vulnerability in his words, but the anger lingered, sharp and cutting.

"You still should've told me," you said, your voice soft but firm. "You should've given me the choice. You didn't get to decide that for me."

"I know." He looked at you then, and the regret in his eyes made your chest ache. "I know I should've told you. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life. But don't think, not even for a second, that I didn't want you."

Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. He took a step closer, his golden eyes searching yours.

"You can hate me for not telling you," he said, his voice low and rough. "You can hate me for being a coward. But don't ever think I didn't want this. Don't think I didn't want you. Please."

You stood there, his words reverberating in your chest, threatening to undo the last thread of your composure. His golden eyes never left yours, the air between you charged with too much to name. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your breathing even as emotions warred within you.

Finally, you broke the silence. "You should've told me," you said softly, the edge in your voice dulling. "Because for all your talk of not forcing it, you didn't even consider that I might have wanted it too."

His eyes widened slightly, and you took a half-step closer, the tension between you pulling tight.

"I've felt, something," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper now. "For a while. I just figured it was a stupid crush, that I was imagining the lingering glances and the all too long touches." You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "But now I know."

His breath hitched, and for the first time, Azriel looked truly shaken. Vulnerable. Like he didn't know what to do with your words.

So you took the choice away and kissed him.

It was tentative at first, your lips brushing his with a softness that belied the storm building inside you. He froze for a heartbeat, and you thought maybe you'd miscalculated—but then his hands were on your waist, pulling you closer.

When you pulled back, your lips tingling, you raised a brow at the stunned expression on his face. "Kiss me like that again and I might just have to accept the bond," you teased, your tone light but laced with meaning.

"Oh, I'll do more than that." He replied with an easy smirk on his face and before you could muster a flustered reply he connected your lips again, harder this time, more desperate. His hands slid up your back, his wings stretching slightly as though the emotions were too much for him to contain. You gasped into him, his shadows curling around your legs as his lips claimed you fully, unapologetically.

The kiss stretched, time losing meaning as you melted into him. His tongue brushed against yours, his grip on you firm yet reverent, as if he couldn't decide whether to pull you closer or keep himself in check.

He kisses you like it's the only thing keeping him tethered to the world like you're the air he needs to breathe. His lips press against yours with fervent urgency, soft yet commanding, leaving no space for hesitation.

The warmth of his mouth sends a shiver racing down your spine, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him—silken and deliberate, coaxing, drawing you in until everything else fades. His hands tighten at your waist, his fingers digging into your dress that rivaled the intensity of his kiss.

The world tilts, time seems to stall, and all you can feel is him—the taste of him, the way his body leans into yours as though he can't bear to be apart. Every brush of his lips, every slight tilt of his head, feels like an unspoken confession as if through this kiss alone, he's telling you everything he can't put into words.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. His lips were slightly swollen, his golden eyes darkened with something almost primal.

"What does this mean?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

You tilted your head, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "It means," you said, brushing a finger against his chest, "you're going to sit right there." You push him slightly, and he falls back onto the couch as if you struck him with an unrecoverable blow.

He blinked, clearly thrown off by the abrupt shift in your tone. "What?"

"Sit right there," you repeated, gesturing toward the couch. Then, turning on your heel, you made your way toward the kitchen without a backward glance.

He stared after you, confused as to where you were going during a moment like this.

The sound of pans clinking and spices mingling in the air brought him back to reality, though he still couldn't fully grasp what was happening. He'd faced centuries of war, unflinching in the face of death, yet now he sat there—utterly flustered.

An agonizing twenty minutes later, you returned with a tray, setting it down on the small table in front of him. The aroma was rich and comforting, a simple yet meaningful meal that made his chest tighten.

You placed the tray in front of him, your expression softer now, though the playful glint in your eye hadn't dimmed. "Eat, Azriel," you said, settling beside him. "You've earned it after all these years."

He stared at the plate for a moment, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Then he looked at you, his voice unsteady. "This... this is real, isn't it?"

You smiled, leaning down, pressing a kiss onto the corner of his lips just because you couch. "What do you think?"

Azriel didn't answer, but the faintest smile tugged at his lips as he picked up the fork. You watched as he took the first bite, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

The bond hummed between you, a quiet, unspoken promise. And as Azriel sat there, eating the food you'd prepared with shadows still swirling around your feet, you realized that this—this quiet moment—was the most eventful part of the night.

And for once, Azriel looked at ease. Flustered, yes. But undeniably yours. And soon, the frenzy would set in, and he'd show you exactly how much of him was yours, body and soul, mates.

Continued drabble here!

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[saintobio]

*๑♡՞ i, spy.

pairings. sylus, fem!reader tags. 1.5k wc, mild angst, suggestive ending, jealousy, petnames as usual (kitten, sweetie, baby doll), alcohol consumption, sylus being annoying lmao, loosely inspired by his immobilized memory

sylus can be very petty when he wants to be.

today’s weather was beyond freezing, and the view of the icy mountains in the arctic region stood tall over the hotel grounds where the hunter’s association team-building event was taking place. you had spent the entire day engaged in activities with your team, enjoying every moment, and your laughter mingling with the cheerful atmosphere. it had been awhile since you last went on a snowboarding trip with the rest of your hunter friends, so this day brought about just the perfect quality time to boost camaraderie amongst your team. 

unbeknownst to you, sylus, who had also chosen to stay at the same hotel, was watching from a distance. his red eyes, usually cold and calculating, were now burning with an intensity fueled by jealousy. you had been spending time with xavier, your interactions light and full of warmth, and sylus could barely contain his frustration as he saw how your colleague brought you hot chocolate and used his palms to warm your cheeks.

“tch.” sylus absently swirled his glass of whiskey, the ice making a faint clink as he observed you from the balcony of his room. “seems like a stray kitten has found a new companion.”

then, as the evening arrived, your group gathered for dinner and you were happily chatting with your team, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind the scenes (aka by a certain tall man with grayish hair and crimson eyes). the rest of your hunter friends eventually headed back to their own rooms after finishing their meals, while a couple others chose to spend more time at the hotel bar. your activity of choice for the night was also the latter, telling xavier that it was okay for him to head back to his room knowing how he had been fighting the drowsiness off for the last hour. 

meanwhile, sylus soon made his entrance at the bar, accompanied by a striking woman whose presence was impossible to ignore. her outfit was dazzling, and she seemed to be following sylus’s every command like a pet.

impossible! you thought, eyes widening in panic as soon as you saw the onychinus leader. if your hunter friends found out that the n109 boss was here, this hotel would turn into a battlefield in a heartbeat.  

yet sylus, completely unfazed, walked over to your area in the bar counter with the woman by his side. his smirk was barely concealed as he approached you. “i didn’t expect to see you here, kitten,” he said, his voice smooth and dripping with subtle menace. “i brought a friend along.”

you looked up, your heart sinking as you took in the sight of sylus’s companion. she was effortlessly glamorous with her sleek blonde hair and exquisite fur jacket, her every movement seemingly calculated to draw attention. however, despite her overflowing gorgeous exterior, sylus’s gaze was fixed on you. and the asshole was watching your reaction with an almost predatory intensity.

“oh, sylus,” you said in an attempt to sound casual. “what a surprise.”

“oh, certainly, kitten. and by the way, this is elara,” sylus introduced, gesturing to the woman beside him. “she’s been kind enough to accompany me this evening.”

elara gave you a warm smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. her partner, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the way her presence unsettled you as he took a seat next to her, deliberately placing her between the two of you. “nice to meet you!” 

“likewise,” you replied, shaking her hand and forcing a smile. 

“care to join us, miss hunter?” sylus said with a smirk, his eyes glinting as he watched you hesitate. his arm was draped casually around elara’s shoulders, and the sight made your stomach churn with a strange mix of envy and frustration. “elara and i are just about to get some drinks.”

“join us, please!” the woman next to him encouraged.

“uh, sure.” pressured by the situation, you gave a subtle nod, only to receive a gleam of satisfaction in sylus’s eyes.

this bastard! you didn’t like how his hand was lingering on her arm in a way that was meant to be seen. each laugh they shared, each touch, seemed designed to push you further into a pit of jealousy. and the way stupid sylus kept glancing at you, gauging your reaction, only made the situation more unbearable. that’s it, you silently snickered in your head, i should call him stupid sylus. 

you forced yourself to focus on your blue raspberry cocktail, trying to ignore sylus’s stupid blabbering while rushing to finish your drink. his actions were a blatant attempt to make you feel inferior, and it was working. it was definitely working. but you couldn’t lose your composure now despite him making sure to lavish attention on elara. every time he touched her back and her waist, you felt a pang of jealousy growing more and more intense by the second. it didn’t help that sylus’s presence was also a constant reminder of the way he could manipulate your emotions, and it was driving you to the edge.

“so,” sylus tapped his fingers on the counter, his voice low and intentionally provocative, “how’s your evening been, miss hunter?”

“fine,” you replied tersely, trying to mask the irritation and hurt simmering beneath the surface.

“just fine?” sylus asked, his smirk widening. “i thought you were enjoying yourself today. seeing you with your colleague was quite… interesting.”

“if you’re referring to xav—” you paused, remembering that xavier had a bounty in his head at the n109 zone and it was best to keep him out of conversations with sylus, so you decided to change the topic, “did you have mephisto report all my activities to you again?” 

him and his equally stupid bird. so annoying. 

“there’s no need for that, sweetie. you stick out like a sore thumb, so you’re not that difficult to spot.” he smiled as he talked, like he was having so much fun at mocking you. oh, he’s deliberately pushing my buttons! his actions were a cruel game meant to make you question your feelings and your place in his life. 

before you could retort, elara suddenly tugged his sleeve, focusing all of his misrouted attention back to her. “honey,” she spoke to him sweetly, “what drink do you recommend i should get next?” 

you rolled your eyes and turned away, the old man playing the piano now a much more interesting sight to look at compared to the two lovey-dovey couple next to you. but really, it was suffocating to be anywhere near sylus, and the only way to stop feeling all of these crazy emotions swirling inside of you was to not be around him. 

and so with that, finally, after what felt like an eternity, you excused yourself. but the walk back to your room was quickly interrupted by the figure of a six foot two man, his towering height preventing you from taking another step without his permission. “where do you think you’re going, kitten?” he asked, noticing the sourness in your expression that you tried so hard to conceal. 

“heading back,” you merely responded, trying to find an escape by pointing towards the opposite direction. “look over there, isn’t that luke and kieran?”

as soon as sylus turned his head, you made a swift beeline for the bar’s exit. you even sighed of relief as you managed to free yourself from his presence, now making your way through the empty halls of the hotel. unfortunately for you, sylus wasn’t one to let something like this go. so before you could even think of hiding and running away, he was already walking next to you—the frown on his face growing more pronounced as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the nearby elevator. 

“let go—!” you protested, wiggling your hands from his tight hold. “where ‘re you taking me?”

“my suite,” he muttered, pressing the button to the top most floor. “sleep in my room tonight.” 

you let out a loud, sardonic chuckle. “says who?” 

sylus, crossing his arms, looked at you with thin, furrowed brows. “your only choice is to obey me, kitten.” 

an exasperated sigh escaped your lips. “isn’t elara supposed to be with you?” you questioned, “you should bring her to your room, not me!” 

it was too late. because no matter how much you struggled against his iron grip, you were later pushed inside his presidential suite, the grandiose of his room stupefying you. the smell of red roses and wine was a relaxing aroma that continued to pull you inside. yet, before you can take another step, sylus was already pulling you by the waist, leaning in to crash his lips onto yours. 

at first you tried to push him off, but who were you kidding here? of course, you’d eventually melt into the kiss, allowing him to envelop his lips around yours, its soft and tender movements sending shivers down your spine. each kiss was a loud smooch echoing across the room.

“were you jealous?” he asked in a low voice, biting your lower lip and pulling only slightly away. “i don’t have that kind of relationship with elara. she’s just a staff member of mine that i asked to make you jealous.” 

“okay, and?” you frowned at his handsome face, hating how easily he could get under your skin. literally and figuratively. “the way you were still touching her was…” 

“your jealousy is showing, sweetie.” a smile of mischief crept up on sylus’s lips before he extended a hand to squeeze your ass. “and what about the way your male colleague doted on you all day, hm? had fun being treated like a princess by him?” 

“why do you care?” you asked, trying to sound indifferent despite the ticklish kisses he was trailing along your neck. “it’s none of your business who i talk to.”

“oh, it is my business, baby doll.” sylus’s smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, now unbuttoning his shirt and suggesting a very rough night ahead. “because i care about what i have. and right now, that’s you.”

[rosebudfics]

Professor!reader and severus being married but hiding it from the students, bc they dont want the gossip and are just private people in general BUT one day sev forgets to take off his wedding ring and the golden trio go on this whole mission to find out who hes married to; completely freaking out when it turns out hes with reader cause theyre complete opposites while teaching

(Sorry if this is too long or doesnt make sense :^ i had this scenario in my head for some time lol)

Secret Lovers

Severus Snape x Professor! Reader

Warnings: use of the name "git" a lot lol, reader is the astronomy teacher but you can swap it out for any class, Snape smacks Ron and Harry

A/N: I LOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH OMG!?!?!?! also this isnt really set in any specific year but its more leaning towards where theyre older since snape you know.. hits ron and harry over the head and harry has the map <3

You and Severus had managed to keep your relationship secret for a couple years now, with the exception of only Minerva and Dumbledore knowing.

Why does anyone else need to know anyway? It was none of their business!

So one regular morning when you and Sev were getting ready for the day in the early hours of the morning, he had somehow forgotten to take his golden band off. You both would usually keep them in a little ring box at home so they were hidden but safe and put them back on at night, but today Severus had just forgotten to take it off.

You would bid your goodbyes at home before you left together, getting one last kiss in before heading back to Hogwarts, then Severus would put his usual cold face back on.

You both headed to your classrooms like normal, Severus still failing to notice the wedding band still on his finger.

When classes started, everything was going how it usually would: he would deduct house points, snapping at kids whenever they would interrupt his teaching, etc. That is until Hermione noticed a particular shine off her teachers hand.

Hermione looked closer before very quietly gasping. "Holy cricket!" She whispered so only Harry and Ron could hear her.

“What?” Ron asked curiously but not very quietly, earning the attention of Severus.

“On Professor Snape’s hand, he was wearing a wedding ring!” She said in a hushed voice.

“You must be crazy Herminone, there's no way that he’s married to someone.” Harry chuckled.

“Yeah, no ones gonna want to let alone be in any relationship with that old git-” Ron was interrupted by getting smacked over the head by Severus, followed up by Harry getting smacked as well.

Hermione just kept quiet, keeping her giggle to herself.

“Would you mind repeating yourself Mr. Weasley?” Severus sneered down at him.

“...no, sorry.” Ron grumbled.

“Mhm. 5 points from Gryffindor, and that's me being generous.”

After class, Ron, Hermione, and Harry all gathered at the library at break. “Are you sure you saw a ring, Hermione? Was it even on his ring finger?” Harry asked as he sat down some books in front of him.

“I'm certain! The real question is though, to who?” Hermione thought for a minute.

“Harry, why can't we just use your cloak to spy on him?” Ron questioned like it was obvious.

“Brilliant!” Harry exclaimed but Hermione smacked him in the arm.

“That's invading his privacy! It's terribly rude.” She scoffed.

Ron then mocked her, earning a smack. After a while of begs and pleas, she finally caved.

“Alright, alright!” She sighed.

They then all made their way back to the dorm to get everything they needed. Harry also grabbed the Marauders Map so it would be easier to find Snape. And then off they went on their little adventure to hunt down his wife.

They had to do some weaving and dodging to not bump into anyone (they bumped into Neville at some point, terrifying him) until they made it to the staff room. Harry looked down at his map to find Snape and you, they're astronomy teacher, alone.

“What are Professor Snape and Professor y/n doing together?” Ron asked in a confused voice.

Harry hushed him and then looked into the keyhole to find Snape and you talking to eachother.

“Are you sure no one saw the ring?” you asked again.

“Yes, dear, I am sure of it.” Snape said in a somewhat annoyed tone. “If someone did see it, I would be getting hounded with questions!”

“Yeah well not if all the students are terrified of you!” you sighed. “Look I'm not mad, I don't want you to think that, it's just we've gone this long keeping it secret it feels weird to just slip up like this”

Severus stepped towards you and grabbed your face in his hands. “Listen love, no one will know. Maybe in the future we can be more open about it.” He then bent down and kissed her gently, and you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer.

Harry gasped quietly and backed up. He was about to say something before he heard footsteps walking towards the door. “We gotta get outta here!”

They all then scurried off down the hall back to the dormitory.

“Harry, what did you see? What were they doing in there?” Ron asked.

“Its professor y/n, that's who he's married to!” Harry was slightly out of breath from running.

“Professor y/n?? But they're so.. so different!” Hermione was shocked.

“You must be seeing things mate, there's NO way Proffesor y/n is married to the old git.” Ron scoffed.

“I'm telling you! They were talking about how he had forgotten to take his ring off or something and then they kissed!” Harry gushed.

They then talked about why you would ever want to marry Snape for the rest of break. Interestingly enough they next class was with you!

Since you were an extremely nice and open teacher, they felt more comfortable talking to you about it.

"So professor y/n, have you been seeing anyone lately?" Ron asked before class actually started.

You were caught off guard to say the least. "Well... I dont really see how my romantic life concerns any of you," you laugh whole heartedly.

Ron then smirked. "You never denied it. Perhaps another Proffesor that teaches here!" Hermione pinched his side as a warning to shut up.

"I don't know what your getting at, Ron" you chuckle becoming a little worried.

"Well the man I'm thinking of is a mean, old, cranky git that likes potions-"

"Thats enough! You don't ever talk about another Proffesor like that!" You scolded him.

"Alright, sorry proffesor... but im right, aren't i?" Ron smirked.

Harry and Hermione perked up to listen.

You sighed, before making sure that no other student or teacher was around, nd then said "You must not tell anyone."

[violet-eng]

Drunk!Loid Forger x wife!fem!reader | NSFW 🔞

Summary: Loid comes home very late drunk after going out drinking with Franky. He fucks you drunk.

Warnings: Porn with no plot lol. Smut +18. Oral fem! Masturbation. Inappropriate use of belt. Spanking. P i v. Unprotected sex, mention of pregnancy. MDNI

Wc: idk like 3k?

━─━─────────༺༻────────━─━

For Agent Twilight, there was something pleasurable about playing Loid Forger, the carelessness that the peaceful family man could indulge in from time to time without suffering any major consequences...like the night Franky had invited him out for a drink.

Twilight was a man of strong drinks, the kind that go to your head and detach you from reality by ripping your thoughts and every last drop of consciousness from your brain... he was addicted to those drinks because he could stand them, because they were no challenge for the best spy in Westalis.

However... along with the wonderful, sweet personality that the Loid Forger brings with him, certain misplaced platitudes fall upon Twilight. Twilight was a cold man of steady mettle and pure stoicism, a determination that could not be eclipsed by mundane feelings like... falling in love....

The fusion of his alter ego as Loid Forger with that of his original identity as Twilight had led him to the very night he stumbled back to your house, his hand covering his face in search of relief from the terrible headache.

He doesn't turn on the kitchen light because he knows you're sleeping in their shared room, and he doesn't make any noise when he fills a glass of water because he's afraid of disturbing your sleep.

You, his beautiful and efficient wife, what more could he ask for but a devoted woman like you. Fuck... if only his mission would never end... he wouldn't have to leave you.

"Loid..." you whisper from the living room, peering over the wall. He woke you up... you can't see him in this state, he can't talk in this state. If he confesses anything now, if he gets carried away with his feelings for you, anything would jeopardize the mission...

Come on, Twilight, think fast. He shakes his head as he returns to his role as Loid Forger.

"Y/n, my dear. I'm sorry I woke you," the voice is calm, even though your name falls from his lips in a frenzy of emotions.

"You came back late," you add, emerging from your hiding place and walking towards him, who stops breathing for a moment.

The dim light illuminates your figure, you are wearing only one of his shirts, which covers the skin above your thighs, and a pair of white wool stockings. Your hair is down, and it seems to Twilight that you look perfect in this moment, with these clothes and this warm light.

Damn, she looks so...

"I'm... I'm sorry, I went out for a drink with Franky. I didn't think I'd be back so late," he stammers for a moment. What are you doing to him? What effect do you have on him that he can't control his emotions?

"I see," you smile, "your cheeks are pink, you look lovely"

"No... no, of course not," he turns his face away, lips parted and cheeks burning.

What are you doing, Twilight, regain your composure.

"I missed you," you confess, embracing him from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist and letting them fall to his stomach, filling his breath with your scent, your lemon and honey scent reaching into the deepest recesses of his mind, taking over his consciousness and his last shred of self-control.

I am Twilight... and I am fucked... I want to fuck her tonight like I've wanted to fuck her for months.

You are completely unaware of the man on top of you. He has carried you into the bedroom in one swift, nimble movement, stealthily and carefully. He has laid you down on the mattress and is now attacking your neck with his lips.

Whiskey breath surrounds your mind, your consciousness is clouded and your heart is disturbed by the frenzy of your husband's kisses, causing sensual gasps on your skin. Loid's hands run through your hair, tangling behind your neck to give him more access to your neck and chin, devouring your surface with hunger and desire.

You are completely immobilized by his muscular body, and by the surprise that his behavior has caused you, you feel your heart in your throat, the beats echoing in your ears, only eclipsed by his moaning when he touches the valley of your breasts through your shirt.

"Loid~" you bite your lip and try to push him away with both hands, but it's no use, Loid is so much stronger than you. Has he always been like this?

"You have no idea how you turn me on," he whispers, almost on the verge of madness, his throat is choked and he holds back his tongue that wants to run all over your body.

He sits on top of you, you find relief in being able to breathe normally for a moment as you see him unbutton his shirt, opening it with a jerk to expose his chiseled abdomen. It's not the first time you've looked at him without his clothes on, but you always marvel at the way his muscles stand out against his skin, the way a few scars frame his pecs and abdomen.

You reach out and touch his skin, the line between his chiseled abs, in a reflexive action. Having him so close, like this, awakens a vulgar side in you that only he knows.

"Patience," he whispers, the tone deep and punctuated with a lustful gasp.

He throws the cloth away from the bed and leaves his hands on the belt of his pants. His movements are desperate yet unmistakable, he is quite skilled for being so drunk.

His pants are on the floor next to his shirt and boxers, he holds the belt between his hands and strokes the leather with his fingers, a dark idea floating in his mind.

"Loid..." you get his attention, only to meet a dark stare, bathed in malice.

"I have plans for you, y/n" his smile is evil, but it turns you on, fuck, you've never seen this side of your husband before.

Loid made love to you, when you slept together he was the soft and gentle type who cared more about your satisfaction than his own. He didn't play with you, he didn't tempt you and he didn't make you beg. His gaze was always loving, full of sincere and genuine affection. His kisses were chaste, almost as if you would break if he came any closer, and his thrusts were gentle, so that he could feel you clearly and not hurt you.

And he didn't cum inside you because he knew you weren't ready to be pregnant, because it was enough to take care of Anya, another child would be too much work for both of you... so when you were done, he bathed you and fell asleep next to you, framing your form with a protective hug and sweet, almost poetic words in your ear until you were both asleep. Loid was a sweet and loving husband...

That was Loid, and it was okay... for you... because for Twilight, it was a nightmare.

He hated going slow, he hated not being able to bite your skin or leave marks between your legs, and worst of all, he hated you moaning a name that wasn't even his. That's why tonight, he would completely take over Forger's identity, kill Loid, and do to your body what Twilight had wanted to do since he first saw you.

"Shit," he grunts as he takes his member in his hand and fucks him with his fist, throwing his head back. Just the thought of fucking you that night had turned him on.

You look at him with great surprise, you've never seen Loid masturbate before and you didn't think the first time would be while he was on top of you. The way his ragged breathing lifts his chest, the way his muscles flex as he jerks his arm, and especially the way he moans your name as the red head of his cock drips pre-cum.

Even though you are completely unaware of this behavior, you can't take your eyes off of him. You slip a hand under your clothes, rifling through your panties in search of your clit, throbbing at the image of Loid above you. Your wrist is gripped by Loid's hand, which leans over you with a tight grip and whispers into your ear.

"Not yet. I haven't given you permission," the voice is unrecognizable, Loid has never used such a low tone.

He undoes the buttons of your shirt, pulling the fabric apart as he dips his face between your bare breasts, sliding the fabric under your shoulders as you squirm from the soft bites he leaves around your nipples.

He circles his tongue around the buttons of your breasts as he runs his hands all over you, from your sides to your arms, lifting them above your head. Loid touches you as if he has never touched a woman before.

He takes the belt and holds your wrists above your head, watching you from his position, like a hunter watching his prey. You let yourself be taken in by his bizarre game, maybe it's a fantasy he's wanted to fulfill for a long time and now he has the confidence to do it, you think.

And the reality is that Twilight fucks like this because he knows he's going to fuck you so good that you'll want to push it away with all your might.

He leaves a trail of kisses all over your face, down your chin, your neck, between your breasts and your stomach, around your waist and down to your hips, where he holds the elastic of your panties, fucking soaked with your juices.

He glances at you before tearing the thin fabric, and for a moment you can see the face of an unknown man, his face completely changed by the lust he is releasing at that moment. Leaning back on his elbows, he spreads your legs and rests them on his shoulders, licking his lips as he watches your dripping pussy.

With his fingers he gently caresses your valley and the edge of your hole, his finger grazes your clitoris, eliciting a moan from you.

He looks at you from between your legs, analyzes your face and the surroundings, and you swear his mind is going a mile a minute right now."What are you thinking about?" you ask embarrassed.Loid turns his gaze back to you, the blue of his eyes seeming darker than before.

"I was debating whether to gag you or not, I don't want to wake the kid."

"I won't make any noise... I... I promise," you say hesitantly, because you don't believe your own words.

"I want to hear you hold back," he smiles, the corner of his lip turning to the side.

He dips his face between your legs, his nose brushing your skin, his fingers parting your folds, his tongue moving from the base to the top. You shiver at the passage of his tongue as it begins to wiggle around your clit. It is delicate, gentle, as it always has been... but he seems to enjoy it more than before.

He gasps as he moves his head, his fingers spreading your folds further apart and you feel the warmth of his breath on your entrance. He doesn't tire, he doesn't stop, in fact, with each movement he seems more energetic than before.

He continues to caress your clit with his tongue, sucking on the small nub that makes you arch your back and hold back the moans that want to escape your mouth. You feel Loid's tongue at your entrance and his nose brushing your clit, then a finger slips gently inside you, followed by another.

His fingers are long, calloused, and surprisingly dexterous. He finds your spot almost immediately and you feel like you're seeing stars. His tongue doesn't leave your clit, your button is swollen and he sucks on it passionately while his fingers abuse your sensitive spot inside you.

Your walls close over his fingers, he thrusts in and out, fucking you wonderfully with his digits, while your ecstasy grows in your belly from his skillful tongue.

He lets out a hot gasp against your skin, and the sound of his fingers soaked in your juices floods the room, it seems harder and harder to contain your moans. You bite your lip hard as he makes a soft stroke over your button, his fingers digging deep inside you.

He makes a curious movement, lifting his fingers and seeming to increase his speed, he uses his other hand to mistreat your clit, with his elbows he spreads your legs. You can't close them, you want to, you want him to stop, you feel the burning in your stomach and in your legs. He lowers his face again to the level of your sex, just when it seems he is finished, he continues, his tongue abusing your hole and your clit in perfect synchrony, a hand runs down your belly and catches your breast.

"Loid~" you let out his name in an anxious moan "Ah~ Loid..."

That name, he thinks, his mouth and mind focused on your sex... I am that now, I am Loid Forger, this is my wife, and I will see to it that she can't get out of bed for days.

"Loid," you add, taking his hair between your fingers, your bound wrists making movement difficult.

"Mmh?" he whispers still between your legs, the vibrations of his voice sending electric waves up your spine.

"Since when... you're so good... so good at this," your words are cut off by a dirty moan that slips from between your lips. It hurts, it hurts not to be able to make a sound, it hurts not to be able to scream out how good your husband is eating you right now.

"What do you mean?" he asks, he knows exactly what you mean, but he likes to play with your mind, right now.

His movements are synchronized again and your mind is confused as you feel your orgasm erupt. Loid has never made you come with his tongue alone. And he hasn't lasted this long. It's different, he behaves differently.

You're breathing hard, your mind a whirlwind, and even more so as you watch Loid savor the nectar that has stained his fingers. His tongue dances erotically between his digits, and his gaze is all on you.

"I missed your taste. Much better than whiskey," he says.

You pick up your legs, thinking he is done, and when you go to ask him to untie your hands, you feel him flip your hips. The movement is quick, almost imperceptible, your face is glued to the sheet, and when you go to protest the sudden change of position, you feel him sink deep inside you.

"Loid!" the cry you let out is unmistakable. It hurt, but it also felt so good. He pushes your walls apart with his cock, molding your insides for him. He leaves a resounding slap on your butcheek and you hear him laughing behind you.

"Just what I wanted to hear," he says.

He pulls back, letting the head tease your entrance, your sodden pussy contracting to nothing, and he slips back in, whole, as far as your cervix will allow. You feel the crash of his hips against your ass and his balls slapping against your skin. His hands are anchored to your hips, leaving occasional slaps on your now pink skin. He's ramming you like an animal, the pace is fast and the force is enormous.

You tremble, your face sunk into the mattress, your forehead rubbing against the sheet from your husband's movements, your elbows in front of your head and your hands raised as if in prayer.

"Loid~ please...more...slower," you moan, almost sobbing.

Each thrust is accompanied by moans from both of you, his moans dark in comparison to yours, and in the background the grinding of the bed and the banging of the headboard against the wall. He moves like he's never moved before, fucks you like he's never fucked you before.

His fingers slide under your belly, touching your clit, you let out another scream at the overstimulation, and begin to move your hips in time to his fingers. Your breasts are massaged by his other hand, fully attended.

"Loid, Loid I..." you don't know what to say, the sentences you blurt out are meaningless, pleasure clouds your mind and all you hear is Loid's low growl behind you.

"You have no idea," he whispers in your ear and leans over you. You feel his chest against your back, your pussy shuddering at the change in position and the sudden cessation of his assault. "You have no idea how many times I've wanted to fuck you like this."

He spreads your lips with his fingers and your tongue tastes your own taste and a hint of the whiskey he'd had a few hours ago.

"m gonna fuck you until that little pussy of yours breaks, did you hear me?" he demanded grabbing a fistful of your hair and lifting your head.

"Yes... yes I heard you" you blurted out between moans. You couldn't say no, you didn't want to.

He continues his onslaught, more violent than the previous ones, expanding your walls, opening you wide for him, throwing your head back in an avid attempt to enjoy every nook and cranny of your loins. It feels as if it's going to pierce you at any moment, hammering against your spot abruptly, relentlessly.

You turn your head to look at him in the mirror, head back, eyes closed and lips parted, letting out low moans. His arms, muscles tense as his hands hold your hips, holding you in place. His hips move deftly, forcefully, he knows how to align himself perfectly before entering you again.

And you, your back is arched perfectly, your ass vibrates with each thrust and your breasts jiggle in frenzy from the onslaught of his cock. Your cheeks are pink, your lips swollen, your forehead sweaty.

"So good" you hear Loid, who leaves his hand on the back of your neck, returning to your starting position.

You reach your second orgasm without even recovering from the first, and Loid cums inside you soon after.

"I like that you have stamina," he says, turning your body around without coming out of you, his movements continuing, resuming the frantic rhythm of a few seconds ago.

You don't have stamina, fuck no, of course not. But there's not much you can do when your hands are tied and held down by a burly man taller than you. You tell him you can't take it anymore, you feel like you're going to pass out, but fuck, how good it feels when he caresses your waist while he fucks you in that position.

He hides his face in your neck, strokes your hair, frames your cheek with his hand. Untie your hands without looking, and you finally feel free enough to anchor yourself to his back, marking his skin with your nails and playing with his hair.

Loid's favorite position is missionary, because he can smell you as he penetrates you, because he has access to you in every possible way, because he intertwines his hands with yours above your head and whispers that he loves you, over and over and over again.

"Say my name," he whispers, his voice drowned out by your shoulder, "say my name, please.

"Loid," you whisper again and again as you wrap your legs around his waist and your hands find comfort in his.

He kisses you, kisses you as if he had never kissed you before, as if with one kiss he could suck your soul and keep you in his chest forever. With this kiss, he tears away all your doubts and strengthens the promise of a life together with you.

He will not leave you, he tells you fervently, he swears on his life that he will never leave you, that he will put a child in you and that he will not leave this family.

"I hope you will accept me as I am," he whispers.

"Oh, Loid," you smile as you cling to him in an embrace, your legs feeling your third orgasm approaching,

"Loid~ I love you...".

There are no words to describe this night, it has drained you of all your energy, you feel almost sick, weak and completely out of control.Loid hugs you to his chest and covers you with the sheets, leaving a kiss on your forehead and whispers how well you took it.

"Loid..." you whisper.

"Yes?"

"You don't have to ask me to accept you...I love you in every possible way. If this is your way of telling me that I need to get to know you better, I am ready to do so. If I discover another phase of you, as I did today, I will be more than happy to do so," you look at him smiling, "I have noticed that you have many faces that I don't know, Loid Forger.

Loid Forger, he thinks, the man of a thousand faces... doesn't sound bad.

He knows he'll have to tell you about his mission someday, but now is not the time, not after he's shed his facade and shown you an authentic side of himself. Even though he knows you'll understand, he doesn't want to risk everything, at least not yet... later, when you know Twilight better, he can tell you everything... and stay with you. ....

[cherryredcheol]

just one secret

tldr: you know what they say about assuming... a/n: reader is referred to as she/her/wife. this is as angsty as i'll ever be (and this isn't angst)

“okay, just make sure she doesn’t find out. i don’t want her to know.”

you stopped dead in your tracks. you weren’t trying to spy on mingyu and his phone conversation, honest. you had just woken up from a very peaceful nap and the plan was to go beg mingyu to cook for you, or at least pay for take-out. your blood ran cold hearing mingyu on the phone in the living room. you didn’t keep secrets from each other. or at least you didn’t keep secrets from him. you were under the impression it went both ways but suddenly you’re not sure. 

you knew you were jumping to conclusions. you’re not even sure what he was talking about. who he was talking about. it could be any other woman in his life, his sister or his mom. but how were you not supposed to spiral when you hear him whispering on the phone to god knows who about secrets? your stomach twisted uncomfortably. what were you going to-

“angel? you up? are you hungry?” mingyu was calling to you from the living room. he must’ve heard you down the hall. before you could even figure out what your next steps were going to be, he appeared in the doorway, backlit from the sunny windows, and you almost melted seeing him smile at you. but then that little voice in the back of your head reminded you mingyu was keeping secrets. 

“who were you on the phone with?” you had to play it cool, not wanting to alert him of your suspicion. you didn’t want to accuse him of something that was nothing. the best course of action here was to let him tell you. ask a few leading questions and let him fill in the blanks. if it really was nothing, he’d tell you. 

mingyu started walking towards you, holding his arms out for you. “it was no one, angel. are you hungry? i can cook or we can get take-out. what sounds good?” he had reached you at this point, wrapped you up in his arms where you stood stiff as a board. 

your thoughts were racing. why didn’t he tell you who was on the phone? what was going on? why was mingyu keeping secrets?

“angel?” he peered down at you, clearly waiting for your answer. 

you shook your head, clearing your thoughts, “i’ll eat whatever, gyu. i’m not picky.” you pulled yourself out of his arms, suddenly feeling suffocated by his embrace for the first time since you met him. “i’m going to shower real quick while we wait for dinner. okay?” 

you didn’t even wait for his reply before you abruptly turned and went back into the bedroom you had just come from. 

in the safety of the ensuite bathroom, you stripped and let your thoughts run wild as the shower warmed up. what was going on? things with mingyu had been so good for the last 3 years. you two were so in love, his members often complained about spending time with the two of you, citing nausea at the sight of mingyu’s lovesick eyes boring into yours. 

you jumped when you heard a knock at the door. 

“angel? can i come in?” you could hear the confusion in his voice. probably wondering why you had suddenly decided on a shower and not engaging in your usual bicker over what to eat for dinner. you two would go back and forth but mingyu always gave in to you, paying for your favorite take-out spot or cooking whatever you requested. 

you didn’t want to alert him to your strange behavior, still not sure exactly what was going on, “yeah, come in.” 

the door cracked open and he peeked his head in the steamy room, eyes searching yours for signs of what was wrong. he could sense it, of course he could. 

he entered the room fully now, not reaching out to you, but fingers twitching at his sides begging to touch all your exposed skin. he stayed respectful though, eyes never leaving yours. “um, i ordered your favorite sushi. hope that’s okay.” 

things were awkward, tense. “yeah. thanks.” 

mingyu sighed, “angel, are you okay? things were okay before you took your nap. did something happen? can i fix it for you?” he was desperate for answers, hating this distance between you two suddenly. he’s not even sure what was going on, he just knew you were not okay. 

you looked away from him, “yeah. i’m okay. just have a bit of a headache. i’m hoping this shower will help. thanks for ordering dinner gyu, i’ll be out soon.” you effectively ended the conversation, hoping he’d get the hint and leave. 

he did.  “okay, angel. love you,” he gave you one last lingering look before closing the door behind him. 

you did everything you could to drag the shower out for as long as possible but you knew you were being a bit ridiculous. mingyu didn’t deserve the cold shoulder and you’re not even sure if he did anything beyond having a suspicious phone call. pulling one of his shirts on over your head, you decided it was time to face him. if you stewed in your thoughts any longer you were actually going to go crazy.

the first thing you noticed walking out of the bedroom was the darkness of the apartment. all the lights were off and the sun had set while you were in the shower. had he left? 

“fuck!” 

that one little word pulled you out of your spiral. he hadn’t left, just turned off all the lights? you were confused, wandering down the hall pausing in the doorway to the living room, yep, lights off in there too. as you reached the kitchen you saw mingyu hunched over the kitchen table, trying and failing to light a candle in the middle of the table. one of many candles he had lit, you realized as you looked around the room. there were little candles all over the room, a soft glow illuminating the dark space. you could see that the sushi had arrived and mingyu set the table, making for a much fancier take-out night than you usually had. 

“hey,” you called from the doorway, softly to not scare the big, clumsy man holding a lighter above your dinner. 

he jumped anyway, spinning around to see you. he was apprehensive, nervous energy pouring off of both of you as you eyed each other. neither of you wanted to upset the other, doing this delicate waltz around each other's feelings. 

he smiled despite himself, “hey angel. feeling better?”

“what is all this?” you ignored his question, very confused as to what was going on. 

his hand went to the back of his neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed about all the effort he went to, “well, you said you had a headache so i thought you might like softer lighting in the apartment so your eyes wouldn’t hurt from the overheads.” 

you made him jump a second time when you burst into tears. mingyu stood there looking at you holding your face in your hands, sobs wracking your body, frozen for only a second before he jumped into action, crossing the room in long strides and holding you to his chest. you kept crying, the wet spot on his shirt growing larger and larger.

when your sobs turned to sniffles, he loosened his grip on you. pulling back only enough to look at your face. 

“what is going on, angel? please tell me so i can help.” he was pleading with you, begging even. it hurt him to see you upset like this, especially because he didn’t know what was causing it. 

you couldn’t look into his eyes, instead, you stared at his feet, clad in soft socks, one on either side of yours, caging you in. “why would you do all this for me when you’re keeping secrets?” you sniffled, tears pooling at your lash line, threatening to spill again. 

mingyu blinked, confused, “what are you talking about? what secrets, angel?”

you still couldn’t look at him, “i heard you on the phone earlier. you said, ‘make sure she doesn’t find out.’ what did that mean? and when i asked you who it was you said it was no one. are you keeping secrets from me, gyu?” you felt so small in that moment. all the air around you still as you waited for his answer. 

“angel,” he cooed at you. grabbing your chin and bringing your eyes up to meet his. “you heard me on the phone? that’s what you’ve been upset about this whole time? i didn’t even know you heard that.” 

“you still have not answered my question, mingyu.” 

he winced hearing you use his full name, “angel, i promise you i am not keeping secrets. well, just one. but i was going to tell you soon! it just wasn’t the right time.” 

you tried to back out of his grip but his arms tightened around you, keeping you against him. “we promised not to keep secrets.” 

he laughed, “i can’t exactly tell you about my plan to propose, can i?” 

you went rigid, “you better not be fucking kidding, kim mingyu.” 

“i’m not fucking kidding, angel. that was wonwoo on the phone earlier. he’s been keeping the ring hidden at his place for months. he’s dropping it off tomorrow and we had to coordinate when he could swing by because i didn’t want you to be here. didn’t want to ruin the surprise. guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” he laughed, squeezing you even tighter to him. 

you suddenly felt very stupid. and so guilty. how could you wreck his surprise like this? you felt like crying, “i’m so sorry gyu. i shouldn’t have assumed and now i’ve ruined the whole thing.” 

he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “angel, you ruined nothing. you should’ve just asked me in the first place, though. could’ve saved yourself all this heartache.” 

belly full of sushi, comfort show playing on the tv, mingyu by your side, you have never felt more content. you loved this man so much and you couldn’t wait to be his wife. 

“wait, are you proposing tomorrow?” 

[fangswbenefits]

Discovery

Summary: Miguel tries to fix the damage of his obsession for you, only to discover a secret you’ve been keeping that will change everything…

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 3k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Inexperienced/In*ocent/V*rgin reader. Mast*rbation. Voye*rism (have to thank this anon).

Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous Part

Miguel O’Hara took pride in being able to keep his emotions at check.

For the most part, at least.

But when it came to you, he constantly found his reason at war with his feelings.

The way you were eyeing him expectantly, made his stomach flip.

“Is there something wrong?”

Many things.

For once, he didn’t want to lie to you. However, he dreaded what might happen in case he told you the truth.

Shaking his head, he took your pad in his hands, and glanced over at his watch.

100%

He wanted to just open the file and finally know who this Tom individual was, but he could see a faint frown settle on your face.

“Why can’t I have access to the settings?” you asked, coming to stand by his side to glare at the lit up screen.

He really didn’t want to lie.

“I needed to adjust the prototype first, before giving you full access,” he managed to say.

Great, Miguel.

Your eyes moved to glare at him. “You could have informed me of that.”

He could only nod, he tapped and scrolled through the interface, overriding the block he had placed on it a couple of days ago.

You didn’t seem upset in the slightest. If anything, it you seemed… tired? Sleepy?

“It’s done,” Miguel said, handing the pad back to you. “The interference was probably a mic, by the way.”

As you fought back a yawn, your face twisted into confusion. “A mic?”

Miguel was trying to play it casually, hoping that it would be enough to deflect this issue altogether.

But you… you were not easily detracted.

“Why is there a mic in my suit?”

His heart rate had nearly doubled, and he felt his sweat grow cold as your gaze intensified.

Then, he saw you straighten up as if hit by a sudden realisation.

“You… don’t trust me?” your voice was but a whisper and you started backing away from him. “You’re spying on me?”

Somehow, the conclusion you had drawn was almost as appalling as the truth.

“No! That is not why.”

“Then why?”

Miguel pressed his lips together, and you took his silence as an answer.

“Oh… you really don’t trust me, do you?” you went on, tears welling in your eyes. “I mean… Jessica did tell me you were against me joining Spider Society… I just… thought she wasn’t being serious…”

Miguel stepped closer, feeling a surge of indignation. “That was before I realised your potential!”

You blinked your tears away angrily. “You’re not even denying it.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “I had my doubts at first, yes. Your inexperience, for example. But Jess quickly convinced me to take you in,” he continued, knowing that he sounded desperate at this point. “You are a very talented spider, and I realised that nearly right away.”

Then your eyes widened all of a sudden as if you had just realised something daunting.

Miguel felt his stomach flip, already anticipating more something much worse.

“Oh… oh… you — you sent Jessica to my dimension because of Tom…” you said, visibly shaken. “He’s subject A. You… you… woah!”

Miguel felt control slip through his fingers with each accusation you threw at him.

There was no point denying it, and he didn’t want to lie to you. If anything, he only sought to do damage control.

But your usual calm and sweet demeanor had long vanished.

“Who do you think Tom is?” you said between gritted teeth, clenching your fists at your sides. “Some… some secret weapon against Spider Society? Is that it?”

It was evident from your reaction that he clearly wasn’t that.

“Listen, I d-”

But you immediately cut him off, tears streaking down your face. “You want to know who he really is? Do you?”

In truth, he did. However, not at the expense of your emotional stability. Not like this. Everything was going sideways and he felt petrified.

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll tell you!” you spat, hurt swelling in your voice. “Three days after I got bitten by that spider, I was struggling to get the hang of all the changes.” You began pacing nervously around the room, no longer looking at him. “I was heading toward a robbery site and… Tom was there… the criminals had dynamite and were threatening to blow up the building,” your voice cracked momentarily and you took a deep breath before continuing. “In an effort to get him out of there, I shot my web at his chest, but lost control and balance, and sent him flying across the street as the explosives went off…”

Miguel could only stare from a distance, feeling the frustration in your words.

You halted and glared at him, lips quivering and more tears spilling. “Tom broke his arm and suffered a serious concussion. Because of me.”

He opened his mouth to offer words of comfort, but decided not to interrupt.

“I grew up with Tom. He is — was my best friend,” you sniffled, lowering you gaze. “I even had feelings for him at one point, which was ridiculous… he was too good for me, anyway.”

Miguel took a few steps in your direction, wanting to convince you otherwise, but you immediately retreated away from him.

“Thankfully, he managed to fully recover. No one found out it had been me who caused it in the first place… everyone just assumed it happened because of the explosion…” you mumbled, before crossing your arms and hugging yourself, showing him you had done this multiple times before in search for comfort. “And I was a coward… I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth… so I removed myself from his life.”

A tense silence followed.

Nothing could have prepared Miguel for this revelation, and he couldn’t help but to feel a wave of sympathy for you wash down on him.

You then eyed him. “I don’t want your pity. I deserve this. I was never a decent spider-woman and-”

He quickly stopped you. “That is absolutely not true and you are not a coward.”

“Oh, but I am. When Jessica approached me with the offer to join you, I didn’t even think twice,” you confessed. “I’d do anything to spend as much time away from my dimension as possible.”

“You still perform your duties, as far as I know,” he pointed out rationally.

You let out a pained groan. “Because I have to! I’d much rather stay in the lab, piecing things together and be useful in other ways.”

“You could have told me.”

This time, you frowned and Miguel realised such expression didn’t suit you. At all.

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t have to. This is something I’m ashamed of.” You then pointed at his watch. “Your file won’t tell you any of this, and I really wish you hadn’t gotten involved, because this was my story to tell.”

Your words pierced through him like sharp knives, and he realised he had not only gone too far, but had also managed to hurt you in the process.

“If there is anyone here who understands what you are going through, it’s me,” he began carefully. “I know how it feels to want to do the right thing, only for the consequences to be disastrous.”

He watched your face soften ever so slightly, and you didn’t flinch away from him when he came to stand right in front of you.

“I’m really sorry that I overstepped the line,” he said softly. “I really care about you. That is the reason why I had the mic in your suit and why Jessica went looking for Tom.”

A half-truth, he figured. He couldn’t flat out say the actual reason. How would he even explain that he was obsessed with you? How could that justify any of this?

Simply put, it couldn’t.

And you would resent him.

So, he settled for a half-truth. He did care about you. Immensely. More than he could possibly reason with. But he just couldn’t have you know how much he wanted you to be with him to the point of extreme obsession.

Especially not after discovering this secret of yours.

He had to win you over.

“There is no one who can understand how hou feel better than me,” he whispered, cradling your face in his hands, tilting it enough to have your eyes meet his.

“But… you’re the Miguel O’Hara… you’re so… ” your voiced trailed off.

“Spider Society exists because of my mistake. Many people died at my hands, even if it was unintentional,” said with a sigh. “That is a burden I’ll carry forever with me. What you see here came at a price.”

You swallowed.

“But you don’t have to go through this.”

“How so?”

He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. “You get a chance set things straight. Tom is still alive. I don’t get to have that.”

He would never have Gabriella back. Ever. That was the ultimate price he had to pay.

Your gaze dropped and he saw a couple of tears streaming down your face. “It’s not that simple.”

“It’s not, but it’s still an open door. A choice you have.”

He felt your hands grip his wrists for support, as silence took over you.

“I just wish you’d told me,” he whispered, closing his eyes and planting a kiss to your forehead. “I would have been here for you sooner.”

The effect of his words coupled with the gesture were enough to have you break into a sob, tears streaming down your cheeks, as Miguel held your face with both hands.

This was painful to witness.

He knew all too well how it felt to feel powerless and thinking that you’ve run out of options.

He knew you now. He understood you. Better than anyone ever could.

“I’m… s-sorry…” you mumbled, trying to keep yourself from crying. “You’re… getting all w-wet…”

Miguel couldn’t help but to smile endearingly at your concern, as your tears began to roll down his hands.

“Do not apologise,” he said firmly. “You can cry. I’m here for you.”

Nodding, you opened your eyes again and tilted your had back to stare at him.

“Please s-stay…” you said in between sobs, your hands gripping him tightly. “Please…”

You were killing him.

Little by little.

Miguel would give you everything.

He nodded and you stepped back and let go of him, running the back of your hands across your cheeks to dry them.

Then you went to sit on your couch, removing the clutter of wires and boxes that were in the way.

Miguel spotted a blanket nearby and came to sit by your side, draping it over your shoulders.

You leaned against the backrest, and he followed suit, feeling your head drop to his shoulder.

“Please remove the mic… and delete that file…” you mumbled.

“I will.”

He swung his arm across your from you, to pull you closer to him.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, and Miguel closed his eyes, relieved that he had managed to somehow control the damage he had caused. Unfortunately, it had come at the expense of you having to open up to him, and he felt guilty for that…

He knew he had to prove himself to you, and was grateful that you hadn’t chosen to shut him out completely.

“Somehow… this was sort of cathartic?” your voice was suddenly heard.

Miguel squeezed your arm tenderly.

“I had… never told this to anyone…”

Guilt hit him at once. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be… I think I needed to let it out,” you mused against him.

He couldn’t help but to feel an intense wave of compassion for you. There was no way around it: Miguel was in too deep when it came to you. Everything about you pulled him in and gripped him.

You would always be his sweet girl.

His devotion was yours.

Just yours.

“Hey, Miguel?”

He felt you shift beside him and he looked down to meet your sleepy eyes. “Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Your words didn’t register at first, and he thought he had misheard you.

“What?”

You slipped your feet under you, before leaning slowly into him, face drawing near. “Can I kiss you?”

Denial hit him. “You’re just sleepy.”

But you didn’t back down. “No… I just…” your eyes darted down. “Can I?”

His heart went into a frenzy and he was left speechless. Your eyes were set on his lips and he somehow found the strength to nod.

It took you a couple of seconds to adjust yourself, and once you did, you closed the the gap, parting your lips slightly.

Miguel was left perplexed.

Weeks of yearning and obsession were finally being vindicated.

“Pretty eyes,” you whispered, breath fanning his lips. “So pretty…”

Your noses brushed together and he fought the urge to pull you into his lap at once.

“You’re the pretty one…” he said truthfully.

A smile curved your lips even through your sleepiness. “I’m going to kiss you now, Miguel O’Hara…”

And you did.

The moment your lips met his, Miguel felt his body react. It didn’t take long for the blood to rush down to his cock, slowly stirring it.

He could taste the inexperience on your lips as you kept breaking the kiss to gasp for air. It was blatantly obvious you needed some help figuring out what do next, so he happily obliged.

With one hand he managed to shift your leg to swing across his, and with the other he propped you onto his lap.

You broke the kiss, adjusting yourself and lacing your arms behind his neck and taking his lips again.

This time, he pressed his thumb to your chin, parting your lips, so he could deepen the kiss with his tongue. You immediately complied, and allowed him in with a soft whimper.

Miguel finally tasted you.

His sweet girl.

You came down to press your crotch against his painfully hard cock, and he immediately had to still your hips and lift you slightly.

You broke the kiss again, confusion in your eyes. “What…”

He didn’t dare confess it to you.

Instead, he pressed on your lower back so you would lean into him again with a kiss.

He wanted to taste you, but he couldn’t have you sit on his cock like that… he would absolutely burst.

His sweet girl sounded so sweet and receptive…

He felt you trying to defy his hold on your hips, surely wanting that friction, but he couldn’t afford that.

As much as he wanted to feel you grinding on him, he would be too embarrassed to cum so soon, and that thought was what ultimately prevented him from reaching the point of no return.

He brought one hand to grip your wrist, allowing the top half of his digital suit to disintegrate, so he could place the palm of your hand on his chest, revelling in your heated skin against his.

Suddenly, you parted from him with a gasp. “Wait… I’m…”

He arched an eyebrow in confusion and watched as you snaked your arm in between you two, sliding your hand down your sweatpants.

Miguel’s eyes widened and he was about to lose it until he realised what was really happening.

You slowly removed your hand and glared at it. “Oh.”

Your fingers were drenched in your wetness.

You were soaked.

For him.

He carefully looped his fingers around your wrist, wanting to taste you, but that sent you into an immediate frenzy, and you fumbled to get up from his lap, nearly falling back if not for his incredible reflexes.

“Easy…” he cooed, caressing his thumb along your pulse point. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.”

You tumbled to the side and he let go of you, watching you sit back against the cushioned backrest and looking startled like a deer in headlights.

Just how inexperienced were you?

“Thanks…” you mumbled, chest heaving erratically. “I’m… yeah… and sorry…”

Miguel sat up straighter and arched a brow. “You don’t have to apologise.”

You nodded, your eyes falling to his bulge. “I mean… for that…”

Only you would ever apologise for giving him a raging boner.

His sweet girl…

“Don’t worry,” he reassured, feeling his heartbeat slow down. “Are you okay?”

“Yes…”

He offered a warm smile. “Good.”

Miguel didn’t even know where to begin. He couldn’t quite grasp the events of tonight, and it almost felt like a fever dream.

He was so used to getting hard from just the thought of you, that he couldn’t believe he was now hard because of you.

Still, the way you had reacted when you realised how wet you were for him led him to believe that maybe you were far more inexperienced than he had anticipated.

And he would respectfully give you all the time and space.

He would wait for you to ask him for more.

He could wait. His throbbing cock not so much, but he had other ways of dealing with that.

“Can I use your bathroom?” he asked, adjusting himself over his suit.

Your eyes widened. “Oh…”

“Just to ease some of the tension,” he immediately said.

He was desperate to let his cock spring free, and let it calm down until he was back at his apartment.

You then averted your gaze. “Can you… do it here?”

Miguel was utterly and completely taken aback.

“I… I have never…” you went on, quickly pulling your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, and covering your face. “Nevermind…”

Oh.

Now it all made sense.

“Hey… look at me,” Miguel started, reaching out to tug at your wrist. “It’s okay.”

Slowly, you lifted your head to peer at him with evident hesitation. “Is it too… weird?”

“Not at all.”

And he meant it. By this point, he could feel his cock twitching more often, as more and more precum began to drip from the tip.

“Are you sure?” he asked, needing the absolute confirmation.

You promptly nodded, resting your chin on your forearm, eyeing him intensely.

He paused for a moment, expecting to be jolted away from this dream, or to have you backtrack.

“Please…” you whispered.

Swallowing hard, he allowed himself to sink into the backrest, before having the lower half of his suit disintegrating, and his cock finally released from its confinements.

Your eyes widened and your lips parted.

An instant ego boost that caused him to hiss as he wrapped his fingers around it. His body was so ready for you. Almost too ready. It didn’t take long before Migue felt droplets of precum sliding down his hips.

He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and it only added to the pleasure he felt.

Giving himself a few tentative pumps, he watched closely as you glared at the motion, curiosity splattered all over your face.

The first moans escaped his lips and he nearly slid his eyes shut, trying to stop himself from cumming too quickly.

But he didn’t want to miss out on anything you had to offer.

Miguel soon found a steady rhythm and began to fuck his hands like so many times before. But unlike those other times, he had you as an audience and he knew he wouldn’t last long no matter how hard he tried to muster images of the Vulture to dwindle his impending orgasm.

Then, you shifted closer, your legs dropping, but still pressed together.

He groaned, knowing exactly why you were being so fidgety.

Your hand was clutching at the hem of your shirt as a way to anchor yourself from the visual stimulation.

“You can touch yourself…” Miguel rasped, tightening the grip around himself, precum now flowing down his knuckles.

You pressed your legs tighter together and Miguel had to halt his motion or he would burst.

“…. or not,” he added, not wanting to overstep your line of comfort.

Your eyes darted to his face momentarily and, for the second time, Miguel saw your hand disappear inside your pants. You gasped softly and he could only guess that you must have reached your clit.

You let out the sweetest whimper, and Miguel’s cock twitched immediately.

His chest heaved and he swiped his thumb across the tip of his cock, letting out a groan.

He watched in awe as your arm moved rhythmically, and your eyes fluttered shut.

“Look at me…” he breathed.

You were biting yout lip, but did what he asked.

The urge to replace you hand with his — better yet, his cock — was almost painful and he knew he was heading towards the precipice, having to space out his strokes.

Your gaze fell to his hand. “How’s it so hard?”

He would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire and him being in need of release.

You scooted closer and closer, until your face was mere inches away, while still touching yourself.

For him.

Because of him.

“Why do you think?”

You gasped and he saw your hand slid out of your pants, fingers glistening with your wetness.

“Can… I?”

Miguel was too far gone to deny you of a newfound experience, so he nodded, bracing himself for what was about to happen.

He would burst.

You chewed on your lower lip as if unsure of what to do next, but he wanted you to take your time. A few moments later, you reached down with your soaked hand and he lets go of his cock, welcoming your touch.

He threw his head back and had to muster all of his willpower not to cum right away, as the pads of your fingers tentatively traced the underside of his cock, slowly moving to graze the veins that bulged from under the sensitive skin.

Everything inside him was suddenly burning like wildfire and he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking up.

By the time your thumb reached his tip and grazed slowly, Miguel hissed violently.

“Stop… stop - stop… please-” he begged, but was already being overtaken by the suffocating grip of a powerful orgasm.

You had indeed stopped touching him, but the damage had already been done.

His cock twitched rhythmically as hot spurts of cum began to cover his abs. Witch each roll of his hip, Miguel felt his vision blur and his fangs extend. He groaned your name a couple of times, before his words started to fuse together in a incoherent mess.

The stiffness of his peak shattered after a while and he slumped into the couch, struggling to even out his breathing.

Once he was finally able to open his eyes again, you came into his field of vision, holding a towel in your hands.

“Here,” you said as a smile broke across your face, before sitting by his side and offering it to him.

Even through the haze of an orgasm, Miguel was ablet o feel his heart skip a beat from your tenderness.

He proceeded to clean himself, wiping away the impressive amount of cum that had pooled on his lower abdomen.

“That was…”

His eyes were immediately on you. “Do you want me to…” he trailed off, allowing the not so subtle implication to dangle.

You didn’t catch it at first, but his silent was very telling.

“Oh, no — no, I’m fine, thanks,” you said with a chuckle.

“It’s only fair that I return the favor…”

You shook your head more vehemently this time. “It wasn’t a favor to begin with, Miguel. I was curious and… just wanted to watch you do it,” you mumbled as his digital suit began to cover his body again. “I had never… yeah — I’m still…”

Miguel had his suspicions that you were inexperienced, but he had no ultimate proof of that.

But this… “You’ve never had sex before?”

You settled back on the couch, crossing your legs. “No.”

He wasn’t sure of what to say. Was there even anything he should say?

So, he fell silent, waiting for you to take the lead.

“But… this was an interesting experience,” you eventually went on with a smile. “Do you… regret it?”

“No.”

But he could see doubt already settling on your face. “Maybe it was too much.”

“Not for me,” he said truthfully, straightening up in his seat. “Don’t think that, please.”

You nodded, but Miguel felt a pang of dread spread across his body. The last thing he wanted was for you to regret having opened up to him.

He had been longing for this for far too long to let it all be for nothing.

You were his sweet girl and you had his heart.

“Listen,” he started, set on preventing that from happening. “I can only speak for myself, but that was extremely hot. You are so, so attractive,” he went on, earning a doubting glare from you. “You are. I usually last longer than that.”

Your lips curled into an embarrassed smile, but Miguel could feel his words weren’t exactly reaching you.

Then silence took over.

You kept staring at your hands, head down and humming softly.

“Are you okay?” he shifted closer.

You took a deep breath. “I was thinking about your words earlier…”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

He watched you closely. “And what are you thinking?”

“I think you’re right, Miguel,” you drawled out, your voice but a whisper. “I’ve been blaming myself for what happened to Tom for too long.”

A jab of compassion and empathy tugged at his heartstrings. “You’re absolutely right.”

Then, lifting your head, you met his eyes. “I think… I want to meet up with Tom again. Thank you for making me realise that, Miguel,” you finished with a sweet smile.

Part 6

Masterlist

[iaminsideyourwalls]

Rating the tf2 texture maps while I take a break from drawing

Sniper

8/10

His lips became beautiful honestly but he has the eyes of a petco fancy mouse. Looks like he gets colds really easily

Spy

10/10

Stingrays are my favorite animal!

Soldier

5/10

He's still handsome but this does make him look like winnie the pooh. Just don't wake him up, he needs his rest

Scout

10/10

Still handsome! I never noticed his beautiful picture day side part before. someone please give him a big rainbow lollipop

Heavy

9/10

I don't know how he can be even more handsome when he's been peeled but here we are. Those cheekbones don't take a day off. I had to knock off a point because he kind of looks like that skin lady from Doctor Who

Demoman

7/10

Demoman but wide-... No. He's just not demoman without his eyepatch. Also I think I know where his missing eye went. It was grafted to the side of his neck

Engineer

10/10

EHEHAHHAHAHAHA. HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAA LOOKAT HIM AHAHAHAHHAHAAAAAAAAAA

Medic

0/10

How did this happen? he looks like his soul's been freed by the sweet touch of death.

[ivyasproperty]

Hold me, console me.

natasha.r x fem!reader

summary — good things never come for ex hydra experiments, well that's what you had always thought. but a certain redhead is determined to prove you wrong.

warning(s) : cursing ( just a bit ), some mentions of anxiety

word count : 1.03k

A/N : istg this fic took me FOREVER TO WRITE because i was lazy ( oops ), so i hope you guys enjoy it cuz its kinda sloppy.....

You'd already been apart of the avengers for a few months now, and that meant living in the avengers compound. And even though you've been living with the heroes of New York for the past 7 months, you've always felt out of place in the team. Your team members worked in sync, always backing each other up without needing to vocalize it, but there was you, who struggled to even maintain a conversation with them. That was the main reason why you decided to take less part in missions, and of course Fury bit you in the ass for it, nothing got out of his sight after all, even after losing an eye. But there was also another reason, being an ex-hydra experiment took it's toll on you. You knew you were never the kind of person to harm others, but the words that the guards of doctors at the hydra facilities would yell at you always stayed in the back of your mind and gnawed at you.

ᯓ★

You had once again turned down the offer of helping out in a mission from Steve. He was a nice guy, so it hurt your heart after seeing the worried and upset look on his face. Steve Rogers was the person who had saved you from the hell hole you were raised with, alongside Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Speaking of Natasha, you may or may not have harbored a huge small crush on the said spy after staying at the compound. The confidence that radiated off of her had always inspired you to be better, but you guessed it wasn't enough since you've been locking yourself inside your room for the past few weeks. You could tell your behavior was worrying others, you weren't always the cheery type but you'd at least hang around in the kitchen or joined them for movie night, but as your anxiety became worse, you grew cold and snarky, barely coming out of your room during both day and night.

Tony Stark, being the person he was, wanted to barge into your room and confront you. The others protested but he wouldn't relent, not wanting to hurt his ego after shouting so loudly. But he seemed to shrink into himself a bit after receiving a glare from the redheaded assassin. She was the most worried one out of all your teammates, and rightfully so, considering how she was the one to take care of you after the avengers took you under their wing.

Natasha had knew long ago about the crush you had on her, you were discreet with it yes, but nothing could get past a highly trained assassin. Natasha had tried to brush the fluttery feeling she felt in her belly after finding out, thinking it was just her imagination. But as days went by and you not coming out of your room, she got even more worried, so worried that she had broken into your room once just to check on you. It was then that she realized that she liked you too.

"I'll talk to her, Tony," her voice left no room for an argument as she got up from her seat on the couch and left the room in search of you. Tony had wanted to tag along, wanting to see what was about to unfold but was stopped by a hand gripping strongly onto his wrist. "Leave her be, Stark. She'll know how to handle it, and you need to stop meddling in other people's business." Wanda knew of your struggles, considering how she was also an ex-hydra experiment, so she knew you needed time and space.

Tony being Tony, denied the accusation of meddling in other people's business. Your teammates groaned, done with his shenanigans and left the room, but not before a small banter between them and the big boss.

ᯓ★

Natasha walked to your room in a hurry, not wanting to waste a single second. She knew the way to your room by heart, she always visited you during the night and waited outside your door, just in case you decided to come out of the confinements in your room.

Once she had reached your room, she knocked on your door, calling out your name. She wasn't surprised that there wasn't a response and decided to just pick lock her way through your door. She knew it was wrong but she didn't seem to care anymore. She needed you to come out of your room, she needed to see you.

After she successfully pick locked your door, she was met with you under your covers with trash littered everywhere in your room. It was obvious you weren't taking care of yourself. You noticed a presence in your room and turned to look towards your door, not that surprised at the shocked look on her face that disappeared and was replaced with a worried look. You didn't know why but all the emotions that were bottled up inside of you suddenly burst out and you started sobbing like your life depended on it. Natasha, quickly breaking out of her stupor, ran to your side to console you.

"It'll be alright, I'm right here, malysh." You didn't know how long your cried for, you didn't care how long you cried for. Natasha was there for you and you didn't care about anything else but that.

After calming down and drying your tears, she cupped your cheeks and placed her lips on yours. Your eyes went wide in shock, not knowing what to do. You could feel her smile against your lips, amused in your reaction. "You'll be alright, I''ll always be here to help you through it, alright?" You could feel tears welling up in your eyes again, but for a completely different reason.

Even though you knew it'd take time for you to feel like you were a part of the team and open up about it to them, you didn't seem to dwell on the matter. Your mind was somewhere else as confessions were whispered into the dead of night into your bedroom with your lover, that you knew would be there to hold you and console you, even in your worse times.

A/N : NO BC THIS IS SO BAD IM CRYING, i regret being lazy and procrastinating on this one bc it turned out so rushed to me, but i hope you guys still enjoyed it >< feel free to leave requests anytime!!!!!

[sorryimananti-romantic]

New World

crownprince!hongjoong x royalphysician!reader

psychopath power hungry prince hj x psychopath delulu spy doctor reader who kill (literally) for each other

dni if you're not comfortable with this trope.

word count: 27k

genres and warnings: unhinged fluff only, angst, smut (mdni!) they're both pyschopaths, morally black atp, skewed thinking, violence and murder warnings, manipulation at its finest, reader is a bit delulu but so is joong, kinda tragic

synopsis: you've always known the crown prince was just a little power hungry, however, when you offer to kill the king for him as part of your big scheme to end the monarchy, you didn't realise he'd be ecstatic about it. while you etch out an elaborate plan to get more obstacles out of the way, you start enjoying his company just a little too much. it ultimately clouds your judgement and becomes the cause of your downfall, though... if you go down, he goes down with you :D

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (just two simps for dom hongjoong what's new)

Red might just be your favourite colour.

Red was the colour of blood. Red was the colour of anger, desire and power. Red was the colour of the loveliest roses that decorated this castle, and red was the colour of Wonderland’s flag. Red was the colour of the badge that the soldiers wore at all times, as well as the colour of rubies that were your favourite stone and a staple of royal jewellery.

Red was also the colour of royal regalia. And oh, Prince Hongjoong absolutely owned that colour. It looked like red was made for him. Everything he did was red. His actions, his aura, his charms, they exuded red. The way he walked, the way he laughed or smirked, the way his expressions would change in a matter of milliseconds… everything was red. He breathed in that colour and made it his own. 

Red just so happened to be the colour that clear drug now turned into when you added a few drops of the new opium compound you had gotten your hands on when you went shopping in the black market. As the royal physician, you had the privilege of accessing the black market without repercussions, so you got a little of everything that would be considered ‘dangerous’ or ‘illegal’. Your sole duty as the royal physician was to make advances in medicine and make sure the royalty remained healthy.

Though… there wasn’t much left to worry about. The Queen had passed away when you were still an assistant a few years ago. The King, well, he was unfortunate enough to be suffering from a heart condition. You did everything in your power (though that could be argued) to keep his pain and suffering at bay but with each passing day, his health deteriorated even more.

And that left Prince Hongjoong- the young crown prince, loved by some but feared by all. With his striking platinum hair and a permanent glare, he was as cold as he appeared to be. The man only cared about swiftness and rationality in each decision he made, disregarding the suffering of his people and their woes. He claimed that a ruler had to be strict and authoritative for his kingdom to prosper, and his ideology had always conflicted with his father's, which was why the people of Wonderland dreaded the day when the King would pass away and the Crown Prince would take over.

You smiled to yourself as the solution became red, confirming that it worked. You had just mixed a few ingredients to make a new pain reliever. You only needed to test it out now-

And who better to test it on than the dying King? Sure, maybe it was too strong, in which case he would probably succumb to numbness and his breathing might stop. He had one foot in the grave anyway. But if it worked, he would probably grace you with more privileges. It was a win-win situation. 

You didn’t hate the King, no. In fact, he trusted you a lot- maybe a bit more than he should. He had recognised how brilliant a physician and researcher you were early in your career and had appointed you as the royal physician himself. He depended on you a lot, as you did on him, and his fatherly affection sometimes almost made you crack and forget what you really wanted.

What you really wanted was to see the crown prince become the king, even if it was just for a day. You wanted to be the person to make it happen for him. You wanted to be trusted by him and you wanted him to depend on you. You wanted to be the person that would lead him to the crown that was rightfully his. You wanted to fulfil his deepest desire- you wanted him to rule, even if only for a day.

Because then, you would take the final step and free the Kingdom of Wonderland from its last-standing tyrannical ruler.

But the King- the old man. He just wouldn’t die. And that was making the both of you frustrated.

As you poured the new drug in a vial, signing the register to record today’s progress, you put the vial in the first-aid box and took off your apron, hanging it on the knob next to the shelves that lined the walls of your workshop. You straightened your deep green velvet gown and made sure the pearls adorning your neck looked perfect. Tucking some stray hair behind your ears and smirking at your reflection, pleased with the way you looked tonight, you picked up the box and left the medical chamber, walking towards the residential section of the castle where the royalty resided. 

The King hated staying in the infirmary so you had fulfilled his wishes and created a setup in his bedroom. Your assistants looked after him throughout the day and you would drop by multiple times to check on him, hoping to get a sight of the painfully handsome prince. 

Sometimes, you caught the Prince lounging with a book or a smoke, or swirling the wine in his glass. It sparked red in you- red for desire. You weren’t sure if that desire inside you was for him or his position or power- or the desire to simply end him as planned by the Master and move to the next phase of your life- but oh, how you wished he would look at you with something other than contempt in his eyes. You knew he disliked you because you were prolonging his father’s life and preventing him from taking the crown.

You were. You were doing exactly that. You wouldn’t kill the King until he would really look at you. You couldn’t simply tell him that, so you would have to take a risk that could end up with your head in the lunette, ready for execution.

You greeted the royal guards before you knocked on the door of the main chamber and the Prince’s aide, Mingi, opened the door and let you in.

“Good evening, Doctor,” the tall man let you in with a smile and you bowed in greeting before you entered, glancing around the living room for any signs of the prince but finding none. Mingi shut the door behind you and with a nod, you went towards the king’s bedroom, knocking before entering. 

The old man was reading some reports, round glasses perched on the tip of his nose. Even though he looked pale and his eyes looked lifeless, he looked as posh as ever with his greying hair neatly combed back and face freshly shaven. Upon noticing you, he set the reports aside and greeted you with a smile.

“How do you do, Doctor?” He asked and you pulled the stool near him, settling down.

“Just the usual, but I have some good news for you,” you said and when his face lit up, you shook your head. “You must tell me how you’ve been feeling first.”

“Well… I think the pain wasn’t as bad today, but I still can’t seem to walk around too much. I lose my breath too quickly.”

“I might have something for that,” you said. Routinely, he extended his wrist and you checked his pulse, listened to his heart with a stethoscope and checked his eyes. After making sure his vitals were normal, you told him about the new drug.

“It is an opium compound, so I’m not sure how different it will be, but I hope it will get better rather than worse.”

“Can’t get any worse than this,” the King sighed and you almost tsk-ed.

“It can get worse, but I’m here to prevent that,” you assured and the King nodded. “There is a risk factor, though.”

“And like always, I’ll take it,” he agreed, sitting straighter. After administering his routine medicines and skipping the ones that could hinder this new drug’s effect, you made him drink a spoonful of the red liquid. His mouth contorted as the bitterness of the drug spread across his tongue and then he took a deep breath.

“I’ll have the nurses monitoring the effects of this drug tonight, but if anything feels strange, you can have the guards send a message to me.”

“Thank you,” the King said and you bowed, exiting his room and making a turn-

And almost bumping into none other than the Crown Prince.

The Crown Prince Hongjoong, looking regal even in his plain black silk nightwear. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and you bowed in greeting, stepping aside and about to leave when he cleared his throat, making you stop.

“How is the King’s condition?”

You smirked internally before turning to face him. “Not better… not worse either.”

Prince Hongjoong narrowed his eyes and you sighed. “It’s because the drugs won’t work. I’ve administered a new one tonight, and I have hopes.”

What kind of hopes, he didn’t need to know.

“You always say that, yet my father is still bedridden.”

You noted his use of the term ‘father’. He always employed that term carefully, and you weren’t sure if anyone else had noticed that. 

“Well, it’s a bit… risky this time,” you began, testing the waters and when he raised his brow in curiosity, you knew you had him. “He might get worse before he gets better. Or… he may never recover if it doesn’t suit him.”

“Yet you still administered that drug to the King?”

There. He was now ‘the King’.

“The King,” you began, emphasising the word, “took a leap of faith in me and the drug if that means he could get better one day.”

The Prince nodded in understanding, about to go to his room.

“However,” you said in a low voice, looking around to make sure no one was in sight. Hongjoong turned to hear the rest of it, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of concealment. 

You took a few steps forward- tonight, the wheels of your big plan would start to turn. You purposely stepped a little closer than he would have liked and whispered, “I’ll tell you- the King shouldn’t be taking such risks at his age, and with his condition.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hongjoong asked in a whisper as if what you had shared was a secret.

You only shrugged, feigning innocence. “Who knows? If you really want answers though… maybe you could let me access the private library first.”

With that, you bowed and left, leaving the prince baffled. He opened the door of his father’s bedroom just a fraction and saw his brows furrowed in pain as he rested, the nurse paying no attention and instead more focused on knitting.

Hongjoong went to his room and found himself going over the conversation he had with you over and over again. He couldn’t help but recall previous instances of when you told him- and only him, he had noted- how his father could get worse or better depending on the situation.

Were you actually intending to tell him that you had his health, even his life, in your control? Had he been too oblivious of his royal physician’s actions and words? Had he underestimated you? He knew you were a good doctor- you were a renowned physician throughout the Capital. But were you offering him the controls?

The private library- he wondered what you intended to find there. Maybe he would give you a chance to prove yourself to him. Hongjoong smirked into the night sky, peering down at his kingdom from the height- perhaps, you were the weapon he needed to wield in order to get to the throne.

And if you were… 

Finally, the crown prince started to feel a new surge of hope and desire. Hope for the new world he wanted to create as soon as he could sit on the throne, and desire for that power.

Hongjoong saw red before his eyes as he shut them, letting the light breeze blow through his hair and caress his skin. He wasn’t sure if his grim laughter was echoing inside his head or being carried by the wind for the world to hear.

—------------------------------------

You were starting to wonder if your plan had not worked. 

The past week, you simply checked on the King and kept administering the same new drug that you now called ‘ruby’. It was a bit ironic to call it ruby, you thought. Ruby was Wonderland’s staple stone and what better name for a drug that would end the life of Wonderland's king? It was a shame no one could share the sentiment- when your assistants asked why you called the drug ruby, you simply answered that it was because of the colour.

Prince Hongjoong seemed like he was avoiding you on purpose. Maybe he was not interested in what you had to offer. You were pretty sure he got the message- the King was at your mercy and could be at the Crown Prince’s mercy if he wished so. However, he didn’t acknowledge your presence the few times you crossed paths with him within the week. A small part in your brain said that maybe you had made a mistake and he was being cautious. Maybe you should have never revealed all of that- maybe you had doomed yourself. If he suspected you of foul play, he could have you executed for treason. Maybe the Hongjoong did possess a functioning heart under all those layers of thorns. Yours had long been numb.

But maybe, just maybe, he was weighing his options. Could he trust you, the royal physician, a respectable doctor and medical researcher? Were you planning a trap for him- was it the King’s doing? Did the King suspect that his son really wanted him dead? Did one of his uncles, the Dukes, plant you here as a spy? They were interested in the throne- at least the older one of them, the Duke of Neverland Prince Woobin, was.

And why did you need to access the private library anyway? That was what kept nagging at Hongjoong’s mind. The private library was not attached to the main library but was located in the part of the castle that accommodated the royal residents. The only people allowed to access that library were those of royal blood. It mostly held archives related to court orders and the royal family history. Whatever could a doctor need in there?

With all these thoughts plaguing the prince’s mind, he found himself making way to the medical chamber after dinner accompanied by his aide, Mingi. Mingi asked if he was feeling alright but Hongjoong only said he wanted to ask you a few things regarding his father’s medication and that he was hoping to get something for his own insomnia. That relaxed his aide a bit- Mingi had been by Hongjoong’s side for a solid decade now and while they shared the same opinions on many things, Hongjoong still wasn’t sure if Mingi really agreed with his political views.

Hongjoong dreamt of big things. He was a dreamer and a doer, which he supposed was not an odd combination but a rare one- people usually had to give up one or the other. He, however, was not going to bow to this world- the world was going to bow to him. That was the world he aimed to create where he would be the ruler, where he would allow people to dream within his constraints. To him, there was no such thing as freedom. Freedom was simply a word to fool people into believing that they possessed the right and control over their life. Sure, Hongjoong was a slave to this word too. He dreamed to be free-

Free of the title of crown prince. Free of the title prince. He abhorred that word now- he wanted to be the king. He wanted the freedom to rule. And you- you had just offered him a shortcut, if he was right about this. 

Hongjoong was greeted by a few doctors at the workshop, the three of them moving around nervously and almost tripping on each other as they straightened and asked what brought the Prince all the way to the medical chambers- he could have sent a message. Hongjoong said he simply wanted to observe and check the progress of his doctors. One of them offered to take him to you, to his relief, and he followed the physician to the other end of the workshop which led to the room right next to the storage.

“That’s where the Head Physician usually works- she prefers a corner so she can experiment in peace- and it’s also to avoid involving others in any possible accidents,” the physician said, fiddling with his fingers as Hongjoong nodded. “I- I’ll alert her.”

Hongjoong watched with intrigue as the young physician carefully turned the knob so as to not make a single sound and slipped inside with light footsteps. Hongjoong peeked through the gap and realised you had your back against them. The physician waited for you to set all the equipment in your hands on the table before he cleared his throat and you turned to him.

“The Prince is here to uh, see you- your progress.”

“The Prince,” you breathed, your gaze going towards the door and you thought you spotted the familiar blonde hair. “Where is he?”

“Right outside.”

“Goodness, Jeongin, let him in then, don’t keep him waiting!” your eyes widened as you shooed the physician away and with the few seconds you had, you rubbed the stains on your hands and cleared the table in front of you. 

“Doctor,” his voice sounded, the door clicking behind him as Jeongin gave you both some space. 

“Your Highness,” you curtsied, your heart beating erratically and a bit too loudly- this was the first time you were in private with the Prince, after all. “What brings you here?”

“Just thought I’d check up on you,” the Prince narrowed his eyes as he walked past the counter with various vials of drugs and medicine arranged on them. He stopped near the ruby red liquid that he now recognised as his father’s recent prescription. “Any progress regarding the King’s health?”

“Surprisingly, he’s getting adjusted to the low doses quite well,” you said, noting the tiniest twitch of his facial muscles. “I will start increasing the dose in two days and see how he responds.”

“You mentioned a risk last time,” he raised his brow slightly as he locked eyes with you, seating himself on the very stool you had been sitting on just earlier. The proximity made you restrain a shiver, the cold countertop digging at your back providing a sense of relief in the form of familiarity. “I’d like you to elaborate.”

Got him.

Suppressing a smile, you obeyed. “Usually, I gradually increase the dosage and see how the King’s body reacts. The heart… it is a complicated organ and there are a lot of factors that can influence the working of the drug. Sometimes, the body ‘rejects’ a medicine which means we can’t have the patient take that anymore. The rejection can be due to age or some other factors.”

“And this new drug- ruby, you’re calling it?” Hongjoong asked, gaze darting over where the red vial was. “What’s so special about this?”

“Well,” you took a moment to find the right words to answer. “It’s more of a drug than a medicine, for starters. Addiction might be a side-effect but before that, there’s more to worry about. His body may look like it’s adapting and then all of a sudden, it could reject the drug and his condition could get worse.”

“Will there be any signs to indicate such a thing?” 

“I will answer that…” you leaned forward. “But first, I would like to access the private library.”

“And whatever would a royal physician find useful in the library?” The Prince asked, fiddling with the gold button on his black jacket. “It’s full of cobwebs and dust.”

“And a treasure of useful information,” you quipped.

The Prince gave you a threatening look and you sighed. “Alright, there are two reasons I want to access the library. I can only tell you one- that I want to check the family registers and private journals for any signs that this may be hereditary disease. That information is going to benefit you, and that’s my only purpose.”

“And the other reason?” He frowned, not really caring that you wanted to check for his sake. You supposed as a royal physician, it was your duty and he had nothing to be grateful for.

But your reason was still the same.

“I can’t tell you the other reason, because I’m not sure I’ll find anything about it and I don’t want to give you false hope,” you said and that got his attention. “But… if I do find something… you’re going to have to speed up the preparations for your coronation.”

Realisation dawned on Hongjoong’s face and he instinctively looked around before he stepped off the stool and walked towards you with heavy steps. “Do you hear yourself right now?”

“Loud and clear,” you smirked, taking off the mask because there was no need to show him anything but the truth now. “You want this. You want the throne, and I am your loyal subject. My only reason is to have you sit on the throne instead of one of the King’s brothers.”

Confidential information. How did the royal physician know that the King wanted to delay his son’s coronation and instead pass the hierarchy to one of his two brothers? The conflict between the King and Hongjoong was not news- they didn’t see eye to eye on many things and that was public knowledge. But how did you know all of that? 

Or was it so obvious, Hongjoong wondered, that the King did not want his son to take over the throne so soon? If the whole world was against his coronation, why were you presenting yourself as a loyal subject?

“We’ll talk about this later,” the Prince said in a low voice, pointing his finger at you. It unsettled him to see you stand so sure before him. He opened his mouth to say more but couldn’t find the words.

“I’m just a tool for you to use as you please,” you gently lowered his finger, watching his eyes flicker with surprise. “And I’m only doing this for you. Keep that in mind. Have a good night, Your Highness.”

—-----------------------------------

A tool for him to use as he pleased.

And if you wanted to prove your loyalty so bad, he would use you. He would exhaust your services until you had nothing more to offer. But first, Hongjoong needed to find out just what was so interesting about the family tree that you were tracing your finger along the lines that marked his ancestry. 

While you said nothing about him watching you from a distance like a hawk, when you opened one of the registers and your features twisted from concentration to satisfaction, he craned his neck to read the title. 

“Why are you looking at the death registers?”

“So I can learn how the King can die,” you said, watching the confusion on his face change to intrigue. “And how to avoid it.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart,” the Prince said. “Are you really doing all of this to save the King?”

“I told you, but since we’re in private, we can talk more freely here,” you set the register on your lap, taking a deep breath. “So ask me whatever you want.”

“How did you know about the King considering one of my uncles to take over?”

“I have a few drugs that I sometimes slip in to make him talk,” you folded your arms. “And he’s quite a talker, your father.”

“How can you, a royal physician,” Hongjoong began, almost fuming at the thought, “abuse your power to make the King talk?”

“And why are you, the Crown Prince, not doing anything despite the knowledge of my medical malpractice? Clearly, you’re interested in what I have to offer.”

“I don’t need your loyalty,” Hongjoong shook his head, his platinum hair catching the moonlight through the patterned window behind him when he moved. “The throne belongs to me. Sooner or later, I will take over.”

“Unless your father announces that he likes the Duke of Neverland too much,” you countered. “Or the Duke of Mist Island. He may be a bit slow but he’s got better manners than you. Clearly you’re the least favourite.”

That was what made the Prince laugh mockingly. Though it was just him recovering from the blow that you delivered, you finally made him laugh and that was enough. 

“So, Miss Doctor,” the Prince said almost tauntingly. “What are your recent findings?”

“You won’t be sending me for execution after, will you?” You asked jokingly, though a small part in your heart was scared that you were absolutely wrong about the Prince. 

“That depends on the information I learn tonight,” he made himself clear. “I cannot have the royal physician murdering the King claiming that it was for the Crown Prince. Not a good look for me.”

You agreed, passing him the family tree and pointing at the death register. “These are the official medical records which are in the main library as well. But these parts-” you pointed at the red ink. “That’s information that was never made public. Abnormalities noticed during the treatment of your grandfather who suffered from the same disease as your father. Notice how opium was used for treatment for a few weeks?”

Hongjoong skimmed through the notes, finding an unnamed opium compound mentioned in the treatment section. “And what’s odd about opium being used as a medicine?”

“That they stopped within a few weeks but administered it again- look at how it’s scratched, but the symptoms I’m observing in your father now are similar to your grandfather’s even after they apparently stopped using this opium compound. I asked around and found out which ingredients were used and attempted to replicate this drug for your father. Ruby.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nodded in realisation. “But why would they stop mentioning the drug- oh, they wouldn’t.”

The air suddenly felt grim as Hongjoong realised that there was a chance that medical malpractice or perhaps, bad intentions were what took his grandfather’s life. “Who was the royal physician at that time?”

“No longer alive,” you told him. “Otherwise I would have confronted him. I do suspect that he never recorded this because he was afraid he would be blamed for His Majesty’s death. There’s also the possibility that one of his sons had a hand in this, though your father was unfazed when I told him that I was treating him with opium.”

Hongjoong cracked his neck, an amused look on his face. “One of my uncles then, huh?”

“Just pure speculation, but my bet is on the doctor making a mistake and realising too late,” you told him.

“So, Doctor,” Hongjoong got up and walked ever so slowly around the table, coming to stand right in front of you. “What do you intend to do about this?”

“Well, now I know that the symptoms of this drug wreaking havoc on the body mimic natural symptoms of the disease, so even if the King keeps using this and, well, dies… I can blame it on his poor health.”

“What do you get out of crowning me?” The Prince whispered, bringing his hand up to hold you by the jaw and even though his grip was gentle as he tilted your face up, you could feel the power exuding from him anyway. It didn’t help that he looked absolutely ravishing like this and you could feel the flimsy shreds of self control falling apart by each second-

You needed to remember that you were here, that you were the Master’s spy, that you were doing this for the ultimate goal. To save Wonderland. You could not be distracted by something as mere as feelings.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I only want you to be the King?” You asked. “Is it so hard to believe that someone actually wants you to rule Wonderland with all their heart?”

“That makes no sense-”

“I want you,” you tested, a shiver running down your spine when his gaze darkened. “I want you to let me keep my post and let me make advances in medicine. I want you to fund my research and allow me to expand my network- even in the black market. I want you to cover me if I make a mistake and in return… I’ll be at your service, however you want. I will get rid of anyone you want.”

He could hear the sound of his heart thumping wildly between his ears. He could hear your breath and feel a whisper of it on his wrist. He could see the dangerous gleam in your eyes and he knew that you were a force to be reckoned with. How had he missed it? How did you appear so normal throughout all those years? He only ever suspected you of maybe fancying him because quite a few times, he had caught you watching him with something that resembled fascination, but now he was finding that it might be obsession. 

A tool for him to use as he pleased. Someone who would do whatever he wants.

Though you weren’t sure if what you said was just a lie or you actually meant some part of it, it clearly had an effect on the Prince. 

Hongjoong brought his thumb to caress the skin near your lips, watching you react under his touch. It was clear as day to him that you wanted him in more ways than you were letting on, perhaps more than even you yourself were aware of. He swiped his thumb across your lower lip, watching your mouth part and your gaze expectant.

Hongjoong kept his thumb pressed on your lip as he bent down to meet your eyes, his face inches away from yours. You held your breath, your heart doing little flips that made you want to crawl away from him. He stared at you for a few moments.

“You will do as I say, whenever I say, whatever I want. Is that clear?” He ordered and you nodded. “For now, you will keep administering ruby to keep the King alive. We don’t want his health to deteriorate all of a sudden. I want you to learn the King’s intentions- who he really wants to crown and for what reasons. I’ll only hear what comes out of his mouth, not your silly little speculations. Make him talk.”

“Understood… Your Highness.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, trailing his finger down your chin and tracing the outline of your jaw, trailing it down the angle of your neck and leaving goosebumps along your skin. He locked eyes with you as if to dare you to stop him but you only sat still, though he could swear you bent back just a fraction to allow him better access. He played with the pearls on your neck for a moment, trailing his finger down the middle of your chest until they met your collar, dangerously close to the hollow between your breasts.

With a teasing look and a smirk on his lips, he pressed at that spot before backing away. You took a moment to calm down before you shut the registers and put them back on the shelves, agreeing to meet here the night after tomorrow again. As soon as you were in the darkness and comfort of your room, you slumped down on the bed, exhaling.

You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin. You could still feel his eyes boring into you. You could still feel the warmth of his breath caress your face.

And while you were overwhelmed with desire, there were more important matters at hand-

Finding out what the King wanted. You would make him talk and deliver the information to the Prince to prove your loyalty and service to him.

You could only hope he would really look at you and believe what you told him. That was necessary for your plan to actually work. You hoped he would think that all you wanted was to excel as a royal physician and medical researcher. You hoped he would understand that only he possessed the power to make that happen. And when he would let his guard down, that would be when you would strike. 

You picked the mattress to move one of the bed planks, revealing a box that contained paper and ink. Using the clear ink on the sandy paper with a bluebird on the corner, you began to write the first message after months of silence.

“The arrow has escaped the bow and is flying towards the target, slowly but surely. The wielder should start preparing for the aftermath.”

—------------------------------------

“How are you feeling, Your Majesty?” You asked, hand around his wrist to check his pulse, noting down the readings as he shuffled.

“Fine for the most part, but I feel lightheaded at times.”

“No changes in his diet?” You asked the nurse assigned to the King and she shook her head no. “Must be the drug then. Is it bearable?”

“For now,” the King confirmed, his eyes darting towards where his son stood at the corner of the room with his arms folded and a deadpan stare. The King shifted uncomfortably yet again and you shot a glare at the Prince which he caught, huffing and looking elsewhere. “Does he have to be present here?”

“Does he make you uncomfortable?” You asked nonchalantly, comparing your readings with the last few days and noticing a pattern. “He’s worried about your health.”

The King grunted. “As if.”

“More worried than your brothers you adore so much,” the Prince mocked. “I don’t see them inquiring about your health. At all.”

“Aren’t you just waiting to hear bad news?” The King asked and when Hongjoong was about to retort, you raised your hand in the air.

“I would appreciate it if you don’t rile him up, Prince Hongjoong,” you said politely. “Your Majesty, you should avoid stressing about your health so much. Have you been taking your morning walks?”

The nurse cleared her throat and you looked at her. “He’s missed two days in a row.”

You turned to look at the King who appeared guilty. “I’m feeling sluggish lately. It’s harder to get up in the morning.”

You noted that- could this be ruby’s doing? Shutting your register, you got up and talked to the nurse while the father and son argued a bit more about the Prince’s unusual presence and the King’s unusual love for his brothers. When you took your leave, the Prince accompanied you all the way to the main door and just when you were about to leave, he looked around to make sure no one was within earshot.

“I thought I asked you to keep the King healthy-”

You clicked your tongue and grabbed his wrist to pull him to your right so the nurse who just exited the King’s room wouldn’t notice the look on the Prince’s face. “Can you be more obvious? We shouldn’t be talking about this here- and it’s not my doing, by the way.”

The Prince looked at you with scepticism and before he could snatch his wrist from your grip, you let go of it yourself. You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he formed a response. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” the Prince promised almost threateningly and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Tonight. Library. Mingi will accompany you.”

You huffed in response, glancing at his aide who came to inspect what the noise was about. Bowing mockingly, you exited the chamber and made way towards your room near the medical chamber. 

You were about to make a turn to the left when you bumped into a guard who was carrying some documents and you apologised, squatting down to pick up the pages that he dropped. While collecting them and exchanging more apologies, you thought you spotted a familiar stamp but the guard was immediately on his way after thanking you. You took only two steps before you realised-

It was the bluebird stamp.

You kept walking, the Master’s bitter tone ringing in your ears reminding you to keep moving forwards and remain unfazed. It took a lot of effort to keep a straight face because after months of radio silence, you finally saw a sign that the bluebirds were here. They were in the castle and they had not abandoned you.

However, when you picked your mattress to take out the box and saw a letter inside, the contents of the letter made sweat ooze out of your pores even when you felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you. You were once again reminded that the bluebirds were a very extensive network with eyes and ears everywhere.

But how did they know what happened inside the private library? You and Hongjoong were the only ones present. The short message in the letter seemed to suggest as if they had taken a peek inside your heart at your most vulnerable moment.

“Do not lose sight of the real target. Do not get distracted. Pleasure is temporary. Freedom can be eternal.”

The two hours that you waited for the Prince’s aide to knock on the door had to be the longest of your life. You simply sat on the chair biting your nails unceremoniously as you tried to figure out just who in the castle or the Prince’s closest companions could be the part of the rebel group that was the core of your identity.

The bluebirds, trained by one Master whose face had always been hidden behind a mask, whose voice was a command itself. Your parents were a part of that group, but you could hardly call them parents because as soon as you were able to walk on your own and think without guidance, your training started. You learned the art of disguise, trickery and manipulation. You learned science and medicine until you started achieving things on your own. You were no one special, though. You were just another spy who was in the castle, disguised as someone of importance. Any doubts about you being alone in the castle were gone now. 

You were wondering if the Prince was aware of the existence of your group- it was a secret underground rebel group but it had been active for decades now. The bluebirds were slowly but surely infiltrating the government bodies and were directly or indirectly responsible for some of the major policies that influenced the kingdom. 

When the knock sounded on the door, you sighed in relief and got up to open the door to Mingi and you greeted him with a nod, grabbing your keys and locking the room behind you. He accompanied you to the royal chamber in silence until you were almost there and he cleared his throat. 

“Is there a reason you have to access the private library so often?”

You narrowed your eyes purposely as he glanced at you. “Ask your prince? He doesn’t have to be present- I’m just looking for something that can help me with the King’s treatment.”

“Are you sure you’ll find that there?” He asked, taking a turn towards the corridor that led to the library. “I mean… have you looked in the main library?”

“Yes, and yes,” you said. “I’ve gone through everything before asking the Prince for permission to access the private library.”

“If you’re looking for medical related stuff, you should look for the archives in the public library here in the Capital too,” Mingi suggested and you perked up at that. “Anything of importance that is no longer in the castle can be found there.”

“If it is of importance, why would it be no longer in the castle?” You wondered.

“Rebels used to raid libraries about twenty years ago, if you remember your history,” Mingi answered. “Whatever was recovered went to the public library instead of back here.”

Now that was something you had not been aware of. If important archives and documents had been stolen, why were they at the public library instead of at the castle? And more importantly, was it the bluebirds that carried out these attacks? If it was the bluebirds, why had no one told you? You could have visited the public library with ease any time.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll make sure to visit the public library the next time I step out of the castle.”

Mingi smiled in response and extracted a key out of his pocket, unlocking the wooden carved door that opened to the library. “The Prince is inside. I’ll be on my way then.”

You nodded and stepped inside the dark room, letting the aide shut the door behind him as he left. You walked towards the window which was the only source of light- did the Prince not bother lighting any candles while he was inside-

There was a sole candle on the table where you had sat a few nights ago with Hongjoong when you checked the family tree. Hongjoong was nowhere to be found though, so you started walking past the shelves, looking to spot the man-

And trying your hardest to swallow a scream when he appeared out of nowhere, though he was quick to grab your arms to avoid a collision.

“Easy there,” he said, sounding amused. Probably because you were positive all the colour left your face. 

Well, if it had, it sure returned with a flush when you noticed how close you were to the Prince and how human he looked in the moonlight now that he wasn’t wearing his permanent scowl and his hair wasn’t styled to perfection. The tendrils falling on his forehead over his eyes created a soft look. It wasn’t always that the Prince looked anything less than menacing so you got a good look at him before wriggling away.

“Sorry, but you could have lit a few more candles. It’s pretty dark here.”

“We avoid candles. Don’t want to risk a fire, which is why it’s usually optimal to access this room when the sun is out.”

“Can’t go around scheming during the day though, can we?” You said casually though the comment made the Prince chuckle darkly. It looked like he was finally coming to terms with you- and himself. 

“Doesn’t seem like the daytime would be a hindrance for you,” the Prince put his hands in the pockets of the black slacks he was wearing. “Did you switch the drug? Why is the King feeling off?”

“I need to research a bit more to answer that,” you folded your arms. “I don’t control the way his body reacts to the drug. If it seems like ruby will deteriorate his health at a rapid pace, I might have to stop administering that drug to him.”

“Lower the dose then,” he ordered. “Or do you have a better alternative?”

“A better alternative to what?” You dared to ask, earning an annoyed look. “Do you want the King alive and healthy for as long as possible?”

Hongjoong cocked his head- did you really want to hear it from his mouth?

“Or… do you want his health to decline such that it would seem natural?” You scoffed at the way he glared at you. “Surely, you must have made up your mind by now.”

“I asked you to keep the King healthy,” he practically spat. “And I asked you to make him talk.”

“I think he dislikes your presence a little too much, Prince,” you snickered. “I actually slipped a few drops of verita tonight. A harmless little thing, only makes you a bit hazy so that you start saying things you wouldn’t otherwise. And oh, the only thing he had to say was that you’re just waiting for him to die.”

“Yeah, well, that is the sad truth,” he said mockingly, glancing towards the window. “He won’t talk in front of me. I suspected that.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me then,” you said, moving past him to go to the last shelf which contained the rest of the medical records of the royal family that you hadn’t had the chance to access yet. “I do think he’s aware that he doesn’t have much time. Isn’t the Duke of Neverland visiting soon?”

“Next week, yes. Bet he’ll be over the clouds to see my father dying especially when he learns that he’s in his good graces.”

“Well… that’s how I’m here to help,” you glanced at him. “I was thinking… your father was the crown prince, which means he probably didn’t visit your grandfather much when he was ill. He must have been too busy trying to keep the kingdom stable and running.”

“That’s right,” Hongjoong agreed. “I recall my grandfather complaining how he never made time for him.”

“And it’s a known fact that the Duke of Neverland tried to snatch the title of crown prince. Tried to coerce his father. Didn’t work, did it?”

“He was let off with a warning, and now he’s after me.”

“He must have visited your grandfather a lot then,” you brought the medical register that you had checked a few nights ago back to the table. “The royal physician who treated your grandfather is no longer alive, but the Duke of Neverland must know something about the treatment. You have to keep an eye on him and watch his reaction carefully when it is revealed that ruby is being used to treat the King.”

Hongjoong frowned. “Do you suspect that he had something to do with it?”

“I do,” you admitted. “Especially because he’s been coveting your title. He might have meddled with the late King’s treatment- it’s just an assumption for now, but it is strange how the late King suddenly passed away.”

The Prince nodded slowly and you could see that he was trying to connect the dots. You cleared your throat, catching his attention.

“I also plan to visit the public library in the city soon. Your aide Mingi told me that I may find something of importance there.”

Hongjoong wasn’t surprised to hear that so you figured they must have discussed something. “He’ll accompany you on that visit.”

“Alright,” you said, getting up to find more books and records on the royal bloodline’s medical history. 

Time passed by quickly even though you found little to nothing of interest, but it looked like the seed of doubt had been planted because the Prince seemed to be deep in thought as he kept glancing at the page you had pointed to- the word ‘opium’ scratched over and over as if someone had tried to erase the evidence of it. You smiled to yourself- the plan seemed to be working.

Though you kept one eye on the Prince, you became distracted by a book on alchemy that seemed to be annotated by the royal physician during the time of the King’s grandfather. You flipped through the pages, mouth parted in surprise and awe at the dedication and effort of the royal physician- he seemed to have created the blueprint for most of the drugs that were now commonly supplied throughout Wonderland, and that was a remarkable feat.

You almost didn’t hear the Prince until he was right behind you and you jumped a little when he rested a hand on your shoulder to let him take a peek at what you were reading. When he noticed the surprise on your face, he smirked.

“What’s got you so busy and immersed that you didn’t notice my presence?”

“Sorry, uh,” you collected yourself, sliding away just a fraction but he seemed to have caught that- he caught everything. “Notes from the royal physician during your great grandfather’s time. He’s a figure we doctors look up to a lot.”

Hongjoong flipped through the pages, book still in your hand. “Have you always wanted to become a doctor?”

A question so simple yet you had never been asked before. Your brows rose momentarily as you processed the question, trying not to lose yourself in the spiral of what the real answer was- that no. You never wanted to become a doctor. It was just something you taught yourself to love- or something you pretend to love so you don’t forget why you’re here-

“Is it such a difficult question to answer?” He shrugged, taking the book from you so you would have no choice but to focus on him.

“I guess I just learned to love it when I found myself in this field,” you said. Probably the first honest thing you had shared with the Prince. “Have you always wanted to be the crown prince?”

Hongjoong laughed at that, caught by surprise at your sudden question and you found yourself joining- you had never heard the Crown Prince laugh like that- like a kid, unguarded. The Prince seemed to realise that too, though that didn’t stop him. You supposed that since it was only the two of you within the privacy of these four walls, he felt more at ease. And though the rational part in you told you that it was good that he was letting his guard down, your heart ached for some reason.

“I guess I learned to love it too?” He shrugged. “At some point, it becomes something you have to do rather than something you want to do.”

You nodded- you knew that all too well. “You’re doing this for the kingdom.”

“For the people,” he said. “The King hasn’t been making the best decisions regarding the kingdom ever since he got sick. The people- I know they aren’t fond of me, but they do not know how to run this kingdom. They think resuming trade with the bordering nations like the King plans to will help stabilise our economy.”

“I mean… a common man would think that you would save a lot from land routes instead of the sea routes.”

“But the common man is not aware that the King plans to impose more taxes and tariffs on his people,” Hongjoong told you as if letting you in on a secret- it was, except you were already aware. “And I think even if they find out, they will overlook that. In the long run, it will only create more problems and smuggling will become rampant. We barely managed to control that when we were recovering from the late King’s death.”

“But do you really care about the people?” You dared to question, relaxing when Hongjoong only passed you an amused look. “Or is it just because you want to prove something to your father and uncles?”

“Can’t it be a little bit of both?” He leaned against the shelf. “The people…” Hongjoong shook his head. “They say it’s only the people who suffer from the decisions we make. Is that really true though? Because I think they’re living a pretty pleasant life without worrying about making decisions of such magnitudes.”

“I guess the royal class suffers in their own way,” you scoffed. “Insomnia.”

“Insomnia can’t be classified as suffering anymore. It’s more of a bonus.”

You smiled at that- that was true. There wasn’t a royal who didn’t suffer from lack of sleep- or lack of good sleep. “Is there something that helps you sleep better at night? Apart from the prescriptions?”

“Overworking,” Hongjoong spread his arms to prove what he was doing right now instead of resting. “And… well. Other activities.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you love to hear about that,” Hongjoong smiled suggestively and you were lost for a second before you almost choked, looking away to keep the flush creeping on your cheeks at bay. “Want to help me with that? Be my personal nurse?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, snatching the book from him and putting it back on the shelf, his dark chuckle echoing inside you. He leaned forward right at the moment that you were turning in his direction, the both of you surprised when you found your faces inches away from each other- you could almost see the flecks of brown in his dark orbs even in the faint moonlight.

Almost hastily, you took one step back at the same moment that he leaned forward, his eyes locked with yours. You raised a brow, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. The air was thick with tension, taking the form of something almost electric and tangible- you were sure if you mimicked his movements and leaned forward, you would combust.

The Prince slipped his tongue between his teeth in contemplation and your gaze fell there- a mistake, because you were so, so tempted to get a taste of those plush lips. If it wasn’t obvious to Hongjoong, you were curling in on yourself with each passing second as your heart and mind clashed with one another violently inside of you-

“Didn’t peg you as the shy type,” the Prince commented, barely a whisper.

“I’m not shy,” you retorted. “I’m just trying to find an answer as to why you keep crowding my personal space.”

“Ah, is that how it is now?” Hongjoong tsk-ed in disappointment, standing straight now. “Thought you liked it when I did that.”

You did. You couldn’t tell him that not because he couldn’t know, but because you were sure he would do something about it and that couldn’t end well for you.

“Looks like you’ll be up all night tonight then,” you scoffed, making the Prince laugh again. “I’ll be taking my leave now. Unlike you, I’m not a royal so I cannot sleep in or ditch my duties. Goodnight, Prince.”

Hongjoong only shook his head in amusement as he watched your figure disappear. The smile fell when you left and he went back to sit on the sofa, watching the moon from the window.

He was pretty sure you had an ulterior motive under the pretence that you were unquestionably loyal to him. There was no such thing as loyalty- a person was faithful as long as they were satisfied. Hongjoong knew that very well, so he wondered just what you were going to get out of killing the King and crowning him. It didn’t look like you wanted to sit on the throne with him, but he didn’t dismiss the possibility- you could simply just be very good at hiding your feelings.

But then… a smirk started creeping on Hongjoong’s lips as he recalled the way he got you flustered. It wasn’t his presence that got you all tense- it was when he flirted, that was clear to him now. However, you were putting up quite a fight-

And Hongjoong wasn’t one to back away from a fight. Plus… he really wanted to shut you up once. 

And if getting in your good graces- if it could be called that- would get him some answers then he was going to make this enjoyable. 

He just had to keep his guard up. And that wasn’t so hard, was it?

—--------------------------

It was becoming harder with each passing day to keep your guard up when you were with the Prince.

He was just as stubborn and hot-headed as ever, which was already something you had to deal with. He was especially jumpy since the Duke of Neverland seemed to have been attacked by a ‘rebel group’ on his way to the castle and had delayed his trip by a few days. The King was worrying too much about his brother and that annoyed the Crown Prince to bits. His frustration was obvious and everyone around him was having to deal with the aftermath. 

And because he was so frustrated, he couldn’t sleep which meant that whenever you met up in the private library- not to read anymore but to talk and plan- he acted… different. You wondered if it was the lack of sleep that was making him lightheaded and outright flirtatious but it seemed to be just… Hongjoong being Hongjoong. And you weren’t sure how long you could keep joking around like this- turning him down by joking was what you had been doing actually.

It was the little things- he would sit in front of you only to overwhelm you with his stare, his eyes scanning you in a different manner than usual. He would purposely play with the edge of your skirt or if he was feeling a little daring, with your fingers while you chatted about medical history or politics. You tried your best to ignore it, especially since there was an obvious reason that you could not involve yourself with the Prince. 

But with each passing day and each passing moment spent by the Prince’s side, you were wondering if it would be too bad to have just a little fun while you carried out your plan. And if you looked at the bigger picture, it could help you carry out your plan and perhaps benefit you in ways you hadn’t ever considered before.

It would also be a slap on the Master’s face. The Master who had overseen your training and told you that all you were was just a piece in the puzzle he was playing. In your whole life, even at the castle, whenever you were about to make a decision of your own, he would send a sign and hold your invisible reins back- just like when you saw one of the guards with the bluebird stamp. It was always a warning that came out of the Master’s mouth and never a word of encouragement or affirmation that you were on the right path and that your efforts were commendable.

You had dedicated your whole life to the cause of the bluebirds- to end the monarchy, once and for all. It had been attempted in the past but never successfully, and you supposed it was because the previous rulers had been wise enough to dismiss internal conflict so they could focus on the external threats from the bluebirds. However, after decades, there was finally enough internal conflict to narrow the royals’ visions. They would not see it coming. There were many key players in this plan, in the light and in the shadows- but you were aware that you were the wild card of this game.

And if you succeeded, which you were bound to from the looks of it so far, the monarchy would end- there would be no one of royal blood left to rule, and before someone else could take over, the other players would make sure that the system of monarchy would collapse and democracy would be established. Once that was done, the people would finally have a taste of true freedom. It was going to be a very tragic end for the royal bloodline, and if you were going to play a part in it…

Would it be too wrong to have some fun and have him think that you actually liked him? Though if you started pondering on the matter, you didn’t have an answer- you were confused. But it was becoming harder to reject his subtle advances and you weren’t sure how long you could hold your fort, so why not let him think he had the upper hand?

“You’re staring, sweetheart.”

It didn’t help when he called you sweetheart or kitten or something equally stupid (and something that strangely tugged at your heartstrings). You quite liked hearing such terms from his mouth and you wanted to hear him say a lot more-

“Drooling, now.”

“There’s just a strange insect near your ear-”

The terrified face the Prince made as he swatted wildly near both his ears made you choke down your laugh but when he finally realised you were joking, you laughed wholeheartedly, clapping your hands in disbelief while Hongjoong recovered from the surprise and embarrassment.

“Do you have a death wish?” He growled, shaking his head and you wiped the tears in your eyes, noticing that he was almost smiling now.

“Do you have a death wish?” You countered. “I wasn’t staring, neither was I drooling. I just… zoned out.”

“You were staring,” he insisted. “But I don’t blame you. I’m quite a sight for sore eyes, am I not?”

“Totally,” you muttered, not daring to fuel him further lest he figure you out. You set the vials in your hands aside, getting up to grab the washcloth and clean the counter. “If you’re going to make my lab your lounge, I must let you know that I’m not responsible if I ‘accidentally’ spill a chemical on you.”

“Yeah, this might not be the best place to get comfortable,” he sent you a suggestive look. “There are tons of abandoned rooms in the castle.”

“And you want me to give you company?” you wiped at a stubborn blue mark on the counter near the Prince’s hand. “Because we haven’t been doing anything, just coexisting in the same space. Sounds like someone has been lonely.”

When he didn’t respond, you glanced at him to find his expressions guarded. It strangely reminded you of yourself and you continued. “It’s alright. I’m not one to say, though I must admit I thought you had more people who you met eye to eye with.”

“Well, you’re the only one who knows my wicked intentions,” he scoffed. “I might have to get rid of you for that.”

“No wonder you have no friends,” you made a face, taking off your apron and going to wash your hands in the sink. “I thought you appreciated that I was willing to kill for you.”

“You know, I really don’t get it,” Hongjoong got up, walking towards the other counter where you were drying your hands. “You sound like you’ve killed people. Or you think too highly of yourself.”

“Well… we both have blood on our hands, whether we’ve killed or not,” you said and he realised that was true. “A lot of people have died by my hands, just like they have by yours.”

Hongjoong didn’t need to know that you had actually poisoned and killed whoever came close to discovering the identity of the bluebirds. He would only assume you meant that about your sick patients, and that was fine.

“Does it keep you up at night?” He asked teasingly.

“Not really,” you grinned. “It’s not what keeps you up either.”

Hongjoong shook his head in disbelief and wonder, his hand going to your face almost naturally to tuck the stray hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to sound so happy about it, princess, just because you don’t have to pretend to be sad about it in front of me.”

Princess. 

How could he so casually call you princess and invoke such a powerful desire in you to be the owner of that title? To have the Prince repeatedly call you that? 

“Do you go around calling anyone princess?” You asked, sounding out of breath and Hongjoong raised his brow- he didn’t realise that it would have such an effect on you, but then again-

He had never called anyone princess, not even jokingly.

“Do you like that?” He asked, his thumb caressing your cheek as his hand cupped your face. “Do you like being called princess?”

“It’s you who said it, Prince.” you answered.

Hongjoong cocked his head in thought- were you after the title then, or had you simply never been called something affectionate? Because he did notice how you reacted every time he called you something as simple as sweetheart, or love- even when it was derogatory. He wished he could peek inside your mind and see what you were thinking-

He saw how your gaze darkened when you gently grabbed his wrist to draw his hand away from his face just a fraction, only to peck his palm- your lips felt like the brush of a feather against his skin but that only fueled his selfish desire to get a taste of them for himself.

“Do not ever call me a princess again,” you warned in a low voice, surprising him. “Do not call me anything that you don’t mean. I’ll take my leave first. Goodnight, Your Highness.”

Before you could fully turn away from him, he caught your wrist and tugged you towards him, making your body collide with his lightly. The two of you were now flush against each other, your joined hands in the air as he scanned your face, the desire in your eyes so obvious that it was palpable. 

And he was pretty sure he was very obvious too- he just couldn’t help it. He was beyond confused and it irked him to no end and he needed to find the answer. He was sure you were his answer-

You shook your head as if that could help your situation but you gave up and rested your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his body stiffen for just a second before he relaxed. He let go of your wrist only to place his hands on the curve of your hips while you fisted the material of his shirt in your hands-

Oh, you wanted to have a little fun? This was it, and it scared you to no end. You only took a few moments to inhale and memorise the musky notes of his scent before you drew back and made way to the exit without meeting eyes with him.

You couldn’t face him when you weren’t sure if you just wanted to play with him, use him or be with him.

—----------------------------

“If that black fake dye wasn’t obvious, your jumpiness is giving you away,” you commented when you spotted Hongjoong casting a wary glance at the poor teen who happened to cross your path. “You can take off the cloak. It’s just a library.”

“If anyone recognises me here, it could get dangerous,” he muttered.

“It’s literally the library, relax,” you said, looking at Mingi for help but he seemed to be enjoying your bickering and raised his hands in surrender. “You’re making it harder for me to concentrate. Mingi, can you accompany the Prince to the kids’ section please?”

“Don’t call me the Prince here- hey!” Hongjoong scowled, making Mingi stifle another snicker. “I’m not bothering you, okay? Read what you have to, I’m just standing here.”

“I mean… you are making it a bit obvious,” Mingi started but shut up when the Prince shot him a dirty look. “Alright, let’s give the doctor some space so we can save some time. We don’t have to go to the kids’ section.”

You groaned in relief, silently thanking Mingi who was originally going to be your only companion on this trip to the library. It looked like the Prince’s aide had gotten used to whatever was going on with you two, or simply didn’t care enough to question it. Perhaps he didn’t dare to, which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. But you still had no idea why the Prince was here- did he have so much free time or was he shirking his duties? Why did the Prince’s aide not tell him this was a bad idea?

Whatever it was, you took your sweet time exploring everything on the royals- not just the medical related knowledge you were here for, but political history and uprisings, specifically. You were aware that things could take a very wrong turn and you wanted to be prepared for everything. You didn’t want to be limited only by the knowledge the Master had allowed you to gain. 

So when about two hours later you went to find Hongjoong and Mingi, you almost panicked when you couldn’t spot them anywhere- but while frantically searching for them you heard low, oddly familiar giggles. You narrowed your eyes as you took two turns to find the Prince and his aide sitting on the floor side by side, pointing at crude images in the comic books-

In the kids’ section.

You cleared your throat, but they only spared you a glance, snickering at something funny they read but remaining unmoving. 

“Your Royal Highness,” you sighed. “It’s getting dark. We should go back to the castle.”

“Let me just finish this chapter,” Hongjoong wiped a fake tear from his eye while Mingi doubled over with laughter over something he read. You folded your arms, looking at them in utter disbelief.

This was the Prince you were supposed to put on the throne? This was the man the Master wanted you to kill?

You smiled to yourself at the sight of the two- you weren’t sure the Prince would get to have such carefree moments in the future, so you let them take their time, making a mental note of whatever they were reading. When they finished the chapter, they got up and got back to being the stuck-up Prince and guarded aide duo, steering you towards the exit and into the carriage to go back to the castle.

The ride was mostly silent, all of you sorting your thoughts out. You agreed to meet up later tonight at one of the abandoned rooms that had become your rendezvous point now. For now, the Prince sneaked back to his room through one of the secret routes so no one would question why he was out looking like that with the royal physician, of all the people.

You were glad that you were busy for the rest of the evening with lab work and assisting the other doctors in the infirmary. You went to the royal chamber later at night for the routine checkup on the King, administering the lower ruby dose mixed with a little verita this time. There were some answers you needed, so you dismissed the nurse, saying she could take a breather while you talked to the King.

“Hongjoong has been diligent lately. It’s strange,” the King found himself pondering out loud.

“Has he not always been diligent?” You asked- the Prince was known to be too hardworking.

“It’s like he almost means it now,” the King admitted. “It makes me rethink if I’ve been too harsh on him.”

“Or maybe he’s just preparing to take over more of your duties,” you carefully threw in the suggestion. “You haven’t been attending some of the meetings.”

“Could be,” he laughed, though it didn’t sound happy. “Woobin is arriving next week- he could be preparing himself. They’re always clashing with each other whenever they’re in the same room.”

“Hmm… about that,” you began, knowing that the verita was working now. “What do you think about the attack on His Highness Woobin?”

“What is there to think?” The old man frowned. “The Duke of Neverland has enemies just like all of us.”

“I was just wondering if you should look into which rebel group specifically planned the attack. It could be that insiders shared information and his travel route.”

The King thought for a moment, scratching the grey stubble on his face in thought. “You’re right. It’s either his men or one of ours.”

“You know, I went to the city today,” you told him while rubbing the pressure points on his hand. “And I heard rumours- people are speculating the Prince might have had a hand in the Duke’s attack. It’s not a secret that you favour the Duke and might pass the hierarchy to him- the public does prefer your brother over your son.”

“Ah…” the old man frowned in thought. “Could this be the case?”

“They’re only rumours,” you shrugged. “Nothing to worry about, really.”

But you had planted the seeds of worry and doubt in the King, strengthening his likening for the Duke. Once he would confront Hongjoong and demand answers or a confession to something he didn’t do, the Prince’s hatred for his father and uncles would amplify.

And when that would happen, you would be there for the Prince. You would act as his sword when he would demand it, and shield him when he would need it. You would do all of that before turning at him.

But for now… 

“He really thinks I’m not performing my duties properly?”

“You don’t have to sound so hurt- it’s not like he knows how hard you work,” you consoled the Prince. “He would think you’re neglecting your duties but he’s coped up in his room all day. He’s just being bitter.”

Hongjoong folded his arms and you shook your head at the way he was sulking, his frown deepening with each passing second. “He’s never going to acknowledge me.”

“You don’t have to get acknowledged by him. You’re the rightful owner of the crown. Neither the King nor his brothers should try to take that away from you.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I’m tempted to give up too,” he confessed and your eyes widened in surprise. He looked away from you, the faint hues of the candlelight casting shadows at the cuts and creases of his face. “I’m driving myself to do something for this kingdom only to be remembered as a tyrant in the history books you love reading so much.”

Even though he had pretended not to care about having such a reputation for the rest of his life, you were a bit thrown off to learn that it was a genuine concern he harboured in his heart. Once again, you found yourself blurring the lines of what was supposed to be the boundary between your facade and the feelings in the deepest recesses of your heart. 

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” he chuckled darkly. “I don’t know why I’m even saying this in the first place.”

“It’s okay to share,” you urged. “No judgement here.”

“Yeah, I might be a bit too honest in your presence,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You know, while we were at the library and Mingi and I were reading those stupid books-”

“You loved those stupid books-”

“Not the point, but I realised something,” Hongjoong sent you a warning glare to not interrupt him again and you sat straighter, crossing your legs that were dangling from the edge of the bed. “I realised that I rarely ever had moments where I was just… Hongjoong. Not the prince, not the crown prince.”

“Just Hongjoong looked a bit silly, I’ll admit.”

Hongjoong only smiled at that. You decided to do something about this- you did not like him seeing so quiet and sentimental. 

“Even the greatest of warriors are called privileged by people who will never know what sacrifices they made so their kids live a better life than they did,” you said. “You may think that you’re alone, but you’re not. You’ve got one loyal supporter right here,” you raised your hand and he let out a short laugh. “You don’t need to convince the world- or even your father- to see your true intentions. Not that they would appreciate it, now that I think about it…”

Hongjoong laughed at that, resting his hand on his chest. “That was a jab.”

“Yeah, well, the world doesn’t need to know you plan to get rid of the King so they can live a better life in the future,” you teased. “They would be appalled to learn that.”

“You should shut your mouth sometimes, darling. You’re too loud,” he warned though he couldn’t keep himself from smiling shamelessly. 

Your eyes twinkled with curiosity and wonder- he really was just like you. You weren’t the most moral person, you knew all too well- the Master had drained the morality out of you, but he- 

He was here, in all his royal glory yet still just as ugly as you inside. He didn’t attempt to hide it, rather wore it like a badge, though only those who really looked at him found who he truly was.

And that was what was so beautiful about him.

“Aren’t you glad to have me?” You teased. “I bet you can’t talk to Mingi about this stuff. Does he know that you’re hiding something monstrous behind that pretty face?”

“His only job is to help me with the royal duties,” he said. “He doesn’t need to know, but… I’m sure he’s caught on. He doesn’t seem to care, though.”

“You should still be cautious.”

“Yeah, I should be, shouldn’t I?” The Prince leaned back on the chair he was sitting on, folding his arms as he cast a suspicious glance at you. “Maybe I should ask Mingi to get rid of you. You know too much.”

“Oh, you want to shut me up so bad,” you rolled your eyes. “But I’m the only one who’ll dirty my hands for you.”

“Why-”

“Talking about dirtying my hands,” you got up and bent down a bit to reach his height, running your fingers through the hair next to his temple and catching the remnants of the black dye on your palm. You showed him. “It’s so noticeable- you should have washed it out properly.”

The Prince didn’t answer, his eyes guarded as he looked up at you though his mouth was parted almost expectantly. You frowned for a moment at the lack of his reaction before you realised-

He liked it. 

You hesitated before curling your hand in his soft platinum hair again, caressing his scalp and then stifling a smirk when you tugged at his hair a bit harshly, making him crane his neck up to look at you, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth as he shut his eyes.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game here, love.”

“Stop me, then,” you challenged, not caring that you were going to risk everything. You positioned one leg on his thigh to lean your weight on him, your other hand going to grip the back of his neck. “I don’t see you complaining, Prince.”

Hongjoong hooked one finger in the pearl necklace that you were always wearing, bringing you closer and you almost lost your balance, a little gasp leaving your mouth when you pressed against his chest for support. Hands still on his neck and in his hair, you tried leaning away but this time, he stilled you with his hands on your waist. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like chemicals, darling,” he breathed, pecking the skin where his lips met your neck. “And roses.”

“You smell like cheap hair dye,” you said, resting your cheek against his head, his body shaking under you as he chuckled. “Don’t ever wear that again.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he said and you froze again. He leaned back to scan your face. “Why? You told me to not call you what I didn’t mean.”

“You don’t mean that, though,” you told him, something incredibly sad starting to brew inside you.

“But I’m only ever honest with you,” he pleaded. “Don’t you know that? If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

You sighed at that, wishing you were anywhere else other than his fucking lap so your brain wouldn’t have so much problem functioning, but it looked like for now, you were a lost cause. You caught the wetness from the outer corner of his left eye, wiping it down and smearing the black dye on his face in the process. He let you mark him and, mimicking what you had done the night you had warned him not to call him ‘princess’, he grabbed your palm and kissed it.

That was your last straw. You told yourself that you didn’t care if the Prince was honest or deceiving you- you only cared about one thing- you needed him. You rested your cheek against his, trailing kisses down his temple to his jaw and rubbing the tip of your nose there, making him groan. He squeezed your hips encouragingly and that only prompted you to trail more kisses down his neck. You found one spot and alternated between kissing and sucking, drawing away after a few moments when he shifted under you, grinning at the forming bruise.

You marked the Prince like you owned him. And the thought of that alone was making you lightheaded.

You locked eyes with Hongjoong, seeing red- red for lust. Before you knew it, you both were leaning in, your lips meeting in a flurry as you snaked your hands back in his hair, gripping his head to keep him close as you kissed. He brought your body closer while he kissed you, switching from pecks to open-mouthed kisses when you fully rested on his lap, desire coursing through every cell in your body.

This was it. This was the man the Master had warned you to be wary of- the man who held you possessively yet carefully. The man who tugged at your bottom lip, prompting you to open your mouth so he could explore it with his tongue. The man who kissed you as if he had been starving for it- you didn’t know about him but you sure had. 

You couldn’t bring yourself closer, bodies flush against each other as you made out for what seemed like an eternity before he got up, making you wrap your legs around his waist and then he dumped you on the old, somewhat dusty bed. You didn’t care though. You brought him in too, keeping his core locked to yours with your legs, his hands fumbling to open the buttons of your gown- he might as well have torn them. He ripped the bodice of your gown apart, trailing his lips down your neck to your chest and resting his lips on the skin between your breasts.

“Tired already?” You teased, making him chuckle against your chest. He ran his hands up your waist, tracing the curves of your chest before his palms met the bare skin on your shoulders and then he ran his hands down your arms almost lovingly, your smile changing to a gasp when he gripped your wrists tightly and pinned your arms above your head, almost glaring at you.

“You talk too much, sweetheart.”

“Do I now?” you scoffed, letting him pin your wrists with one hand while the other drew your dress away from your chest to reveal your perked up nipples, the cold making you shiver a bit. He cupped one of your breasts in one hand while kissing and sucking around the other, making your back arch against his body. The way he kissed you was too much- it looked like he intended to devour you. You could feel how turned on he was when he started rocking his body against yours, his hard bulge pressing against your core and making you stifle moans until he purposely pressed harder, finally earning a loud one from you.

“That’s what you’ve been wanting all this time, haven’t you?” Hongjoong whispered in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and making you squirm. “Only wanting to get in my good graces to get fucked by me.”

“Yeah, well, if I had known this was going to happen,” you said, out of breath. “I would have done something sooner.”

He chuckled at that, pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth and drawing back, looking you in the eyes before kissing you deeper. He let you take off his shirt, discarding it on the floor. He let you run your hands on his bare upper body repeatedly, let you help him take off your dress and his pants until you were both left in just your undergarments. He let you take control for just a while when you got on top of him, settling on his lap and admiring his physique. 

His hands rested on your hips, playing with the waistband of your panties, tempted to do something about that too, but for now, he watched you watch him with desire in your eyes. He was surprised to find you so needy yet each touch felt controlled, almost calculated. He didn’t care though- it was already pleasurable enough to drive him insane. He had never let anyone take control of the pace like you did, so he was looking forward to what you were going to do with him.

And he was glad that he let you- you wrapped your hand around his neck experimentally before you bent down to kiss him, loving the way his kisses now became restrained as you controlled his air intake. You swallowed his moans in your kisses, not noticing how tightly he was squeezing your hips until he spanked you once, making you laugh as you drew back.

“Do you have a death wish?” He asked, voice raspy.

“Maybe?” You pecked his cheek.

That was enough- he flipped your bodies to get on top of you, shaking his head before trailing kisses down your chest and then looking at you, watching your expressions when he brought his hand between your legs and brushed one finger against the wet patch on your panties.

“Soaked already, and we’ve just begun.”

“Just begun?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry though the thought of what was next sent a new wave of arousal through your body. Hongjoong snickered at your reaction, wasting no time to pull your panties down, licking his lips at the sight of your drenched core. You kicked him away lightly before taking off your panties and he ran his hands up your thighs-

Pausing when he felt marred skin on his palm and cold washed over you when you realised that he hadn’t noticed the small marks and scars that littered through your body earlier in the faint light- but now, his eyes stopped at each one that he detected.

“Are you going to explain this?”

“Rough childhood,” you muttered- not the entire truth, but close. “Most of these are from how reckless I was, though. Nothing to worry about.”

Hongjoong passed you a look that said that he didn’t buy it, but he didn’t probe. Instead, he kissed every mark and every scar that he found on your thighs before spreading your legs and circling your clit with his thumb, now sporting a devilish smile. You bit your lips- if the emotions from him treating you so tenderly were too much just now, this was a lot. It felt more intimate and personal than anything you had ever experienced. 

“Look at you, y/n,” he called your name- a rare occurrence. “Look at you.”

Before you could respond, he sank one finger inside you quite easily, groaning at how tightly your walls hugged him. You shut your eyes, back arching in pleasure when he curled it inside and slipped another finger- he really did intend to fuck you, and you were going to take it.

“Good girl,” he muttered, meeting your mouth in a wet kiss. You tried to clench your thighs, overwhelmed by the pleasure you got from his fingers curling and opening inside you but he locked your thighs to the bed with his knees, making out with you while his fingers fucked you. Your breathing got unsteady and he knew you were approaching your orgasm which was when he let your legs free, your hips moving of their own accord, rocking against his palm.

“God, you’re insane,” he growled in your ear, slipping his fingers out of you and you almost sobbed at the lack of them inside you, though when he watched his soaked fingers in amusement and licked them to get a taste, you felt shivers in your entire body. He hummed in approval.

“Do something,” you begged but he laughed mockingly. When you shot him a glare, he nodded slowly.

“Whatever you say…” he brought his mouth so close to your core that his lips brushed your aching clit. “Princess.”

Before you could react, he grabbed your thighs to keep them apart, licking a stripe up your wet folds and circling his tongue around your clit. You saw stars, your orgasm fastly approaching once again and all he had to do was dive his tongue inside you and press his thumb on your clit before your orgasm came like a crash, making you want to curl in on yourself but you couldn’t even do that because he restrained you, so you only writhed in his hold in pleasure while he made out with your sopping wet cunt.

“Too much,” you tried to stop him. “Let me breathe, Prince.”

“Oh, I’m not done with you,” he told you almost casually. “You have yet to have me inside you.”

“Oh, god,” you breathed. “Please.”

He snickered at that. “Such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” you looked at him. “Only for you… my King.”

“Oh, no, no,” he shook his head repeatedly. “You did not just say that.”

“King,” you got up to snake your arms around his neck. “My King. You like being called that?”

He did- it was obvious because he crashed his lips against yours, passionately kissing you and drawing back only to take off his undergarment, not even giving you a moment to appreciate the sight before pushing you down and sinking his throbbing cock inside you, though he was gracious enough to be slow with it so you could adjust. Once he was fully inside you, he remained there unmoving, pulling you up by your shoulders to resume your original position when you kissed him. 

You sat on top of him, whispering the title he craved so badly again and again as you exchanged deep, passionate kisses. He called you princess, called you his queen and you returned the favour. His cock twitched inside you and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he pushed you back on the bed and started thrusting into you, your breaths mingling as your bodies rocked against each other. You told him that you were on contraceptives and he was free to mark your walls if he wanted to, and he bit your shoulder in answer, squeezing your nipples as his motions became unsteady and he jerked wildly against you, his warm cum spreading inside you. 

You kept him close, keeping him going and he thrust through his orgasm until you came as well, burying your face in his chest as both your moans mingled and filled the air in the room. When he finally stilled, he collapsed next to you.

“You plan to kill me, don’t you?” 

For a moment, your heart sank and you wondered if a confession had slipped through your mouth in the heat of the moment, or if he had really managed to peek inside your mind. But when he chuckled, you realised he meant it differently.

“Says you,” you smacked his arm and he brought you closer, kissing your forehead, the both of you unable to meet eyes for a moment as you attempted to conceal the truth and the guilt that accompanied it.

—--------------------------------

The Duke of Neverland- Prince Woobin- arrived two days earlier than schedule, setting off a mild frenzy in the castle as preparations to welcome him fell short, guards’ and soldiers’ rotations shifted, more medical staff got stationed in the infirmary and the kitchen-

Well, the kitchen probably got the worst of it. Though dinner went by smoothly, the staff was overworked and while you were passing by, you overheard a funny conversation about how Prince Woobin’s handsomeness and gentle nature made their efforts worth it.

You supposed you could relate to the sentiment- the Prince wasn’t very old but sure was ageing like fine wine. He was the tallest of them and had strong features just like Hongjoong, though Hongjoong was on the prettier side. The Duke was just as clever as he could be, and he was clearly ambitious especially when it came to the throne and its duties.

And… he intended to let the King know.

“Wonderland is unstable right now, brother,” Prince Woobin insisted. “What the other kingdoms need to see is that our royalty won’t collapse and we’ll stay united and put a strong front.”

There. He was definitely on to something.

“You’re right,” the King nodded, sighing deeply. “I will hold the coronation soon- I’d like it if I can see it happen while I’m alive. I know I’m no longer fit to run this kingdom.” 

He wasn’t, and you had made sure of that. You were just waiting for the right timing. You felt sorry that the King wouldn’t see his last wish come true but you were sure he would watch from above. That was something you were going to believe for his sake.

“I don’t mean that you’re not fit,” Prince Woobin squeezed the King’s arm gently. “But your health is not the best, and it’s better to announce the next in line in your life. I know Hongjoong is your son and very capable of running the kingdom, but I still stand by the fact that he’s…”

The King sent his brother an amused look. “You thought the same about me when I was about to ascend the throne. I didn’t do a bad job, and I’m sure Hongjoong won’t either. He will feel very wronged if I pass the throne to you, and you know that. The crown is rightfully his.”

“Think about the people,” the Prince whispered and then cast a wary glance at you but you pretended you really could hear nothing except the scratching of the pen as you noted tonight’s readings. It was too bad that you were done and couldn’t continue to listen to their conversation anymore. With a bow to the two and a reminder to the King to take his morning walk, you left the room. You didn’t notice the Crown Prince around though you shared a wave with his aide. 

To your surprise- or you supposed you should have gotten used to the sight now- the Prince was lying on his stomach on your bed, reading the same comic book that he had been reading in the public library that day with Mingi. You, for some reason you were still wondering about, had one of your acquaintances in the castle purchase those books and anything related to it when they went to town. You kept these books in your room- it wouldn’t be appropriate if the Crown Prince was caught slacking because he stayed up all night laughing over some silly dialogue in those books.

“While you’re here reading about some fourteen year olds fighting over a girl, your uncle is trying to coax the King into passing the throne to him.”

“Nothing new,” Hongjoong muttered, not looking away from the book. “I’ll be having a meeting with him before the ball. What we’ll do next depends on his answer.”

You settled your bag on the chair and went to the vanity to take off your necklace and rings. “Are you going to ask him?”

“No point beating around the bush, but it will be in the presence of my father and others,” Hongjoong looked up momentarily, meeting your eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “If he admits he wants to get crowned, I’ll have to prove that he’s not fit for it.”

“How?” You turned to look at him.

“How do you think?” He asked, “I’m curious to learn how you would handle this.”

“You’re thinking of bringing up the Neverland Accords, aren’t you?” You asked and he nodded, not surprised that you figured it out. “That’s the one thing the Duke regrets doing. The one blemish on his career.”

“It destabilised the western region. By giving in to the demands of the refugees, he gave birth to a group of people with such hatred towards the monarchy that they became rebels. They left their families for the cause. I believe notorious rebel groups like the black pirates or bluebirds who were cooperating with my ancestors became restless because of this agreement.”

So he knew about the bluebirds- everyone who worked in the castle knew for security reasons, but he knew the history and the reasons. A few of them. And he believed that the Neverland Accords, which were about fifteen years old, might be why your rebel group was restless now. You wished you could tell him that it was much older and sinister than that. You wished you could tell him that the Master wasn’t just one person but a network of leaders over time.

And when you caught yourself thinking about this, you almost dropped the comb in your hand. Thankfully, the Prince was too busy reading his book while you tried to form an answer.

“Well… I suppose that might be true,” you managed to say. “I have something we can add to that.”

“And what might that be?”

You let your hair flow freely now, ruffling it a little before you walked towards the bed, the Prince’s hand inviting and prompting you to sit near him. You leaned in and told him your part of the plan in hushed whispers and he looked at you a few times to make sure this wasn’t a joke.

“I told you,” you held his chin in your hand, gaze stuck on his parted lips. “I told you I would kill for you. I came up with something even better instead. No one will suspect the royal physician, Prince.”

“Because you serve the King?”

“Because I serve humanity,” you said, the chuckle that suddenly left your mouth turning into a low laugh and Hongjoong frowned at that- while your plan was nothing short of a genius plan, a quiet voice in his head beckoned him to question how a royal physician- a doctor- was able to scheme like this. 

But for now, your hand casually resting against his thigh as you laughed was distracting. Your red, plump lips were distracting. The books you got him and the key to your room that you gave him were distracting him. The way you accepted who he was- the dark parts and even the sillier ones- that was distracting. 

Hongjoong started sharing that laugh, shaking his head at you. “Now I’m really hoping the Prince begs for the throne.”

“I won’t let anyone look at what’s yours,” you promised him, gladly letting him sit you on his lap, his book long forgotten by his side. “You can count on me.”

“Why are you doing this, y/n?” He wondered, his hands going under your dress to rest on your bare thighs. “What do you get out of this?”

“I told you-”

“Why are you really doing this?” He asked, an almost dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you want me to crown you too?”

“No,” you sighed. “I couldn’t be less interested in the crown. I’m interested in what you’ll do for my career,” you lied, deciding to add a sprinkle of something honest in there when you said, “And if I can be with you like this without the crown or the heavy title, I’m content. But you must know that I’ve only had this change of heart recently.” 

“You could ask me to crown you and I might do just that,” Hongjoong offered, looking up at you with adoration but you could see that he was calculating behind that facade. 

“Ah, now you’re tempting me,” you smiled slyly. “Does the crown guarantee that you’ll look at me like this every night? That you’ll always fuck me like you actually mean it?”

“I do, though,” he admitted and your smile fell. 

You were aware that Hongjoong only cooperated with you because he obeyed what you told him- to use you as a tool. However… had he caught feelings along the way? Or was this just another of his grand schemes- to have you lower your guard? You were still half sure that he was going to get rid of you once he was crowned, but now he was offering you something that you thought about only in your wildest dreams.

If you grabbed on to this opportunity… if you could be the queen of Wonderland, you would have more power than the Master. You could make better decisions for the bluebirds. You wouldn’t even have to end the monarchy- you could have the Prince agree to your terms. You knew that the Prince wasn’t an unreasonable man and he would understand if you participated in politics actively if you became the queen and he, the king. He would listen to you and probably even give you better advice- he cared for the kingdom to prosper, as did the bluebirds, so…

Did you really have to kill him? You could just rule with him and use him to achieve the bluebirds’ agendas. You could accomplish so, so much-

“Cat got your tongue?” He teased and you shook your head, pushing down the train of thought for now.

“You’re offering a royal physician the burden of the crown. Of course I’m speechless,” you said. “But… heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

“The rubies would suit you, though,” he grinned and you laughed at that. 

“We’ll talk about this when you’re actually the King,” you told him. “For now, I’m content being where I am. I desire power, not the crown. The crown doesn’t necessarily guarantee power.”

“I think you’d make a nice queen, though,” Hongjoong rested his back against the bedpost, getting your hair away from your shoulders to plant sweet kisses along your collarbone. “Though I’d always be worried if you would poison me or use some drug to make me bend to your will.”

“You’re venomous enough as you are,” you scoffed. “All that bitterness inside you will kill you one day. Besides, I don’t need to use a drug to make you get on your knees. You’ve been doing that pretty often anyway.”

Hongjoong gave you a challenging look and you knew what was going to come next. Especially when his hand came to rest around your throat and he used that to get you off his lap and on the floor.

On your knees.

“Let’s change that now, shall we?”

You only smirked in answer, obeying, and while it was pleasurable enough to be on your knees for the future king, the thing he offered you only heightened your drive and made you sure-

That now, even if it was for one day, you wanted the Prince to rule.

And you wanted to be by his side this time.

—-----------------------------

There sure was something in the air tonight. 

Tonight, the Royal Ball took place in the honour of the Duke’s arrival to the castle in the form of a masquerade party. There were many honourable guests from Wonderland and a few from the neighbouring nations as well. The theme was ruby, which you thought was very ironic. You could see red everywhere- in the costumes, in the flowers that decorated the Hall, and in the wine that filled everyone’s glasses. 

The sound of violins and pianos was adorning the air with notes of excitement and vibrancy. The beat of the footsteps of the dancers in the middle of the hall melded along with the music, prompting the audience to synchronise with their claps or their heartbeats. Laughter and chatter flowed freely in the air along with the bubbles from the drinks the waiters and waitresses poured endlessly. The smell of something floral and musky overwhelmed your senses. It was a clash of perfumes, but if you stationed yourself near one of the windows or the tables with refreshment, the earthy smell of the air and the ever-familiar smell of food would wash over a wave of calm over you.

And you kind of needed that right now, because there sure was all of that in the air tonight, but there was also a wave of palpable calculation. Every look and every touch meant something tonight. Every word was said with caution. Every step someone took towards someone else meant something. And sure, this was just how royal events were, but tonight was special.

Tonight, there was an invisible web of deception and lies hovering above the Hall, waiting to trap its prey at the right moment. Though your prey was one- or two, if you were lucky- there could be more who would get caught by the spider. All you had to do was wait.

You watched the spider- the Crown Prince- looking absolutely ravishing in a deep red embellished coat over a black shirt and pants that matched the embroidery on the jacket. Most of his face was concealed by the extravagant black mask that he wore, the red feathers of it creating quite a contrast with his platinum hair that was styled away from his face. He might be unrecognisable at first glance but you could spot him anywhere. He always stood out to you.

Your eyes scanned the crowd again to find the tall Duke who had been attempting to mingle with anyone of importance throughout the whole night. That man was full of energy and the dark part in your heart wished to bathe him in eternal darkness as soon as possible. However, patience was the key. 

You had to keep reminding yourself that- that you had to be patient and that you couldn’t stray from your path no matter how tempting the road might seem. But you couldn’t deny the fact that being physical with Hongjoong and all his offers were making you incredibly selfish and greedy and clouding your judgement. You were confused, and you wished you could meet the Master or even one of the bluebirds to have yourself reminded of why you were doing this, but with each passing day, the final destination started appearing murkier.

For now, though, you just wanted this night to go smoothly. You got busy when some of the royal physicians from the Duke’s court found you, and your chat with them was quite interesting. However, you kept stealing glances at the Prince. He was now on the floor dancing with someone in an overly fluffy bright red dress and it left the sour taste of jealousy in your mouth. You decided to take a chance and joined hands with the first available partner on the dance floor who introduced himself as one of the Duke’s men. 

You rotated around the dance floor and switched partners twice before you found yourself in Hongjoong’s arms. The smirk he had on his lips made your knees feel weak.

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?” He asked, twirling you around once. “I could feel your eyes on me all night long, darling.”

“Can’t resist you,” you teased, bringing your hand closer to his neck than was necessary considering you were dancing. “You’ve been enjoying mingling too much without me.”

“Well, it’s a risky move but since everyone’s so busy dancing, you can get away with it,” Hongjoong told you, glancing at the upper section of the Hall where the King sat with a few of his friends. “However… I can’t wait to take this pretty dress off. You have no idea how irresistible you look tonight, love.”

You smiled at that- you had made a little more effort dressing up tonight than usual. The black silk dress might be plain but it hugged your curves in just the right way. There was a slit in the leg and you were wearing maroon heels, one of them with a matching ribbon that was tied up and around your leg in an intricate pattern, the bow situated right below the slit of the dress. You wore a red mask that covered half your face and extended towards your other eye as well. 

“You look quite charming too,” you said. “Red really is your colour.”

“Red looks like your colour,” the Prince said, pointing his eyes in the direction of the red ruby earrings you were wearing- a gift from the Prince himself for tonight. “I told you- the rubies suit you.”

Before you could respond to that, he squeezed your waist before rotating to switch partners once again, and you were left with those words playing in your head for the rest of the night- but you didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the dances ended and everyone started drinking or leaving for the night, you caught the Prince nodding at you before exiting the Hall and you started following him through the very empty corridors, making sure no one would catch you together.

You saw him go inside one of the abandoned rooms you had used in your early days to meet up and when you went inside and shut the door, Hongjoong was on you in a moment, cupping your masked face and kissing the exposed part of your lips which had to be a struggle because when he drew back, he had your red lipstick smeared across his own lips.

And the sight of that made you physically weak but Hongjoong was quick to hold you with a laugh.

“Already on your knees for me?” He commented and you smacked his chest, taking off your mask and his so you could finally kiss him properly. You broke apart for air and rested your head on his shoulder.

“It’s been a while.”

It had been about five days. The first three days got you anxious enough to want to contact his aide to see if the Prince really was busy or just avoiding you, but then he had the rubies delivered to your room. You wore them that night and looked at your reflection for the longest time, wondering how you would look in a matching crown.

“Yeah, it has been,” Hongjoong said, sweetly kissing your temple and then lifting your face by your chin to kiss you again, his tongue sliding in at the first opportunity. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pushed you against the door, his hand going to grab your thigh and bringing it up so he could press himself to you, lazily playing with the ribbon wound around it.

You broke apart for air, brushing your noses teasingly. “Missed me?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, “I have quite a few updates.”

“And so have I,” you grinned. “You first?”

“Well,” Hongjoong began, his hand on your thigh travelling to the inner side, drawing your panties away to slide his fingers along your wet folds. “The meeting was a success for me. Prince Woobin admitted he would like my crown, and my court was not happy with it. I brought up the Neverland Accords and that made him lose his temper. Good thing the King witnessed that.”

“Ah, that’s good,” you said, which came out more as a moan when he slipped a digit inside you, rubbing your clit in slow strokes with his thumb. “Is that why he’s been trying so hard to get in everyone’s good graces tonight?”

Hongjoong took a moment to respond, too busy trailing kisses down your neck and along your shoulders, drawing the straps of the half-sleeve dress away. “Surely. He has no idea what’s coming for him.”

“About that,” you rocked your hips against his hand when he inserted another finger inside, resting your head back against the door. “The King mentioned something about his father’s illness being similar to his own. I took the opportunity to tell him about ruby.”

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong paused and you gave him a warning look, prompting him to continue thrusting his fingers inside you.

“I mean,” you breathed, curling into his body when you could feel the familiar buildup of an orgasm. “I tricked him. I told him that I was instructed to use an opium compound by the Duke’s royal physicians- which is true, by the way, I discussed the medical side of it with him in the earlier days- ah.”

Hongjoong smirked when you squeezed your eyes shut as he slowed his pace. He was playing with you and it always drove you mad and he loved seeing you in that state.

“So I told him that I was suspicious about ruby and requested the Prince- you- to let me access the private library so I could check if this was the right drug to use. And then I- Hongjoong!”

You moaned loudly when he pressed your clit, the orgasm crashing over you suddenly and with a force that had you gripping at him for dear life. Hongjoong helped you recover from it, rubbing your clit in slow circles and caressing your cheek as you shuddered before he picked you up in his arms and brought you to the couch, looking up at you.

“Say that again.”

“What?”

“Say my name,” he commanded and you brought your face next to his to whisper his name in his ear. He groaned at that, making quick work of unfastening his belt and you barely had time- and the strength- to take off your panties before he had you sit on his hard cock, easily sliding in.

“Now talk.”

You gave him a look, your walls clenching around him at the way he ordered you and he scoffed. “Uh… where was I?”

“Library.”

“Right,” you tried moving but he gripped your hips, making you sit still and you gave up. “So I told him that I found something suspicious in the library which is making me suspect that Prince Woobin had a hand in the late King’s death. Because it was Prince Woobin’s royal physician who was aware of this opium compound, who also happens to be the mentee of the Late King’s dead doctor.”

“Ah…” Hongjoong nodded. “So my father knows that I’m aware of this?”

“I told him that I’ve addressed my suspicions to you and you’re investigating the matter.”

“So when I finally tell him that I’m suspecting the Duke-”

“He will believe you because he’s already heard from me, and I’m his doctor,” you grinned. “I can’t be lying to him about this- and I’ve been lowering his dose slowly anyway so he thinks that I’m trying to get him off this medication without adverse effects.”

“And why are you lowering it? I thought you were going to kill him with ruby?”

“I found a better alternative,” you smirked. “One that would make it look more natural than ruby. And do you know what I call it?”

“What?”

“Silver Light,” you kissed the top of his head. “Like the colour of your hair.”

Hongjoong laughed at that, shaking his head and gladly meeting your lips in a kiss that quickly got heated and prompted him to thrust his cock inside you deeply and you quickly returned the sentiment, bouncing on top of him and matching his energy.

“You’re insane,” he told you, sucking at your bottom lip. “With this, the Duke will finally be out of my way.”

“What about the Duke of Mist- Prince Woojin?” You asked, tugging at his hair which always turned him on.

“An accomplice, maybe,” Hongjoong breathed and you knew he was close. “He’ll be exiled but only after he watches his brother get executed.”

“How fun,” you licked a spot on his neck before kissing there. “Calls for a feast.”

“Oh, I’ll have one right here,” Hongjoong looked down at your joined cores, rolling his hips along yours. “Say my name, princess.”

You were so close. You joined your foreheads as he took control of the pace and you called his name in soft whispers again and again until he was spilling inside you, until his warmth covered you and made you become undone in his arms once again.

And when the two of you laughed maniacally, you decided it.

You were not going to give him up. Not like this- not like the Master wanted you to.

You would take your sweet time. You would have him satisfy your desire like this for as long as he was under your control. You would have him fill you up, have him mark your skin just like he was doing now, have him call you princess, or queen, or whatever the fuck he wanted to. You would wear the ruby crown he loved so much. You would sit on his lap while he sat on the throne.

You only hoped the tugging at your heart was for the desire for all of that instead of the desire to be looked at with love.

—--------------------------------

The past week had been nothing short of eventful and chaotic, to put it simply.

With the King suspecting his brother which bled in his interactions, making the Duke wonder if the King had made up his mind to crown his son, he started trying to reason with the King. His method was the same as Hongjoong’s- to dig up dirt on the Prince and tell the King of his shortcomings. However, the Duke was not aware that he was being suspected of treason, and there was no bigger sin than treason for the King. How could a son kill his own father? 

The King found himself thinking about the reason a lot. He mentioned it when you slipped verita into his drug. He asked you if it was common for a child to kill his parents.

“Unheard of,” you told him. “Depends on the circumstances, I guess. When you have power, you’ll be targeted by anyone and everyone- it wouldn’t matter if they’re blood relations.”

“Sometimes I wish I was a farmer,” the King laughed in disappointment. “I could have lived a good life.”

“They have their own set of troubles,” you told him. “They worry about how to feed their wife and kids. They worry about having too many mouths to feed but then find themselves with even more. And then they do worse things than kill their children and live with the guilt.”

“What’s worse than death?”

“I guess you’ll know soon,” you shrugged and he passed you a side-eye. “If your brother really had a hand in your father’s death… whatever you do next would make you think back to this moment.”

The grief the King felt was clear, and it became even worse when Hongjoong, as per his father’s request, finally concluded the investigation and found the Duke of Neverland, Prince Woobin, guilty of the late King’s murder with the Duke of Mist, Prince Woojin, a suspected accomplice. 

Tonight, Prince Woobin was going to get hanged in the square within the castle walls. The kingdom was in an uproar with his supporters crowding the streets and making home outside the castle walls. Many believed he was being wronged because apart from the Neverland Accords, his career had been pretty remarkable. If you were objective, he was probably fit to run this kingdom too. Prince Hongjoong might be a skilled leader but he still lacked a few important qualities that the people wanted in their future king, such as empathy. You weren’t one to say though, when you had orchestrated this whole plan.

The Duke of Mist Island, Prince Woojin, was choosing to remain silent. It was probably because if he spoke in the favour of Prince Woobin, the suspicions of him being an accomplice would sound true. While the kingdom was outraged, the current king and prince weren’t void of supporters. By choosing to remain silent, he would only get exiled until proven guilty or innocent. He had to think of himself.

One thing was clear to everyone, though. The monarchy was falling apart and it was causing a palpable sense of restlessness. The King’s health was declining at a rapid rate now and his heart was weaker- it was grief that was doing your job for you. Prince Hongjoong was trying his best to keep things calm and so far, he had it under control. It looked like he would soon earn the favour of the majority with his uncles out of the picture. The people had no other choice.

You were stationed at the King’s side, next to his retired aide- an old man who came to be with the King at this difficult moment. You needed to be here in case the King suddenly felt unwell- after all, he was going to witness his little brother get executed.

Hongjoong was seated on the other side and every time that he glanced at the King to make sure if he was alright, he would meet your eyes. You exchanged no signals, though. Tonight, you had hundreds of eyes trained on you. If anyone caught you sharing eye contact, they would simply think the Prince was worried about his father and was making sure that the doctor was alert. If he was doing this consciously, you had to commend his acting.

Prince Woobin’s face was covered with a black cloth as he entered the square, being walked by the guards who held his chained arms. You looked across the square to find his royal physician whose licence was revoked for medical negligence on the basis that he was aware of ruby’s effects- and possibly, how it was used for the murder of the late King. The fact that he had done nothing about it and encouraged you to use it instead made his position worse. You talked to the King and told him that revoking his licence was enough since nobody could have guessed that ruby was dangerous without referring to the royal archives in the private library. 

The guards made Prince Woobin kneel in front of the King, though a level and quite a distance separated the brothers. His mask was taken off, revealing the Duke in a ghastly state. His eyes were sunken though they harboured pure hatred for the people who were wrongly blaming him. The fire burning from the torch illuminated one side of his face, casting deep shadows on the other.

“Your Majesty!” Prince Woobin’s voice boomed through the area, earning startled gasps from the crowd. “Brother dear! I urge you to reconsider and reinvestigate.”

The King sighed deeply. “All the evidence points to you. You plotted to kill me the same way you killed my father.”

“He was my father too, and I would never do that. I may have been after the crown since long ago, but it was never my intention to get my hands bloody along the way. I’m not like this, and you know that.”

“Do I?” The King asked himself, ignoring his brother’s plea of innocence. 

Hongjoong got up this time and his uncle looked at him with such distaste in his eyes that you almost got worried. “Your services to the Kingdom of Wonderland are appreciated. However, you are guilty of treason and murder of the late King, an unforgivable act. We must set an example, however much it pains us.”

Prince Woobin only scoffed in response and spat on the ground, causing the crowd to shift uncomfortably. Prince Hongjoong, however, remained unfazed. 

“Any last words?”

“Yes,” the Duke stood up, standing tall in front of everyone. “You will regret this. Tonight marks the beginning of the end.”

The King rested his head in his hands, overcome with emotions and you asked him if he was feeling alright, even though it was obvious that he was not. You looked at Hongjoong and he stood in front of his father, blocking his view.

“I- I can’t watch this,” the King wiped his eyes.

“It has to happen in your presence- you know the rules,” Prince Hongjoong rubbed his father’s back. “I’ll cover you.”

Prince Hongjoong signalled the executioners to begin and the crowd fell eerily silent as the Duke was led to the gallows. The air felt grim and the Duke’s footsteps were heavy. Though he looked pale when his gaze settled on the blade that was to decapitate his head, he settled on the lunette with a sense of resignation and finality. 

The executioner’s words went over your head. All you could see and hear was red. Red for lies, red for deception and red for death. The blade’s drop was swift and silent but whatever sound it made was masked by the fear and warning delivered as a message through this execution.

The King left immediately after and you followed after him, sharing one last look with Hongjoong whose head was held higher than ever. Perhaps, the burden of the crown was starting to feel lighter on his head. You wished you could kiss his head at that moment and tell him that it was going to get easier from here.

However, it looked like you did not need to. That night, when you went to find the Prince in one of the abandoned rooms, you found them empty. Wondering if he was in your room- or his own room- you started going back towards the residential area but the faint sound of music caught your attention. If it had been any other day, you would have ignored it but something prompted you to investigate.

In one of the storage rooms that held old musical instruments, the room that was once an active class, was the Crown Prince shaking his arms in the air like a maestro, playing an invisible instrument to the music blasting off the gramophone. You remained frozen in the doorway, watching him dance like a maniac to whatever was going on in his head. His movements quickened as the music reached the crescendo and they both crashed down in harmony with the Prince twirling and laughing loudly to himself.

Was he that happy? Was he this pleased now that he was sure that he would be ascending the throne? Strangely enough, the words of your Master started feeling substantial. He wasn’t wrong when he told you why the Crown Prince wasn’t fit for the crown, and you were only realising it now in its full weightage.

The Crown Prince was a madman, blinded by the desire for power and nothing else. He would do anything to have his way. He was celebrating being one step closer to the throne even though the path was marred by blood now. Did he really think you were his equal? Of course not, he was a royal. But did he think you were someone significant in his life now that things were shifting between you two, or had he taken your words too seriously? Were you still just a tool to him? And would he use you even if it meant he had to crown you?

You decided to leave him be for the night, going back to your room to send a message to the Master and make preparations for the final hurdle-

The King.

—--------------------------

If you were honest, you had imagined the Prince choking you far too many times. 

You imagined it would be a result of a spontaneous sequence of events- perhaps, while he kissed you and his hand went around your neck instead of cupping the side like he usually did, he would realise you might have a thing for getting choked. Maybe he would even hear you moan in response and look in your eyes to confirm if you liked it.

Or perhaps, it could be a consequence of a heated moment, such as him on top of you and thrusting relentlessly into you, recognising that you were inches away from an orgasm, and right when your body would arch and jerk as it crashed over you, he would squeeze the sides of your neck to heighten it further. You thought he would make you see stars or something even better.

However, being pinned to the wall by both his hands around your neck, his thumbs pressing your larynx threateningly and making you physically choke in pain was not it. His eyes bore into yours, dripping with venom and you tried smacking his hands away but it didn’t work.

“Did you do it?”

You stopped struggling for a moment, confused, before your features softened. Hongjoong watched with a frown but when he heard your raspy chuckle, he gave you a warning look but your laugh only got louder, making you cough because of his hold on your neck.

“You’re welcome… Your Majesty.”

It had been only a few days since the Duke’s execution. The King was having a hard time coming to terms with his brother’s blood on his hands. He may have bought your lies when you insisted that the Duke had a hand in the late King’s death, but he must have been suspecting tampering of evidence or something worse since he actually got out of his room and went to the private library to conduct his own investigation.

You had luckily lowered the ruby dosage to the minimum and the King was aware that you couldn’t have replaced it with something right away- it might have caused some side-effects. While the King did not suspect you, only commending you for caring about his health, his son received the scepticism in your stead. The King was beginning to feel more wary of Hongjoong and it was becoming obvious to everyone around them. It didn’t help that Hongjoong was doing absolutely nothing to help his case. 

You had successfully completed the first part of your mission, but there was no word from the Master. Had bluebirds abandoned you? All you needed was a signal to proceed with the rest of the plan. Could it be that they somehow peeked inside your heart and discovered the true motives behind why you were cooperating with them? 

You were anxious, and that was not good. It didn’t help that the Prince was incredibly busy now that Prince Woobin’s post as the Duke of Neverland was empty. The Duke of Mist had just negotiated for his life and the King had stopped Hongjoong from taking any further steps related to that matter for the time being. It was getting messier and you were realising that the Prince’s besetting sin might be his emotions and unquenchable thirst for more. While he was fully capable of making rational decisions and was doing his best to appear innocent, he could not hide how much fun he was having handling the matters that were once handled by the late Duke.

And the King may be old and ill, but he was not blind. He suspected Hongjoong, and while he was not stupid, he was too trusting of those around him and that led him to ask you what you thought about the situation. You were thrown off by the question.

“I feel like I’ve made a mistake. It’s weighing on my heart and it will take my life sooner than expected.”

“But why do you feel so?” You asked. “I know that the registers were not substantial evidence but the circumstances…”

“I know,” he nodded. “It seems odd that the royal physician was aware of ruby’s role in my father’s death yet remained shut. I wonder why. Could he have a hand in wrongly accusing Woobin?”

It was then that you realised- Prince Woobin’s physician might have been a member of the bluebirds too. That made more sense than the doctor knowing ruby’s effects and letting them slide when you consulted him for the King- no doctor’s moral code would allow that. 

“But if you think Prince Woobin was innocent and the doctor acted on his own, that would mean he’s serving someone else.”

“Yeah, well,” the King shrugged. “Wouldn’t put past my son to have a hand in it. He’s been far too giddy ever since he got that thorn out of his side.”

You stifled a smile at that. “Isn’t he simply carrying out his duties?”

“Yes, that’s true. But he doesn’t have to look happy about it, does he? Even if I’m wrong and he’s simply doing his job…” the King faltered, coughing violently and you passed him a handkerchief. He wiped his mouth, smearing the piece of cloth with blood. “I can only imagine how happy he will be when I finally die.”

“He’s still your son,” you chided gently. “You’re his father. You can confront him about this if it’s bothering you so much, Your Majesty. This is clearly taking a toll on your health- I should look for other drugs-”

“No,” the King shook his head. “No more drugs. That’s enough. My time is near and I should not run away.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you pleaded. “But you don’t have to be in pain as you walk towards your inevitable death. Painkillers?”

The King chuckled at that. “You’re a brilliant doctor, y/n. I hope Hongjoong takes good care of you after I’m gone.”

Somehow, that sentence stuck with you for all the reasons and more. The King was the one person who had treated you like an actual human despite his position of power and authority. You had always found yourself comparing him to the Master- another person with power and authority yet no regard for his subjects. While the King had always patted your shoulder with affection, the Master had only ever touched you with a stick- the marks of which you still bore on your skin. While the King always encouraged you to make leaps in the medicinal field and use him as your ‘test subject’ which was an inside joke amongst all the doctors in the castle now, the Master had only ever criticised you.

Would it be so bad if you let the King live? Or were you doing him a favour by killing him? He would die a painless death and wouldn’t witness the doom of his empire. One death had already cost him a great deal- he surely couldn’t take more. Hongjoong wanted him to live a little longer and hand him the crown with his own hands before he passed on, but no matter how much you tried to convince Hongjoong that the King couldn’t live long, his pride wouldn’t let him admit that the King would never willingly crown him. It was why he urged you to look after him as best as you could and why he was so enthusiastic with his work lately. He had something to prove now.

And it was why, ultimately, you decided to let the King rest. He did not need to dig any deeper and find out that his own son and his royal physician had orchestrated this plan. He did not need to be in agony anymore. You slipped the silver light in his medicine and he took it unsuspectingly. You squeezed his wrist in silent gratitude for all he had done for you- from his heart. And then you went to your room and waited to hear the news.

It was too bad that the Prince himself had to be the one who delivered the news to you- 

“Did you do it?”

“You’re welcome… Your Majesty,” you said, finally getting him to let go of your neck. You glared at him as you rubbed your neck in an attempt to soothe the burning sensation. “Didn’t think you’d be so ecstatic to hear that.”

Hongjoong stared at you, for the first time feeling something resembling fear in his heart- the future looked uncertain and for once, the look in your eyes made him shiver. Hongjoong was realising how perhaps he, too, was at your mercy. You wanted him to take over the throne so you sped up the process for him, getting rid of his uncles and now his father. All for what? For the throne that was his anyway? And you didn’t even want to be queen until he suggested it- just why-

“The King died of ‘grief’, but really, it’s the silver light’s doing,” you told him, taking a few steps to close the distance between you two, placing a hand on his shoulder, your eyes scanning his face. “It’s too bad he couldn’t crown you with his own hands, but that’s okay. All that matters is that he’s gone and he didn’t discover the truth about your role in Prince Woobin’s death. We did it, Hongjoong. You did it.”

He did it. He trusted the wrong person and messed everything up. Sure, the fact that he was now the King made him ecstatic, but there was still something that bothered him-

And that was you.

You were unpredictable and dangerous. And he couldn’t have someone like that by his side in the long run. He could not continue dallying with you anymore.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” you urged him, planting soft kisses around his mouth and on the tip of his nose. “You don’t think I did something wrong, do you?”

“Of course not,” Hongjoong kissed your lips. “I just wanted to make sure if it really was you. Did I scare you?”

You shook your head despite the air being heavy with lies. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Hongjoong scoffed at that, looking down as he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief and pretending that your words did not feel like a stab in his back. “I’m just a little bummed that you didn’t tell me.”

“It was a… spur-of-the-moment decision,” you ran your hands across the silky material of his cream shirt. “But all’s well that ends well, isn’t that so?”

Hongjoong nodded. “They’ve taken him away- the funeral will be the day after tomorrow so Prince Woojin can attend.”

“Ah, he’s still here, huh?” You clicked your tongue. “Anything I can help with?”

“Oh, I’ve got that handled,” he assured you, caressing your cheek. “Now… can we stop talking and stop acting? Didn’t you say something about how you couldn’t wait until I got the title so you could say you fucked the King?”

You laughed at that, the two of you leaning in for a kiss that soon turned heated, resulting in discarded clothes on the floor. Hongjoong was rough with you tonight, feeling lightheaded with the weight of the new title on his head. It didn’t help that you kept teasing him, calling him the King or Your Majesty Hongjoong. Despite the gravity of the situation, it turned him on so damn much and he realised that he really was mad. But he couldn’t stop. 

He couldn’t stop until he fucked you hard, taking you from behind and making you become undone on his cock over and over again. He snaked his hand back on your neck as you reached your high, this time to crane your face towards him so he could see you. You locked eyes with him, his silver hair matted on his forehead and a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten. This time, he choked you the proper way right when you came.

You actually saw stars this time. You didn’t mind that he treated you like a ragdoll tonight, probably pouring all his frustrations, grief and anxiety into you. You didn’t mind that he used you like a tool, spanking you whenever you so much as looked at him the wrong way and making you rock on his hips or fingers even though you were an oversensitive bundle of nerves. 

For tonight, you were his and he was yours. You had him wrapped around your fingers and even though he was the one who wielded power and dominance over you, it was ultimately you who moved his strings and controlled his actions. You could only wish that he would remain ignorant for as long as possible. After all, it would be too much of a shame if you couldn’t be like this for just a while.

Hongjoong stopped thrusting his cum inside you, resting his forehead against your bare shoulder and catching his breath, sliding out moments later and watching the leaking cum out of you with an amused look. You smacked his arm and he scooted away so you could bundle the sheets around yourself as you lay next to him, tangling your limbs.

“This is it,” you whispered, kissing his chest. “This is where you’re meant to be.”

Hongjoong kissed the top of your head in answer and you thought his touch felt distant and cold but your mind was too hazy to make sense of it.

For now, you were in the King’s arms. And you were already planning how to make it an everyday ritual.

—------------------------------

Today, the Master’s big plan for the Kingdom of Wonderland was finally going to come to an epic conclusion- Prince Hongjoong was going to get crowned king and he was finally going to ascend the throne. Granted, the path had been rocky and bloody but he finally made it. 

You would be his royal physician now, and no one else’s. And oh, the sight of the empty seat next to his that was once the queen’s was bubbling desire in you for something that was not- or should not be- yours. You were just a piece in the Master’s plan and you becoming the queen was not a part of his scheme.

But you were tired of obeying the faceless Master when there was no guarantee that you would live to see the next day- or even the next moment. The bluebirds were everywhere. They could end you just as easily as you had ended the King. They were cooks, soldiers, doctors, guards and assassins. They sat at every post in the castle and you wouldn’t be surprised if the Master was prowling somewhere around here- especially today. He had to be present to see the scheme of his forefathers about to conclude. 

And you were wondering if it would be too bad if you made some alterations to the Master’s plan. If he had one of the bluebirds sit on the throne, he wouldn’t need to end the monarchy to have the kingdom flourish, would he? He could just have them manipulate the royals and make a puppet out of Hongjoong. And it wouldn’t be too bad if you were the one who sat on the throne, right?

“We should do something about the queen’s empty throne, huh?” 

You almost jumped at the sudden intrusion, looking behind to see Hongjoong’s aide, Mingi, walking towards you to stand beside you. The Hall wasn’t empty but the workers had been silently making arrangements and you had just stopped on your way to your room to get a look at how the preparations were going. 

Mingi was dressed in his official uniform, a number of badges and emblems on the ruby red coat. He smiled at you, continuing. “You’re thinking the King would need someone by his side, aren’t you?”

“I was just reminiscing,” you lied smoothly. “It seems like just yesterday that the late King and Queen sat here proudly and the Hall was full of life.”

“Ah,” Mingi nodded in understanding. “It’s been… a bit sad afterwards, hasn’t it? The King… the grief really clung to him.”

“I sometimes wonder if there’s no cure for grief,” you sighed. “If the loss of his wife wasn’t enough-”

“His brothers,” Mingi nodded. “It’s truly a shame. Prince Woojin has arrived for the coronation but he isn’t too pleased to be here.”

“He’s going to get exiled from his homeland, so I can understand why,” you said and he agreed. The two of you looked at the empty seats for a while before you said you had to get ready for the event and you parted ways. You went to your room to change into a ruby red gown, wearing the earrings Hongjoong had gifted you and tying your hair back. And right after, you went to sit by the window to take a breather.

The sky was clear today, and you wished Hongjoong’s intentions would be too. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was amiss from the night that he pounced on you, suspecting that you killed the King. Yes, you had without letting him know beforehand, but he knew this was inevitable. And you had done him a favour because the King was almost on to him, but Hongjoong just had to be an ungrateful fool. It truly was a shame.

A knock sounded on the door and you opened it to reveal one of Hongjoong’s guards, asking you to accompany him to the royal chambers. You got worried for a moment, wondering if there was a medical emergency but the guard assured you that the Crown Prince just needed to talk to you about something so you followed without the medical kit. Mingi let you in and left, saying he had some matters to attend to. You looked around, finding the chambers awfully empty now that the King was gone and none of his staff was present. You knocked on Hongjoong’s room and he hummed in answer so you let yourself in.

“I see you’re already struggling with the burden of being the King,” you commented, watching him struggle with the robe unceremoniously. “Where’re your maids?”

“I don’t like being dressed by them,” he muttered. “Help me?”

You softly chuckled, standing in front of him between the mirror to fasten the clips to his jacket and then you straightened his clothes. “You only like my hands on you, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Hongjoong smirked, watching you with a fondness that made you question if you had been wrong to suspect him. “I just wanted to see you before the coronation.”

“Someone’s finally feeling emotional, huh?” You teased and he laughed at that, resting his hands on your hips. “How does it feel to finally be the King of Wonderland, Your Majesty?”

“It hasn’t happened yet,” he raised a brow but you tsk-ed.

“That’s just formality, the event. You are the King. And I’m glad to be here with you right now,” you told him- you really were happy for him, from the bottom of your heart. “All those library sessions finally earned us the crown.”

Hongjoong nodded, not commenting on how you used the term ‘us’. As if the crown belonged to you too. He supposed you had the right to feel like that after being his sword and his shield. 

“Can you come see me after the coronation, in the music room?” Hongjoong asked, gently cupping your face with one hand. “I’d like to give you something.”

“Really?” You asked, searching his eyes for an answer but finding nothing. You felt your heart thump with excitement at the prospect of what this could entail. The silly voice in your head told you that maybe he really was going to crown you or at least make a promise.

“Okay,” you nodded, kissing his palm. “I’ll be there.”

Hongjoong smiled at that and leaned in to kiss you, deep and passionate like none of the kisses you had ever received from him before. Your back arched as you wrapped your arms around his neck and melted into the kiss, his arm around your back bringing you closer. You kissed for a long time before he broke apart and you laughed a little, telling him that you should be going to mark your attendance at the Hall. Hongjoong let you go with a final kiss to the top of your head, promising to see you later.

You had to admit that you were confused by the sudden change in his behaviour, but maybe he had been a bit cold towards you for the past couple of days because of the stress. The Prince had always been a moody man but that didn’t mean that you weren’t hyper-aware of everything he said to you or the way he acted towards you ever since you got rid of the King. If there was one thing you had realised the past few months, it was that you were on your own. The Master wasn’t going to take care of you or protect you if you messed up. The Prince would always protect his crown first before and he would gladly frame you if he ever felt threatened. You were aware of that, and as much as you desired the Crown Prince, his power, and perhaps, the seat next to his, you weren’t going to be unprepared.

When you went to the Hall, you were greeted by many. You had been the King’s royal physician and his confidante of sorts, especially after his aide retired. Tonight, you were going to honour him by lighting the torch that marked the King’s absence before the coronation would begin. The late Queen’s torch would be lit by Prince Woojin, the Duke of Mist Island.

There was a murmur spreading throughout the Hall as Prince Woojin entered, clad not in the official red but black- for mourning. He hadn’t been staying at the castle ever since he arrived for the Duke’s execution and just when he was about to leave the Capital, he heard the news of the King and came to attend the funeral, extending his stay a few more days as per Hongjoong’s request. He joined you at the front row, a few empty seats away from you but you got up and greeted him, just like you would have greeted the late King.

“Have you been well?” Prince Woojin asked. “I heard that you were quite close to my brother.”

You sighed deeply. “I’m alright, thank you for asking. I hope you’ve been well too.”

Prince Woojin shrugged in answer. As the youngest of the three, he was quite the oddball of the family, lacking any desire for the throne since the beginning and keeping to governing the northern region of Wonderland where the islands were located, collectively referred to as the Mist Islands. Unlike the other Duke, he never argued about the policies either, only following the late King’s orders. You supposed there were people in this world who weren’t born with the innate desire for power after all. Prince Woojin was a living example of that.

“Do you think I should start packing up after the coronation?” Prince Woojin asked, surprising you. “I’ve heard rumours that I’m going to be exiled. As if living on Mist Islands isn’t an exile itself.” 

You frowned- you weren’t surprised that he had heard that, but why did he ask you? Was this just small talk or was he on to something? “Did you never want to rule the islands, Your Highness?”

“It’s not that,” he chuckled. “But it’s quite a trip from here, isn’t it? I just wish I had seen my brother more often when he was alive.”

“Well… Prince Woobin did,” you shrugged, and Prince Woojin heard the rest of the sentence even though you didn’t say it out loud. Look where that got him.

“For a long time, I’ve thought that whoever sets their eyes on the throne is doomed,” Prince Woojin said and you listened to his words carefully. “For a while now, the position has birthed tragic endings. Woobin’s death has only strengthened my belief. Even if I was offered the position, I wouldn’t take it.”

You made an impressed face, nodding at the man who looked older than his brothers despite being in his late forties. “You’re very wise, Prince Woojin-”

“Do you covet the throne, my dear?” Prince Woojin looked at you and your mouth parted in surprise at his observation- or guess. Whatever it was. 

“I… don’t, really,” you admitted, looking towards the empty seats. “I guess I covet power and control. For at least once in my life, I would like to be free to make my own decisions and have no one influence my path.”

“Let me tell you something,” he leaned towards you, just as the doors opened revealing the Crown Prince. “You don’t need to sit there to have power or control over your life. That is a cage that looks like salvation, and once you take the crown, there’s no going back. You’re trapped until death. You’ll be controlled by forces you can’t even see. At least right now, you’ll have what? One? Two people influencing your life?”

You glanced at Hongjoong who narrowed his eyes when he saw the two of you conversing. Turning your attention to the Duke, you nodded. “You’re right. It really is a cage, isn’t it?”

Prince Woojin smiled, slumping back and nodding. He looked at where his nephew was, who was being marched towards the throne with Mingi by his side. You and Prince Woojin stood up and the rest followed. You went towards the torches in the middle of the room, standing in front of each other. One of the servants brought a candle to you and you lit the King’s torch first, locking eyes with Prince Woojin. He smiled at you, taking the candle from your hand before lighting the Queen’s torch. After the fire from them rose to a certain height, you both turned towards Hongjoong who was waiting for the signal at the end of the room. He bowed back and turned to receive the crown.

“The lone survivor,” Prince Woojin commented. “For how long, I wonder.”

Your heart sank at his words and you slowly turned to face him. It couldn’t be, could it? Prince Woojin only smiled knowingly at you and then applause sounded across the room, with a chorus of ‘Long Live His Majesty King Hongjoong!’ sounding across the room. While he looked magnificent in the crown, you were left pondering over the Duke’s question.

For how long?

When things got a bit busy, you made one last attempt to tie your fate to Hongjoong’s. You went to your room and wrote a letter, tucking it under the bed like you always did. And then you went to the music room to wait for the new king. You were starting to feel a sense of finality washing over you and to cope with what was surely coming, you started to press your fingers to the piano, the movements feeling foreign but strangely intimate- as if the notes meant to comfort you and pass you silent assurances.

You supposed that was the reason why, when the King finally entered the room with a guarded look on his face and two soldiers by his side, you weren’t surprised. You only scoffed in mock amusement, shaking your head.

“Doctor y/n, royal physician to the late King,” King Hongjoong announced. “You are under arrest for the murder of the late King.”

You let out a short laugh which soon turned maniacal and Hongjoong signalled the guards to give you both some privacy. They went to stand outside the room though the door was kept open.

“You’ll regret this, oh, you will,” you said when you finally got up, taking off the ruby earrings. “This will be the moment you will look back to soon.”

Hongjoong only smiled in answer. “You’re a threat to me as you were to the King. I can’t have you prowling around, you must understand.”

“Of course,” you walked to him and took his hand, slamming the earrings on his palm and curling his fingers over it. “The crown suits you, Hongjoong. Make the most of it while you can.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” He raised a brow. 

You smiled, leaning in to whisper something in his ear, making him freeze. You kissed his cheek before drawing away, getting one good look at all that glory, memorising the face of the person you had crowned, the eyes that had betrayed you long ago, the lips that had always served as a distraction to make you blind to what had been brewing in his mind all along, and then at his hands that had led you to your doom. Before he could stop you, you walked past him and surrendered yourselves to the soldier, mockingly bowing at him.

Even though you could taste your tears, your lips were curved in a smile. You may have doomed yourself but-

You would not be alone. 

You had tied your fate to Hongjoong’s long ago. Your paths had been intertwined since the beginning and would remain so.

You had heard from the Master once- that it takes a monster to destroy another monster. Perhaps, you took his words literally- you became a monster just so you could take another down. You did not regret one bit of it.

—--------------------------

You had watched many executions take place in the square. You had watched the recent execution of the Duke beside Hongjoong.

However, you did not imagine you would be watching the very empty throne from the square, on your knees with your hands tied in front of you- still with Hongjoong beside you, in a similar state.

“Quite a view from up here, isn’t it?” You commented. “Bet the Duke was too infuriated to admire it when it was his time.”

Hongjoong didn’t reply, looking at the rope that was wound around his hands and then back at the throne that he had sat on for barely a day. He clicked his tongue in anger when he spotted Prince Woojin. He didn’t sit on the throne but went to stand at the edge to watch.

This time, the square was empty save for the two of you. No one needed to witness this ugly conclusion, you supposed. It was just a few officials from the castle and-

Mingi. Watching you from the shadows and motioning with his finger towards the opposite direction-

At Prince Woojin. You frowned in confusion but then he crossed his heart and then his wrist, and understanding washed over you. 

Mingi was a bluebird, and so was Prince Woojin. You realised then that your doom had been inevitable. You were meant to die with Hongjoong from the very beginning. Mingi had made sure that happened, and Prince Woojin, who had to be one of the masterminds, had tricked you into planting the letter under your bed. The letter confirmed that Hongjoong had ordered you to kill the King and had fabricated the evidence to get the Duke executed for a crime he did not commit. That way, they had an official confession to get you both arrested and ready for trial. 

But… Prince Woojin had to be someone who worked closely with the Master who had trained you. The Master had to be present today- you looked around, finding some familiar faces but failing to recognise him.

“No one’s coming to save you, Princess,” Hongjoong scoffed and you raised a brow as you looked at him.

“Fuck you too, Hongjoong.” 

Hongjoong shook his head in amusement, looking at you with a strange expression- was that affection in his eyes? You frowned. “You don’t have to fake your feelings anymore. At least be true to me- to yourself- in your last moments.”

“No point wishing I could kill you with my own hands anymore when we’re both going to the same place,” Hongjoong said, his body shaking as he stifled a fit of laughter. You shook your head at that.

“Isn’t it funny?” You attempted to change the subject, wanting a distraction from the way your knees felt numb from kneeling for so long now. “We were doomed from the beginning, you and I. We were both pieces in a game that was being played by these people- the masterminds, from so long ago. Did they ever foresee this moment?”

“Pieces, you say?” Hongjoong asked, wondering who these masterminds were- had he lost the real game while he got high on what looked like a victory to him? “Were you a spy?”

“A bluebird,” you confessed with a short laugh as tears pricked the corner of your eyes. “They’re everywhere, Hongjoong. They’re watching us right now.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened as he took a look around, finding all the eyes present trained on him. All his life, he had felt like he did not truly belong in the castle but never once had he felt it with this magnitude. He felt like an imposter in his own home.

“So this was all a part of your plan?” Hongjoong asked. His words carried no bitterness or disdain. He simply wanted answers.

“It wasn’t,” you shook your head. “At least, not this,” you raised your tied hands in the air and looked at him. “I really wanted you to rule, Hongjoong. Even if it was just for a day.”

“Well, you got what you wanted-”

“That was what they wanted,” you continued. “I tried to find a way out of this, but you have to understand that I was trapped. By them. By you. I told you that I would make sure to undo everything and sit next to you when you got me arrested, but… the bluebirds got us. I didn’t think I’d sit next to you in the square.”

The rays of the sun were starting to peek from behind the arched roof of the elevation where Prince Woojin stood watching you both. You shut your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin. You were going to be cold for an eternity now.

“Feel that, Hongjoong?” You asked, unmoving. “Another thing we took for granted.”

“The sun?” 

“This warmth,” you looked at him, spotting the grim face of the executioners making their way from the other end of the square, the soldiers and court members taking their respective positions. “Did you ever take your time to feel it? Did you ever feel something similar?”

“I wasn’t always a cold, calculating bastard,” Hongjoong chuckled, glad you were talking to him right now. He somehow felt lighter. “I felt warmth in my mother’s arms.”

“I didn’t,” you told him and he looked at you but there was no pity in his eyes, only understanding. “I felt warmth when the King talked to me like I was his daughter.”

Hongjoong smiled at that, looking at his tied hands. The executioners paused when they saw that emotion on his King’s face, allowing just another moment. You looked back at Hongjoong, strands of silver hair covering his glazed eyes.

“Did you ever love me?” 

Hongjoong’s smile only deepened at that. “Did you?”

“Maybe I did,” you cocked your head, waiting for an answer.

“Maybe I did too,” he raised a brow. “We must have been lovers in our past life.”

“Or maybe we were enemies, and this was my twisted attempt at redemption,” you said and he chuckled. “Maybe we’ll actually do ourselves justice in the next life. If there is one.”

“Death won’t do us part,” he said and you finally let the tears fall even though your heart warmed at his words.

The executioners appeared in front of you, their swords gleaming and ready by their side. Hongjoong had personally requested execution by the sword instead of the guillotine though he never mentioned his reasons for this choice. He raised his tied hands in the air and the executioner looked towards Prince Woojin for confirmation. You narrowed your eyes at the Prince, wondering if he would take the throne or demolish the monarchical system but your thoughts got interrupted when you found your executioner untying the ropes around your hands as well. 

Confused, you looked at Hongjoong who extended his hand, prompting you to take it. You intertwined your fingers with his, squeezing them. He held your hand with considerable strength as if he meant to convey his fear for what was ahead but assure you that he was here, with you. 

“Death won’t do us part,” he promised and shut his eyes. 

You shut your eyes with a smile, thankful for his promise. Maybe in the next life, you would meet again under better circumstances, unburdened by lies and guilt, greed and lust. For the first time, you saw something other than red.

You saw silver- muted but warm, like Hongjoong’s hair. Bright and glaring like the colour of the drug, silver light, that doomed you. Distant and beautiful like the stars you saw at night while you rested in Hongjoong’s arms. Twinkling and intoxicating like the stars Hongjoong made you see when he made love to you.

You saw silver- glorious and absolute like the sword that painted you both red.

[insanescriptist]

Flip the Table

Casually eavesdropping on what should be highly secure frequencies, Jason sipped his beer in a sleezy saloon style sports bar somewhere on the Vegas strip, nominally watching college(?) football; he's a hockey fan because baseball's boring as shit to watch and he's never got the appeal about American football. Football to the rest of the world was at least worth watching for the drama. Something had the Justice League in a tizzy and Zatanna -the one who normally covered Vegas when it came to the costumed crazies- was off world; Jason didn't have the details exactly but it sounded like Zatanna was dealing with some magical planar stuff and was not expected back for at least six more days. Assuming all went well.

So like any reasonable person who's going away for a time, she turned on her home security, had the alerts wired over to a friend -in this case Justice League Dark- gave a list of what was needed to be done and when -the pick up my mail and mow my lawn equivalants- went on her trip, trusting that the JLD were watching over her city and it wouldn't be on fire when she got back.

Such glorious hope.

And thus something happened so when Jason pulled into Vegas proper to investigate a desperate -read last hope- lead on a missing person's case, Jason happened to spy one of the lesser members of the JLD losing their shit in the sky. And so in a moment of civic duty, Jason started spying on them.

Magic was not something anyone trained by the Bat really ever got comfortable about, but chances were magic bullshit was going to intervene in his case. Justice League shit spilled over everything, all the time. Ghost cultists tripping Zatanna's necromancy alarms or whatever they were, was not Jason's business. Not unless the presumed cultists -those that had survived- had the person he was looking for.

No, he was looking at a missing person's case and his lead was 1. cold and 2. a longshot and 3. in a city full of tourists and catering staff, where "seen anything unusual lately" could be "there was this trio of tourists arguing how sex with your best friend doesn't count as cheating," or "someone having a meltdown over the delayed shipping of organic blueberries to the hotel," or "Sarah Maria got murdered a couple weeks ago on the job, but I haven't seen any notice about her funeral stuff on her social media, why yes, I do know she's dead, oh, she's dead and I'm an idiot for expecting someone dead to post on their socials their funeral deets."

Point was, he could look and ask all he wanted, beat feet for days, but the chances of this lead panning out were basically so minuscule that Jason could treat this more as a hobby case while on vacation. He still did his due diligence, asked the staff a few questions, called the guests on the same floor during the time period of their stay about how they found their stay, ran into the dead end of shitty business practices -they recorded over their own records every two weeks- and so unless Jason got the ability to do magic and do a "point me!" spell, the case would turn cold. It sucked when it happened but sometimes the evidence wasn't there. Or wasn't noticed or was destroyed before it could be collected. Sometimes people just didn't remember shit until three weeks later, which with some follow up digging gave him the lead to the hotel. Which got him nothing after that.

As Jason Todd didn't gain an innate ability to do magic that he was aware of that actually counted as magic bullshit magic instead of a couple cantrips, all he could do was get a beer and some food in a Vegas style Texas saloon bar. Which not his first choice, but it was full enough no one really paid attention to anyone. Technically a sport's bar but also very much was not. It was also busy enough that Jason ended up getting asked if someone could set with him at his table -which real Jason said hell no to, but cover Jason did agree to-

Oh. Meta. Jason realized quickly. Oh no, he's hot.

His hair is on fire!

How did the server miss that? Most metas don't casually out themselves like that! Too many people willing to target them for whatever power.

That hair was flaming, tied back in a low tail; Jason blinked and the hair flickered color, looked like normal hair -black- and then back to white fire, then black fire, some tv static abomination of color, white hair and then black hair. Another blink and it appeared to be black flames for hair and yeah, Jason closed his eyes. Pointedly ignored the hair thing. If the meta asked, Jason was judging him for the stupid little goatee.

The rest of the meta was built along the same lines as Jason himself, tall, broad and built. Packed with muscle, which was something to make note of; metas usually were more durable and could hit harder, so Jason casually made note to not get hit if a fight broke out.

Which it might, or probably would.

That's just how Jason's luck ran. To shit.

Said meta also ordered food and a beer, didn't even get asked for ID -unfair bias- and judging by the sound, turned in the seat to look at the American football screen that Jason had been ignoring. His hair had at least settled to black flames instead of the glitchy hair.

Of course as this was Vegas, people gambled on outcomes of games too. Which is how Jason learned the meta was rich enough to blow a couple grand -not expensive in the world of supers- but more than what the average person would be comfortable betting.

There were better ways to piss away money than gambling on sports. Like on over priced burgers and onion rings with an order of mozzerella sticks. The burger was good, admittedly Jason's had better and then some party of guys was yelling at the ref on a screen. And yup, that's some altercation with another table but the barman broke it up with a couple of words.

His tablemate muttered something about the ref having made the right call if one of the players wanted to continue a career professionally and Jason used that as social leverage to get a name -Dan, no last name given- and a bit more in-depth explanation on what stakes were going on; he's a hockey guy, not a football guy.

Some time later, Dan had caught him up on the football drama -nothing compared to the hockey drama- and conversation had drifted significantly from sports, lightly touched on family -Dan had siblings he shared little about other than they existed, which fair, they could also be metas and at risk- much like Jason did -he had siblings that existed, no further details- and parents weren't mentioned. Instead a lot of engineering talk, a slide into ethics -Dan's opinion on killing super villains was very much that some people needed Ended- and some small talk about how Dan's high school English teacher cursed in classical book titles.

Soon the easy joy of potential friendship ended when his phone rang; that was the Batman ringtone and Jason felt no guilt hanging up on him. And again. And again.

Then Dick rang and nope. He was not dealing with their shit. Dick would just sweeten up whatever shit B wanted to shovel.

And then Oracle's ringtone rang. Oh, now that was serious. Justice League shit spilling into his life again. No fucking doubt about it.

"Uh-huh, so what's up? Because I gotta say, I am a couple drinks in and the whole bar is waiting for one of the football teams to fumble or foul up their next play so they can throw down."

"Jay-" She started because much like Bruce, she would rather go straight into the mission, and Jason absolutely had wrong-footed her. Because instead of making excuses to leave, Jason had absolutely stayed. So now she had to rephrase things on the fly because who knows who might be listening in. "Hey, it's on the news that the Justice League is showing up in Vegas; something about investigating something magical showing up."

"Uh-huh, that's not a surprise. There was some magic ninny flying in a panic earlier. I decided it wasn't my business."

"I hadn't heard that," -bullshit, she just hadn't double-checked that herself yet- "but what I did hear that some cult might have succeeded in bringing something over."

"Uh-huh. Well, no one's praying to Cthulu yet, there's been no troublemaking beyond the usual human malice and nothing's on fire."

"We were just concer-" And Jason hung up on Oracle.

He'd pay for that later, but petty was satisfying now.

"Sounded important."

"Was bullshit."

"So an entity summoned by a cult that tripped a bunch of magicians into a tizzy-"

Yeah, those sharp ears were not for show. Enhanced hearing check. "That's a bunch of incompetents panicking." Time for his good guess to hit or miss. "You're not going to decide to destroy Vegas, are you?"

"Done it before, doing it again seems pointlessly petty." Statements Jason wasn't going to prod further right now.

"And what if Wisconson University loses?"

"Might flip the table." Dan shrugged.

"More beer?" Jason asked.

"Sure."

[tiredfox64]

Omg I loved the Lin Kuei brothers and Reader having a cat but I have an even funnier idea:

Reader can turn into a cat and back into a human whenever she wants (and maybe the brothers are like “oh my god she’s adorable” or something fluffy like that) Maybe even slight NSFW?? I swear one of them has a kink for kitty reader and I bet it’s Bi-Han

Sorry I had an interview for a job at a cat shelter so I’m on a kitty fix right now🤣🤣🤣

Kitty’s got Claws

Yip notes: Alright Professor McGonagall

Pairings: Lin Kuei Bros x Cat! Afab reader

Warnings‼️: You are naked when you switch so it might get suggestive at the end but overall fluff

You’re an odd one. Really odd.

Ever since Bi-Han took you in and saved you from freezing to death there were suspicions about you. Not bad suspicions like you were a spy or anything. No, it was more about your behavior. It’s not fully human if that makes sense. You have an aura of primal intent and attitude with you. Almost like a cat…hmm.

You worked like a hunter which Tomas caught onto. You were stealthy and quiet. You would accidentally scare other clansmen because you walked into a room without making any noise. It didn’t make it any better that you had this resting angry face. You had this intense glare that made others feel like you were judging their souls.

Your face changed only when any of the brothers came around. Suddenly you seemed like the friendliest being ever.

The moment Tomas steps into the same room as you your eyes would grow wide. Some even said your pupils dilate. Some theorized that maybe you were in love with him. A person’s pupils dilate when they see someone they love. But then when you would see Kuai Liang you were clinging onto him. Now everyone thought you were in love with Kuai Liang, some even saying you were in love with both brothers. Ohh scandalous.

Then there was your reaction to Bi-Han. You were grateful that he let you into the Lin Kuei. He gave you shelter, warmth, and food, of course you’re gonna be drawn to him. Though at the same time, you kept your distance. You don’t like to spar with him or have him touch you. You reacted negatively to his cold touch. You must really hate the cold which is strange for someone who has…

Fur

Yes, you are a human woman, but…there is more to you. You can transform yourself into an animal. Based on some of your actions and behavior it’s clear you are a cat. But nobody knew that fact about you. That’s okay, you didn’t mind. You’re a cat you don’t care.

You would stay in human form all the time to prevent others from finding out your secret but the truth is…being a human is hard. It sucks. You have responsibilities all the time. If you’re gonna live with the Lin Kuei you must have a purpose. Sometimes you just want to be a sleeping cat without any responsibilities. No one likes to disturb a sleeping cat. So once in a while, you transform into your other form and lounge around in that form. You’ll find a hiding spot where no one will find you and sleep away.

You might just do that now. Just don’t let Bi-Han catch you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Bi-Han was searching high and low for you. He had a task for you yet you were nowhere to be found. He was questioning why this happens so often with you. When he asked you where you were you would tell him somewhere. No place in specific, you were just somewhere.

He went looking in the kitchen area to see if maybe you were eating something. Nope, you weren’t there, or so he thought. He was about to walk out until his eyes caught something. There was a weird blob on top of the cabinets in the corner. His mind could not comprehend what it was, but he could see that it seemed fuzzy.

He walked over to it and observed it for a little longer. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. He began knocking on the cabinets to try to see if the vibrations would make it move. And it worked! A head popped up with its ears pointed high up. A tail swung down and curled a little to show that it was displeased. Oh by the Elder gods, it’s just a cat.

Well, it’s actually you but Bi-Han doesn’t know that yet.

You stood up from your position, stretching your body into a perfect arch. You looked around to see what disturbed you. When you looked down you saw your grandmaster staring up at you, a mixture of confusion and irritation painted on his face. You stared back at him with your pupils going wide then back to split when you realized the situation.

Bi-Han had a feeling that this was not the first time he had met this cat. The eyes felt familiar. The color of the fur seemed familiar as well. His mind was working overtime trying to process how a cat got into the temple. He began blaming you in his head because this cat resembled you. He thought you snuck it in somehow.

His thoughts were interrupted when you decided to make a break for it. You ran on top of the cabinets until you got to the end of them. You leaped off and landed on your feet. You booked it out of the kitchen and you heard Bi-Han yelling after you. A game of cat and mouse was initiated except you were the mouse and Bi-Han was the cat. How ironic.

Bi-Han was hot on your tail. You were using all your kitty muscles to rocket you across the hallways. You would slide while your claws scratched against the wood before you continued running. Bi-Han had to dodge other clansmen who were in the way. You could hear them being scolded by him.

“Who let this cat in?!”

You didn’t know where to go. You couldn’t run in circles until Bi-Han grew tired. You would be the first to slow down and he would catch you. You couldn’t risk that. The only place you thought of running to was your room.

You bolted, happy to see you left the door slightly ajar. You rushed in and tried to shut the door but your body couldn’t make it close fully. You had to hide. You ran under your bed and transformed back into your human form. Soon after, Bi-Han came bursting in. His eyes scanned the room for any movement. He started looking in your closet, under your clothes pile, under your sheets. No sign of a cat. This whole time you were watching his feet move around your room. Your heart was going crazy as he got closer to you.

The only other place he could check was under your bed. He got down on his knees and looked under. He wasn’t expecting to find you hiding under there.

“Wha-what, wait, where is the cat?” He asked.

Your eyes shifted before answering, “What cat?”

“Don’t play dumb. I saw the cat run into your room. I know it’s—where are your clothes?”

He noticed you were without clothes. Like you were full-on naked. His mind went through another processing moment that was as slow as connecting to the internet back in the day. There are too many weird coincidences going on. He might have a theory on what’s going on.

You watched as his eyes narrowed before he said something, “You better become a cat again right now or I swear to—”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Kuai Liang and Tomas were curious to know why Bi-Han told them to meet him in his office. He said it was urgent but also very stupid. They thought he got an injury that was due to something dumb and that’s why they had to come quickly. They didn’t expect to find him holding a cat in his arms and immediately trying to pass it to them.

“Brother, where did you find that cat?” Kuai Liang asked a reasonable question.

“Aww, look at this little cutie.” And Tomas asked no questions.

Tomas immediately grabbed you and held you in his arms. He was gentle with you despite being a rough, muscular man. He began scratching behind your ears and you started purring. He could feel you rumbling against his chest. You looked up at him and could see his wide smile. There was so much joy in his eyes you could practically see the serotonin flowing into his brain. You lifted your paws up and started tapping on his face with your precious beans. All Tomas could feel was your soft fur tickling his face. Not a bit of claw was present.

Kuai Liang saw Bi-Han glaring at Tomas for not taking this seriously even though he hadn’t explained the situation to them.

“When did we get a cat?” Kuai Liang asked his question a little louder which alerted Bi-Han.

“We have had this cat longer than we realized.”

“So this cat snuck in?”

They still weren’t getting the issue. Bi-Han took you away from Tomas which made him pout a little. He placed you on the ground and pointed you to go behind the desk.

Just before both the brothers walked in, Bi-Han had you come in as a human first. You transformed which left your clothes on the floor. He organized your clothes so you could go back to being a human in seconds without being naked. He needed Kuai Liang and Tomas to see your power.

You went behind his desk and shimmied into your laid-out clothes. You transformed back into your human form before standing up. Kuai Liang and Tomas were rightfully shocked. Tomas was looking down at his hands as he took in the fact that he was petting you the whole time. A blush crept onto his face. This information was weird to intake.

You transformed back into a cat and leaped onto Bi-Han’s desk. He was about to tell you to get off but Kuai Liang picked you up before his brother could scold you. You succumbed to the warmth he was emitting. Unlike Tomas where you were purposely keeping his attention on you, you wanted to relax with Kuai Liang. He was warm like a heated blanket. With the way he was holding you, it became a weighted heated blanket.

“What is the issue then?”

Bi-Han was baffled at his brother’s question, “The issue? Look at her.” He pointed his finger right in your face which prompted you to swipe at him.

“Yes, I can see that she is a cat. But that doesn’t change that she is part of the Lin Kuei. She is a good member. This cat form is not a negative. We could use her to our advantage. Just think about it.” Kuai Liang raised you up to Bi-Han’s face.

You watched as the gears turned in his head. Yeah, what really was the issue? He wasn’t even thinking about kicking you out. Kuai Liang made a good point that they could use this form to their advantage. You could sneak into places and gain information since everyone would think you were a regular cat. Fine, maybe he was being rash again.

“I see your point. I guess there is no issue.” Bi-Han tried to be nicer by petting the top of your head.

You didn’t like his cold hand on you but you tried to be nice. Though your ears and tail gave away your true feelings. Your ears were like airplane wings as they went to the side and your tail curled again. Kuai Liang pulled you away since he could see you were not enjoying yourself. He placed his hand on top of your head to warm you up.

“But stop hiding from me so you can take a nap.”

Hissssss

That was a nasty noise you made to Bi-Han.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

The clan grew to understand your power. And of course, no one truly cared so Bi-Han was just being dramatic. The only difference was that you were walking around as a cat more. And boy, were Kuai Liang and Tomas loving it.

They didn’t share this information with Bi-Han but they found you incredibly adorable. You had the softest fur and the cutest toe beans. Careful, they might squeeze you to death.

You were always begging Tomas for his attention. He could be eating and you would leap onto the table so you could bang your head against his arm. He would have no choice but to pet you. He can’t resist your cuteness. He would place you on his lap so he could feed you salmon slices. That’s when you could show off those scary canines of yours. Ooo ain’t you a vicious predator.

You liked playing with Kuai Liang since he lets you mess around with his kusarigama. He’d wave the rope in front of you and watch your head follow it before lunging towards it. He wouldn’t normally do this with a cat because of the kunai at the end but you aren’t just a cat. You have a big brain even if this form is small. He liked watching you slide against the wooden floors before scurrying to catch the rope. You would get rewarded for your hard work, don’t worry. You get bits of duck to nibble on as he petted down your fur.

But Bi-Han, yeah no. He doesn’t treat you any different but when you are a cat he doesn’t bother to interact with you. Yeah, you’re not big on him petting you especially because he’s too rough sometimes. But the least he could do was throw down a slice of ham for you.

You’re deprived of his affection. You started to believe he had something against cats but there was little evidence supporting that belief. If you couldn’t beg for the affection, you might as well hunt for it.

Four times out of the week you would sneak into Kuai Liang’s or Tomas’ room to sleep with them…NOT IN THAT WAY NASTY!

You would go in your cat form and snuggle up against them. If you went into Tomas’ he would cuddle you like you were a plush toy. You would not be let go until sunrise. That man likes having a cuddle buddy. When you go to Kuai Liang you are usually using him as a personal heater. He doesn’t cuddle you like Tomas but he does have you rest near him. Sometimes you are on his chest, purring away until you pass out. Sometimes he pets you until he falls asleep. On rare occasions he keeps you on his pillow and you rest your kitty head on his forehead.

That’s all fun and relaxing and you would never give that up. But you decided that might be the best time to get Bi-Han’s attention. He would be too tired to deal with you. He would have to accept you into his bed. And since this night you were feeling too hot to fall asleep, you thought it would be the best time to execute your plan.

You transformed into your cat form and brought along your favorite blanket. You marched through the dark hallways, dragging your blanket along. When you got to Bi-Han’s door you began to bang your head on it. That was how you usually woke the others up. It did wake him up but he didn’t want to get up. He knew it was you out there. He’s not going to open that door.

You stopped banging once your head started to hurt. You switched gears and decided to cry for him.

Bi-Han heard your meows. They continued for a long, long time. Meow, miau, m’yau, with a little creeeeeuuu in the mix. This was torturous, how is he gonna fall asleep now? He couldn’t deal with it. He got out of his bed and marched over to the door. He opened it and was about to yell at you to shut up but you were already making your way in. You passed his legs with your blanket grazing his ankle. He tried shutting the door to catch the blanket and make you stop but he was a second too late. You heard him groan as you leaped onto his bed.

“No, no, no, you get out of my bed right now.” He was about to grab you but you smacked him.

You freaking smacked him! The smack could be heard as you reeled your paw back to strike again. He tried going in again but your little fists of fury were too fast.

“You stop that right now. I am your grandmaster, you should not be treating me like this.” For a man so high and might he sure was losing poorly to you.

You gave him one more smack and he finally backed off. He stared at you as you prepped his bed. You were kneading his bed.

Yeah! Make those biscuits! Screw letting Bi-Han sleep you gotta make biscuits!

“Why do you want to sleep on my bed tonight? I thought you hated being cold.”

You couldn’t give him a response because you’re a cat who is not named Salem. You started licking your paws and rubbing them against your ears to give him the idea that you were hotter tonight. You needed him to keep you cool.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was dealing with this at midnight. His body yelled at him to get back into bed and sleep. He was too tired so he decided to give you half of his bed. Only for tonight! In the morning you better get out. He sighed before climbing back into bed.

“Fine, you win. But stay on your side. Do not think about changing back into a human while I am asleep. I better wake up to you with cat ears and a tail or else you will be punished.” He warned you.

The moment he laid down you walked over to him and curled up next to him. He would push you away but it’s no use. You would come back. So instead he wrapped his arm around your curled-up body and tried to fall asleep.

Mission accomplished: You got your grandmaster’s attention. Now give him hell.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

The morning sun rose to the blue sky and shined its light into Bi-Han’s room. He was awoken and tried to recall everything that happened the night prior. All he could remember was your high-pitched whines and you falling asleep in his bed.

His hand went to find your small body. He expected to feel your soft fur but was instead met with your soft skin. He froze, not sure if he should yell or keep quiet. He was really hoping his hand was near your stomach cause if his hand is on your boob or thigh he was gonna freak out in multiple ways.

His head slowly turned towards you and he was shocked to find you still had cat ears and a tail. You absolute smartass. You never told him that you could become a catgirl. You could be a cat. You could be a girl. You could be both! At least his hand was not on an intimate part of your body.

Technically, you listened to what he said. You still have your ears and tail. The issue was that you were in human form and were naked…in his bed…it looks wrong if you didn’t catch that.

He tried to pull his arm away from you but you clung onto him. Your nails were digging into his arm like you were afraid to lose him. You were still asleep, you weren’t doing this on purpose. Bi-Han wanted to yell at you to wake up and put clothes on but he knew that would bring too much attention. Even if he woke you up he didn’t want to confront you about this. That’s just awkward.

Bi-Han decided to wait it out. He waited for you to wake up and he pretended to be asleep. You woke up and thought your little plan failed. You didn’t want to stick around until he woke up. You turned back into your cat form, grabbed your blanket, and scurried out of there. Bi-Han let out a sigh of relief before getting ready. Though he wasn’t fully there in his head.

Bi-Han’s mind was in other places. See, when he saw you with your ears and tail that might have woken something else inside of him. He can’t figure it out fully but from what he has gather, he is feeling more attracted to you. Well, not that he wasn’t before you are a beautiful woman. But you being in his bed with your cute ears out and your tail all curled, alright well damn he might invite you in more. Actually, he might want to have you around more in general. That’s if his brothers will allow it.

This might not have been the first time you pulled off this trick. Bi-Han sure got a kink, I MEAN, kick out of it.

Yap notes: Sorry for not posting last two days. I went out the other day and yesterday my depression kicked my butt. I almost didn’t write today cause one of my wounds opened up again but I said it don’t make a difference. I can’t keep starving y’all. Adiós!

[fandomnerd9602]

Winter Comfort (🌶️)

Wolf!Natasha x Reader

The weather predictions weren’t looking good for the entire upper east coast. The forecast was a winter blizzard would be making its way through and the Westview sanctuary was right in the blizzard’s path.

You and Natasha worked hard to fortify the sanctuary and your apartment from the coming storm.

“We should all stay at my apartment, Natasha” you told your girlfriend only for Yelena to interrupt.

“What about my cave? It’s roomy, open aired and I literally just answered my own question” Natasha huffs, “fine. But I want cuddles and a James Bond film”

“Deal” you answer with a smile.

“You two lovebirds can stay at your apartment,” the blond wolf chimed, “I am going to wait out the storm with Kate Bishop”

“I feel terrible for Kate” Natasha smirked. “Putting up with you? Oof”

Yelena rolled her eyes and jumped into her jeep, driving off to meet up with her best friend.

You and your wolf girlfriend got the hybrids all comfortable and the place well heated. The back up generator was good to go.

And with that, the sanctuary was fortified and ready for the storm. You and Natasha went back to your apartment.

You and Natasha cooked dinner, danced to a few favorite songs and then found yourselves curled up on your couch watching a classic James Bond movie.

“You always known how to treat me” Natasha giggles as she lays in your arms. She begins grinding her hips against yours. It was slow and steady, if it wasn’t for proximity, you wouldn’t have noticed. But you did.

“Are you w-warm enough, baby?” You tried to form a proper sentence but her little repeating action was putting your mind on the Fritz.

“I’m still a little cold” she purrs against your chest, “maybe you can warm me up”

She just keeps nuzzling you, breathing in your scent, rubbing her arms all over your chest, her legs sliding against yours. Her tail gently teasing your thighs.

“Natasha” you tried to say thru a mixture of giggles and a growing blush.

“Hmm? What is it, malysh?” She asked, batting her eyes playfully at you. Her eyes however held a certain amount of mischief.

“Y-You know what you’re doing to me”

She nuzzles you, her tail now swaying at you seductively. “Do I? Or are you reading between the lines?”

You rub her lower back reassuringly, placing little kisses to her lips, “Is this what you want?”

She kisses you right back, purring in your ear, “i want you. plain and simple, malysh”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” your wolf hybrid girl giggles before kissing you again.

“What about the movie?”

She runs her hands under your shirt, “I’ve seen the Spy Who Loved Me a hundred times already”

And with that you pick her up and carry her to your bedroom. She wraps her legs around your waist, holding onto you and giggling. Her reddish tail swishing side to side happily.

You lay her down gently on your bed, kissing her neck, caressing her so tenderly.

“I can’t believe it” you whisper against her ear.

“Me neither.” Natasha giggles, “our first time and we’re doing it in the middle of a snowstorm”

“There’s that,” you shrug, “but I just can’t believe how lucky I am to be love with my best friend”

Natasha gazes into your eyes with pure love and adoration, her voice comes out a little pleading but also a little giddy too, “just take me already you romantic goof!”

You help her out of her thermals as she tries to claw you out of yours. The two of you kiss and tumble over your bed, lost in the all consuming, all encompassing feelings of love.

Despite her earlier energy levels, your first time was gentle and loving. Natasha didn’t want to take her eyes off you while you just were in awe of the way her eyes showed every bit of love and joy. You wanted this time to be about her, while she wanted it to be about you.

Her claws gently scratched down your back as the euphoric bliss washed over her. Her breathing became a series of desperate little panting sounds, “(Y/N)! My love!…” after that her voice became a series of loving, joyful phrases whispered in the Russian language. You knew a few words so you knew she was experiencing an immense amount of pleasure and joy, she was practically a mess in your arms.

Her little moans, the way she giggles and gasps. All of it just made you fall more and more in love with her. Her pleads, her panting voice, it all made you want to strive to make her feel it more and more. She was your ecstasy, your love, your wolf girl.

“Natasha,” the way you said in her name made her bite her lip happily. She wanted to hear you say it more often.

The two of you collapsed against one another a happy mess, sharing a gentle, loving laugh with each other. Natasha’s reddish curls covered her face and a bit of yours. Your honey wolf wrapped her entire body around you like a contented sloth on a branch. Her tail swished happy and content under the covers of your bed.

“Hmm…by the gods I love you” she said with a little content sigh on her lips.

“I love you” you whispered back, just wanting nothing more to do than hold her in your arms for all eternity.

“Sounds like the storm is starting to clear up” Natasha commented.

“I’m still a little cold” you joked, earning a giggle from your wolf paramour.

“We got time”

You kiss her tenderly, “all the time in the world, my love”

Her tail wagged happily in response. How did you go this long without her in your arms before?

Yes the weather outside was frightful but laying there in the comfort of your bed with your loving redheaded wolf girl was so delightful.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @redhoodte @scarletquake-n7 @iiconicsfan25 @jacenradio7 @julieromanoff @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @ab1nsur @iamnicodemus @moonlit-imagines @moonlit-ficrecs @multi-fandom-enjoyer @ma1egamer @russianredassassin @revanshand @texaswolf23

[unconventional-lawnchair]

There's not much Barty Crouch Jr content out there. If you don't mind writing about him, can I make a request? After escaping Azkaban, he serves his Lord to the best of his ability, but there is someone from his past that he still can't get out of his mind. A Slytherin and from a family of followers of the Dark Lord. They had a relationship during their youth. After many years, he finds her again. He always had a soft spot for her. But the reader (like Snape, a sort of spy) is secretly thinking against the Dark Lord and stays away from these things as much as possible, but she is definitely in danger. Things are complicated, but the strong attraction and longing between them cannot be ignored...

The Boy I Knew

Barty Crouch Jr. x Black!Fem!Reader

Cw; Y/N, obsessions, one sided love(Barty pining), Barty being unhinged. Reader is morally grey, Remus Lupin onesided love (Rem pining), sexual themes and scenes, mentions of murder}} Please tell me if I missed anything!

AN- this fanfic is now well over what it should have been. I am posting a fraction of the proofread bits as of now, as I realize this is probably not at all what you wanted and if so I am SO sorry. If you want more I have a pouch that just needs to be beta read

Wc-5670

Taglist: @defnotfrey @au-ghosttype

{. 1972 - Barty’s Year 1 .}

Bartemius Crouch Junior couldn't have been older than eleven when he first met {Y/N} Walburga Black.  A cool upperclassman, if only by a year. 

Bartemius, at that ripe age, knew only a handful of things, and two of those was how badly he wanted to be seen and known. He wanted to be seen for who he was, and known for what he would do. That's likely what drew him to you. 

At only twelve, you and your brother had made a name for yourselves, in much different ways. Your brother was popular, for his quick tongue and clever quips, his innate ability to get under anyone's skin and stay there. Those traits could be forgiven, and they always were, for his big heart and intense sense of moral. 

You, however, were known for harboring a few very non Black traits, like your intense empathy and your crazed thirst for knowledge. Even as a Slytherin, your loyalty and curiosity rivaled the students around you tenfold. Your bravery knew no bounds, even with all the wrongs you had been done, you were forgiving and understanding. You were seen by everyone, you were known for everything.

As he got older, he wondered where that forgiveness went. You grew cold.

When he was innocent, when he had done no wrongs, you cradled him in your hands like he was a gift. You looked at him with eyes you shared with everyone, so much care and patience, so much understanding and kindness. So if those eyes were shared with the masses, he struggled, but was determined, to keep them focused on himself at any chance given.

It was obvious to anyone who saw the two interact. Barty wanted to be witnessed by you. The halls filled with the judgeful and teasing murmurs when he found you in the halls.

“There goes {Y/N}’s prodigy.”

“Barty is off to find his guru.”

“That boy will never learn.”

“How annoying.”

Barty had never been ashamed of his declarations for praise. He knew most of the voices were bitter with jealousy. He would be jealous too. You were both so young, and yet even some older students looked to you like you were twice your age, yet every Friday when the tests were returned, you sat in the courtyard and waited for him. Your personal underclassman.

You would meet in the yard and he would brandish his flawless marks, you would praise his abilities in absolute pride. He had never had someone prideful of him before. Everyone knew him to be a mother’s boy, but he would challenge any of those claims. He was a {Y/N}’s boy, he'd tell them, no shame as students snickered and made their fun of him. He was never afraid of how much he liked you. How much he admired and respected you.

He would turn from the RavenClaw table and look to you after his announcements everytime, you would be eating with Lily Evans and the other girls of her group, but your eyes would be on him. You would give him a soft smile that drove him mad. He would return it with his own, the smile he would save for you. Just you.

When he was only eleven and you were twelve, everything was perfect for him. You focused your attention on studies, your friends, and of course, Barty. That's how it stayed for years.

He would reminisce in his cell, running his dulled nail along the jagged stone walls, carving intents of every minute that passed. Remembering all of the things he regretted most in his life. Losing your trust was where his spiral began. He was a foolish kid.

{. 1974 Barty’s Year 3 .}

“It's getting embarrassing.”

Barty was eating lunch with one of the many friends he had made during his years at Hogwarts, Evan Rosier. He was once again bringing the conversation back to you, as he had been for the past few days.

“You trail after her like a loyal dog. Has she even given you a hint that she may return your feelings?” 

“What feelings?”

Evan and you did not get along. You never had. When he first found himself growing closer to him, you voiced your distaste for Evan the very next day. Barty always trusted your judgment, he obeyed you without much of a fight in most cases. This was not one of those cases.

He figured you to be biased, your brother thought him to be a Death Eater and you despised them. Something he could never understand, you were a pureblood, a Black, you were a powerful witch, and you would never have to worry about falling for a half blood or muggleborn, or Merlin forbid, a muggle. You were smarter than that. He always figured. You wouldn't taint your legacy.

Not like your useless brother, who he could see even now, describing his entanglements with witches and wizards of any kind, to the other Marauders.

As the years went on, you and Barty’s meetings became scarcer and scarcer, they went from Fridays to every second Friday, finally, you now only met every last Friday of the month. Still, Barty clung to you with a desperation he never would give anyone else.

Recently, you had gotten into a fight. One where you expressed your worry for what could possibly happen to him if he got involved with the wrong crowd. Barty, admittedly, didn't respond in kind. He was furious with you. You questioned his company but pushed away from him, you questioned his morals and his standing on the war. He told you there was no war to him, there was no fight.

At the end of the day, he would be standing by you.

The answer seemed to distress you further. It turned into a match of shouts and desperate pleas of compliance. It caused a scene, people watched as you defended your standing on your side of the war, this fight you were having with yourself he assumed. There was no war. This was a power struggle.

Evan’s scoff snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked up from his plate to his eyes. 

“Barty, half the school knows you've been in love with her since first year.” He hissed and Barty frowned. Would he call it love? He didn't think about it long before he had his answer. Love wasn't something he looked for, but he found it constantly. From the love he shared with Pandora, to the love he shared with Regulus, even the love he was nurturing with the brutish Evan.

No love in his body burned hotter then his love for you. 

He never thought about it because he never had to. Why would he? He knew you loved him too. He knew what you two shared was never anything that could be challenged. He was your prodigy. He was your prodigy. He didn't care for much, as long as he was yours. 

Evan snapped his fingers in his face and drew his attention back to him. He gave a slick smirk and wet his lips. “Come on, Barty, she's just a girl. You're wasting talent. Talent that could be used for someone who actually appreciates you.”

“She does appreciate me.” Barty challenged immediately, before Evan smirked and gestured to the Gryffindor table. “Does she?”

Barty turned just in time to see you, he never had to stare at a crowd too long to find you. 

You were sitting with your brother and his friends, side by side with Remus, sitting far too close for comfort. He was whispering something in your ear, making you giggle. Turning to look at him with the truest smile he's ever seen you make. Flashing your beautifully uneven teeth, your cheeks dimpling and eyes seeming to sparkle. Your eyes met Lupin’s and he took in your expression like he could die in that moment. 

Barty had never seen you smile like that before. He had never seen you look that way before. You had never looked at him like that before.

He hadn't even noticed as he began to bend the fork in his hand, fist tightening as he watched as Remus lean in and stole a kiss against your cheek. You gave a bigger laugh at this. Moving in to kiss his lips carefully. 

The wonderful moment you were having was interrupted when a loud snap sounded threw the cafeteria. Your eyes snapped over to the RavenClaw table, as did a lot of your peers. Barty had snapped a fork in half with his thumb alone. Before a professor could scold him, he got up from his seat and stomped out of the grand hall, and your eyes followed them.

You muttered a quick apology to Remus and he nodded in understanding as you scrambled to your feet to follow after him. 

He wished he could take every word he called you in that hall back now. He wished he had been smart enough to know that loving you with you in his life would of been far less torture then loving a girl who hated your guts. 

“You blood trader!”

“This! This is what I meant, Bartemius! My Barty would never-”

“You don't have a clue about me, you insolent heartbreaker! What of us, Black?”

“Us? What Us, Barty?”

That night he realized that no matter how genuine his love was for you, how deeply it ran, those times spent alone meant far more to him then it ever meant to you. You did stuff like that for everyone. 

He wasn't entitled to your love. Running his nail down until it was blunted against the wall. Azkaban could no longer do more harm then it already had.

{. 1974 Barty’s Year 4 .}

An entire school year. You and Barty didn't speak for an entire school year.

He kept his tabs on you, of course, because no matter what you said to him that day, you were still his person. Knowing how ignorant and how dangerously minded you could be, he took it upon himself to look over you. You may have been older, you may have sworn him, at one time, your loyalty and protection. But now, he had power of his own. He would repay you. He would repay and reeducate you, given the chance. With all the training him, Evan, Muliciber, Avery, even Snape had done? By Merlin’s beard he could do anything.

He had the mind to back that up, but he kept his power under wraps. You were always frightened by what you didn't understand, the last thing he wanted was for you to fear him. He wanted everyone to know him as fear, not you.

Never you.

When the school year started Barty noticed the shift instantly. He knew you like the back of his hand, far more than he let on most days, but it didn't take a genius to see that {Y/N} Black sitting with Regulus Black at the Slytherin table was odd. 

He soon learned of what happened between Sirius and his family, a right disgrace. Then to learn Sirius scorned you from his life for choosing to stay with Regulus, that was probably what started Barty’s absolute disdain for your brother. You had gone through training per Regulus. Saying before Sirius left he let it slip about you and Remus, trying to entice you to leave with him. You refused and your mother lost it. Walburga was a stain on this earth for what she had done. Even then…

It was all for the better, as he saw it. You don't need the impressions of Sirius Black, Lily Evans, Mary Macdonald, Remus Lupin, or any others that pour their venom into a perfect witch as yourself. He would make sure it stayed that way, even if it hurt you. However, he couldn't lie.

You always looked your best when you knew your worth. 

It wasn't just your routine that changed, you became cold to your old friends, dropping the Muggle borns and staying weary of the half bloods. You started to associate mainly with more influential Purebloods.

That meant him. 

He knew his father was good for something.

“Crouch? Would you like to accompany me to the library?” Your voice sang out to him, despite your listless monotone and drifting eyes. It was the first sentence you muttered to him in 13 months. Your voice was more reserved, your back straightened and your lips pouted. You didn't look like that 12 year old he knew, you were 16 now. Even in his depravity, he took notice of every lovely advancement you had taken in care of your appearance. Your mother instructed you with glamours and proper wear, even now wearing a black feathered choker and brandished a black quill. A family heirloom, Regulus would tell him.

Now, he hated your mother, there was no question about that. What she had done to Regulus was unforgivable, what she had done to you was cause for retaliation in his eyes. But Merlin, did she put you back on the path of greatness.

“Crouch? {Y/N}, my love, it will always be Barty to you.” He lit up like a child, voice sugary sweet. It was your turn to take notice of his change. He was still the same boy you met in first year. Endlessly obsessive, devoted, and excelling at all the things you liked about him. Unfortunately, also the things you hated. 

But, he was still your Barty in your heart. The boy you loved, the boy you cherished, the boy who charmed your soul in ways you didn't know possible. If you had to pick anyone to fill the hollowed out ache in your chest, you chose dangerously, Barty Crouch Jr would be your reprieve.

He was just older now. He was becoming a man.

Everyone knows what they say, about a boy and a girl, coming into their own together. Barty figured this was your love story, you weren't one to argue any longer.

He didn't care that you only seemed to speak to him out of necessity. When he heard from Regulus that your mother was making you pick your friends based on their social standing, any males to soon be a suitor, he was ecstatic.

He was remarkable. He was seen. He was valuable enough to you to not be a mere pawn but maybe even a queen on your chest set. To be used by you? It was worth every moment of the ache. All of this because his father just so happened to keep his filthy hands to the purest bloodlines.

That was his value to you. His blood, his sweat, his labor, and his mind. They were yours, no questions asked. He clung to your heel with new found determination. He would keep you on the right track, the promised one. The one that would ensure your children had the same opportunities. 

He knew he wanted this the moment he walked in on you and Severus arguing in the courtyard.

“You dare call her a Mudblood, you incessant pompous Half Breed?!” Your voice echoed through the halls. People watched in horror, some in absolute shock, the sweet kind girl they had grown attached to was a right monster now. Barty, however, was loving it. You were a proper pureblood.

“{Y/N}-” Severus spoke carefully, something about his tone was far too familiar for Barty’s liking, him addressing you by first name made his jaw tighten. He didn't have to say a word. You rectified it.

“Do not address me as anything other than Black, you dirty mutt!” You screeched. Severus looked stunned, the usually stoic boy looked broken. Barty watched as your eyes trailed over a shocked and watery eyed Lily Evans, he almost didn't catch you muttering, “You lost that privilege.”

He, of course, came to your rescue, as he always promised. Hand around your back and escorted you away from the fight. As you both walked down the corridor your path was blocked. 

Barty almost laughed, Remus Lupin. He was standing with Sirius Black, both staring threatening daggers at Barty. When you both kept walking, Barty shoved a path between the two boys, you hand a fistful of his cloak so as to not be left behind.

He didn't like how Remus’s eyes softened at the sight of you. He didn't like how Sirius reached for you. He walked faster, putting your sniffling form in front of himself.

After that, he knew he had you. 

You were becoming who you were meant to be.

~~~

He took his mark that summer, standing alongside your brother Regulus Black, Lucius Malfoy, Beatrix Black and Evan Rosier. They were at your cousin’s manor, in the ballroom standing side by side. He was as straight as a board, brimming with pride, smirking to himself and brandishing his left arm.

He could feel your eyes on him, from where you stood, next to Narcissa, your aunt and your mother. Waiting for him. 

Evan was first, standing beside Barty and holding out his wrist. When the wand hovered over his wrist and the Death Eater began to mutter the incantation, Evan let out a blood curdling sound. Pure brutish pain shot through him, leading him to fall back. Quickly held up by two other death eaters behind him.

When the wand brushed Barty’s wrist next, he hardly flinched. Tilting his head back as sweat gathered around his temple and neck. He bit his lip and let himself feel every sharp intrusion the spell took, letting himself succumb to the blissful pain.

When he returned to you, not standing to wait for dismissal like the rest of them, he wrapped his arm around your waist and yanked you in. He stole your lips for his own, making you give a slight gasp. You don't fight it, so he pushed further, letting himself taste your bottom lip and pulling it punishingly between his teeth. Through his high he was able to recognize and memorize the feel of your lips and the taste, in his mind, it was the closest to the gods he'd ever get. What was true heaven, however, was when you took his cheeks in your hands and kissed him back.

“Enough.” He heard your mother hiss from beside you. She shooed Barty away like he was some stray dog. He backed down from where you stood, licking his lips and admiring just how shaken and red you looked. Your mother, the hag, pushed you behind herself and hid you away from his eyes.

When you looked away and covered your mouth, he almost didn't notice how you also licked your lips clean. That drove him mad.

He had come to the conclusion early on, you were a temptress. A vixen. A damned Siren as far as he knew. 

Memories of that night, your first kiss, the moment he could see you falling for him. A proper man, worthy of the worship he planned to give you. Worthy of serving a goddess like you. It kept him up most nights, it was a high even the dementor's couldn't take away, but they did manage to warp his obsession from what he believed to have been holy, to the truth.

He was brought on this earth for you. Without you, he was nothing. He was rotting.

{. 1976 Barty’s Year 6 .}

The next year he took your hand and promised you the world. To his delight, you responded in kind. You began dating his sixth year and it was absolute bliss. 

It didn't last long, that bliss. It became a thrill.

Despite his power and loyalty to the dark lord, your mother favored another's for your hand. Particularly, Avery. His father came to your mother with the proposal, your mother liked his offer of the estate and your own power over the house.

You, however, much to Barty’s delight, were way too far gone. In your now secret meetings, where you would take you strolls along the city street, to the shop or to the boutique. You made a show of it; but you only truly left for Crouch Manor.

Where Mr. and Mrs. Crouch turned their other cheek as you snuck your way to Barty’s chambers. Behind those locked doors your love was dangerous. His whispers and promises of treachery against your family name were met with nothing less than desperate devotion and promises in kind. As your palms glided over his bare chest and his large hands found their way under your skirt.

His favorite memories were all locked away in that room. The room he made you his own, where his hands grew familiar with your skin in ways no one else ever could, where he found an affinity for you breathless, and where he heard you let out sounds no self respecting Black heiress should ever let out. 

He claimed what was his birthright, between your legs. Bruised your lips numb and left marks you had to charm away when you made it back home. Just in time for supper.

With the feeling of him still fresh on your body. The pureblood heir your parents thought so lowly of. The heir they didn't see fit to sit at that very table, was still there. His lips were on the rim of the cup you sipped from, his hands were on the arm rests you relaxed against, and his teeth and claws were buried into their perfect daughter.

{. 1978 .}

By the time you both graduated, you took your place at the table. Having fought to hold off your engagement to Avery, Barty took it into his own hands to get between the two of you. Every time you glance in the boy's direction, he shrivels in on himself.

“Barty?” You whispered between his greedy kisses, in the halls of the Malfoy manor.  The only times his hands could find your hips and his lips could find yours outside of his own room now. He was starting to see less and less of you. The war was in full swing and with his desperation for you was all that was driving him most days. 

Thinking now, he wondered what drove you. Even now, having spent a year in Azkaban, you were still the light he flew to, no matter how much it hurt him. He could have sworn, at one time, it was him.

“Darling.” He whispered low against your lips. You tangled your fingers into his hair, before pulling him down. He rested his chin against the curve of your chest and looked up into your eyes.

You bit your lip, running your thumb along his own reddening ones. “Do you love me, Barty?” You cooed.

“I do.” He affirmed, licking the skin you touched along his Cupid's bow, “I do, more than anything.” His voice was raw and rough, he pulled at your hold, trying desperately to kiss you again.

“Do something for me, Barty.” 

“Anything, Darling. Anything.” He muttered, eyes still on your lips.

“Be within my reach. Always.” You whispered before releasing him. He took your lips once more, pushing you back against the wall like the very prospect of not touching you in some way was physically painful. His hand traveled up from your hand to rub over the mark you took just days earlier.

Every moment like that seemed fleeting. 

The very next year, Regulus Black passed. He had gone MIA and your mother, despite her loyalty to Voldemort, commanded you home. It got worse when they officially announced his death.

You stayed locked in those walls, by order of your mother. He missed you dearly. Barty never wanted to be your hero, some great commander, he couldn't care less now about who else even knew his name anymore. He was older now, and he just wanted to be yours. 

So, it pushed Barty to work even harder. Anything to appease The Dark Lord, get this war over with, so he could return to the only true person worthy of his reverence. 

Without you, his life went by in simple clips of reality. When Voldemort fell, he was imprisoned in this hellhole, and even now, he found himself unable to let anything else consume his mind.

The dripping of water from the rusting metal doors drove him mad. No other sounds but the miserable screams of inmates and slamming of bodies against pavement. It was a torturous and hopeless place, some people preferred punishment by their own hands. There was suddenly a loud clanging of keys that cut his thoughts.

He looked up from the corner of his cell, putting his thumb in his mouth and sucking on the bleeding torn skin. The marks he had made on the cell walls marked his 354th day in this nightmare. His eyes locked with his father and his mother, furrowing his brow as he stood.

His mother two out two veils of a slug colored potion, his father had another potion in his hand.

Barty didn't stay in that cell to see his 355th.

~~~

{. 1994 POV Shift .}

“It's a bit cold, don't you think?”

Remus Lupin's voice cut through the fog of your mind like a knife through butter. He was right, of course. Even as the year grew warmer with the summer months growing closer, the astronomy tower always gave a pleasant and persistent chill. 

You were used to it, by now. Being the Astronomy Professor for almost twelve years. About the same amount of years you managed to avoid coming into contact with Remus himself. 

You had to give him credit, Remus Lupin, he was persistent. Doing everything in his power to get you alone. As if one conversation would melt away years of what you had done, the people you deceived, the lives you took, the lies you told… all in the name of a crazed boy long lost to the history of the wizarding world. For the family who was as faded as the family tree you used to tend to with your brothers, painting names and burning faces. 

As if speaking to you would somehow bridge a gap. A gap in his heart that still ached for you. It was never something he was able to understand, your persistent and endless love for Crouch had come out of nowhere for him. He couldn't look Sirius in the eye for a long time, learning he had outed your budding relationship. 

He took every chance he could, to reach out, to speak to you, it was met with closed doors and a reminder of remaining professional. 

“It is. Heading out, Lupin?” You muttered to him. You couldn't lie and say having him here didn't make you feel, in some ways, nostalgic. To the loving, caring, respectful girl you once knew. One with so much patience and kindness you shared it with all kinds of souls. Souls you've watched drop like flies under the man you swore your life to.

“I am.” Remus muttered but didn't turn to leave. You shifted on your heel to look back at him from the entrance of the tower. He had his hand resting on the railing, his palm thudding against the railing as he tried to gather the courage to continue.

“I heard you gave Snape quite the earful.” He hummed, walking deeper into your classroom. You thinned your lips and shook your head, turning away from him. He gave a weak scoff. 

“Could you at least look at me?” He pushed, his voice wavering. You closed your eyes and gave a deep sigh. Your hands moved to grab the railing.

“What is it, Lupin?” 

“It's not too late.” He whispered and you closed your eyes. His words were exact, aimed to cut deep and retrieve from you the heart he knew was there; it just had grown cold. “You could come back. With me, tonight, we can meet with Padfoot and-”

“And what, Lupin?” You spoke calmly as you turned to face him. He went rigid at your stare. “Live this wonderful life you have weaved out for us? Pretend that everything is okay and the last few years never happened?” You pushed and he closed his eyes. 

Anger bubbled in his throat with something familiar, jealousy and bitter melancholy. If he could hear you any clearer you would be cotton in his ears. Your words were empty because he knew you could. Put Hogwarts behind you and come back to him, come with him and Sirius like you should have done back when you wore uniform and not cloaks like proper professors. Nothing was proper about you two aching hearts anyway. 

Yet history repeated itself.

It always would.

“You know he's gone.” Remus started slowly and your breath caught in your throat. You felt your eyes grow glossy with grief and you placed your left hand over your heart. 

“I never thought I would be someone's second choice. To Bartemius Crouch Jr.” He continued. “I see I never measured up, did I?” 

“... I am sorry, Remus.” You whispered, your voice, for the first time in years, was vulnerable. It was careful.

Because of course you loved Remus. You loved him dearly, but no man would own you like Barty had. You were terrified to let yourself be loved with anything less than what he had shown you. Steadfast and faithful love. No one could challenge the status of Barty in your life.

Even in death his ghost reminds you of your place. Next to him. 

Once this was over, once Dumbledore had seen and used his worth in you, when you were no longer under his wing like a servant, you would go back to 12 Grimmauld Place. You would retire. And you would wait for Barty to take you back home. Let it be a year, let it be ten, you would return to him as promised.

“... What have you become?” He whispered to you, and your eyes finally raised to meet him. You caught your tears and quickly cleaned your face. Shaking your head you put back on your practiced and perfect pout.

“.. A Black.”

Your exchange ended there. 

Remus returned to your brother, you presumed. You forged ignorance when you were questioned by the Ministry of your brother’s whereabouts. It didn't take much for them to let you be, especially with Mr. Crouch Senior’s particular protectiveness of you. Probably a gift from Mrs. Crouch, oh, how you missed her.

When Barty was taken and your mother was far too weak to control you, you visited the Crouchs’ daily. You helped Winky with taking care of his parents, particularly his sick and fragile mother. You grew a weak repore with his father, though you despised him. 

As a proper pureblood you just silently reaped the benefits of what the world had gifted you.

Including your wealth. With the house of Black fallen you were left to be the soul heir. Though, the moment you heard of Sirius Black’s escape, you reopened your joint account. Soon, you heard someone was able to access it. It was true; your brother was alive and well.

That was the only olive branch you extended to him. 

Once the school year was officially over you returned home. To your modest house down in an old town just a broom ride away from Hogwarts. Feldcroft.

You returned home, it was uneventful. Until you opened your door. 

You were greeted by Winky, the Crouch’s house elf. That wouldn't be unusual, Barty had preached to her about how you were both intended. How she should attend to you, how she attended to him. So she would appear at your house from time to time, with gifts and food she had prepared for Crouch Senior that she made just too much of.

“Winky?” You called out to the figure in your hall. The sheepish girl turned to face you with a careful smile.

“Madam Black has returned! How happy Winky is to see you, mistress.” She declared and hurried up to you. Her path was cut short as Creature stepped in front of her, snapping away your bags. He seemed in a foul mood. Fowler then usual.

“Your mother would not approve of your company, Ms. Blaaaack.” He warned and you furrowed your brow. “Nor would she approve of this home-”

“Kreature.” You demanded and he huffed. Winky was always coming in and out, Creature never voiced displeasure with her company and your mother, well, she could care less. “What company?”

“The noisy Crouch, Ma'am.”

Your heart dropped. He apparated away, assumingly to unpack your bags. Your eyes widened as Winky appeared in front of your full view. Showing off the black quill you had most definitely left at home. Your mothers old quill. You took it carefully from the house elf.

“Winky..” You spoke carefully and slowly. Holding up the quill between your fingers. “Who gave this to you?”

“I think you know, Darling.” 

Before Winky could answer, a voice lost to time spoke first. You knew it before you even turned around. 

Still, you jerked your entire body to face him. Your eyes locked, full of longing and hope.

 And there he was. Your Barty.

He was holding a newspaper, licking his bottom lip but his eyes were on you. His eyes were just how you always remembered them. So full of danger and appreciation for your simple presence. He stepped towards you and you took a step back. He tsked at that, reaching out to grab your waist. “Darling..” He whispered.

You were still in shock. Staring up at his brown eyes and waiting. For anything. “Barty?” You whispered.

When he kissed you, alarm bells went off in your head. You didn't listen to any of them, grabbing him just as greedily as he held you. Both of your eyes closed and you held each other like you might perspire. 

He was home.

He truly was.

[familyvideostevie]

to close up all the rest

joel miller x reader | 3.2k

a patrol rattles you. joel keeps you grounded.

cw: typical tlou violence, intense emotions about being alive/death, love, something to live for. post-part i jackson au

a/n: just a little jackson au one-shot. this is a christmas present for darling @macfrog. thank you for existing, i love you. hope this is alright.

--

It's been a long time since someone died in front of you.

You don't even know her. Honestly, you should be glad the runner grabbed her, considering she just finished shooting at you. Your patrol partner, a kid called Joey who usually works the stables, shouts your name as you watch it sink its teeth into her neck over and over again.

She doesn't even scream.

"More are coming," he cries. "We have to go."

He's right. The woman's gunshot echoed in the valley and it's not yet cold enough for the herds to be slow, so you have a few minutes at most to get out of here. Probably less.

Groans on the wind. Definitely less.

You shake yourself out of the twisted thrall you've fallen into and look away. Heart in your throat, blood pounding in your ears, you quickly tie your bags to your horse and scan the street.

"Do you have your pack?" you ask Joey.

If she was screaming you'd shoot her. Put an end to it. But it might be a waste of a shot and then the runner would be on you in ten big steps. Fuck.

"Got it!"

You both mount skittish rides and take off down the cracked pavement. The patrol had an added ask of raiding some neighborhoods for linens that can be turned into bandages. You each have a big bag of old clothes, curtains, blankets, and the like strapped to the back of your saddles. The woman had appeared out of the tree line just as you finished the last house, demanding your stuff. There was protocol for this -- Joey would distract her while you went for the gun strapped to the back of your jeans.

But she was skittish, this woman. She fired at the pavement in front of you as soon as your hand twitched.

And then, well.

After a few miles of steady galloping you signal for Joey to slow. The forest is quiet as you turn onto the path down the hill that will lead you back to Jackson.

"I can't believe she shot at us," the kid says. "Stupid."

You sigh. "She was desperate," you say, remembering how wild her eyes looked. "And alone. If she had people with her she wouldn't have."

"You think?"

It's been some time but you did your days alone in this world. It's bloody, it's terrifying, it's punishing. You stop trusting anyone and eventually you stop trusting yourself. Wondering why you keep trying. Without community you lose sight of what matters. You lose sight of how you can not just survive this hell on earth, but live in it.

If she had wanted to do that, instead, maybe you could have told her it was possible.

"Yeah," you say. The walls of Jackson come into view and you think about what awaits you. A warm house, an even warmer embrace. Safety, security, home. "Having people makes all the difference."

Joey waves the green flag and the gates open for you. After returning your horse and checking to make sure the kid isn't too traumatized -- frankly, he seems totally unbothered -- you walk back to the house. The sun is starting to set, painting everything golden, but you can see the clouds rolling in. Might be that snow that everyone keeps anticipating. Most mornings you hear chatter about it. Small talk about the weather persists after the end of the world.

A few folks wave hello, ask after Ellie's new dog, say they hope you've got your firewood ready. Jackson is a thing out of dreams. Solid walls, even steadier people. Good rules, smart leaders. You feel lucky every day that they let you stay here. That you've made a home here.

That home is in sight when you turn on Rancher and what you spy on the porch makes you pick up your pace.

Joel.

He's rocking in the one chair out front, guitar slung across his lap like an afterthought as he strums with his eyes closed. It'll be too cold to sit out, soon, so he spends most evenings playing while he can still stand it.

A heaviness you didn't realize you were carrying lessens a little at the sight of him.

"Hey, stranger," you call as you walk up the steps.

His gaze falls on you, the hazel in his irises more evident in the fading light of the late afternoon. God, he looks beautiful. Like everything you've ever wanted.

"Howdy," he says. The guitar goes up against the house and he stands, meeting you at the top step. "How was patrol?"

You falter, smile frozen on your face. You should tell him, but you don't know what you'd say. A stranger died in front of you and it's put your stomach in knots? It's not that he'll laugh at you, or anything like that. You just need to chew on it a little longer. And right now you're steps away from the warm inside of your home and inches away from the man you love, so you decide to push it aside.

"The usual," you muse. Joel furrows his brow just a little and searches your gaze, but whatever he finds in your eyes causes him to let it go.

"Okay," he says, softly. He taps your chin with his knuckle and turns toward the front door, snagging his guitar on the way. "You hungry? Ellie brought by some soup."

"Did she make it?"

Your layers go on the hooks by the door, your boots next to his in the hall. He heads for the kitchen.

"Hell no," Joel says, deep voice echoing through your house. "Dina did."

"So it's edible?"

You pad on socked feet over creaking hardwood and find him over a pot on the stove, bowl in hand.

"Tried a bit and it didn't kill me," he says. "Waited for you to get home to eat, though."

"And Tommy says you were raised in a barn," you tease, kissing his cheek before he ladles the soup for you.

Joel grunts and you laugh. "Hot bowl," he says. "Careful."

For some reason, his gentle caution makes your chest hurt. You think about the woman from today, how she had no one telling her to be careful. How she made a mistake, or maybe a reckless choice. How she didn't even scream.

There are many very difficult days in this life and you dealt with them on your own for a long time. It's taken practice and mounds of patience from Joel and the other people in this town who love you, but you've learned that you can let other people help you through those days. But that doesn't mean it isn't hard.

You sit at the table across from Joel and try not to let your mood take over.

"You alright?" Joel asks, frown firmly in place. "Maybe Ellie did make the soup--"

"It's good, Joel," you say, smiling a little. If he asks you how you are one more time, you'll crack. And you're not ready yet. "Will you tell me about your day?"

He sighs, no doubt seeing through your second deflection, but allows it.

"Let's see," he starts, leaning back in his chair. "Tommy had me handlin' that bullshit with the kids who went huntin'."

Last week, three teenagers snuck out with the grand idea that they'd bag an elk or something just as big and bring it back for fame and glory or whatever kids think is worth life and death these days. It hadn't gone as badly as it could have, but it was pretty bad. They'd stolen a rifle from the patrol cache and only made it a few miles before one of them slipped down a bank and broke his ankle. Joel had been the one to lead the search party when someone realized they were missing.

He's got a soft spot for teenagers.

"It's good for them to learn," you remind him. He sucks on his teeth and rubs at his jaw. You slurp on some more soup and a thought at odds with your sour mood dances through your memory -- how good his beard felt on your skin last night. Jesus. He does something to you, this man.

"Should know better," he says, oblivious to the echo of your desire. "Havin' them clean all the guns is one thing but once that kid heals up I'm tellin' Tommy we oughta start a trainin' class or somethin'. Let them get outside the walls and hunt if they want. With supervision."

"Keep talking like that and Maria will make you join the council," you muse.

He snorts. "Yeah, I'm sure as shit not doin' that."

"You'd be good at it, Joel. People listen to you."

"I have a hard enough time gettin' my own kid to listen to me," he reminds you. "Hell, you, too."

It's less of a jab and more of an attempt to get you to cheer up, and it works. You laugh at him, delighted to vex him so. As if he does anything but melt for Ellie. And for you -- both of you know just how wrapped around you he is. He'll do anything for his family. You've seen proof of it.

"If only the council had a uniform," you sigh, exaggerating your disappointment. "You'd look so handsome in one."

"Watch it," he says, eyes sparkling.

You tap his foot under the table with yours. "Just being truthful," you tease, though it rings a little hollow given the fact that you're swerving talking about your own day.

Joel hums and leans back in his chair. "You gonna tell me what happened today?"

"What do you mean?"

Even as you chew on how to swerve him once again, you find yourself going back to the patrol. The way your senses sharpened when she stepped out of the trees, how you saw all the ways it could go wrong. Her twitchy hand, her wide eyes. The crack in her voice when she demanded your packs. The echo of the gunshot and your own heartbeat loud in your ears wondering if today was the day you wouldn't make it home. When the runner leapt out of nowhere and latched onto her. How easily your life could have ended that way, too.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you," Joel says, not unkindly. "Where are you?"

You chew on your lower lip. This would be a lot easier if the words would just come to you, if you knew how to explain yourself.

"Joel--"

"Alright, that's it," he says. Joel gets up with a groan, stretching his arms high in the air, and heads for the front door.

"What?" you ask, confused, but you follow him into the hall. "Joel, where are you going?"

"We're goin' for a walk." He shrugs on his jacket and waves you over. "C'mon."

"But the dishes--"

"Will be here when we get back," he finishes. "Now, get your coat on. Hat, too. Reckon the snow is gonna start tonight."

You could fight him about it, say you're cold and tired and just want to sit on the couch. Tell him to stop badgering you, to let sleeping dogs lie.

But that's the thing about Joel -- you trust him. Outside the walls, inside your home. With your life and with your heart. You're safe in his hands. And you've been here before plenty of times. After nightmares from both of you, after hard days in town, after his fights with Ellie or Tommy or whatever it is. You walk and you talk it out. Fresh air helps, Joel often says. It's the father in him, the caretaker, the man who knows when to listen and when to push. He's taught you a lot about that.

So you shove your feet back into your boots and Joel tugs a knit hat over your ears. The sun finished setting while you were eating, Jackson now illuminated by the gas lamps and string lights hanging between the posts.

Normally you'd be content to just walk with Joel side by side, as is your usual routine. He's not a particularly public man when it comes to affection, though you never doubt that he's thinking of you. His eyes find yours in every room and he easily finds you in every crowd. By now, you've got your own language.

But, given that he's brought you out here to no doubt get you to be honest about your complicated feelings, he offers you his arm for support. You take it with a dry look that he matches.

Never one to let you off easily, this man. Not when he knows he can help, at least.

"You know what I'm gonna say," he grumbles.

It helps to talk.

It's basically a mantra in your house. Ellie says he didn't used to be like this. The total opposite, in fact. You know that it's her that brought him back to this version of himself -- he did it because she asked. And maybe you coming along helped, too. He might seem gruff and guarded to those who don't know him but it's all so he can protect who and what he loves.

And this is one of his ways -- not letting things go unsaid.

"I don't know where to start," you say. "I don't know how to explain it."

Joel rubs a hand over his jaw. "Try the beginning," he suggests. "It was patrol, right? Somethin' happened?"

You nod.

"We saw a woman," you start. You close your eyes and picture her, letting Joel lead you down the street. "She came out of the woods just as we finished the last house."

"Hostile?"

You look at Joel. His jaw is tense, as if you're not standing in front of him safe and sound. Always trying to fix hurts he had nothing to do with.

"She had a gun, yeah," you continue. "Demanded our stuff. We were ready to do the protocol but then she shot at us."

Joel stops in his tracks, pulling you with him. "She did what?"

"And missed, obviously," you remind him. "But it was a stupid mistake, since we weren't far from that town with the herd. She had to have seen traces of them and known they were there."

"Christ," he mutters. You tug on his arm and he starts walking again.

"And before we could do anything a runner tackled her to the ground."

Joel curses under his breath. "Unlucky."

It starts to snow. You look up at the white flakes falling from the dark sky as you figure out how to say what happened next.

"Go on," Joel says, softly. "This is the part that bothered you, I reckon."

"She didn't even scream, Joel," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear. "She just went down."

"Ah."

All of it comes to a boil and the words pour out of you.

"I mean, why did she shoot in the first place? She was jumpy, sure, but she was alone, too. She looked so tired, so desperate, and the way it lunged for her I know it didn't kill her on the first bite. No screaming, she just took it. She took it and gave up. I don't -- she must have had nothing, to give up like that. It's just so fucked up --"

Your voice breaks. Joel pulls you to a stop and unwinds your arms so he can put his hands on your shoulders.

"Ain't nothin' you can do about someone else's lot," he says. "She made her mistakes."

"I know," you retort, "but that could have been me."

"It ain't you."

"But it could have been, Joel!" You're not angry with him, but you're frustrated. "If things had worked out differently for me, it could have been. If I never found Jackson, if I was still out there. It could have been me."

He exhales sharply, reigning in his own desire to remind you that you're safe. That you're here, that you're with him. That he won't let anything bad happen to you.

"Lots of things could be different," he says, slowly. "Could spend days thinkin' 'bout that stuff. Years."

"I guess I'm just sad for her." The snow has gathered in Joel's hair and you reach for him to brush it away. He allows it, keeping his eyes on yours. "I think she wanted to die."

"It's a hard life on the road."

You sigh. "I know, Joel," you say. "I just -- it's been a long time since things have been that bad for me. And it was hard to be reminded, you know?"

His hands move from your shoulders to cup your face, thumbs your skin. "I know, sweetheart," he replies. "We've all been there. Hard not to think about givin' up at least once in this shit hole."

It gets a dry laugh out of you.

"But you ain't givin' up. You fight tooth and nail every single time 'cause you've got so much to get back to. And it'll get you home."

You lean into one of his palms, your lips brushing along the heel of his hand. "I know, Joel."

He's not done. "For a long time I was like that. Not carin' much how things went, so long as I got to get my hands dirty. But Ellie --" he swallows, the love he has for his girl getting in the way of his words " -- and you tie me to this damn place. Make me get up every day, make me remember how things can be good. And someday it'll be my turn --"

"Joel--"

"No, listen. Someday it'll be my turn, and I'll go knowin' I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to get what I got. Time."

You can't take it anymore. You pitch forward into his chest, arms wrapping around his waist. Now that he's said it, you realize why the whole thing bothered you so much. You don't want to die. You don't want to lose the life you have now. The home you have with this man, the way he loves you. The way you love him. It makes you feel human, it makes you feel alive.

And you feel damn bad for anyone who doesn't have something to live for.

Joel's hand presses into your spine. Maybe in a different life you'd be worried that he'd think you're silly for being so bothered about this, but he always takes you seriously. You both know how quickly you can lose something, how much it matters to make the time you have count.

"Thank you," you say into his jacket. He scoffs.

"C'mon, now." He gently pulls away from your embrace to look at you. He brushes snow from your shoulders and hat with careful fingers. "Let's go home."

Home. For so long you never thought you'd have one.

Joel must see the vulnerability in your eyes because he leans in to press his lips to yours gently. An anchoring touch, a reminder of how he feels.

"Getting frisky, Mr. Miller," you mutter when he pulls away. He snickers and you sneak another kiss as he pinches your hip through your coat.

"Home," he says again.

You couldn't agree more.

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Chapter 97: An Old Love Story

Okay, say it with me: FOIL!

You can see it too, right? Looks like Martha x Henry (Henderson)'s story is a foil of Twilight and Yor's story.

Henderson was in Twilight's place; the smart, lonely young man so focused on his ideals that he was blind about who was in front of him and his very own feelings.

Martha was in Yor's place, the strong and graceful girl too young and inexperienced to know her own heart and that she was in love.

This is exactly what's happening with Twiyor, the main couple of the story, and I think we may get to see one of the possible endings for our beloved Twiyor through Martha and Henderson story.

Now, what do we know about these two 🤔...

We know that Henry Henderson has a daughter and a son-in-law. It was mentioned he writes to them, but there was no mention of his wife. This leads me to believe that:

His wife is no longer alive.

He lives with his wife, so there's no reason for him to write to her.

He is divorced.

So, with this information we still can't know what's the current relationship between Martha and Henry, but we can take a guess 😉

From the way the story is being told, it almost feels like it's a semi-tragic love story, doesn't it? We can almost assume that they didn't end up together...or did they?

Theory one: Yup, everyone is right and Martha and Henderson eventually went their separate ways for reasons we'll probably get to know in the next couple of chapters.

If this theory is right, I think it's beautiful that they are getting a second chance 💖They certainly look more mature, confident, and calm (also elegant!). I love the way they look at each other, so much trust and love 😌

Theory two: I know this one is a long shot (and Henderson just said in that panel that "She is merely and old friend") but maybe...they're actually married. Why am I so bold to even consider that possibility?! Well, there's this panel:

The matron is clearly teasing Master Henderson, don't you agree? If she does it, it's because she knows something. Either she knows that there was something between those two in their youth or she knows they are married. I don't know, but they way she said the word "partner" and the fact that Master Henderson is married made me think that Martha is his wife. I know, I know...it's a remote possibility, but you have to remember that marriage is mentioned a lot through different characters and couples during the story, so maybe those two were actually married. (But, it's quite possible it's theory one).

Other things to consider...

How long have Ostania and Westalis been at war?

My guess is that we're talking about two different wars between the same countries; very much like WWI and WWII, where there was a brief period of peace before a second conflict. So, probably the first war started while Henderson was in his 20s and the second war started when he was in his 40s (and Twilight was a kid).

It makes a lot of sense that now they're in a period of "Cold War", just like in real life.

The Garden

I am convinced that the Garden is involved in this. I've talked about this before (read it here). After this chapter, I still think the Garden is going to pop up. Want some evidence?

Do you recognize this guy?

That's right 😏 That's Matthew McMahon. What is he doing there? Too much of a coincidence, don't you think?

And also the way this is phrased:

Odd that there was a mention of the word Garden, isn't it? And the fact that the whole story between those two takes place in a garden...🤔

In addition to that, in a previous chapter, Twilight observes how Martha moves like a soldier. Franky mentioned earlier that Garden people are like soldiers. And the Garden has a history of recruiting young skilled/strong people, like Yor. Things keep adding up.

The Consequences of War

This is a prevalent theme throughout the whole SxF universe: how war (violence, intolerance, manipulation of information, propaganda, politics) has affected the life of all the characters.

No matter their background, nationality or education, we've seen it again and again with most of the characters big or small, like Twilight, Franky, Sylvia, Millie, and now we're about to see it with characters from an older generation like Martha and Henderson.

My guess is that this won't be the last time and this pattern will continue while the story lasts. I think what the story is trying to show us is how war is seen by some (politicians and men in power like Desmond) as a natural, inevitable course of action, but at the same time how brutal the consequences are in the smallest stories. That's one of the things that is truly remarkable about SxF.