#and suddenly the only options left for an ending are the worst ones

[creature-once-removed]

.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> smut, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> Song Mingi x reader warning(s) -> smut, mdni. 18+ words -> 2.2k

abstract -> insecurties sometimes need to be faced

y/n’s perspective

Waking up in the middle of the night to Hongjoong’s screaming wasn’t what I expected to ever happen… Seonghwa and Yeosang? Maybe… but Hongjoong and Mingi? Not at all.

“Yah! Seriously you’ve woken everyone up” I heard Seonghwa say in a groggy voice. “You’ll wake up y/nnie if you continue… “ I heard Wooyoung say in a tired voice and saw him hug San… “Never mind you did wake her up,” Yeosang said as he approached me and kissed my forehead. “Ah- Sorry… Mingi is just acting different” he said and San laughed. “Are you scared of the overgrown wolf now?” San asked and Hongjoong growled at him. 

“How difficult can he be? If anything you might’ve done something” Seonghwa said and he scoffed. “Mingi-ah!! Unlock–” “Go away!!” The wolf interrupted the tiger. “You’ve already woken–” “Shut up you stupid overgrown cat!!” he said and I was shocked at what was happening.

Yeosang laughed at the tiger’s expression of pure shock at the wolf hybrid’s behavior… and his comment towards him. 

“Y/n, Mingi is being mean to the cats!” Wooyoung said as he sleepily wrapped his arms around me. “It’s unfair! It’s my room too!” Hongjoong yelled and kicked the door only to hear a growl shortly afterwards. 

“Everyone just go to sleep… Hongjoong you can sleep in my room” I said, already tired and wanted to quickly go back to the warm bed. I was sleepy and didn’t pay attention to the other’s complaints. But luckily Seonghwa was left for damage control. 

“Shut up all of you… Hongjoong will just  have to take her bed tonight” 

I woke up to a cuddly tiger. I smiled softly at how sweet he was. A major difference from when we first met.

I saw my door open slightly and saw familiar eyes. It suddenly swings open. “You’re awake!!” Wooyoung said loudly, waking up the tiger who groaned and hugged me tighter. 

“Hey, let go of her!!” San said and the tiger scoffed. “I have breakfast all done so get up you lazy tiger!” Wooyoung said and I got the chance to brush my teeth and wash my face before going for breakfast. 

“Did you sleep well?” Yeosang asked and I nodded. “I hope Hongjoong didn’t snore, '' Seonghwa said and Yeosang laughed. It was rare that the two got along outside of their room… instead, it's almost like they bully and tease each other to show how they care. It was weirdly toxic.

I noticed everyone here but Mingi. 

“The wolf is still hogging up my room” Hongjoong angrily said while eating toast. “I’ll bring some food to him,” I said and Wooyoung didn’t let me. 

“Whatever he’s dealing with is hybrid-related–” “He won’t hurt me” I cut him off and he looked away but I noticed the flushed cheeks he had.

“It might be his heat?” 

mingi’s perspective

For some reason, Hongjoong’s presence annoyed me. I felt angry. No… needy? I didn’t know.

I heard a knock and I was about to yell at them before I recognized the sweet scent. 

No… I can never be angry at her.

“Mingi are you okay?” she asked but I didn’t know what to say…

I unlocked the door silently when she realized and entered, only making her scent stronger. It made me… even more hungry for her.

“There's a suspicion you’re in heat,” she said and I groaned. I hated my heat… the she-devil would always trap me in the closet until it ended. The thing with hearts is that I couldn’t ever get off by myself… so when the time came that my heart or even Yunho’s came we’d admit each other to heat hotels. It was uncomfortable.

I nodded while looking away from her. 

“You can go to a heat hotel or suppressants?” I asked and I wondered if I should go for the option most familiar to me. 

Heat Hotels weren’t the worst… Most of the time it was actually helpful. 

“You might wanna get advice from a hybrid though not me”

“Hongjoong is the only one to go to the hotel,” San told me while the rest seemed to agree. “Yeosang, did you go to one?” Seonghwa asked while the doberman scoffed. “No, I didn’t! I wouldn’t waste my time with some stupid run-down hotel” he growled out. 

I highly doubt he went to one with his experience. 

“It was only Hongjoong '' Seonghwa said while the orange tiger seemed uninterested in talking about his experience. “Oh and threatened his heat partner and almost had y/n under a lawsuit,” Yeosang said and I sighed. “Just ask her for help,” San noted and I was shocked they were allowing it so easy. 

The tigers told me how the two canine hybrids completely shut them out until circumstances happened. 

“You won’t be satisfied if you go to a hot hotel. Not with the boner you had when you left your room with y/n '' Yeosang teased and I growled softly. 

“Have you ever even had sex Mingi?” Seonghwa asked and I nodded. “I’ve gone to heat hotels before” I confessed and they sighed. 

“Even if you do decide on a heat hotel they’ll just comment on how you’re a pet. Hybrids seem to hate or pity ‘collectibles’ and just taunt you the entire time” Hongjoong said and I wondered if that's how it was. 

Was it really that different now that I had a fancy collar?

“What if you just go there without a collar?” Wooyoung asked and they shook their heads. “They have a collar policy,” I said.

“I think if he doesn’t want to mate with y/n let him go and see if he survives longer than Hongjoong,” Seonghwa teased but I think it was the best idea.

She wouldn’t want me as a mate anyway. Who would?

“If you feel uncomfortable, have the staff call me okay?” she asked and I nodded. 

They’re pairing me off with another dog hybrid. It wasn’t until I got into the room that I saw what breed… a golden retriever.

“Hi!” she said with a big smile and her tail wagging. The staff left me with her and I felt nothing but sadness. I missed Yunho. 

“You’re a lot bigger than I thought when they told me you were a wolf-runt hybrid,” she said and I tried not to let that offend me. It was normal for hybrids to point out if they were runts.

“You smell like a lot of hybrids though,” she said and I nodded. “I live with five other hybrids,” I said and she looked shocked. “I’m the only one. My owner is nice but she wants to get another hybrid” she pouted and I sighed. Some owners may show favoritism if they do get multiple hybrids.

“What is it like?” she asked and I laughed. “Chaotic” I answered and she nodded. She looked up at me with big doe eyes that I almost mistook her for a deer hybrid. 

“You wanna start?” 

y/n’s perspective

“He’s been gone for four days” Wooyoung whined about missing the wolf hybrid. “I’m surprised how long he’s staying there for,” Hongjoong said and I had to agree. 

Mingi was shy and sweet. I didn’t expect him to last long at a Hyatt hotel. 

“Angel, there's a new perfume I want!” Yeosang said and I smiled. “Oh?” I said and he nodded. “It's only available for pick up in the store” he pouted and I nodded. 

I was already ready and Wooyoung wanted to tag along. 

The three of us went to pick up his perfume and a second one for Seonghwa who would probably steal Yeosang’s if we didn’t.

We were picking up some food when I got a call about the heat hotel.

“I don’t wanna go near there” “Me either!” the two hybrids said and I sighed. “Please it’ll be quick to pick up Mingi,” I said and they agreed eventually.

We got near the hotel when Yeosang was hugging my arm. “Hello, the hybrid paired up with Mingi was picked up early. We wanted to know if you would like a refund for the rest of the days you paid or pair him up with someone new?” she asked and I looked at Mingi who shook his head. 

“I’ll take him now,” I said as she handed me the refund and a paper of the other hybrid’s information. She was a golden retriever hybrid, a purebred too.

“That's such a disgusting place,” Yeosang said and I noticed how quiet Mingi is. I was getting worried… was he okay? Hongjoong was quite like this too when he came to the heat-hotel but that's because of his hatred of how he was called a collectible… was Mingi okay?

We got home and he was still a bit off… was it something that happened?

I followed Mingi to his room when he must've noticed me. He didn’t say anything and waited for me. 

“Are you okay?” I asked and he nodded. “Just… pent up?” he said in a low voice, almost not sure of himself… “Did something happen–” “She reminded me of Yunho… She was a golden retriever hybrid. I guess I was a little angry? I was too rough with her…” he confessed and I kneeled. 

Lately, Kun has been telling me that he’s been a little off when mentioning Yunho. Almost territorial against the dog hybrid who he hasn't seen. 

“Is your heat done?” I asked and he shook his head. “It's okay… I only have a few more days left” he said and I shook my head. 

“I could help?” He looked at me confused. “If that makes you uncomfortable I have heat suppressant–” “Please help me”

no one’s perspective

Mingi almost didn’t know what he was doing. He had very little experience with his heats… he wasn't a virgin but he was also inexperienced… and it's not like you were any better.

“I don’t want to hurt you like I did her” he muttered… “You won’t… you must’ve been remembering Yunho huh?” you reassured and he nodded. 

“This is my home… I finally have something of my own that I don’t share with him” he confessed his wish and you gave him a soft smile “We’ll always be your family,” 

That must’ve comforted him… and probably gave him the courage to kiss you gently, almost too scared to go rough… It was an intimate and almost desperate kiss. 

He then started kissing you on your jaw and neck feeling him suck on your skin making marks of his that will surely tick off the others. Especially Yeosang and Hongjoong…

Desperate for it to escalate you grabbed his hands to make him a little more comfortable and placed them on your chest as he started to massage your chest with each one getting rougher. 

He then ripped the shirt you had on to start marking your skin lower now. Sucking and teasing your chest as he got more rough. 

He looked at you with pleading eyes when his hands found your waist and softly tugged on the pants you were wearing. You nod silently and he takes them off along with your panties. 

He circled your clit with his hands before thrusting his fingers into you. Mingi was very tall and his fingers were reaching places that fingers hadn't found before. It was all new territory as he would be the biggest one you’d take out of all your hybrids. 

At some point the pleasure was too much you couldn’t hold in the whimpers and moans that you let out while he decided to now stretch you and prepare you for his size. “Give me one… just one before I go inside you please, pup,” he had pleaded as you felt your body snap and you listen to him cumming once now by his fingers. Coming off that high you didn’t notice the shuffling as he now lined himself up to your entrance even tapping your clit with his  tip. He grabbed your thighs and looked at you silently seeing if I was okay. In which you’d give him a soft smile that would only fuel his head to get rough with you and corrupt you.

You couldn’t have suspected his size would hurt and stretched you open to the point that it would feel like San taking your virginity all over again. 

“I’m sorry just a little more please?” he’d apologize and soon beg breathlessly as he bottomed out. He moved to kiss away the tears that fell down your cheeks even licking them up to taste the salty liquid.  

“We can stop–” you shook my head and even gripped his arm tighter so he didn’t move. “You’re just so big… I need to get used to it” you whined out and he nodded as he kissed you in hopes to distract you from the burning sensation whilst he was inside you. 

As he stayed still you began to grow frustrated wanting him to move. Whining out “Mingi” he chuckled softly. You were okay but it only irritated you and made you more impatient. He was going painfully slow… and you wanted more. 

“Please Mingi, faster” you pleaded and he nodded as he started going faster. Hybrids were more sensitive during heats but especially now since Mingi has a few days with his heat he started getting desperate and you forgot a crucial detail.

Mingi was a canine hybrid. 

“I’m sorry pup… you can handle it it’ll be okay” he said as he continued giving me sweet praises as he knotted me. Which gave you a delicious type pain as he grew in size.

“Shhh… you said you’d help me right? Just a little more”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[scottish-valkyrie]

I've been told repeatedly to stop over-defending myself, to not litigate everything I do because it makes me look more guilty. And it is mindblowingly frustrating because they have no understanding that for trans women that is the ONLY option. If we leave our actions up to interpretation, it guarantees that it'll be interpreted as malice, as sexual deviance, and with as poor faith as possible. If I and other trans women let you guess to our motivations there's a good chance we end up with a black spot that has us excommunicated from that social group, because TME are more than willing to pass around 'warnings' about the strange and deviant tranny. They do it for their own safety of course, to ensure everyone is on the same page, and suddenly the trans woman who was surrounded by friends is now left feeling cold and alone. And she either realises and leaves, or is made to feel like a leper in the group.

But the thing TMEs don't get is how little justification it takes. For me it was one post with an opinion one friend of a friend didn't agree with. She brought a jury of my friends to a public trial and then after I defended myself, they blamed me for not working to bridge the gap after an ad hominem attack.

Every trans woman I have ever met has had this happen to them, we all have a story of one dumb joke, one awkward interaction. Some miscommunication about the name of a pillow because the other person automatically assumed the worst of them, and they're gone. Iced out and left to die alone. Is it any wonder we hide amongst ourselves

[m0llygunn]

It Gets Worse (Eddie Munson x fem!reader)

Part 2 to Same Old Song and Dance

Summary: As the rhythm of your never ending dance with Eddie speeds up, things change, but is it really for the worse?

Tropes: bully!eddie (kind of), mean!eddie (not rlly tho), enemies to lovers Warnings: 18+, mature language, pet names (princess), oral (male receiving), smut. Authors Notes: thank you to everyone who reblogged/interacted with the first part!! it was the second thing I ever posted on here so it was very cool for me. I hope you like part 2. Part 3 soon! wc: 6.2k

tags: @needylilgal022 @tlclick73

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“It was a poor lapse in judgment. That’s all. If he’s suddenly nicer to me, good. If he stays his same undignified self, fine.” You say, scribbling down the notes you missed. 

You were ‘sick’ yesterday. After what happened with Eddie, you had to be. 

“I think you’re missing one more option there.” Nancy says, eyebrows turned up in concern. 

“I’m not.” You shrug.

“You are.” She persists. 

“Fine, Nance. What am I missing?” You say, putting your pencil down and giving her your full attention.

“He gets worse.” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eddie left your house pretty quickly after it all went down. Probably desperate to get home and ‘rub one out’ as he so eloquently put it. 

You were fine after he left, still riding the post orgasm high. 

It was only after you sat down, taking out your school work, that the worksheet from Mrs. Ward's class knocked you back down to earth. 

You let Eddie Munson, the boy who has terrorized you since elementary school, finger you. And the worst part, it was good. Great, even. 

So naturally, you were sick the next day. You enjoyed yourself an Eddie Munson free day from the safety of your bed. 

Around 7 that night, Nancy called you telling you that Eddie was asking where you were at school. And of course, Nancy with her inquisitive— and extremely persuasive mind, got you to spill your guts. She knows all about your ongoing hostility with Eddie, but for some reason, what happened between you two didn’t surprise her in the slightest. 

In exchange for the gory details of your afternoon with Eddie, she agreed to meet you on the bleachers before school started to borrow her notes. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eddie sauntered into class as if he wasn’t late. He wasn’t phased as Mrs. Ward scolded him. With a muttered ‘Sorry’, he stepped into the classroom, eyes narrowed on you, with a buzzing excitement coursing through his veins and an extra pep in his step.

You had managed to avoid Eddie the whole day up until now.

His eyes burned into you from the minute he appeared in the doorway. The only thing you could do was sit up straighter and pretend like you couldn’t see him. 

Even as he purposefully passed in front of your desk, knocking his fist on the surface as he rounded to his own seat, you pretended he was nothing but a pesky house fly that just barely got on your nerves with its ceaseless buzzing. 

When a note landed on your desk only minutes after his arrival, you took your time opening it. 

‘Where were you?’ was scribbled out in red ink. It didn’t deserve your response. 

Instead, you gathered your hair in your hands, swirling it around your fingers, tying it into a tight bun at the base of your neck. Pulling out a few pieces of hair to frame your face, careful to make sure no strands were inherently ‘pullable'. 

When Mrs. Ward dedicates the remaining portion of class to working with your partners, you close your eyes inhaling deeply before turning.

“Why were you asking Nancy where I was yesterday? Are you, like, obsessed with me now?” You say, beating Eddie to the chase. His eyes open wide, mouth dropping slightly, as his cheeks tinge pink. 

“No.” He says quietly, eyes dropping to his desk where his notebook lays blank, page ripped in half from the note he threw at you. 

“So what then?” You snap. 

He shrugs.

You weren’t expecting him to give up just like that. You jumped the gun on an unexpecting target. The dance is only fun with two people. 

Silence between you two, you set your worksheet down on his desk, swiveling your body to face him. 

As you cross your legs under his desk, your foot rubs his shin and he doesn’t even make any of his usual stupid comments. He doesn’t even look up. 

So you do it again. And again. You let your foot trail up from his ankle all the way to his calf as you scribble ideas down on your worksheet. 

When you hook your foot around his leg you’re surprised when you feel fingers grip your bare ankle.

“Fucking quit it.” He hisses, lifting your leg higher until your knee hits the bottom of his desk in a thud.

“Eddie. I’m wearing a skirt. Let. Go.” You snap, trying to break his grip. 

“Oh, but I thought you liked attention?” He scoffs, eyes set on you harshly.

“Let. Go.” You repeat, kicking your leg trying to free yourself but his grip only gets stronger. 

“You like attention so much, princess, that your giant ego just assumed I was obsessed with you, huh?” He says, amusement rising in his blazen eyes as he watches the way your brows pinch. 

You kick your leg again and his grip becomes impossibly tight, his fingertips nearly bruising into your skin. 

“You’re hurting me, Eddie.” You hiss, your voice gaining the attention of a few surrounding students. 

His grip loosens immediately, dropping your ankle from his hand, and he makes fast work of kicking his chair back and standing from the desk.

Mrs. Ward yells after him as he leaves the class but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even look back. 

You don’t go after him and he doesn’t return to class either. The bell rings and you pack up your stuff, eyes flickering to the door waiting for him to come back for his notebook. He doesn’t though, so you close the notebook, stacking it on top of your own books before exiting the class.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You weren’t going to actively seek him out to give him his notebook back. You were just going to hand it to him in passing. The only issue is, you haven’t seen him. 

“Hey. Your name's Gareth, right?” You say, walking up to the boy as he closes his locker.

“Yeah.” He says, smirking as he looks at you.

“Oh, I’m-”

“We know who you are.” Another boy, who you think is named Jeff, says from the other side of Gareth.

“Eddie’s not around. Was pretty pissed off, actually. Something to do with you, I’m assuming?” Gareth says, brows lifting as he awaits your response.

“Why would it be because of me? He’s the one with the problem.” You scoff, furrowing your brows angrily. Gareth's smirk drops immediately, turning timid under your fire. 

“Hey, hey. Sorry. We just hear about you all the time, it’s exhaust—”

“Gareth.” Jeff cuts him off, shooting him a look.

“Dude, c’mon.” Gareth says to Jeff. Jeff shoots him another pointed look before they start silently communicating with each other through looks.

“Where is he?” You huff, getting annoyed. 

“Your guess is as good as ours.” Gareth says with a shrug. 

“Thanks.” You scoff, spinning on your feet, mad at yourself for even bothering to try and find Eddie. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The notebook’s been taunting you all day, especially now as you sit in your room trying to get your homework done. There it is peeking out from your bag. 

Giving into temptation, you grab the book, taking it to your bed.

Flipping open the first page, it’s just doodles. Flipping another page, more doodles, another page, even more doodles. 

Skipping a few pages you finally find some scribbled messy writing that you can just barely make out. Something about someone named mage? Something about… a dwarf? 

You skip more pages and it’s the same nonsensical writing with something about a sorcerer until it clicks. You find a page titled hellfire and you realize it has to be that nerdy fantasy game he plays with his little friends. 

You quickly get bored. You were hoping for something juicy, something that would provide you with ammunition against him. It’s mostly just a lot of drawings of tits and weird looking demon-y things. 

You slide the notebook under your pillow before going back to your homework. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A knock at your window startles you, heart pounding rapidly against your ribs. When you see eyes through the gap in the curtain your heart nearly stops until you recognize them. Then your heart speeds up again.

You go back to reading your book, kicking your legs back and forth behind you.

He knocks again and you wave. He points to the lock and you shrug, going back to your book, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. 

A third knock. It’s much more aggressive and shakes the shutters making you jump. If your dad was actually home, that would have woken him but he’s not. It’s just you and you know Eddie knows it too because of the empty driveway.

“Jesus Christ.” You mutter to yourself, pushing off your bed.

You unlock the window and he’s quickly pushing it open.

“Notebook.” He says flatly, holding his hand out. 

“Notebook?” You question innocently. 

“Notebook.” He repeats harshly, making you clench your jaw. Who does he think he is, coming to your house and talking to you like that?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You say, turning around and going back to laying on your stomach with your book. 

“You have my notebook.” He states, still perching outside.

“Why would I have your stupid notebook?” You sneer, rolling your eyes. 

“You have it.” He sighs, pushing the window open as wide as it can go. 

“I don’t even see why you would need it at this hour, I never took you as a studier.” You say indifferently, flipping the page of your book. 

You watch out of your periphery as he crawls through your window seamlessly, landing gently on the carpeted floor. 

“Shoes off.” You say but he ignores you, stepping further into the room. “Eddie, I said shoes off.” You repeat more sternly. He mumbles something that you don’t quite catch before he’s kicking off his shoes.

He moves to the side of the bed, standing with his arms crossed, fingers tapping on his forearm. He exhales through his nose in an almost growl and you happily keep your attention on your book as you get him all worked up. 

“Princess, I know you have it, just hand it over so I can go.” He snarls. 

“No.” You say stubbornly, eyes still glued to the pages of your book. 

You see him turn, head darting around the room before landing on your bag next to your desk. He swiftly moves to the bag, picking it up, and before you have time to protest, he’s dumping the contents on the floor.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” You hiss, throwing your book to the side and jumping up from your bed. 

He uses his foot to push around your bag’s contents before giving up since it’s not there. You lower to your knees, picking up your stuff hastily and putting it back in your bag. 

You can feel Eddie’s eyes on you as you gather your things and you're waiting for a snide remark, you know it’s coming.

“You look pretty on your knees like that, princess.” He says, voice low making your stomach squeeze. 

You look up at him with furrowed brows, and his eyes are set on you, looking down the slope of his nose, watching intently.

“Perv.” You scoff.

“Careful, princess. I wasn’t the one throwing myself at you in class today.” He says, laughing meanly.

“I wasn’t doing that.” You retort, feeling your cheeks burn hot. You focus your attention on fitting some loose pages back in your folder that he scattered everywhere.

“So what were you doing then?” He says amusedly. 

“I wasn’t doing anything.” You shrug your shoulders trying your best to hold onto your attitude. 

“C’mon, princess. Don’t play dumb, I’m not into bimbos.” He scoffs, his familiar teasing tone slowly coming back and you do your best to hide your excitement at the prospect of Eddie rejoining this little thing you two do. 

You pause your actions before flickering your gaze to him, looking up through your eyelashes as you sit a little taller.

“So what are you into then?” You question, your voice barely above a whisper, purposefully breathy. His eyes connect with yours before dropping lower, licking his lips in the process. 

“Pretty girls on their knees for me.” He smirks, his freshly wet lips glistening, looking all too inviting and it almost makes you squirm. 

“I’m only on my knees cause you’re a dick.” You mumble under your breath, zipping up your bag.

“Cause my dick- what, sweetheart?” He laughs. 

“You are a dick.” You say louder, clenching your jaw at his stupid excuse of a joke.

“C’mon, princess. Lighten up.” He says, stepping forward. You lean back, his crotch being way too close to you, but then he drops, crouching to your level, his face only inches from yours. 

You pause, waiting to see what he’s doing, but he just looks at you. His eyes are unmeeting of your own, choosing to flutter over your features before bringing a hand to your face, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Notebook, princess.” He sings softly, reminding you why he’s here. 

“It’s at school.” You lie, raising your brows challengingly. 

“No it’s not.” He says confidently.

“Yes, it is.” You argue, furrowing your brows at him.

“No, it’s not, princess.” He sighs and you feel his breath fan over your lips. It takes everything in you not to look.

“Eddie, how the fuck would you know?” You seethe, getting frustrated. You’re supposed to be leading this game, you’re the one on your knees. 

“Cause I looked in your locker. I know it’s not in there.” He says coolly, unaffected. 

“How- What do you mean, you looked in my locker?” You say bewildered, fists clenching at your side. 

“I know it’s not in there, so it must be somewhere in here.” He says, ignoring your question, gaze moving around your room before settling back on you. He winks before standing, his crotch appearing directly in your face until he spins on his heels walking towards your bookshelf. “Gonna make me tear apart your pretty room looking for it, princess?” He taunts, starting to pull out books from the shelf at random. 

“It’s not there.” You say firmly.

“Well maybe I’ll take a look just to be sure. Especially since we both know that you like to lie.” He says, shifting around trinkets on the top shelf.

“I don’t lie.” You huff but he ignores you, continuing to poke and prod at your things.

“Oh look, princess has a princess.” He teases, lifting up a ceramic ornament your dad gave you for your fifth birthday. 

“If you break that I’ll kick your ass.” You threaten, standing up and moving to his side, watching him with crossed arms.

“Kinky.” He teases, putting the ornament down before opening your jewelry box.

“Your notebook wouldn't even fit in there.” You say, rolling your eyes. Now he’s just touching stuff to piss you off.

“You never know, princess.” He replies, rifling around, tangling your necklaces in the process before you swat his hand away.

He steps back, looking around your room again.

“Eddie, give it a rest.” You say, exhaling all the air from your lungs in a huff. 

“Princess, give me my notebook.” He sings, before bounding to your dresser. His hand hovers over the top drawer and he looks back at you with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare.” You hiss.

“It could be in here?” He says innocently. “Everybody knows that the underwear drawer is the best drawer for hiding stuff.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“It’s not in there.” You state.

“So you wouldn’t mind if I took a peek?” He says, fingertips taping on the handle. You purse your lips, he wants to look at your panties so bad, fine. 

“Go right ahead, Eddie. Live up to your perv reputation.” You say, jetting a hip out. He rolls his eyes, before turning, moving on to a different part of your room.

“I wonder what kind of dirty secrets the princess keeps in her bedside table.” Eddie taunts. 

There are no dirty secrets in your bedside table but you’re sure even if he opened that drawer and found nothing he’d still spin it into something.

“Must be a pretty important notebook for you to be doing all this, Eddie.” You say, trying to distract him.

He turns to you, eyes scanning over you, sizing you up. 

“You must like me being in your room princess, you know, considering you could just hand over the notebook.” He retorts, eyebrows raised in challenge. 

“What? Don’t want me reading your precious notebook? That why you need it so bad?” You taunt.

“Princess, if you must know, I need it for something.” He says, lips pulled in a flat line, unbothered.

“Something? That’s not very specific.” You laugh. 

“I didn’t know you were so interested in my life?” He says, perking up.

“I’m not.” You scoff.

“Keep telling yourself that, maybe one day it’ll come true.” He smirks and you want to smack it right off his face.

“Well, you’re the one who was asking about me yesterday.” You spit, words rolling off your tongue.

“You were sick the day before, god forbid I have a heart and a conscience.” He spits back.

The way your own heart speeds up leaves you stumped for words and he picks it up immediately, choosing to double down on you. 

“You weren’t sick though, were you? No. Princess was playing hooky. Who were you trying to avoid, hm?” He says, stepping closer to you.

“No one.” You say quietly, body turning hot under his interrogation.

“That sounds like another lie to me. It’s hypocritical, princess, to make me try and admit something while you can’t tell me one honest thing.” He says, voice all too daunting for your liking.

“I’m not lying.” You whisper.

His demeanor changes, all smirks and taunting eyes gone as he settles into something serious. 

“Did you regret it? Is that it?” He says quietly, voice staying low but he doesn’t step any closer.

“Regret what?” You deflect, buying time for your heart to stop fluttering so hard.

He steps closer.

“Princess, what did I tell you about playing dumb?” You hear his voice vibrate from his chest, words striking something inside of you like a match.

“You said you like pretty girls on their knees better.” You coo, looking at him through your lashes. Keeping eye contact, you sink to your knees in front of him. 

You watch as his eyes widen and it spurs you on. You’re holding the reins now, you’re in control again. Letting your fingertips hook through his belt loops, you pull him forward until he’s right where you want him.

What surprises you is the way he brings his hand to your cheek. It’s soft and almost tender. You could make the mistake of leaning into it, but you don’t. 

“Princess, what do you want from me?” He whispers softly. His round eyes twinkle in your bedroom lights, captivating you entirely.

“I don’t want anything from you.” You purr, fingers still hooked in his belt loops keeping him in place. His hand on your cheek turns into a thumb running soft circles against your skin. 

“Princess.” He sighs, his chest deflating.

“Do you want me to now?” You ask quietly, letting your eyes flicker to his belt line, referring to his words from the last time you tried to get on your knees for him. 

“I didn’t come here for this.” He says, mouth moving in a tight line like he’s fighting some internal battle.

“Yeah, you came here for your notebook.” You state, raising your brows. “But are you gonna let me suck your dick?”

With his jeans tightening by the second his mouth still mulls back and forth, his thumb running soft circles on your cheek. He swallows and you know he’s made up his mind. 

“S’all yours, princess.” He says, punctuating his words with a gentle tap to your cheek.

Unhooking your fingers from his belt loops, you walk them to the buckle, the jangle of metal filling the room as you work at it. He watches you intently, eyes staring heatedly when you finally get it undone.

“You gonna let me touch you?” You say with a teasing lilt, copying the same words he said to you. He catches your tease, lips turning up, smiling at you with amusement. “C’mon, Eddie. Use your words, I know you got ‘em in that idiot mouth of yours.” You add, digging in further with your mockery. 

“You think you're teasing me, but that’s hot, princess. Keep talking.” He says, voice low and taunting as his narrowed eyes flickering over you.

“How many times have you touched yourself thinking about all those pretty noises I made for you, Eddie?” You coo with a breathy sweetness. His smile wavers but the amused sparkle in his darkening eyes remains strong. 

“You don’t want to know, princess.” He replies carefully. 

“I do, Eddie, that’s why I asked.” You let your fingers drag down his clothed thighs, he still hasn’t given you an answer, so you don’t go any further. “It’s barely been two days, how many times could a boy possibly cum?” You ask coyly. 

“Got a high turnover rate, princess. Can pop one boner after another if something really gets me going.” He laughs and you let your lips turn up at his ridiculousness.

“You didn’t answer me, Eddie.” you say, trailing your nails back up the denim on his thighs. He shuts his mouth harshly before opening it again to speak. 

“Anywhere between 2 to 10 times, whatever you think the best answer is, princess. You’re the smart one here.” You laugh and his cheeks tinge pink just enough for you to notice.

“Eddie, I meant my other question. Are you gonna let me touch you?” You say, dipping your head to look at him through your lashes again. His blush deepens as his eyes drink you in, absorbing everything from the way you look at him to the way you speak. 

“Princess, I always want you to touch me.” He whispers, his voice small, yet genuine, and it makes your stomach flutter terribly. 

“Is that so?” You say feigning indifference, fingers ghosting over the button of his jeans. 

“Please.” He says breathily, swallowing thickly as his eyes follow your dainty movements. 

To have him so willing at your fingertips. To have him say please. To have him. It stirs something in you that it’s never done before. None of the teasing, hair pulling, name calling, none of that has made you feel anything but red hot anger. But this… this isn’t anger. You’re still burning, but it’s not anger anymore. 

His fingers smooth your hair, pulling you from your reverie, drawing your attention up to him. His eyes are waiting for you, softer than ever. It makes you want to scream. Makes you want to lash out. Stomp your foot. Throw something.

But you don’t do that. Instead you undo the button to his jeans and lower the zipper. 

“You okay, princess?” Eddie whispers, breaking the silence.

“What?” You snarl, scrunching your face, glaring at him. Overcompensating with an edge. Hiding behind a thin disguise.

“You just went quiet. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He says calmly despite the reckless edge you just threw at him. His fingers pass over the top of your head gently, smoothing your hair again.

“Eddie, I can make my own decisions, thank you very much.” You scoff. 

“Jesus Christ. I try to be nice and this is what I get?” He huffs but there’s barely any malice behind it, just enough to rile you up. 

“Eddie. You just fucking said I was the smart one here, don’t you think I can make my own decisions?” You retort harshly. 

“I know you can, princess.” He says exasperatedly. “Fuck, I think I liked it better when you were quiet, can we go back to that?” He groans.

“Fuck you.” You spit aggressively, hands starting to tug down his denim. You half expected him to stop you but he doesn’t. Instead, when you get them down his thighs, he helps you, kicking them off to the side. 

Left in his plaid boxers, you hook your fingers around the waist band, and look up to him for permission. With a nod, you pull them down, fabric pooling around his feet.

He bobs against his lower belly before settling in front of you. You try not to react, you can’t give him that. The mean part of you was hoping he’d be small just so you could use it against him, another part of you glows with excitement because he’s not. He’s perfect and you would never tell him that.

You take him in your hand and immediately his breath catches in his throat. Barely moving, a whimper rises in his chest. Oh, this is gonna be fun.

You spit in your hand, bringing it to his length, spreading it all over with both hands, making sure he’s nice and wet. 

“Fuck.” He groans and you can’t help the amused smile that spreads on your lips. 

“Eddie, I’ve barely even started, and look at you.” You tease, his cock jolting in your hands. 

“Keep talking, princess.” He whispers, sounding almost desperate.

“You like when I talk?” You laugh. You start pumping slowly with your one hand, dragging back and forth over his hardness. “You just said you wanted me to be quiet.”

He shakes his head aggressively, eyes shutting.

“Like it when you talk, princess.” He moans.

You sit up straighter on your knees, bringing your mouth to his tip, licking just the head. His eyes shoot open, gaze immediately setting on you.

“You like that, Eddie?” You tease and he nods his head dumbly. “Want me to do it again?” He nods again.

You place a kiss to his tip, pulling back to watch his reaction but he doesn’t have any. In fact, he doesn’t even look like he’s breathing.

“Eddie, you gotta breathe, can’t have you passing out just from getting your dick sucked.” You taunt. His mouth opens, sucking in a breath, his chest rising and falling harshly as he lets it out. “Look at you, such a good listener tonight.” You laugh, his dick kicking up in your hand again. You shake your head in amusement before placing another kiss to his tip.

You pull away entirely, pushing yourself off your knees, moving to your bed. He’s clearly not fit for standing right now. 

When you sit, turning back to Eddie, he’s still standing in the middle of your room, hands brought to his face as he rubs aggressively.

“Eddie.” You call, getting his attention. He spins, pulling his hands away from his face, his bangs sticking up in all different directions. You pat the spot next to you and he’s quick to claim it. 

“That’s better isn’t it?” You say as he lays down, hair spanning over your pillow. 

“Better.” He says, voice cracking. 

You settle between his legs, mouth watering as you take him in your hand again. 

You dribble spit over the tip, letting it fall over the head before gathering it, spreading it with a twist of both hands up and down his cock. 

“Gonna let me use my mouth now, Eddie? Or are you still desperate to hear me talk?” You tease, gaze finding his blown out eyes.

He nods but you tut. 

“Wanna hear you say it, Eddie.” You coo, letting your eyes flicker over him. You stop your hand movements when he takes too long to reply.

“Princess, please put your mouth on my cock. Please.” He says, words practically a whine spilling from his lips. 

You nestle closer to him between his thighs, dipping your face, licking up the underside of his cock before opening your mouth and letting it hit against your tongue.

You watch him carefully, reveling in the way he’s falling apart for you. His chest rises and sinks in steady pants, mouth set agape, as his wide eyes watch your every move.

Closing your lips around him, you let him slide in just enough for you to swirl your tongue around his tip.

“Fuck” He groans. You hum, not missing the way his thighs clench as you do.

His hand finds your head, combing your hair back, resting his palm against the side of your face. Most guys start pushing on the back of your head, but Eddie doesn’t. 

Flattening your tongue, you take him deeper in your mouth, twisting your hands around him and meeting your mouth halfway up his length.

His other hand takes purchase on the mattress, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the comforter. It’s completely dichotomous to the gentle grip he holds on your face. It’s almost laughable. 

You bring your head up and down before pulling off with a pop, spitting on the tip again, making sure your hands glide slickly along his length. 

“Is that good, Eddie?” You ask before returning your mouth to his cock. Your added spit makes a slick, wet noise as you move your fists up and down on his length.

“Fuck, princess. S’really good.” He gasps breathily, his stomach tensing as your thumb wipes at the precum gathering on his tip.  

You smile before parting your lips, taking him back in your mouth.

You take him further this time, his cock hitting the back of your throat and he whimpers pitifully. You do it again and his fingertips press in the slightest bit harder against your face, still not pushing you, just translating his pleasure through his touch.

You hollow your cheeks, sinking harder and faster, bobbing your head. His fingers weave into your hair gently and it spurs you on. You take him deeper, relaxing your throat, letting him slide right in until your lips meet your fingers at his base.

When you do it again, you push yourself a little too hard, gagging yourself, sputtering as you rise. With a deep, broken moan Eddie’s hips follow your mouth, only settling back to the bed when you pull off of him with a gasp as you catch your breath. 

“Jesus Christ.” He whimpers under his breath.

You feel his cock pulsing in your fist, his hand tugging ever so gently on the roots of your hair and you start to think you might just like this too much. 

You take him in your mouth again, all the way back to your throat, removing your hands entirely until your nose nestles against the wispy hairs above his shaft.

You exploringly let your fingertips tiptoe to his balls, taking them in one hand, massaging them gently.

“F-fuck. Fuck.” Eddie groans, stomach tensing sharply, his thighs squeezing against you. 

You jerk your head on his cock, continuing to massaging his balls using the mess of wetness leaking down his shaft to help guide your skillful movements.

It’s not long before every bob of your head is being chased by the rise of his hips. He’s desperate for release, you both know it.

You flicker your eyes to him and he’s never looked more scattered. Bangs disheveled, cheeks rosy, brows pinched, half lidded eyes all dark and pleading, just for you. You do like it too much, you really, really do.

His gaze meets yours, flickering between you and your mouth.

“Doing so fucking good princess. Don’t stop. Please.” He whines. You hum contentedly, sinking onto him, hands still working his balls as they tense in your grasp. 

His hand in your hair starts to sting as he pulls at it but he still doesn’t push you, he wouldn’t do that unless you told him to, you’re sure of it now.

His moans and whimpers rise, getting higher and longer, composing a symphony just for you. It comes to a crescendo when you take him all the way to his base again. His hips rise from the mattress, cock choking you, and you swallow around him, making him cry out a desperate moan that simmers into a broken whimper.

You know he’s close. 

You hum to yourself, gulping him into your mouth, meeting his quick, uneven thrusts. 

“I’m g-gonna cum.” He says in a strangled moan. His hand in your hair tugs impossibly hard, trying to pull you from him but you don’t let him. He doesn’t make your decisions, you do. He should know better.

You quicken your pace, bobbing your head and working him in your hands. The obscene, slicked noises coming from your movements fill the room, accompanying his moans, and he breaks. 

For a moment, you watch him as he falls apart and it’s beautiful. Eyes rolling closed, face contorted in pleasure. It’s undeniably beautiful. You don’t let yourself drink in his beauty for too long though, that would be like admitting something and you wouldn’t do that so you refocus on the task at hand (and mouth).

Cum spurting to the back of your throat, you take him deeper a final time, swallowing it all down until you can’t. You pull up, feeling some leaking for the corners of your lips but you keep going, working him through his release as his cock throbs against your tongue. 

He cums so hard that he’s babbling different versions of praises intermixed with your name. Your real name. Not princess, and it takes you by surprise. 

“Fucking shit. F-Fuck.” He whimpers, hips sinking back to the mattress, stuttering. You slow your movements before pulling off of him with a satisfying ‘pop’. 

His cock is shiny, the cum that didn’t get swallowed, gathering around his base. You flicker your eyes to him and he’s watching you now with a glazed over stare. Dipping your mouth to him one last time, you lick up the pearly shine and he looks at you like he might explode. 

You pull away with a laugh, wiping your mouth. 

His body deflates, melting into the mattress as he throws his head back against the pillow, eyes squeezing shut.

“Holy shit.” He groans.

You shift in between his thighs, hands disgustingly wet and sticky so you reach up, wiping both of them down the front of his shirt, leaving behind the glistening wet print of 10 fingers on the black fabric. You expect him to say something but his eyes remain closed, breathing still heavy.

With a gap between the two of you, you lay down beside him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Your eyes move up, taking in the rosiness of his face and the way it spreads down his neck. You even take the time to notice the delicate way his thick lashes lay atop his cheeks.

“You better not fall asleep here.” You sneer, shaking your head, forcing yourself to stop staring before he notices.

“Why not? Daddy’s not home is he?” He says, breathing still heavy.

“Don’t be a dick.” You retort. He pauses, sucking in a deep, steadying breath and letting it out.

“Pretty sure mine just melted off.” You see his smirk on his face, but his eyes remain closed.

“No, it’s still there unfortunately.” You say flatly, eyes flitting to his softening dick.

“Unfortunately?” He laughs.

“Yup.” You reply.

Eddie shifts the slightest bit, hand raising from his side as he blindly feels around the bed. When he touches your hip you try to swat him away but he grabs your hand, forcing his fingers to intertwine with yours.

“Gross, stop trying to hold my hand!” You shriek, holding back your laughter as you try to shake him off.

“Princess, let me hold your fucking hand. You just sucked the soul right out of me, I need this.” He says with a laugh, grasp getting stronger with each shake of your wrist. 

“You're so weird.” You say, hiding your amusement, trying to find any hint of malice to add to your words but it comes out meak.

Eddie lays there for a few minutes, your hand in his. You try to ignore his radiating warmth by thinking about the project you’re supposed to be doing with him but your eyes keep sinking to your hand in his. 

“What time should I pick you up tomorrow?” Eddie says, turning to face you, opening his eyes finally. His question startles you, taking you aback.

“What?” You laugh.

“For school. What time should I pick you up?” He says again, speaking to you like you’re a child.

“You’re not picking me up.” You state. It’s not up for debate.

“You’re not playing hooky tomorrow, and if I pick you up, I can be sure of it.” He says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“You’re not picking me up.” You state again.

“Fine. I’ll sleep here tonight then tomorrow we can walk to school together.” He replies, tilting his face towards you and lifting his brows.

“You can't sleep here.” You object firmly.

“Princess.” He says warningly.

“Eddie.” You warn back. His eyes stare into you, making your stomach flutter with nerves. 

“I’m going to brush my teeth and wash my hands.” You say abruptly, pulling your hand from his.

“I’ll be here.” He sings teasingly.

“No. You. Won’t.” You reply stubbornly as you haul yourself off the bed and out of the room.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Nancy's words from earlier ring in your head. 

‘He gets worse.’

The game you play is shifting. The dance is speeding up. It makes your heart beat too fast and your stomach flutter dreadfully.

Maybe she was right. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

part 3 here

[mono-moonchilds]

NOT THE ONLY ONE | JJK

⤑ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

⤑ genre: smut and angst

⤑ rating: explicit (18+)

⤑ word count: 3.3K

⤑ summary: whoever said that the truth would set you free was a liar. the truth was cold and it hurt. and sometimes it still left you stuck in the same cycle.

⤑ warnings: college fic, jk is an asshole, manipulative behavior, infidelity, gaslighting, sad!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, oc wants to be loved, toxic relationship

⤑ part one

The morning after was always the worst.

A harsh feeling of shame washing over every step you took as you made your way through the campus. Realistically no one knew. There was no way they could. It wasn’t like Jungkook was going to tell anyone and you definitely weren’t either. But despite knowing that it still didn’t help. It felt like everyone was staring at you- quietly judging you for the decisions you made.

Could you blame them though?

You knew exactly how everything was going to end the moment you saw Jungkook at your door. The worst part was that you’d do it again. Despite the shame and the sadness, you’d do it all over again just for those few fleeting moments of happiness.

It was pathetic.

Always craving more of Jungkook even after he showed you his true colors time after time. Always trying to convince yourself of the maybes. That maybe he would be true this time, maybe he’d stay, maybe he would simply see that you were worth it. That you were worth his time, his energy, his commitment.

It was something about never being the first choice that really fucked with someone’s well-being. Fucked with the way you carried yourself- the way you looked at yourself.  Sometimes when you looked at old photos you couldn’t even recognize the person you saw. The bright smile you once sported was so foreign and far to you now. 

“Y/n!” You turned to see Hoseok jogging your way. The sweet smile he always sported etched across his face just like usual. “I’ve been calling your name for a while now.”

“Ah- sorry. Didn’t even hear you.”

“I’m about to go meet Yoongi for lunch you wanna come?”

“I got a class that starts in like fifteen minutes,”

“Gross,” Hoseok gagged in disgust. “Come on just ditch this once. I got shit to tell you about last night.”

“I can’t. It’s one of Professor Williams’ classes. You know how she is.”

Right on cue, just like it always did when Hoseok heard that name, the smile on his face dropped only to be quickly replaced with genuine annoyance and anger. “Fucking hate that bitch,” He grumbled with a scowl.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “For some reason, something tells me the feeling is most likely mutual.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes. “I got weed,” He reached into his pocket pulling out a baggy. “Top tier gossip and weed. You’re crazy if you turn this down.”

“As tempted as I am, I still gotta say no. Top tier gossip and weed or my literal grade in a class that I pay to attend.” You held up your hands as if you were physically weighing both options. “I think we both know the obvious choice here.”

Hoseok booed, quite literally booed, throwing down both thumbs in the process. “Fine. Even though we both know you could tell that woman you murdered someone and she would still let you make up anything you missed. What’s the point of being the teacher's pet if you don’t use it for your advantage?”

“Save me some and tell me everything when I get home later?”

“I don’t know,” Hoseok shrugged. “I may not be in a talky mood later.”

It was silent for only a moment before the two of you both burst into laughter. Hoseok not being in the mood to talk? That was like a fish suddenly deciding it could live without water. It was never going to happen.

As you watched Hoseok leave, the tiny slither of okay-ness that you’d briefly felt left with him. Maybe you should just ditch class this once. Realistically what harm could it do? You were already ahead in your work and like Hoseok said Professor Williams wasn’t going to do anything to you if you missed a class. God knows you could use the distraction. The second Hoseok left; your brain immediately went back to Jungkook. 

What was he doing? What was he thinking? Did he feel bad for leaving you like that? Did he feel bad for the way he treated you?

You already knew the answer to these questions, but you still couldn’t help but think of the maybes. Those damn maybes and the endless possibilities they could hold were going to be your downfall.

“H-,” You were about to call out to Hoseok telling him to wait up when something stopped you in your tracks.

More accurately- someone stopped you in your tracks.

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve sworn that you were having a heart attack. The pain in your chest is almost enough to knock you to your knees. You blink once, twice, and then a third trying to convince yourself that you were going crazy. That you’d finally lost it and were just seeing things.

But no matter how much you blinked or rubbed, the sight just wouldn’t go away. It was real. The girl clinging to Jungkook’s arm was very real. You wanted to believe that it was something new- that she was just another fling like you but there was something that was off. The way the two of them held each other had a sense of familiarity. The way their hands and eyes lingered. This wasn’t a fling and it definitely wasn’t anything new.

It was cultivated.

It was seasoned.

It was everything you wanted.

“I love you,” The girl leaned up pressing a long kiss to Jungkook’s lips. Even the way he smiled- it was something that you’d never seen before. The small smile on his face as he stared down at her with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“Love you too baby.”

Your heart shattered.

When the two turn to go their separate ways Jungkook notices you. His mouth fell open a little as he looked between you and his girlfriend. She was none the wiser. A happy little bounce in her step as she entered the nearest building. Jungkook said nothing and neither did you. In fact, you did the exact opposite. You turned and ran, hightailing it out of there as fast as you could. There was this hope that Jungkook would yell after you, that he would chase you down and say something.

He never did.

Her name was Imani.

She was an education major. She had an older sister, a German Sheppard, and two loving parents. She liked taking pictures of sunsets. Always posted her adventures with her friends. Had more community service under her belt than a delinquent teen that was being forced by the state. She’d been on two study-abroad trips. One in Japan and the other in Brazil. And as recently as last semester she’d transferred into the University after leaving one that’d been closer home.

She was kind of difficult to find. And for a moment you thought maybe you were seeing things. From Jungkook’s Instagram page, you would’ve never even assumed he had a girlfriend. Most of his pictures consumed him at the gym or of random food he’d eaten. There were no pictures of her or them together and Jungkook had his tags hidden. It wasn’t until you went through the comments of ten different pictures that you found her.

l0V3lY.M4N1: my baby is so handsome 😍

Jungk00k: 💖💖💖

Her page told a different story.

Jungkook was everywhere. He was in a post as recent as a week ago and one as old as five years ago.

Imani and Jungkook had been together since their junior year of high school.

They’d attended prom together, went to each other’s family functions, hell- they spent holidays together.

If you weren’t so close to the verge of tears you’d laugh. The whole thing is hilarious in a sick way. This entire time you’d been hoping- praying that Jungkook would see you as a person when in reality he already had his person. He’d had her for half a decade. She was pretty and vibrant. Kind of reminded you of those girls you’d see on Pinterest. Perfect makeup, perfect hair, cute clothes.

You were a mess. The fading pink curls on your head matted together. The sweat jacket and pants you had on hung sloppily against your body.

With a loud noise, Jungkook's name pops across your screen. You immediately send him to voicemail. He doesn’t give up though. No matter how many times you decline the call Jungkook keeps calling again and again and again.  You could’ve easily blocked him but something about the persistence he was finally making made your heart flutter in a sad way. A sick smile creeping onto your mouth each time his name popped back up. After the tenth time, you couldn’t help but swipe your thumb across.

“Open the damn door.” Click. There was a heavy knock. Your hand was already on the doorknob before you could even let out the next breath.

When the opened the door, it was like muscle memory. A loud smack echoed through the hall. 

“Damn,” A distant voice in the hall echoed out.

Jungkook’s head slowly turned back to face you. His eyes were low with anger. “That make you feel better?” He huffed out.

“No. Go the fuck home Jungkook.”

Of course, he didn’t listen. Just like the night before he pushed his way into the apartment shutting the door behind him.

“List-”

“You’re a real piece of shit you know that right?” You cut him off. “Just when I think you couldn’t get any worse you prove me wrong. You have a girlfriend!”

“It doesn’t mean anything,”

You blinked in disbelief. Did he really just say that? You couldn’t help but laugh. Jungkook stared at you like you’d grown two heads. His face twisted between a mix of discomfort and confusion.

“You’ve been together for five years.”

 “How do you even know that?”

You held up your phone flicking on the screen. “It’s all right here,”

“What the fuck,” Jungkook attempted to reach for the phone, but you were too quick. Stepping back, you smoothly moved it away. “Are you fucking crazy!” You jumped at the sound of Jungkook’s booming voice.

There was nothing but pure disgust on his face and even though it should’ve truly been the opposite way around you couldn’t help but feel shame.

“What is wrong with you?”

You couldn’t even answer. The phone you were holding so proudly in the air just a second ago now feeling as heavy as a bag of sand.

“I don’t even know why I came here,” Jungkook sighed letting out a deep breath. “I’m leaving.”

Let him leave.

Please just let him leave.

Your brain quietly begged you.

His hand was on the knob. Jungkook was almost gone. Just let him leave.

“Jungkook please,” You quietly called out. “Please don’t leave. I’m…. I’m- I’m sorry.”

For once when you looked at Jungkook he genuinely seemed to be in shock. Like even he was in disbelief of what he’d just heard. You couldn’t even believe it yourself. Out of all the things you should’ve said, had you really just apologized?

“Please-” He closed his eyes. “Don’t apologize…. why are you fucking apologizing? Shit-” Jungkook whispered running his hands over his face. “I…I can’t,”

“Jungkook please,”

“What do you want from me!” The dark hair boy whipped around. “Fuck…baby,” Jungkook swore again. “I didn’t mean to yell. Please don’t cry.”

You whispered a small okay, but the tears didn’t stop. Even as Jungkook moved forward his soft hands cupping your face as he gently tried to wipe the tears away, they didn’t stop. Just like last night when Jungkook touched you- you couldn’t help but lean further into him. Your body curled into him as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“What are you doing to me?” Jungkook mumbled. It was so quiet you weren’t even sure you were meant to hear it.

For the first time since the very first time, Jungkook was soft. His lips gently caressed yours as he guided you through the narrow hall and to your bedroom.  As Jungkook laid you down you couldn’t help but cling to him. Your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body as if you let go he would just disappear. You knew he was going to leave at some point- he always did- but for right now you wanted him as close as possible. 

Imani be damned. Jungkook was yours and you were his.

At least for this moment.

“Take this off,” He tugged at your jacket. Without a second thought, you leaned forward sliding the jacket over your head before letting it fall to the floor. “My pretty girl,” Jungkook whispered sliding your bra off next. A low whine escaped you as Jungkook’s fingers ghosted across your skin.

“What do you want?”

“Anything,”

A light chuckle left Jungkook’s nose. In all honesty, it made you feel gross. The way the knowing smirk registered on his face as he thought about your words. Even though you hadn’t technically said it Jungkook knew what you meant. He knew exactly what he was doing and that alone should’ve made you push him off you.

But you didn’t. Instead, you begged.

He just shushed you. “You don’t want me to rush right?”  You quickly shook your head. “I know you don’t want me to.”

With that, Jungkook went back to what he was doing. Tracing his fingers along while you lay there taking whatever he gave you. Piece by piece, Jungkook took his time removing the remainder of your clothes.

“I haven’t even done anything and you're so fucking wet,” Jungkook reached down spreading your lips apart. “You’d take anything I gave you. Do anything I say. Wouldn’t you?” You gave a shameful nod. Jungkook just smiled smugly to himself.

You let out a breath of relief as Jungkook finally leaned down pressing long kisses against your body. The dark-haired boy not stopping until he was right in front of the place you needed him most.

The loud blaring of Jungkook’s phone ringing pulled the two of you from the moment. You couldn’t see who was calling but for some reason, you already knew.

“Hi baby,” Jungkook said sweetly into the phone confirming your suspicion. The lust-filled fog you’d briefly felt immediately lifted and now all that was left was disgust. What the hell were you doing?

“No no-” He laughed. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you. Yeah no-” Jungkook let out a deep breath. “I’m still not feeling to well.” A soft whimper escaped your lips as Jungkook took his thumb resting it on your clit as he rubbed against the small button in circular motions.

Pouting his lips out, Jungkook silently shushed you. “No babe don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll be fine tomorrow. M’just gonna lay down and go to sleep.” He pushed a finger in making you gasp.

“Yeah, I know.” Jungkook hummed. “I love you too,”

If Jungkook hadn’t hung up the phone so quickly the sound of you bursting into tears would’ve definitely exposed the five different lies he’d just told. Never once in all your years had you experienced two totally different emotions at once. 

“Y/n- baby,” Jungkook cooed softly as he leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sucked in a shaky breath, arms wrapping around your body. “What the fuck-” You heaved. It felt like you were about to throw up. “Oh my god… what am I do- you-you have a girlfriend.”

“But I’m here with you. Just let me do this.” Jungkook begged. He sounded so sincere. You could feel yourself falling back under. “Just one last time. You- you drive me crazy.”

It was so sad how that was all it took for Jungkook to have you back under his spell. A faint smile filled his lips as he pushed back so he could stand up and pull down his pants. The tip of his cock was dark red and leaking with anticipation.

You began to roll over onto your stomach but a hand resting on your hip stopped you. “I wanna see you,” Your heart swelled.

Despite the position change, Jungkook was still as rough as he usually was. His fingers dug harshly into your throat as he fucked you. As much as you didn’t want to think about it you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if this was how he treated Imani. The very nature in how he spoke to her was so different that you couldn’t imagine it to be true. Jungkook was probably so gentle with her, he took his time making her feel special with every touch while with you Jungkook just fucked you like some whore.

And that’s all you were. At least to him.

That still didn’t stop you from grasping at his arm as you asked for more.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Jungkook demanded. “Wanna see you. Need shit-” He let out a deep groan. “Need to see you.”

You nodded your head in compliance but with the way Jungkook pushed into you, it was too hard to keep your word. “ah- Kook…please- fuck,” The way he looked on top of you was so gorgeous. His hair hung in his face as his eyebrows twisted in determination.

“I know baby,” Jungkook gasped as he twisted your left nipple between the balls of his fingers. “You’re so good- doing so fucking good.” You let out a loud whine. “What is it, baby?”

“Muh-more. Please- more,”

“Words baby,”

You weren’t even sure what you meant. Whether you meant it literally, figuratively, or both. Probably both. All you wanted was Jungkook.

Instead of saying anything else you just pulled him closer until his body was lying flat against yours. When Jungkook pulled away you almost felt yourself about to cry, rejection flooding your body, but within seconds he hushed you pulling your legs onto his shoulders before he leaned down pressing himself against you again.

“No marks,” He muttered sternly. You hadn’t even realized you’d begun. Jungkook didn’t follow his own direction though. His lips sucking eagerly on your neck as he continued to fuck you open.

You couldn’t help the tears rolling down your face. You just wanted this all the time. Wanted Jungkook all the time.

“Please, please”

“My pretty baby gonna cum?” You bounced your head eagerly. “Me too- mmm… you feel so fucking good.” You gasped loudly clenching tightly around him. “That’s right baby- give it to me.”

You’re sure the neighbor can hear you as you scream out in pleasure from the band in your stomach snapping. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as nothing but the sound of static and color white filled your brain.

Jungkook came with a loud groan. His body stuttering against yours as his warm cum painted your walls creamy white. Even as Jungkook fell to the side rolling onto his back you didn’t let him go. Your arms wrapped around his stomach as if he would disappear if you let him go for just a second.

Because he would. Undoubtedly Jungkook was going to leave you and there was nothing you could do about it.

He was going to walk out of here and go back to Imani as if nothing between the two of you had ever existed. Just the thought of him running his hands along her deep brown skin is enough to make you want to puke.

And as much as you wanted to hate her you couldn’t. You were the one in the wrong. Maybe you didn’t know about her at first but now you did, and you’d still slept with Jungkook.

“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“I hate you. I hate you so much.” You sobbed.

“I know,” Jungkook took a long pause. “I hate me too.”

When you woke up the next morning just like you expected your room was empty. The only trace of Jungkook even being here is the scattered marks along your jaw. 

When you picked up your phone it’s still where you left it last night.

On Imani’s Instagram page.

You don’t know why you did what you did next.

You click the little blue button in the top left corner.

⤑ A/N: I'm sorry guys I know a lot of you who liked the first story wanted a part two where jk was redeemed but tbh I just could not think of a storyline for that. even when this one-shot was originally jikook I had always imagined that if there was a pt 2 in the next fic jk would turn out to have had a significant other the whole time. also, I like angst sue me :p

[mandukkul]

TEENAGE ANGST — n. rk

synopsis: you’re suppose to spend yet another birthday alone wallowing in teenage angst, but someone steps in and breaks the cycle

tags: non!idol!riki x f!reader, comfort, angst (not too much i think), a bit of fluff, maybe coming of age

warnings: riki doesn’t appear until like 1/3 into the oneshot, NOT PROOFREAD!!! cursing, angst (i think), spelling and grammatical errors (i wrote tbis at 2am and finshed it at 3 leave me alone), lots and lots of mis-capitalisations, tense errors probably, teenage angst 😰 , let me know if there are any more

word count: 4.7k

published: 13 July

authors note: first writing piece on here, my birthday is on september 8th but i wrote this maybe back in may

You think as a teenager, the worst thing that could affect you was teenage angst. but for you, it would probably be the least of your problems. Instead wallowing like every other teenager before you, locked deep into their rooms never to see the sun until they were 20, you decide it’s better to fix your problem with a day out. 

you’re going to be better than what the stereotype says. I mean who’s better at swimming in your own self pity than yourself of course. Even if your parents had decided that travelling abroad for months on end as a job was better than staying at home in the giant house they bought to live as a family, or leave a teenager alone instead of bringing her along, you won’t let it bother you like it did the previous years. 

Although you couldn’t feel bad, your parents were dreaming big, even if you became merely a side thought in that dream. Any teenager would live blissfully with all the materials you had. It was truly a dream, but a dream can only become reality if you make it. 

You’re not going to think so negatively and say that people around you would rather see you burn than to see you happy, even though that’s exactly what you’re saying. 

You’re a kid with everything you want, but surrounded by other kids who are and have basically the same as you, only with parents in the picture, you’re at bare minimum on the grand scale of things. 

To live your life with no one by your side, unless you count the people who dislike you at school, is harder than you think. 

But you’ve lived your life like this far too long to complain, it’s been routine to be left alone. only now, the difference is that your birthday was today. 

spending what most would say a precious day, in a house so hollow you’d think it was abandoned isn’t exactly ideal.  Being alone could only add to your ever growing list of reasons to angst over. not even you, who seemed accustomed to this trend, would want to be reminded of how alone— lonely— you are. 

so to attempt to turn a new leaf, you urge yourself to spend it differently, you told yourself. straying from your normally secretive emo self, you decide that traveling to the next suburb ,since you heard about a new promotion of the manga you liked being released in a cafe in said suburb, was a good way to ignore your ever piling problems of self-destructive tendencies. 

but oh how the world is against you, even if it is your birthday. 

The bus suddenly needs to take a detour to a different area you’re not too familiar with, then declares that the route must be canceled due to complications leaving you stranded in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. When checking your phone to find where you are, you see that you are not only an hour walk away from your house, but your phone is standing on its last legs with a messily 20%. 

To test your limits further, the sky starts to cry the moment you’re just far enough from your house that running back would do more harm than good. 

you quickly scope your area, finding that there are no parks in the vicinity to offer mercy from the rain, and the closest shelter is either 20 minutes forward to the bus stop or the array of trees planted along the side wall as decorations. 

you way your options, and take the tree closest to you as refuge. you’re glad the area you’ve wandered to is littered with them, even better that they're thick enough to offer some kind of protection. 

minutes passed and the rain hasn’t let up, going at the same harsh rate it has been going at for the past 10 minutes. your clothes, so obviously drenched, weighs you down causing your minimal moves to become sluggish (or maybe it’s the premonition of sickness approaching). 

the trees hang low with despair, mimicking your very attitude. rain licks your face, and you can’t tell whether your tears finally made its greeting or it’s rain getting into your eyes.  

you start to ponder whether running to the back home would be a better idea than your lovely tree, the idea of escaping your rain soaked clothes seeming like a dream as of right now, a dream escaping you the longer you wait. 

you test your already bad luck, because god so obviously has a vendetta against you, deciding your next best option was to end your little escapade and head back home in the rain. 

Barely ten minutes in, with wet sneakers splashing into deep puddles and your clothes glued to you like second skin, the rain starts to roar, angered by your decision apparently. 

your vision can’t help but blur due to the heavy rain clouding your sight, and the hair that stubbornly sticks itself into your forehead and subsequently, your eyes. it’s hazy and you can barely make out the road in front of you, you’re glad the path ahead of you is empty and that you’ve arrived in a more familiar area. 

I guess not even you can escape the clutches of teenage angst, slowing your strides and accepting your fate. 

you think how stupid and cliche you look walking in the rain with a frown. Your feet dragging, now feeling the effects of almost an hour in the rain, and on your birthday of all days. The only thing to complete your look was loud sad emo music. 

stopping in your tracks, letting the rain do what it wants, you begin to think back to what you must’ve done to anger god so much. 

you shut your eyes for just a moment, to shield yourself from rain trying to attack your eyes, but the rain suddenly stops, or more accurately, something is blocking the rain from you. you begin to hear the pitter patter of rain against an umbrella and just for a moment, you think god has found pity in your wallow and granted you mercy. When opening your eyes, low and behold, a black umbrella meets your face. 

oh and there’s Riki, or what he likes to be called, Niki, standing in front of you, holding the umbrella over your head acting as your current saviour. 

so much for God's mercy. 

If your day wasn’t already so bad, you’d say that seeing niki would be the worst part of your day. Unfortunately for you though, it was the best. 

you and niki have never been on the same page, ever since he ‘accidentally’ bumped into you while you were in an empty hall. you had given him many chances to be nice to you, or atleast apologise, but as days passed from the first meeting, all you’ve received was strange stares you know all too well. When confronting him, all he could do is ignore you and or play dumb.  This interaction had left a massive rift between the two of you, and being a not so popular kid  in highschool compared to the ‘king of dance’ was not a good look. 

“why are you trying to be a main character” is the last voice you want to hear from, especially on this joke of a birthday. you crane your neck slightly, meeting face to face with the face you hate (and hate to say is extremely easy on the eyes). “why are you trying to stop my main character moment” you shoot back with equally as much snark, but it comes off weak as you underestimated the sound of rain. 

Niki looks down at you with the same glint in his eye you dislike, not because it was a judgmental one, but one of mystery because you can never guess what he’s thinking. “sorry sorry, should i let you get back to that” he removes the umbrella from above you but you make no attempt to stop him. 

the rain embraces you once again, as harsh it was moments ago. you state a niki again, his dry figure under the comfort of his darken umbrella, staring at you who seemed to be physically separated from him. 

talk about rift. 

you’ve never noticed how far you were from niki, in a metaphorical sense. Niki had everything you had, and more. He had people to talk to, hang out with, care about and care for. He too, probably went through his fair share of teenage angst, but you think to yourself that this is the first (and only) win.  

he sees this and halts his movement, examining your figure deeply. you seem tired. along with the wet suit you’re wearing, and unruly hair dripping at its tips, you look far different to how you present yourself at school. nonchalant and cool, an enigmatic girl who seems to always be out of everyone’s business but as of now, you look (in the nicest way possible) like a train wreck. 

“Are you taking joy out of watching me wallow?” you scoff, staring at him with a distasteful eye, “i’m not a sadist” he jokes but he’s the only one who’s smiling. 

he coughs to clear his throat, or maybe the awkward atmosphere, you’re too tired to care. you watch as he moves the umbrella back under you, “why are you standing in the rain anyways?” he questions. 

“m trying to get home” you whisper loud enough to beat the rain, looking at Niki who’s features seem to fuzz up the more you blink. 

“don’t you live 3 streets away?” he adds, you only nodding in response.

your movements are suddenly too sluggish to call lazy, the effects of an hour in the rain finally hitting you. 

“aren’t your parents worried?” 

probably

“my parents are overseas,” you mumble as he nods knowingly, having his fair shares of travelling parents, although he has his sisters to accompany him, “and i don’t feel like spending my day alone”

birthday 

you think how this is the first real conversation you’ve had with niki, ever since your first encounter. Normally you’d stray away from him, so much as  look in your direction, you’re off to avoid further conflict and instead plan a faux argument comeback for if the day ever arrives. 

you rub your eye to rid the haze that had gotten worse, along with the bodily ache and pounding head. 

niki notices, he always notices you. seeing you off in your own world from a distance. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone laced with concern, or at least that's what you think. He moves his hand to wipe some hair out of your face, attempting to help with your irritable eyes. 

Despite the cold weather, you’re hot to the touch. 

“oh shit, you’re burning up” he goes into mother mode as he touches your forehead, seeing as that’s what his sister and mother do when he has his own fever. you mumble an incoherent response, you’re not sure what you said either. 

“I should get home then” you mumble, stepping away from safety and into the rain. He goes to stop you, but the moment you move you’re in shambles, collapsing into his arms like some damsel in distress. 

oh fuck

…

sometimes you think to yourself, what did you do to end up here? and when i mean here, i don’t mean the literal sense, i mean the place you are in life, because for you, all you seem to do is piss of whoever’s writing your story, because why else would you be living such a shitty (but not enough to outwardly complain) life. 

The second you wake up in bed was your first red flag. the sheets a bluish grey, far different from your own floral white ones. The bed is softer, and the quilt more warm, but that might just be from the sheer exhaustion you exhibited some time ago. 

The next flag was the scary tall silhouette you see entering the room, holding what looks like a black plastic bag filled with various things. 

riki looks much more intimidating when all you can make out is his outline. 

the moment he turns around from shutting the door, he sees your eyes staring at him and the previous blank expression he wore changes into a face of concern. 

“oh you’re awake” he scrambles words together as he stalks up to for bedside, placing the plastic bag beside him as he examines your condition like some kind of doctor. 

“clearly” you croak, and you find out that your voice is extremely hoarse (and sore). 

“try not to speak, i think you have a fever from standing under the rain” he deduces but you can’t help but scoff, “gee, who would’ve guessed”. 

the sick you are even snarky than normal you. 

Niki chuckles at your comment as he shuffles around the plastic bag for a bottle of water and what looks like painkillers. 

you shift your head to watch him as he assorts the medicine and water onto the bedside table, pulling out a small mandarin to complete the collection. 

“What's with the orange?” you whisper, trying to not use your voice too much, “vitamin c” he answers simply and you can’t help but laugh at him. 

you manoeuvre into a sitting position to take what he’s giving you, ignoring the pain striking your head as you do so. 

as you pop pills and chug water, you continue to scan the room. It's pretty boring, with a table with a few pieces of stationary, and a shelf with some personal touches. 

Niki sees you’re so obviously inspecting the room, and coughs up an answer. 

“oh umm- sorry. i didn’t know where you lived and you had passed out and i panicked and brought you to my house” he explains. that explains the strange surroundings. you’re in his room. 

you think about how different his room is to what you originally assumed. no trophies, or obnoxious posters. a very standard and boring room for someone so rich. 

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “i’ll leave you to rest” he starts to get up and you don’t know what has gotten over you, but the moment you see him shift away, you grasp his wrist urging his attention back on you. 

he stares at you intently, as if he’d listen to the hours of silence you’d make if you chose to. 

under his scrutinising gaze, you can’t help but avert your gaze. “I don't want to spend my birthday alone” you unconsciously mumble and you feel pathetic as you hear the words leave your mouth. 

a raging silence fills the room, and your own anxiety gets the best of you as you loosen your grip around his wrist. 

the moment he longer feels your fingers against him, he reaches for you back which surely catches your attention. 

you never had a real interaction with the boy, especially due to the circumstances you (or him) were put through but your distaste for him wasn't baseless, even if your heart felt different. 

Speaking about heart, it was pounding so loudly against your chest, you could’ve sworn Niki would dance to it. 

“It's your birthday?” he’s grip on your hand is gentle, almost delicate as if you’d crack under the pressure of his touch. you nod softly, not facing him but you can tell what he’s thinking. 

you probably seem more like a loser than you already are, you feel like that at least. 

Riki nods his head, gently as to let your eyes follow enough not to be bothered by such movements. He repositions himself beside his own bed, hand still attached to yours. 

you try everything in your power to ignore his riveting gaze, but the awkwardness is much louder than the silence itself. 

you ponder to yourself, if this birthday was one of your best ones or the worse. you silently compare back to when you were six, and everyone and their friends were there. your parents seemed less concerned with otherworldly matters and you focused on nothing but the people around you. 

That was the last time you felt noticed. 

teenage angst must’ve hit you really early, huh? 

then, back to just 14, where it was yet another year alone, with no one at school knowing who you are (yet because the moment you meet riki everything had a turn for the one worse), your parents at god knows where, living their best business lives, and this is your first time spending your birthday alone (first of a few). 

you think how empty your house was, how dark and voided it felt, feeding into your ever growing reasons to angst. 

and now you think of now, despite being ill with a rising fever, you don’t feel as bad as you did back then. you can’t tell if it’s just your delirious mind putting it’s fair share of delusional thoughts into you, or it’s just because you haven’t had company in so long. but the hand wrapped around yours, and the feeling of someone (even if it’s the ever so terrible niki) next you that made you smile. 

“What are you smiling about? Are you going through shock?” niki’s voice is a mixture of playfulness and concern, because even if the chances of you suddenly falling into a seizure is low, it isn’t zero. 

your eyes trail to him, but not to his eyes, you wouldn’t dare look straight at him. 

“I thought it was going to be another bad birthday” you shrug, and you can’t for the life of you, wipe off your smile, not now because Riki finds it in himself to squeeze your hand. 

you expect another remark, because that’s all your conversations seem to be (from the single one you’ve just had earlier) but nothing of the sort came, instead, from the corner of your eyes, you see him smile. 

the nicest type of smile, with his boxy edges, and eyes squeezing softly. 

if you weren’t looking at him before, you are now. 

“I'm glad” that’s all he says, and your heart clenches at something that isn’t depression and anxiety. 

The overwhelming feeling of awkwardness has long dissipated and has been replaced with something else. 

something new. 

you stare intently into his eyes, moreso, he does and you are compelled to look back. He's searching for something, in the darkness of the room it seems like. 

you can barely make out his features, soft eyes, and sharp jaw. his hair perfectly framing his face, to much of your distaste, and is slightly damp probably from just getting back from wherever he went. 

you wonder what’s going inside that head of his, while staring so intently at you, dissecting every little part of you. does he notice the droop of your eyes, how tired you look, how pale your skin has gotten from days locked in your room, how your cheeks never flushed with life yet was always plush to the touch (probably from all the instant food you’ve consumed)

does he notice the teenage angst you wallow in, him probably going through the same trivial problems as you. 

“Sorry you have to spend your weekend with me” you whisper, thinking about all the other things the “king of dance” could be doing instead of nurturing you back to health. 

He’d probably be out with heeseung or jake at the local gaming cafe, laughing and playing. He was probably on his way there if not for running into you. 

you don’t break eye contact so you see how his eyes double in size, quick to shake his head, your own aching from following his movements. “hey don’t say that” he scolds you, taking his other hand to caress yours. 

How intimate does he get?

your skin burns from his touch, and not because your fever is bordering on 39° C. Your eyes tear away, too much of your brains disliking because, even if you dislike him, he’s very nice to look at. 

“no one deserves to spend their birthday alone” and he may be right, but your own angsty self could beg to differ. 

because with the cards dealt to you, and the way you’ve treated the world (because how it treated you) there’s no doubt there’s a love hate (mostly hate) relationship going on between you and life. 

“Even more, now that you’re sick” he adds on, rubbing circles to the back of your hand and you feel comfort for the first time in a while. 

“i guess even someone who hates me can be nice, huh?” you didn't mean to say that out loud, but your quiet voice is too intertwined with your head voice, mixed with the fact that you’re terribly sick, couldn’t tell the difference. 

he stares at you quizzingly, as if you’ve said something so utterly absurd it’s left him speechless. 

“i don’t hate you” 

those words catch you off guard. because the words “don't” and “hate” have never been uttered on the same line with “you” following after it. 

you stay silent. it’s your birthday so of course he wouldn’t uprightly say it to your face. 

“Do you hate me?”

he asks and you take a moment to ponder, about the strange stairs he’s given you, and the amount of times he’s ignored you piled with how everyone at school seems to stray away from you. 

you only hate him because he hates you 

“i only hated you because you hate me”

niki is left truly speechless (in a metaphorical sense), and his jaw is literally cracked wide. 

“what?!? I don't hate you! god! i could never hate you”

like a cringey teenage cliche, you bite your lip holding back an unwanted grin. 

“don’t say the lord's name in vain” you mutter to make light of the situation. 

not having friends didn't mean you weren’t socially inept. 

Your dry chuckle is the only sound left in the room, other than the pattering of rain. riki can’t help but frown at the news he just heard. 

“i’ve never hated you, not for a second”  he looks at you as if he’s trying to convince you, telling you that all your internalised monologues were for nothing, “i just thought… since you were so stand-off-ish, that you just didn't like me” you shrug, averting from his gaze. 

words pour out of you like vomit and you can no longer keep up your enigmatic cool girl facade, not now that you’re sick. 

“not many people like me, so i assume you hate me jusy as much, and well, if you hated me, i figured i should hate you back” 

and you did, well you tried to at least. but in moments like these; where niki holds your hand as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, where his eyes never leave your lips because he’s so set on remembering every little detail you say, afraid your words will be lost to tone. you can’t help but not hate him at all, noy one bit. 

“how could i hate you when you’re just so perfect” he whispers, almost like a confession. 

actually he did confess. to you. right now. 

you owlishly blink, and suddenly think that your beating heart is more serious than your fever. 

you try to snatch your hand away from him, in embarrassment of him feeling how hot you feel, with the tips of your ears flaming red. 

with your averted gaze, it’s not like you can see that his neck has a creeping speck of hot red as well as his cheeks, ears, and everything on him. 

He's so glad it’s dark right now. 

“you can’t just say that, riki” it’s the first time you’ve said his name. 

his name out of your mouth, your tongue, your lips. 

He wants to hear it again. 

“Why not?” he eggs, leaning closer despite the strange territory they’ve suddenly entered. 

“Some people might get the wrong idea” and by some, you mean yourself because even with the minimal things you know about the boy next to you, your heart is fluttering like crazy it makes you want to vomit.

“But I'm not lying, you’re so perfect” Riki reiterates, “you’re so perfect, i’m afraid to even talk to you, or look at you, even be around you” he rambled at the amount of failed attempts to talk to you, caused by his shyness. 

so… everytime you tried to talk to him, walked near him, caught him staring, it was all because of some silly crush?

and now you feel stupid, ontop of your crippling angst, you’ve failed at teenage romance. 

letting out a frustrating sigh, so heavy you might even blow the poor boy away, you drop down ontop your back and whine. 

he’s shocked for a moment, watching you wail with your hands covering your face. 

he finds you so cute, his stomach might because an olympic gymnast at this point. 

riki crawls closer to you, kneeling onto his knees as he gently pries your hand away from your face. “I feel so stupid” you can’t help but utter, eyes shut to avoid his eyes. 

riki grins, leaning closer (not that you could see), “the smartest girl at school? Feeling stupid? That's a first” he jokes and you unintentionally snort out a laugh, “i’m not the smartest” you instantly shoot back, slowly opening your eyes. 

“oh but you are, you’re smart, and beautiful, and mysterious and witty and-“  you rip your hand from his grip to cover his mouth, any more and your ego will start to inflate and be as big as Sunghoon’s. “aish, stop that 

'' You laugh, and you can hear him giggling along. 

“But why? can’t i tell the girl i like how amazingly perfect she is?”

the girl he likes…

the. 

girl

he

likes

IS YOU?

“you like me…” you gape, maybe you are socially inept, or at least, romantically. 

riki laughs, and a hearty one at that. the type of laugh that comes straight from the stomach. “how could anyone not?” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

like the teenage girl you are, you can’t help but feel bubbly and giddy, like the princess in some lame disney movie being swept off her feet by a guy who’s probably way too old for her (funny seeing that riki’s younger than you). 

Then guilt hits you. as much as you want to revel in this blissful joy, you know nothing about riki, and you spent so long hating on him in your head to suddenly switch up. 

“I know nothing about you though…” you break the news to him, “i mean, we technically just had our first real conversation”. 

riki can’t help but smile, even if he’s just been indirectly rejected, your gentleness in letting him down makes him swoon even more. 

“we can get to know each other then” he declares, smiling down at you. 

“But are you willing to wait?” your eyes fill with anticipation, hoping for the best (it is your birthday after all), and wonder for the first time in forever, smiling from ear to ear.

“for you, i’d wait a thousand years” 

if what he said before wasn't swoon worthy, this definitely was. 

you feel like one of his silly fangirls that wait outside of class, giggling at his stupid smile but this time, you know you’re the cause of it. 

“Are you going to start singing Christina Aguilera now?” you joke, giggling quietly to yourself. “I mean you should, since it’s my birthday after all” oh what a good birthday it was. 

“anything for my birthday girl” Seeing your smile stretch for the first time, he hopes he’d be seeing that everyday in the near future.

Riki looks at you, for what feels like the millionth time. He really looks at you, like he did at school, like he did on the street in the rain, and like he does now. 

and he thinks to himself:

yeah, I can definitely wait.

authors note pt.2: as you can see i write a lot for riki (my bias) mostly because i have so many wips that i s decided to release 🤭 might accept request who knows. also if you have any tips on how to write or do a layout please pm!!!!

[gazeofseer]

What's Wrong ? If it doesn't feel right.

┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛

'Being sad cannot be a problem, but not being able to feel happy again could be, it's okay to have pain it adds up to you as life lived well then restrained but still something, beyond sadness beyond the idea of hurt or harm lies a subtle thought that keeps one awake, alone and anxious even in the room full of your favourite crowd, come sit down and listen to yourself '

Image.1

Overthinking, Dreams, Leader, Sacrifices

┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛

Signs (; Something ruined your day, something you had to think about more then a day, someone left you at the half edge of talk or thought, there is a problem but it cannot be pointed, so it is taking a toll on your mind.

'I see you are trying to remain calm, cooking under stress very well enough to not let anything take entertainment out of you, but it is bothering you somewhat at the end of the day, especially you miss a good sleep, firstly running of coffee feels good but sometimes you look at the cup and wonder about that same thing, is it about an opinion? That you almost heard from two to three people and it is condensed around your head as a confirmation but you are not able to accept it?' I can see so'

You have sacrificed something last year around six months back, and related to that it has been came as a recall a bitter one, so it is making you think again about your decisions and stuff.

You are overthinking because you may be prone to said as made wrong decisions always, but you stand your core of truth knowing it was the only way you had or maybe you could see, you are okay with a wrong way being the way the least as you were not served options but now you are so some people try to make you feel guilty and want you to put up with the same setting so you end up doing the same, it is a pattern and now you see it too.

Image.2

Distant, Unique, Innocent, Love

┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛

Signs : Suddenly you realised it is not the same for me, fate issues where you have faith but not when it comes to yourself, being in connections beyond ships, always feeling more but not emotional, distant, a wall between you and the world.

'You feel crying? But you are not able to because you know it is not as deep as you feel but still thinks you have struck your presence and left in the mid ways, be it people I even see some opportunities, it is like someone playing you and you withdraw and that showed many people's intent towards you it wasn't bad but again it wasn't too good to start causing an effort I think you are really unique, blessed and looked after by the universe where your innocence is always safe and I feel you fight for that too but what makes you feel wronged most of the time is when someone, says to change that or to see it as a fix, or see it as a problem and to stand under greys if you cannot be extreme or too numb is why you might even felt days passing on without any interactions I see your isolation as a choice and it feels healthy even if it is boring and sometimes makes you feel sad but you know it is what could be best for you'

Image.3

Grateful, Happy, Worried, Tensed

┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛

Signs : You have seen life at it's worst, being alone being broke in every possible way, being walking on thin ices and fire bruises you have seen salts of life that tasting sugar makes you worried of being poisoned, betrayed, or just another pain that awaits.

'You are not overthinking you are grateful by actions but whenever you talk you do dodge your past into some sarcasm and make it like you made through it and unlike a boast it shows how painful things have been for you, even your friends might roll eyes on this, I can understand constant sorrow can make you see the world as offence that you have to defend yourself at all the way even in place and with people who are not the same, I see you do have formed new connections and people are quite warna dn welcoming around you, the golden color, delightful evenings, but you just fake smile and pretend to be happy while being worried that one day this will betray you too, every happiness served will turn sour, but Trust me dear it is not going to be the same, it is just you need slowly accept this change and allow yourself to attain it slowly stand in your reality then in your head, instead of fake smiles, actually sit and let that smile take place on its own even if it is overwhelming and gratitude let it come and let it embrace you'.

Note with Love 💌 : I hope this really makes you remind, if either of readings have not resonated know that life is not definite seeing it as a word or thought, opinion or even for day would be so unfair so take time, your time is your life itself take it in as much as you take it out.

[moldycantaloupe]

Mushy May Day 16

(bonus prompt 10) "shut up i'm taking care of you"

Cw's: mental health problems. isolation, self deprecation, issues eating, non-sexual nudity (showering together). but it is a mushy prompts list, so all ends well!

notes; this one was like a mind flayer and took control over my hands and suddenly there 1,2k words of hurt/comfort, my fave. thanks as always to @forlorn-crows for putting together the prompts!

Rain didn’t… know what happened. The day before, everything was fine. Normal even. They ate their dinner with the pack, played on their acoustic with Dew, and then went to bed. It was an easy, simple night. They laid in their bed, exhaustion heavy in their muscles, but their mind raced.

They knew they were okay. Logically they knew the pack cared so deeply about them. Logic, unfortunately, was not winning the battle tonight. They felt the first round of tears sting and scrubbed viciously at their eyes, their breathing shaky. Their mind screamed at them to hide away, isolate from their pack until they were nothing more than a nameless ghoul. No one would notice, they figured. 

But, logically, everyone would notice. They knew logically. 

It started with a quiet knock in the morning. A little later than when they usually woke up, but a sleepless night forced the exhaustion to seep further down into their bones. The knock wasn’t persistent, just someone coming to wake them up for breakfast. Judging from the footfall after they knocked, it was most likely either Aurora or Cirrus. Rain opted with Cirrus.

Twenty minutes went by before the next round of knocking started, followed by Aether’s soft voice. He mentioned that they left a plate for them in the oven, and that he was there for them if they wanted to talk. That they all were. They curled into themselves further, throwing the blanket over their eyes to hide even farther. Had they really done this so much that the pack knew their patterns? It hadn’t even been an hour and already they were being a nuisance to their pack. 

The day wasted away. They only got up to use the bathroom before crawling back to their bed. The bedding felt heavy against their skin, the pillow somehow greasy, but it was all they had in the moment. It felt like they were in fight or flight, and their body and mind couldn’t pick an option. 

A few others came by throughout the morning and into the afternoon. Most would knock, call out, and then leave when they got no response. They heard Phantom walk by at some point, and the young quint didn’t knock nor call out. Rain thought they had left quietly before they quietly sighed, just barely loud enough that Rain could hear, before finally walking away. They felt a fresh batch of tears well in their eyes at the disappointment obvious in the quint.

It was nearing the evening of the day. Rain stayed in their fetal position most of the day, their body aching in ways that were comforting but ultimately awful. They felt cold, a type that couldn’t be fixed with blankets. Their stomach groaned in need of food but they felt nauseous at the thought of eating or drinking anything. They had flitted in and out of sleep for most of the day, but the exhaustion made its way down through their bones and into their core. 

They were woken up from their nth nap of the day by the doorknob turning and the door opening. They smelt before they heard Mountain enter, the earthy smell of sage and rosemary flooding their room. They held their breath and kept their body stone still, scared of what he was here to do. They felt guilt immediately for assuming the worst in the gentle giant, but kept still. 

Instead of anything malicious, he sat down at the end of the bed and placed his hand against their calf. He messaged at the skin. It was so warm. Their eyes stared directly ahead of them to the blank wall, not daring to look at him.

“Rain,” he quietly called out. They didn’t respond. 

He sighed and took his hand away to stand. They violently flinched when he scooped his arms under them and picked them up bridal style. They shut their eyes tight.

“We’re going to wash up,” Mountain pulled the mounds of blankets off and away from them, the dull thud as they fell sharp against their ears, “and then try and get some food into you. Does that sound good, starfish?” 

Rain kept their eyes shut. Mountain took it as a yes and walked towards the bathroom. 

He sat them on the toilet and they slouched heavily until their head hit his stomach. He twisted to turn the water on before he focused his attention back towards them. With a bit of maneuvering, the two managed to get their clothes off, Rain being very little help. Mountain said nothing as he lowered Rain onto their shower seat, the spray of the water forcing a heavy sigh out of them. He shucked his shirt to the ground and stepped in himself, just to the side of them. They hesitated every movement as he helped get them clean; fingers twitching when he asked for them to lift their arm, head locked in place when he pointed the sprayer towards their hair. Everything built up higher and higher in their small body until it came crumbling down when he massaged the shampoo into their curls, his blunt fingers rubbing soothing circles into their scalp. Their face, deadpan and void of emotion before, broke into a deep frown as the tears that teased them all day finally fell down their face, an ugly sob coming deep from their chest. They held their head in their hands while Mountain continued to lather the soap through their hair. They leaned into his touch, suds spreading to his abdomen. He kicked up a purr that vibrated through their ears to their brain. They sobbed harder, loud whines and hiccups and guttural cries.

“I’m-” they sucked in a harsh breath, “I’m sor- sorry-”

“None of that,” Mountain spoke softly but firm, voice unwavering. 

“I was being- being so selfish.” They argued. 

He shook his head. “It happens, starfish.”

“And now I’m f-forcing you to deal with me-” they were interrupted by him leaning down, just enough for them to see him through tears, and his smile was so gentle, so caring. So genuine. It made them fall harder into him.

“None of that.” Mountain stood back up and leaned over to grab the spray. They let his firm hand tip their head back as he began washing the suds out of their hair. “I’m taking care of you.”

The rest of the shower consisted of Mountain rubbing conditioner through their hair as their sobbing died down into something quiet. He helped them dry off and put into clean clothing, boxers and a shirt that was definitely not theirs. He opened the bathroom door and their nose twitched. It led them to their nightstand, where a bowl of oatmeal sat. Mountain sat them on their bed, the covers and pillows no longer feeling heavy but warm and comfortable, and crawled in himself. He whispered kind words as they carefully ate, the bowl warm against their thighs. They set the bowl back down after a few bites, stomach still upset from their mental turmoil of the day. Mountain didn’t complain, though. He praised them as he tucked the two of them in.

Rain hid themselves away into his chest, arms cautiously wrapped around his waist. He purred loud enough for the next room over to hear. They rubbed their head against him in an attempt to scent him, his scent lulling them into a soft mindset and heavy eyes.

“Mount,” they slurred into his skin. He hummed in question.

“Thank you.” 

He shifted a hand to their still damp hair and began scratching at their horns. They began to purr as well. 

[darsynia]

Dragonfly (Steve/Reader fantasy AU)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary:  Evil has prevailed. Your mentor’s dead, home destroyed, family scattered--you’re all that is left. At the last second, a stranger is called by magic to save your life. Can the two of you defeat the villain before he reaches the pinnacle of power?

Words/Warnings: 4,700 | canon-typical violence

draGONfly is 3/7 of my birthday gift set for @ronearoundblindly and is an action/adventure, angst with a happy ending story set after the blip. I know right now is a hugely busy week for you, Ro, and there's no pressure to respond right now, they'll all be here when you have time!

NOTE: it's MCU Steve in here! 'Worlds Collide'

Excerpt:

“You’re afraid,” Steve says from only feet away.

You close your eyes. “Yes.”

“Sometimes fear is a friend. It was definitely that in the army. Kept us sharp. You could tell when a soldier lost his fear because he was suddenly very brave. Problem was, we needed the brave ones sometimes.” 

He falls silent, and you can’t help but look at him. The bleak look in his eyes is clear, despite the distance between you, and in that moment you decide to trust him. If he’s another monster construct, if Micht can understand you that well, then the villain deserves the win, and all is lost.

Dragonfly

You’ve been on the run for ten days, with no safe haven to look forward to. The magic hunting you is relentless, fueled by hatred of your now-dead mentor and everything the two of you stood for. Your only reprieve is sleep; your enemy wants to witness the horror on your face in your moment of death.

All you can do is forge a path deeper into the forest, away from any innocent who could be harmed by Jovann Micht’s conjured creatures. As if watching Bram die hadn’t been torture enough, it seems you’re destined to die in the wilderness, alone.

You lean back on a tree and risk a pause to drink from your flask. Deep inside you feel your magic tremble; rest, food, and hydration is needed to stay powerful, but that is the point of Micht’s pursuit. Eventually you’ll falter, and he’ll achieve the last of his goals.

Does he know you bear the vial of his destruction? Those few teaspoonfuls are a potent culmination of your mentor’s study of the arcane, a life’s work of gathering and refining the most dangerous, mystical ingredients and combining them to make a weapon. You’d been able to see just two of the substances interact before being sealed into the final mixture, and the light they’d emitted had lingered in your vision for almost an hour afterwards.

There are three ways this can end: ideally, you’ll pour the vial into the glacial source of the valley’s drinking water and let the power propagate amongst the population Jovann Micht means to control. If that fails, you might be forced to break the vial with your dying strength, spilling its beautiful potential into the ground rather than empower one of Micht’s monsters-- or Micht himself.

The worst, most horrible option is for you to drink it yourself and spend the rest of your life battling to control the power Bram Ersk warned you about.

Heavy buzzing nearby sends your adrenaline racing, but it’s only a dragonfly angling its way past you toward the stream you've been following up to the mountains. They’re your favorite insect, brightly colored and free, with wide wings that decorate tree branches too delicate for a human’s weight.

You tuck away your canteen and check to see that your weapons are ready. The bow and arrows had only served to slow you down, so you’d sent them towards the plains with a burst of precious magic, a misdirection that hadn’t worked. Bram’s sword is cumbersome but necessary, and the daggers scattered through your clothing are a last resort.

Seconds later your preparedness pays off. The barest rustling of the leaves above your head has you crouching down with one leg stretched out for leverage if you need to run. You draw a dagger from its sheath at your back and watch in fascinated horror as your newest attacker reveals itself.

It’s a huge snake, fast and menacing. It strikes out and you dodge sideways, performing a half-roll to distance yourself, dagger still at the ready. Smoke rises from a splash of venom on your padded trousers, and a stab of fear strikes your gut. The snake can spit, likely with magic-enhanced distance. Is this how you finally die? Worn down with nowhere to hide from this acid toxin, then slain once exhaustion drops you?

You curl into a protective stance and tighten your grip on the dagger, drawing the creature in. Once it’s close, you spin up from the ground in a flurry of slashing blades. One dagger connects, but it’s glancing, enough to send the snake into retreat, but not enough to kill.

That only makes things worse. Your field of danger has increased to include the entire forest canopy.

There may only be a few minutes before the next showdown. You wipe your dagger on the nearby moss and place it back in its sheath for now. The forest around you is new growth, full of brambles and other scutgrass that tear at your armor, with a hundred branches arching over your head. You fight your way through to the stream with fear choking your throat, worried that you’ll have to expend more of your depleted magical energy to save yourself. If you need to use magic to survive his enchanted attackers from this point on, there won't be anything left. 

You’ve kept that power in reserve for some kind of final showdown, but there's at least a day left before you get where you're going.

Despair hits, and you scrabble at your neck, suddenly furious at the friend and mentor whose plans have brought you to such misery. The locket he’d given you has always been a talisman, a symbol of hope, but now you look at its silver concentric circles and feel nothing but betrayal.

Movement catches your eye, and you swing out blindly, the locket flying from your grip. As it spins, a blinding golden light spills out, growing larger and brighter until finally a figure steps forth--just as Micht’s devil-snake launches directly at you.

“Down!” a voice commands, and you drop, watching in shock as the glowing figure hurls a disk through the magical snake. The horrid thing lands in pieces that immediately shrivel and writhe. They melt into the ground, leaving only a low-lying, putrid fog behind.

The man stalks towards you, still obscured by the now-fading golden light. Instead of finishing you off, he strides past and pulls his disc-- his shield-- free from the tree it had sliced into. When he turns back your way, the man tucks something into a pouch on his chest, and the glowing light diminishes enough to see him. He looks you over, brows furrowed not in anger, but obvious confusion.

“Are you all right?”

“Thank you,” you say, struck near-dumb by the imposing presence of the man. He’s tall and broad, handsomely clad in padded armor with leather accents, but it’s his shield that has your attention. Its concentric circles and inner star look just like Bram’s locket, but in color.

He seems self-conscious about it, spinning the shield around and attaching it to his armor at his back. “Was that-- did I interrupt some kind of re-enactment?” your savior asks, curiously examining the last remnants of the toxic fog. He turns to look at you with the same studious intensity, but your head is spinning. Did Bram conjure this man with some sort of latent magic? “You should sit down,” he declares, thrusting out his hand with the confidence of a commander. The man clearly wants you to take it, but your hesitation prompts him to give up and walk over to a cluster of rocks. “Here. Do you have something to eat?”

Bemused, you pick your way toward him, deflecting your ‘I usually have to forage for something to eat’ answer with a question of your own. “What’s your name, hero?”

The word turns up a shy little smile that flies like a joy-tipped arrow right through your chest armor. “Steve. Yours?”

“Well, Steve, you’ve shown up for a battle, but I’m still fighting a war.” There’s no more time for niceties. You walk past the rocks he’d suggested you rest on, and pick up a sturdy-looking walking stick. It’s safer to stay close to the stream, and you’ll need the stability. “You’re welcome to come?”

There’s a chance that this summoned savior will disappear soon. You only have so much physical strength left, and you can’t spend it like this.

Steve turns in a circle, taking in the trees, the stream, and you, then nods, squaring his shoulders. “All right.” He certainly doesn’t seem at ease here, and you wonder if he’s real, whether he was somewhere fighting with that shield of his before Bram’s magic plucked him away.

Truthfully, you’re afraid to ask, as if naming the magic will destroy its cohesion.

Instead you lead the way along the uneven stones and brush that edge the stream, and he follows in clearly baffled silence. Sometimes you pause to adjust your armor or fill up your canteen and catch his brow furrow as he looks around at your surroundings. Once, he lunged forward to steady your steps on a slippery stretch of rocks. The warmth of his hand through your many layers was enough to bring rare tears to your eyes.

It's been so long since you’ve been touched in comfort.

Steve sees the tears but can’t know their context. You’re not willing to tell him, so you speed your pace, and he remains silent. If he’s been summoned as support, you question what triggers the magic might use to determine you’re no longer in need. If it’s words shared, you’ll hold yours in reserve. If it’s help provided, you’ll labor beside him with every ounce of your remaining strength until you finally ask for that help. If it’s distance traveled… well, you can’t think about that now.

Countless birdcalls and shared silence later, the landscape starts angling up more, and the trees thin out.

“Oh,” Steve says. His stunned tone makes you stop and look back at him. “I came to the forest--a forest to retrace my steps, looking for the echoes of what we lost. I didn’t want to. I didn’t know what I’d do if I found that the dust of my lost friends had fertilized plants that their shadows never--” he faltered, and you make your way to him, powerless to help, desperate to try. 

You recognize this grief. It's the hopeless kind, where a person just stands desolate in the aftermath and looks for the signs of their own death.

“Steve--” 

“It’s not the same forest,” he interrupts, a catch in his voice. “That’s a mountain.” He tears his eyes from the now-revealed peak in the distance and looks at you, concern and an odd sort of exhilaration in his eyes. “I kept walking because I thought we’d eventually get where you’re going, but we won’t, will we? Not today. Where am I? When am I?”

“‘When’ is easy: my waking nightmare. ‘Where’ is tricky. Who’s to know you won’t be pulled back where you came from if I tell you?” You can’t keep the bitter fear from your voice.

Steve steps forward to look down at you with gentle kindness. He’s so handsome you can’t help but feel self-conscious, clad as you are in shapeless armor, sweating with the exertion of carrying Bram’s sword (actually heavy) and Bram’s vial (metaphorically heavy)-- but you drift closer to your unexpected savior, catching the earthy scent of his sweat. You can see the sheen of it on his forehead, and you lift your hand to draw a finger across and feel the moisture of it.

“You’re real,” you breathe, surprised despite the snake, despite his steady presence behind you for this stretch of your journey.

He moves his hand to touch the drops of freshwater that have spilled from your canteen, going as far as to taste the tip of his finger. “So are you.” As though realizing that’s an intimacy the two of you haven’t agreed on, he steps back and squares his shoulders, the picture of a warrior again, despite his lack of weapon. Perhaps he is the weapon. “So what’s the plan? Camp for the night?”

You sway on your feet at the thought (both that he’d put aside his own situation and at the idea of rest), but shake your head. “Micht will send something else soon. I must reach the base of the stream. Everything relies on that.”

He looks askance at the darkening sky, then back at you. “What would make you willing to camp?”

A promise that you won’t leave me! you scream in your mind. A look of determination crosses his face, and you realize you may not have spoken the words aloud, but your body language has done that for you. You pull in a breath to prevaricate, but he brushes past you, headed into the forest.

“There’s a clearing,” he calls out, a minute later.

“Steve, I can’t--”

“You can.”

A terrible, insidious, horrid thought crosses your mind: that Steve is not from Bram at all, but an illusion with the same purpose as all the others that Jovann Micht has sent you. That his attack is formed from trust this time, rather than fear.

The shape of Bram’s locket is the only thing you can think of to refute your fears, but couldn’t Micht have torn that knowledge from Bram before killing him?

“You’re afraid,” Steve says from only feet away.

You close your eyes. “Yes.”

“Sometimes fear is a friend. It was definitely that in the army. Kept us sharp. You could tell when a soldier lost his fear because he was suddenly very brave. Problem was, we needed the brave ones sometimes.” 

He falls silent, and you can’t help but look at him. The bleak look in his eyes is clear, despite the distance between you, and in that moment you decide to trust him. If he’s another monster construct, if Micht can understand you that well, then the villain deserves the win, and all is lost.

Steve can hold a lot of supplies in his ‘tek’ suit, as he calls it. He gives you a few dense grain bread things, full of dried fruit and nuts that revitalize you. While you eat he lights a fire for the two of you, meaning you can save your newly bolstered energy rather than using it for warmth-- and best of all, he has a strange silver blanket that seems to hold heat so much better than anything you’ve used at night, even the homemade blankets from your cabin. Despite all this, you find it hard to relax, and Steve can tell. You are reluctant to explain and thus relive the trauma that sent you into the forest, and he doesn’t elaborate on his own.

He seems surprised when you want to sleep right away. That surprise morphs to a quiet, concerned anger when you explain the thin agreement you have with your aggressor, that he’ll only kill you when you’re awake.

“That won’t happen,” he declares, and you believe him. Just like a parent who promises they’ll always protect you, his words have an unspoken caveat; ‘for as long as I’m here to stop it.’

It’s enough.

You wake with the light, finding to your surprise that Steve has slept at your side, his broad back acting as a wall between you and the dangers of the woods. It’s been a week since you’ve been able to lay still in the morning, but your respite is marred by a large worry: why hasn’t Micht sent something else? Had he sent his most fearsome conjurations early on in your journey because you’d been stronger? It would be like him to conserve his energy and insult you at the same time. If you die to something more mundane, that would just add to his narrative, after all. The alternative is that he knows about Steve, and his new plan is to create something fearsome enough to destroy them both.

“You’re barely breathing,” Steve rumbles.

Selfishly, you want him to turn over. You want a memory to cherish when he’s gone. Just once, you'd had someone lying beside you whose sole purpose was to ensure your safety.

He does roll over. He’s no less real for it, and that thought lets you release everything you’d held back since Bram, since the village, since the slain, tortured lamb that was the harbinger of all the horrors that followed.

Wordlessly, Steve pulls you to his chest and lets you cry.

The next attack comes within sight of the glacial moraine. You were right. Micht had sent his worst to finish you. 

Steve pulls his shield from his back as soon as you pass through a group of boulders and see the creature. It’s twice as tall as he is, a four-legged monstrosity with the same number of snarling heads. Each serpent-like head is riddled with teeth, and like snakes, they bob and weave easily, able to turn and react with lightning swiftness.

“Your sword, please,” Steve says grimly.

“It’s armored--”

“So am I.”

Adrenaline mixes with the magic surging inside you. “Listen. I have a thing to do. It’s all that matters,” you tell him breathlessly. “After that, I don’t care what happens. Do you hear me?”

He’s looking at the creature, and you can see his soldier’s mind. You watch the fear dwindle, replaced by bravery, and you cannot let that happen.

“Steve!” you beg-- and he looks at you, still alert and ready to fight. “This was always going to end one way, okay? I just need you to--” The thing screeches with many voices, each wielding a knife that slices away some of your resolve.

You swallow hard and start taking off any extra weight, dropping your canteen, the sheathed dagger at your back, even the heavy brigandine leather that covers your blouse. It isn’t a match for a hydra’s teeth and claws anyway, and you must be fast.  

“I need to get to the base of the stream. That monster is here to stop me.” It probably isn’t. If Micht knew you bear this potion, he’d have long ago crushed you into paste and taken it for himself. “Don’t you dare lose your fear!”

Steve laughs ruefully. “I wondered if you would remember that.”

“Something sent you to me, and this is why. If there’s any justice, it should send you back, once I succeed.” The words stick in your throat, but you get them out.

“It’s a hydra,” Steve says with a hatred in his voice you didn’t think he was capable of. “I was created for this.”

You both turn to face the horrible creature. Steve lifts the sword and you ready yourself to run.

“Wait,” Steve says, a manic happiness in his eyes. He steps close and dips his head, kissing you. It’s awkward, with the sword and shield held wide at his sides, but that just makes it more real. “Go get him.”

Then he charges toward the beast.

You’d planned to wait until the two were fully focused on each other, but every fragment of magic in your body is screaming for you to help Steve. You tamp that down and hold still, certain that the hydra will only focus on Steve if bloodlust blinds it to your existence.

That’s even harder when there are multiple sets of eyes to look for you.

Steve makes first contact, roaring up and smashing his shield against the first head that lunges toward him. The thing reels back in obvious surprise, the injured head lolling to the side. The other heads rear up, and you take the moment to run far to the side, sticking to the treeline, even though it means farther to run. You weave between trees, catching glimpses of the battle but always hearing it. Screech follows screech follows the smash of metal against armored skin, over and over and over.

Just as you’re forced to cross into the rockfield, the hydra lets out an agonized scream, and you risk a look over. Steve’s holding his shield protectively above himself as he hacks at the two heads he’d sliced from the hydra. He’s panting from exertion, and as you watch, magic bubbles at the sliced necks, growing two new snarling heads from each stump. They sink down to the body of the beast and then stretch back out as individual, fully-realized necks right in front of your eyes.

You can’t send any power to Steve, not yet. Instead, you send it to your own legs, and the burst of resulting speed tears through the remaining distance. You reach into your shirt--

“You could have given it to me right away, foolish child.”

“Liar!” you spit at your enemy, furious and fragile. “You wanted this.” Of course he’d known. Micht had always loved theatrics.

“You’re right. That’s quite a guardian you’ve found for yourself,” Jovann Micht muses, leaning casually back against a large boulder. He’s standing between you and the stream.

You’re done with this. One way or another.

“Move.”

“I don’t think so.” He moves towards you, confident, commanding. “Hand it over.”

Behind you, the screeching gets louder, and oddly, Micht stumbles sideways, hissing. You risk a look over your shoulder and see that Steve’s sliced off more of the creature-- a leg this time. It brings the deadly heads closer to him, and you can’t watch.

Micht has conjured a walking stick that he’s now leaning on with a vicious look of delight on his face. “I prefer an intelligent adversary.”

He doesn’t mean you.

He’s always underestimated you. Everyone does.

Your fingers close around a vial, and you pull it free. It’s been shaken up by your headlong run, as evidenced by the blue glowing light.

“If you want this, you have to catch me.”

Your burst of speed still sings in your veins, and you start to run-- toward the hydra, not the stream. Gathering up all of your magic, you hurl it toward the back legs of the hydra, meaning to destroy them and hopefully disable Micht, if your hunch about the connection between them is correct.

The fireball hits home. The ground shakes as the terrible beast falls sideways, all seven heads turning to assess the damage. One catches fire, its agonized scream piercing your ears even at this distance. You can’t see Steve, but the desperate flailing of the inflamed head soon spreads the fire. 

You hook around, satisfied. Micht is in a heap not far from where you’d left him, recognizable by his signature blood-red suit. All that’s left is to get as close to the headwaters as you can. Bram had confided in you about the rip current that swirls right at its base, sucking the water down into a secondary stream that he’d helped the village tap into.

It serves as the drinking water for the whole valley, surfacing down past your former home and bubbling down to the sea, or so it’s said.

If you can get even half of Bram’s concoction into there--

A powerful blow knocks you to your feet, and you lose your grip on the vial. Dazed, you struggle to your knees, watching as a hand curls around the vial.

Get up! You have to be convincing! UP!

You’re unsteady as hell, but you lean into that, begging with a suddenly raw throat for Micht to stop. Your magic is almost gone again, but you grit your teeth and start for the vial. Behind it is your goal, the origin of the stream. Just ten strides, and he’ll think you’re giving up and throwing yourself in instead. Eight strides…

A rough hand curls around your neck and pulls the true vial from your bodice before shoving you to the ground.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” Steve roars. Through tears, you can see him running toward the two of you. He swings his arm, releasing his shield. 

Micht stands triumphant with the vial, unstoppering it in preparation to drink. It’s all of your worst fears realized, and the moment seems to hang in time, more misery for you to experience right before he kills you face to face, just as he’s always wanted.

Steve’s shield smashes into Micht’s midsection, knocking him backwards. The vial flies up, its contents fanning out in a glowing blue rain over Jovann Micht. Everywhere it lands, white lightning and red flames erupt. He’s screaming, you’re screaming, thunder and agony crashes all around you, until finally, he’s gone.

The silence is oppressive. It’s as though your blood’s stopped pumping, the air’s trapped in your lungs, and your muscles are frozen solid. The pressure builds until Steve stabs the bloody sword into the ground beside you and slumps over to rest his hands on his knees.

“We won.”

Your body's working again, but you don’t know whether to feel happiness or horror. “Yeah.”

Both of you are exhausted, the kind of bone-weary that isn’t possible without having experienced something unspeakable. The smell of burnt hydra is horrendous though, so Steve pushes to get as far away as you can before collapsing beside the placid stream. You let your hands dangle in the frigid glacial meltwater, needing to feel something bad that isn’t horrible.

“Don’t fall in. I’m too wiped to go back for the rest of your armor, and that’s a white shirt.”

He’s speaking in riddles, and honestly it's the first regular thing Steve’s said to you since… all of that. “What?”

“The water makes it transpar-- Never mind.” Embarrassment drips from his words, and it’s enough to make you scooch around so you can see him.

Steve’s black armor hides most of the blood, but he’s almost drenched in it. He’s got his legs stretched out in front of him, and he’s wrapping a once-pristine white bandage around a gash on his leg, pausing every few revolutions to rest. Noticing your scrutiny, he offers you a weak smile.

“That fireball was something.”

“So’s your swordsmanship.” You search your resources and make a decision. “Want me to heal that?”

“What?” he says, then laughs, the sound genuinely joyful, though astonished. “I just fought a real hydra. Did you know that’s the second bad guy that’s disintegrated right in front of me? Of course you can heal. This place is… this place is something.”

His voice breaks on ‘something.’ You don’t know him very well, but the trauma you’ve shared tells you he needs a moment. Avoiding eye contact, you reach out, sending your magic in a gentle golden trickle across the ground between you. It slides smoothly over his boots and up the fabric of his trousers, finally sinking into his wound. You send a little extra, too, even though it makes your chest ache with warning. It’ll soothe his mind, and that’s worth it.

That done, you turn back to the water, staring past your fractured reflection into the stream’s shallow depths. Across the stretch of rocks and bubbling froth a dragonfly twists and dips, reacting to shifts in the air too subtle for you to notice. It’s a reminder that not everything’s been affected by the life or death struggle you’d just experienced. It helps, so much so that you don’t notice that Steve’s come to sit beside you until he speaks.

“Did you know that dragonflies are a symbol of grief and rebirth?” He doesn’t wait for your answer. “Part of their life cycle is underwater, I guess, and the story goes that each one reaches a point where they need to surface. They each promise they’ll come back and tell the others what they find up there, but--”

“--but they can’t. They’re trapped either side,” you breathe.

“Trapped, yeah, but not dead.” The word is ragged, and you look up at him, even though it hurts your neck. “I lost friends in my forest. They turned to dust. We lost.”

Your hand is freezing, but his armor is thick. You reach out and squeeze his leg, and Steve stays still, clearly moved to quiet reflection.

“There’s a second life, is the moral. I don’t know if this is mine, but I wouldn’t mind if it was.”

You don’t dare hope, but you pour yes please into your expression. He smiles and pats his chest.

“There’s a pocket here. When I first showed up, you threw a locket--” he shakes his head curtly, enough to stop you from speaking. “I only caught a glimpse, but it looks like my shield.”

You squeeze his ankle, and determination hardens his expression.

“I think you might-- I think this place might need me. Do you have enough magic to, I don’t know… freeze it? Put it in stasis so it doesn’t send me back? I know just where I’d like to put it.”

You feel brave, but it’s not due to a lack of hope this time. This time, you have an abundance of hope.

“I’d like that very much.”

[lenaellsi]

i've mentioned this before and it's a Hot Take maybe but. i don't think it's fair at all to characterize crowley's "you and me, what do you say?" speech from s2 as being equivalent to "fuck the earth run away with me to the stars right now" a la season 1

i guess i can see why it might come off that way, with gabriel and beelzebub having just left and crowley drawing the comparison to them, but a lot of people have sort of extrapolated from that this dichotomy where suddenly aziraphale is the one who cares about saving the world and crowley only cares about himself and aziraphale. and while i think crowley certainly prioritizes their mutual safety and is more likely to get spooked when faced with threats from heaven (i wonder why) crowley also loves earth?? he talks about it all the time.

the last time there was an apocalypse, crowley was the one who proposed saving the world, and he had to talk aziraphale into it. and like...he was planning breakfast at the ritz, wasn't he? he didn't want to leave. obviously "you can't leave this bookshop" meant "you can't leave me," but it also LITTLE bit meant the bookshop, and earth.

the circumstances of s1 were very different than the end of s2. crowley only wanted to run in s1 when 1) the end was about 4 hours away, 2) from his POV he and aziraphale had no idea where the antichrist was, so they wouldn't be able to stop anything even if they did stay to die with the humans, 3) aziraphale was about to Talk To Heaven the same way crowley tried to before the Fall, 4) demons were actively pursuing him for purposes of torture and annihilation. and in the end, he STILL stayed.

idk. if we're going to give aziraphale the benefit of the doubt for the Many Things he said in that convo, then i think we can afford to give crowley the benefit of the doubt that "we need to get away from them" and "go off together" might mean something more along the lines of "please don't go back to heaven, stay with me, it can be the two of us against them all." THAT was what crowley's emotional arc this season was leading to, with the flashbacks and his big revelation in ep 5, the same way aziraphale's was leading to leaving. every single one of the flashbacks had crowley choosing to help someone else at great personal risk--why would that lead to the conclusion that he actually wants to leave without trying to help? (of course, he did want to abandon gabriel. but I don't think that was even a little bit irrational after aziraphale's failed execution. walking away from the heavenly host who has done nothing but hurt both of them is not the same as walking away from earth. it's still a problem--ignoring heaven and hell will not, ultimately, fix anything--but again, it's not the same as abandoning humanity on a whim.)

TL;DR I don't think it's a fair reading to say that crowley's proposed solution to The Heaven And Hell Problem is "fuck humanity, let's give up." i think he was proposing working together against heaven and hell with the option of an exit strategy if everything went wrong, which is what he ALWAYS tries to do. (see: arrangement + holy water.) his need for an escape route and his tendency to prepare for the worst is something that is definitely hindering him in, for example, his relationship with aziraphale, but it also makes sense. because, you know. the last time he tried doing anything about heaven he got his wings lit on fire. so.

[savannahsdeath]

THE LOOP ENDING

knight!ellie x princess!reader

read the first chapter; here

warnings: mentions of forced marriage, readers mom is a really bad person, nightmare, blood, death of an animal, public execution, runaway.. lmk if i missed anything !!

writers note: ellie is so silly i want to keep her in my pocket .

you woke up with a gasp, sitting up and propping yourself on your weak, shaking arms without even realizing it. you felt an uncomfortably slippery texture under your hands - your pillow soaked with sweat and tears which you unconsciously shed during your dream nightmare. and though sweat usually connects with heat, your trembling body was the complete opposite - you felt like a cube of ice, even with the covers hugging you.

and yet, there was some sort of a warm sensation that calmed you down.

"i'm here, your highness." a voice whispered, and you started to realize you're not alone.

indeed, the mattress was slightly dented on your left side, as if someone's weight pressed it down. you rubbed your eyes and catched your breath, tilting your head to face ellie.

you let out a dry sob and wrapped your hands around her, making sure your embrace isn't leaky, and she won't somehow slip out between your arms. you were sure it wasn't a hallucination as you felt her firm hands on the back of your head.

"another nightmare, huh?" she smiled against your neck, but you could guess how concerned she really was. "what did your mother do this time?"

you sighed but forced a weak smile on your own, tired face. "you have no idea." you shook your head, nuzzling your face in her shoulder.

"this woman is going to be the death of me." she chuckled and you noticed how raspy her voice was. she probably didn't sleep at all, knowing what awaits her— what awaits you both this night.

and you— you just broke down crying at her words. she was so right and she didn't even realize it.

no matter how bad you felt in this right moment, you had to do something. you couldn't wait.

"what time is it?" you asked, but you got cut off by some of your sudden sobs and sniffles.

"a good few hours passed since we came back from the garden. four, maybe five." she shrugged, stroking your hair.

so you were in the backyard with her. you watched the stars together and you— you shared a kiss. the rest of the week was just a dream. how is it possible?

"ellie..." you wiped your tears away, your sadness disappearing and getting replaced by confusion. "do you know anyone named luccy?"

"luccy?" her hand, which caressed your head, suddenly stopped in it's track. "how do you know about her?"

you let go of her, pulling away so you could see her worried expression. "she was in my dream." you explained. "she helped us."

us. because even if she tried to save ellie, she also relieved you. you'll never forget what the letter said, "my friend took care of me". somewhere, in the worst, most brutal universe, luccy was the savior for both of you.

"well, what was your dream about?" she murmured, nervously clearing her throat. she seemed to know it wasn't anything good, and the fact her friend was in it made it feel so real, so... prophetic.

"i—" you parted your mouth, but your voice slowly drifted off. you wondered when did it start. when did everything go downhill...

you figured out it may be your reckless ranting on the weddings day.

"it's one of the knights." you really weren't controlling the words coming out of your mouth and that could only mean one thing - problems. "ellie."

right, it must be it. what were you even thinking?

after a second you realized ellie would live if she didn't interrupt the ceremony. that's when it really happened.

but then again, maybe she'd survive if she picked a different hiding? maybe just luccy's house wasn't safe?

you got lost in the options. everything could lead to this tragedy. every little mistake. at this point, you didn't have any choices. only one thing could stop this — making sure the wedding won't happen at all. as long as you were married, you couldn't achieve a happy ending. it was simply not possible.

when you came to your senses, with a light jolt of your whole body, ellie's hands were resting on your shoulders.

"i'm sorry—" you mumbled. "i was... thinking."

a ray of sunlight was shining through the blinds, irritating your sleepy eyes. your knight leaned in, covering it and making you disappear in the darkness again. her hands cupped your chin and her thumb traced your bottom lip.

"something's wrong, isn't it?" she sighed, knitting her eyebrows together.

"yes." you lightly nodded, not wanting your movement to cause in her comforting touch leaving your face. "i won't let anything happen to you."

she chuckled, pressing her lips to your forehead for a few long seconds. "i'll be fine."

she's won't. not if everything comes out as in your nightmare. and you knew how easy it was to fail - everything can lead to an unstoppable situation. you got a second chance, you could fix everything. you won't get stuck in this miserable loop.

"no—" you shook your head, weakly repeating; "no, no... we should pack our things and—"

"and what, your highness?" she smiled, as if she didn't take you seriously, but you knew that's not true. she knows she's in danger. she has to know, she has to realize that. "we have nowhere to go."

you pulled away from her and fell on the bed, making it look like you were throwing a tantrum, what had some truth in it. you really were mad, not angry, but a little mad... how could she be so unfazed? did she not understand?

and then again, she was right. you wouldn't survive in the forest, probably not even in your poor town. you were really independent, as for a princess, but you were too used to living in luxury. only one thing came to your mind, and somehow, it made sense. "we have luccy on our side."

her pearly whites disappeared under her chapped lips, though the corners of her mouth were still slightly upwards. "what about her?"

you whined with a shrug, rolling on your side to not face her. "forget it."

"no, wait, tell me." she pleaded, laying down beside you. "i'm sorry, your highness. i w— won't laugh, 'promise." she raised her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, making her embarrassment obvious. your trust and respect was the most important thing in her life, not counting your love. the love that made you change your mind and open up to her, even if she'd shrug it off.

"maybe she knows a place..." you started but gave up midway. you truly didn't know what to say - you didn't have a plan, not even a single idea. the little bulb in your head was off and won't turn on, no matter how hard you'll focus. "i— i don't know, 'm sorry..." you rolled over to face her, even though you usually didn't want to let her see your embarrased state.

"well," she smiled, tugging a loose strand of your messy hair behind your ear, while her free hand rested between her head and one of the pillows. "i know a place."

your eyes flashed with curiosity, widening and brightening, reflecting some sort of light that wasn't even there, in your dark room. "you do?" you propped yourself on your elbow, parting your lips in focus.

"well, not personally..." she chuckled, looking away and fidgeting with her fingers. "i heard that— you know, in town— they have a map of neighboring cities. they often travel to trade things and..." you sat up, looking down at her with an expression that signaled your surprise. "i can try to talk with someone—"

you cut her off by leaning in and pressing a peck on her lips. "you're amazing, ellie." you stood up and started rummaging through your closet, after you pulled out an old leather suitcase from under the bed.

she trailed after you, though stopped at the edge of the bed. "what are you doing?" she frowned, pouting her lips in a way that made your mind squeal.

"packing." you spun around, making a show by throwing each neatly folded piece of clothing with exaggerated grace. "you should too!"

she got up and stared at your moves with crossed arms, what could feel judging matched with her slightly mocking pout. she nodded, as if it was obvious. "so you just want to leave like— right now?"

you dropped a dress you were holding on the floor and walked over to her, putting your hands on her shoulders. "yeah?" you shrugged, not sure what is making her so... confused. "it's now or never."

"now or never..." she repeated, still inclining her head up and down before stopping with a loud click of her tongue. "of course." she slowly walked backwards, towards the door. "you're crazy, you know that?" she laughed and for a split second you thought she's heading to the exit because she wants to leave - leave and tell everyone about your plan so someone would stop you. "let's meet in the garden as soon as you finish."

you let out a deep breath you didn't even know you've been holding. she winked and disappeared behind the scratched piece of wood you couldn't really call door anymore. you slammed it with force inappropriate for an innocent princess too many times.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

"how did you know there would be a hole here?" you pointed at a spot in the wall which lacked dozens of bricks, creating an empty circle enough for you to fit through.

"oh, sweetie..." she nonchalantly smiled, and you couldn't help but freeze at the nickname. it was definitely the first time she called you something else than 'your highness' or 'my princess'. "do you think it's my first time stealing a horse?"

"why would you steal a horse?" you pushed your bag into the hole, kicking it forwards with your leg to make room for yourself.

"well, not steal, i only borrowed them." she put her hand between the bricks and your head, protecting you from bumping into them if you'd accidentally raise your chin. "sometimes, when your mother pisses me off— nothing's better than some fresh air."

you hummed, crawling to the other side of the grey wall. you straightened up, wiping your dirty hands in your dress and jumping in excitement. "come on, ellie! i'm waiting!"

soon enough her package appeared next to you, reminding you of your own, so you picked it up with a loud, sharp huff. you swore that it weighs more than you and your knight (in full armor on!) together.

"let me take it." she extended her hand towards you, curling her fingers in a 'come on' gesture. you didn't see her coming, so you budged, what made you drop your suitcase. you raised it, this time holding back a gasp, and shook your head. "so stubborn." ellie murmured with a smirk.

"i— ugh— 'm not stubborn. i'm just— uh, strong." you whined, persistently dragging your bag with you.

"my strong princess." she taunted, lifting and withdrawing her own package like a weight. you rolled your eyes but you admired how easy it was for her - your strong knight. "we'll see how long you can last."

"oh— 's so mean." you huffed again, causing in some loose strands of your hair flying upwards.

you walked along the wall, letting ellie stay a few steps behind, as you searched for the back door of the stable.

the plan wasn't complicated. you couldn't just take your horses and leave - not before the sunrise. not only the guards won't let you, but they'd also tell your mother about your suspicious behavior. she'll immediately figure your plans out. so, you had to come in through the second entrance - the one from the forest's side. then, you'll just take your horse - without making much noise and... go wherever you want. you'll be free and in such a simple way. easy. too easy.

"ellie?" you started, seeing massive wooden door a few meters ahead. you waited for her curious 'yeah?' before continuing; "how are we going to get inside?" you let her laugh for a few seconds, but she didn't gave you any answer even after her burst out finished. "so, how?"

"do you think they guard it?" she asked, running four steps forward to catch up with you.

"they don't?" you knitted your eyebrows together. "but that's dangerous!"

she shrugged, though her nonchalant smile clearly communicated; 'i know something you don't'.

after a few minutes and ellie's messing with the padlock, you safely got inside the stable. you ran up to your white, well-kept horse - pearl - forgetting about the burdensome weigh of your package, which quickly stopped being your problem. your suitcase quickly got on pearl's back, just like you, though you had to hold it the whole time. ellie's animal was the opposite of yours. in appearance -  it was a chocolate shade of brown with a few lighter, as white as pearl spots, but also personality. whoever doubted that horses have personality could be easily proven wrong - when yours was a total princess (though it was easy to make her cross some boundaries), ellie's was way too confident and energetic.

you left the stable— or, well, pearl did it for you, and impatiently waited for ellie as she closed the door after you. on her way back to shimmer - her horse - she patted pearl and jokingly tugged on your leg, what almost made you kick her straight on her nose. yet she just laughed, and you did too. you had reasons to be happy.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

ellie helped you get off pearl before beginning to tie both animals to a nearby fence. "could you call luccy?" she asked with a loving smile.

"i don't know, ellie, i don't know her—" you explained, nervously stuttering and scratching the back of your neck.

you were scared of this moment. you were about to meet the person who tried to save ellie, a person who's actions could be so important in your story. could be, but you teared out a few pages and decided to overwrite them. you didn't know what genre will your book be, not yet, but you knew luccy will be in it. and she'll be a good character, even if she'd only appear in one chapter.

"nothing to be scared of." ellie reassured you, finishing her job and walking up to you. she put her hand on your lower back, slightly pushing you forward and, before you could protest, she knocked on the door for you.

you waited a few seconds, not too long but enough to let you know that she was doing something before you interrupted her. she was a tall, skinny woman with blonde, shoulder-length hair. her big blue eyes were squinted, signaling her defect of vision. she looked messy but, you had to admit, pretty.

she mumbled something you couldn't quite understand, maybe just a bunch of nonsense, and pulled you in for a hug. after a moment of hesitation, you wrapped your hands around her too, carefully listening to her rambling.

"come in, girls." she pulled away and stepped aside, making room for both of you. the way she acted around you carried a friendly tension - something that you never felt with any other stranger.

"we won't bother you for too long." ellie smiled, wrapping her arm around your waist to make sure you won't get lost. well, there was no way you'd get lost in this little cottage, maybe ellie was overprotective, or maybe needed an excuse to be close to you.

"oh, i hope so!" luccy laughed, closing the door with a loud creak which hurt your ears and made you wince. "my mother is sick. i have a lot things to do, really." her gaze wandered, staring into all the obstacles on the floor with a sigh. the area was... messy, to say nicely. "but i'm glad to finally meet you." she looked at you and you instinctively looked around to see if there's anyone behind you. after realizing she really means you, you honored her with a smile and nod. "ellie told me a lot about you."

for a second, you almost said something similar, before realizing ellie never mentioned luccy. you first met her in your dream, if you can even call it a 'meeting'.

and, obviously, 'we won't bother you for too long' turned into hours.

ellie asked her for a favor, a big and dangerous one. you didn't plan it with her beforehand, she surprised both of you. and the way she said it... so unfazed, so unbothered. "we know that gossips spread fast here so— i thought you could start a rumour that you saw the queen ordering someone to kill us." faking death was smart and making your mother responsible for it was even better but, jesus, why would she ask for that without consulting it with you? your own mother trying to kill you.

when you finally left, the sun was close to setting, but at least you had the map. it was an old, damp piece of paper with weird lines on it.

"this square is the castle." you remembered luccy tapping a purple shape, before tracing her fingers along a red line to a green triangle. "here's... our friendly neighbours. they shouldn't know you're the—... princess. i advise you to settle down here."

you tried to reconstruct the route, but it seemed way more complicated now. you knew where's the castle, but where's your current location? you passed the map to ellie and got on pearl with an annoyed huff.

"are you still mad for the rumour plan?" ellie asked in a hopeful, innocent and pleading voice.

"no—" you smacked your lips. "well, yes, that too."

her expression turned serious, but soft, and her voice had an understanding undertone to it. "you'll thank me once we'll live our life, free and happy."

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

and you did. you thanked her everyday, you showed her how grateful you are all the time, in every way possible.

you quickly got accepted to the town's community. your silver coins were enough to buy a small cottage with some space for your horses outside. dina - a girl your age who was always there to help - said the previous owners died, by some disease unknown to you, related to animals. you still had a lot of change, so you kept it in a jar above your new desk. everything was new, so new and unusual. you had a lot to learn - how to hunt, and cook your prey, sow and harvest your seeds... but you could gladly admit you were doing just fine.

not long after you settled, you found barely breathing pearl in the backyard. her perfectly white skin was interrupted by a blurred, dark red spot. there was an arrow stuck in her leg, close to stomach, and you had no idea for how long she suffered before you found her. the whole morning? night?

"i'm sorry." ellie leaned down, pressing her head to pearl's stomach next to you. "i'll find out who did that and i promise—" you cut her off with a shake of your head and a weak 'no'. you hoped it was a mistake, a one-off situation. you hoped you won't have to take any action. ellie sighed, standing up after patting pearl's body. "i'll get dina, okay?" she asked, and you weren't sure if she's talking to you or to your poor horse, so you only hummed in response.

"we could save her, it's just a little arrow—" you persistently pleaded, but you were met with nothing more than disappointed sighs.

"a wounded horse is useless." dina shrugged, and no matter how much you wanted to disagree, you knew you have to trust her.

and that's how your best friend, because that's how you liked to refer to pearl, even if it's just an animal, turned into a few gold coins from the town's butcher.

ellie liked to pretend it doesn't bother her, really.

"things like that are normal here" or "we have to get used to... that" and finally "it's not a big deal, you know, not anymore".

yet, she checked on shimmer every hour. one day, when you were trembling from fear as she didn't come home after sunset, you found her asleep in the backyard with her own friend. you couldn't wake her up, not when she looked so calm and innocent, with her lips parted and deep, loud breathing. you sat next to her, eventually drifting off to sleep too.

you had a dream, first one since moving out of the castle. it was a reminder of the new start, not only yours, but of all the residents. revolution.

it was about an event, which happened a few months before. about two weeks after you crossed out your royal past, luccy visited you to tell you about the success of ellie's plan. when you got to town - on still well and safe pearl - you found an empty hill with a view on the gallows. it looked just like in your nightmare, though except your loved one, your mother was the one standing there with a noose around her neck. one of the men, which you also saw in your dream before, shouted out loud all the bad things the convicted did, and you felt relieved that her death sentence isn't only caused by you. it turned out she broke her own law more times than you could imagine.

"...ordering the murder of her own daughter, our only princess..." you heard him reading out loud, almost yelling, and much to your surprise he didn't mention ellie.

you couldn't help but compare this situation to your love's penalty - no one said what she did wrong. your mother was determined to make her die, and she did, not even bothering to make up some reasons. but it was just a nightmare, and now, you were glad everyone will know how horrible the queen really is.

"i— miss this place." you pointed at your surroundings and the small castle you used to live in, far, far, far away. "i wish i could let them know i'm safe." you looked at the people mourning you, knowing it's the end of your lineage. you were in line to the throne, and now... who will live in your castle? you couldn't come back, though. in their minds, you were dead. they weren't completely wrong - a part of you really died. an useless part, which you didn't need anyway. "but then they'll all realise my mother is innocent."

"oh, hey now!—" ellie chuckled, like she always did during serious talks about your mother. "just because she didn't kill us doesn't mean she's innocent."

for a moment, your mind wandered to how she treated the service. how she treated everyone, unless they were other royals and she needed something from them - like the prince. oh, how nice she was to him.

the list of her faults was long, much longer than just the mention of your death. you nodded and with that thought, proudly watched your mother die.

✧˖°

[mellowsadistic]

The Magician's Game - Chapter 3

Katherine ran down the corridor. It was well-furnished with little tables and vases and the occasional gorgeous painting on the wall, nicer even than Katherine’s own family home, but she didn’t have time to admire it. She’d slipped into her room at the same time as the others, pulled on her dress, which had magically appeared on her bed since she’d lost it during the challenge, and left immediately. One woman turned into a thumbsucker, another stripped of her stylish clothes and dressed up like a nursery schooler, and a third, worst of all, rendered permanently incontinent.

Katherine’s relief at not being in Becky’s place had quickly passed. It was pretty clear what sort of thing the Magician had in mind for them, and Katherine had no intention of ending up as some overgrown baby herself. There were still three challenges to go, not to mention whatever extra things the Magician might do to them if they were voted out. She couldn’t stand the thought of ending up like Becky, forced to spend the rest of her life in diapers. Diapers. A fashion statement that told the world you couldn’t even control your bladder and bowels, that you were no better than a two-year-old at keeping yourself clean and dry. The idea that a grown woman could be reduced to that was terrifying. She had to get out of here now.

Katherine ran as quietly as she could. She’d gone deeper into the mansion – there was no way she was going back through the hall when there was a chance Becky and the Magician were still there – but the place was like a labyrinth. Still, there had to be an exit, and sneaking out was clearly her best option. The man was obviously a real magician of some kind, but he surely couldn’t know everything. Katherine was more worried about coming across other people in the house, members of staff perhaps, maids or cooks or housekeepers, anyone who might alert the Magician to what she was doing.

She froze as she head the faint sounds of a soft, female voice coming from up ahead. There was a door on the right of the corridor just a few feet away that was slightly ajar. She’d have to be careful to sneak past without whoever was inside seeing her. She approached cautiously, and as she got closer, the words of the woman inside became clearer.

“There’s a good girl,” she cooed. “Drink it all up for Nanny now, that’s a good baby. Such a hungry girl, aren’t you? Someone’s getting her tum-tum nice and full, isn’t she?”

When she was right outside the door, Katherine peeked inside through the gap. What she saw made her freeze in place. There was a beautiful middle-aged woman sitting on a sofa. Her breasts, larger even than Katherine’s own, were out, and latched onto the nipple of one of them was a girl who seemed to be around Katherine’s age, naked but for the thick white nappy on her bottom. All Katherine could see of her head was her sleek brown hair, but there was no doubt she was nursing eagerly on the older woman’s breast.

“That’s it,” the woman crooned down at the girl laying across her lap. “Drink up all of Nanny’s milk like a good baby.”

Katherine was transfixed. It was like looking at a car crash – a girl her age reduced to the level of a nursing infant.

Quite suddenly, the older woman looked up, straight into Katherine’s eyes. A broad smile appeared on her face, maternal yet slightly sinister as well.

“Does someone else want a suckle?” she asked lightly.

Katherine squealed and fled as fast as she could down the corridor. She ran past other doors, trying not to think about what might be behind them. It was only until she came close to another open one, with a woman’s voice coming from it once again, this time stern and lecturing, that she hesitated.

“You naughty little thing! You do not take your nappy off, missy. I hope that red bottom will teach you a lesson. Come on, legs in, let’s get this over your nappy. You know what a little fountain you can be.”

Katherine couldn’t help herself. She stopped running to glance inside.

There was another Nanny in the room, and another girl. But this time the young lady was standing up, sniffling, her eyes red from crying, while her Nanny tugged a pair of plastic pants over her comically large diaper. She wasn’t wearing anything else. Her bare, womanly breasts, tight tummy, and slender legs clashed ridiculously with the bulky nappy on her bottom.

Just like before, as if she could somehow sense Katherine’s presence, the woman looked around suddenly, smirking. Katherine felt her stomach drop.

“Hang around sweetie, and Nanny will change you into a nappy and plastic pants of your own.”

Katherine fled again, breathing frantically. She had to get out of here! She had to! But as she ran, she began to feel an odd dizziness. She was slowing down, and her strides becoming more and more uncoordinated. Her gait widened, and she found herself lifting her feet too high off the ground, stomping the floor forcefully when they came down and putting her off-balance. She was toddling!

“No, no, no, no, no…” she muttered to herself, tears welling up in her eyes. She kept going. At the end of the corridor was a door. If she could just reach it…

Her knees gave out, and she fell to her hands and knees. She crawled desperately towards the door, tears spilling down her cheeks. She was so close! She didn’t even notice as her knee-length dress shortened, rising up her legs and over her backside, until her bare bum and pussy were on display. She’d been in such a hurry to escape that she hadn’t even bothered putting on underwear.

“Where are you off to, little one?” came the Magician’s deep, amused voice from right behind her. Katherine shrieked in fear and looked around, gazing up at the man standing above her with a wicked smile on his face.

“I… I… I was just…”

“It seems like you’ve been running all over the house, silly girl!” He reached down and patted her bare bottom. “That’s very naughty, sweetie. Daddy told you to get changed and meet back in the dining room. But it looks like a certain little lady was trying to escape! Did you think I wouldn’t know, Katherine? I brought you here with a snap of my fingers, remember? There’s no getting away.”

“I’m sorry!” Katherine sobbed, terror on her face. “Please don’t do anything to me!”

The Magician chuckled and, taking her by her hands, lifted Katherine to her feet. She was relieved that she was able to stand up again, even if her new shorter dress just barely covered her pussy.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m not going to do anything too bad to you. But you do need to be punished.”

“Oh God no!” Katherine wailed. “Please!”

“Hush baby. You were very naughty for trying to run away, and I think I know a very fitting punishment for you.”

Still keeping a hold of her hand, he started leading her back down the corridor. With a horrible plummeting in her stomach, Katherine realised that she was still toddling. Her stance was still wide and awkward, her steps still heavy and uncoordinated.

“There won’t be any more running for you, little miss,” said the Magician, confirming her fears. “And no more elegant struts down the catwalk either.”

Katherine burst into tears as the Magician tugged her along behind him. She was going to be stuck like this! She’d always carried herself with such dignity and grace, and now she was supposed to stomp around everywhere like some stupid three-year-old?!

“I heard you saw a couple of the other girls staying in my house,” the Magician went on conversationally, ignoring Katherine’s sobbing. “Little Lizzy getting her afternoon feeding. She used to be a particularly scathing food critic, responsible for the shutdown of many lovely restaurants. She was quite the snob when it came to food. Now she’s on a diet of nothing but breastmilk.” He looked devilishly happy about it. “Of course, most of the guests I have get to go back to their lives – their new ones anyway – but sometimes there are special cases. Since I made her unable to eat or drink anything except breastmilk, I thought little Lizzy might as well stay here with one of the lovely Nannies I employ to be her wetnurse. Then you saw cute little Jemima too. Believe it or not, she was a hardened criminal once, getting involved in gangs and doing all sorts of nasty things. But now she spends her days toddling around in her nappies, playing with her toys, and getting spanked for the slightest bit of misbehaviour. Her attitude is so much better now!”

Finally, Katherine and the Magician were back in the hall. He led her, waddling absurdly and flashing her pussy with every awkward step, into the dining room where they’d had their baby-food lunch earlier that day. The rest of the girls were standing around nervously. They stared at Katherine with a mixture of curiosity and dread. Abby, Madelyn, and Susie were standing close together, but Becky was a little distance away, still wearing a stinky, heavily soiled nappy between her legs. Madelyn was still nursing her thumb, and Susie had apparently not found any adult clothes to change into in her room, because she was still dressed like a nursery schooler.

“Little Katie here tried to escape,” the Magician explained. “So now she toddles when she walks. Isn’t she just the cutest?”

Katherine blushed bright red and kept her eyes fixed on the floor.

“Now then,” the Magician went on, “it’s almost time to have our first vote.” He waved his hand and a ballot box appeared on the table in front of them. “But first, you can all have a little discussion. Talk to whoever you want, or don’t. It’s up to you. But in a couple of minutes, you’ll all be voting to kick one of your number out of the competition. Good luck!”

He vanished, leaving the five women standing there, unsure of what to do. Becky started to move closer to the other girls, but Abby and Madelyn looked disgusted, and Susie said “Ewww! No! Stay over there Becky!”

Becky didn’t know whether she wanted to burst into tears or start screaming in rage. The nappy sagging from her hips was disgusting, but this wasn’t her fault!

“Look, I’m sorry,” Susie said, turning to the others. “But do we really want to spend the rest of this ordeal with a woman who might poop her pants at any moment? I think we should vote out Becky.”

“No!” Becky squealed, looking around desperately. “Please don’t! I don’t want to go home like this! I don’t wanna be a big baby forever!” She looked utterly pathetic.

Abby almost felt a little sorry for her, but she agreed with Susie that spending however many more challenges around a yucky, smelly, pants-filling baby woman was disgusting. But on the other hand, sobbing and crying in her nappies, the eighteen-year-old Becky didn’t seem like she would be much of a threat…

Susie and Becky continued arguing while the others watched. Abby stared at Susie, thinking hard. If anything, Susie was far more likely to pose a threat to Abby in future rounds. She glanced at Madelyn, and noticed that she was also looking at Susie appraisingly, her brow furrowed. She might almost have looked calculating if it wasn’t for the thumb bobbing stupidly in her mouth. Abby might have considered voting out Madelyn – she’d seemed so confident and powerful at the beginning – but being turned into a thumbsucker seemed to have robbed her of some of her authority. Madelyn looked up, and their eyes met. A flash of understanding passed between them. Katherine was still sniffling, mourning her ability to walk like an adult. She wouldn’t be of any use, but hopefully it wouldn’t matter.

The Magician suddenly reappeared, and Susie and Becky’s argument broke off. “Are we all ready, girls?” he asked with that horrible smile. He passed out a piece of paper and a crayon to each of them. They all hurried away from one another and, covering their work like schoolchildren taking a test, they scribbled down a name. One by one, they walked up to the ballot box and placed their piece of paper into the slot. Then they all stood around fearfully while the Magician opened it up, and took them out to look at.

“Excellent!” he announced. “At three votes, we have a clear loser.” He looked around, his eyes glittering with light. There was tense silence but for the wet smacking sound of Madelyn’s thumbsucking. The magician’s gaze passed over each of them before coming to rest on Susie. “Miss Taylor,” he said. Susie felt her blood run cold. “I’m afraid you’re out of the competition.”

“No!” Susie cried. “It can’t be me! Count the votes again! I couldn’t… I won’t…”

But the Magician was walking up to her slowly, and her voice died. “Awww, don’t be scared, little one,” he cooed, tickling her under the chin. “I’m not going to throw you out to the cold. I know just the person to take care of you.” He gestured to the door. Susie looked over, and saw her mother standing in the doorway. She felt as though a bucket of ice had been poured over her.

“Hi Susie-wusie!” Mrs Taylor cooed, with a very Magician-like smile. “Are you reading to come back home?” Her voice was slow and patronising, like she was talking to a very young child.

Susie could only stare in horror. Then, when she realised what the Magician intended for her, she turned round and ran. She only made it a few steps before her mother’s voice said sternly, “Stay where you are, little girl!” and Susie felt her body freeze. “Now come back here right this instant. Come to Mummy, Susie-poo.”

Susie couldn’t stop herself from turning around and marching back over to her mother to stand submissively before her.

“W-what have you done to me?” she whispered.

“This lovely man’s sorted out everything,” Mrs Taylor said, tilting her head at the Magician. “He’s made it so you won’t be able to disobey me ever again. Anything I tell you to do, you’ll do it. Isn’t that wonderful? Mummy always did know what’s best for you, and now I’ll have full control of your life for good. You’ve been a very naughty girl, Susie. Running away from Mummy, going off to university, thinking you can be ‘mature’ and ‘independent’. You’ve been very, very naughty – and you know what that means, don’t you sweetie?”

Susie whimpered. She knew what her mother was going to say before she said it. Those horrible, terrifying, humiliating words from her childhood.

“It’s smacky bum-bum time, Susie.”

“No….” Susie sobbed, barely audibly. She hated those words more than anything in the world. It was all her mother’s strict discipline wrapped up in the most patronising, insultingly infantile language. It was every humiliating spanking she’d ever received, right up until the day she’d left home.

“Yes, baby,” her mother said, talking in that same slow, sweet, condescending voice. “Naughty girls need red tushies.” She reached under Susie’s skirt and hooked her fingers into the waistband of her cotton underpants. Then, agonizingly slowly, she drew them down to her daughter’s knees. “There we go. Now over my knee, Susie.”

Susie fought as hard she could to resist, but it was impossible. She draped herself over her mother’s lap obediently.

Mrs Taylor flipped up her daughter’s tiny skirt, exposing her pale bare bottom. She patted it gently, as if savouring the sight of her wayward daughter back over her knees once again, and then she started to rain down sharp, painful smacks.

Susie screwed up her face in pain and humiliation as her bottom quickly went from white to red. She wanted to stay in control of herself, to preserve whatever dignity she had left, but it was useless. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she started to cry. Her crying became louder and louder as her mother spanked her like a disobedient child, until she was wailing like a baby at the top of her lungs. “Dobbit Mummy!” she sobbed thickly. “P’ease dobbit! I don’t wanna be a little girl again! Waaaaaaaaah!”

The other girls watched with a combination of horror and morbid fascination, and in Becky’s case a tiny bit of satisfaction, as Susie got her bottom smacked like a little girl.

At last, Mrs Taylor finished. She helped Susie off her lap and got to her feet. Susie just stood there, crying her eyes out with her undies around her ankles and her bottom bright red.

“Thank you for everything,” Mrs Taylor said to the Magician. “I’m so glad to have my little girl back where she belongs. Do you think you could be so kind as to send us home? I think this little one needs to spend a few hours in time-out before bed.”

The Magician inclined his head graciously. “Of course.” He snapped his fingers, and Susie and her mother vanished.

[trancylovecraft]

Would a yandere clay Puppington x reader be bad?

(MORAL OREL) YANDERE CLAY PUPPINGTON x READER: Headcannons

• The worst yandere you could get in Moralton

• This man is possessive, Manipulative and willingly delusional. Topped with worshipping.

• He’s possessive in the way that he wants to control every aspect of your life to his preferences. Clothes, Food, Mannerisms are all dictated by him.

• Manipulative in the way that he enjoys to gaslight you. What do you mean you want to call your parents? You called them this morning dear. Maybe you should lie down for a while, You don't look too good.

• It’s also in the way that he will convince you that everyone is out to get you, Everyone but him.

• And finally he likes to willingly delude himself into believing this is normal and what he’s doing is right. Choosing to ignore the way you flinched when he kissed your cheek, Ignoring the ways you’d find any excuse not to be in the same room as him. You loved him, You do!

• The worshipping part we’ll get onto later.

• All of what if listed above applies in a romantic scenario. For now we’ll run with that.

• Lets say that you are a new resident in the lovely town of Moralton.

• As the moving truck unpacks your stuff you get greeted by your new neighbours: The puppingtons.

• They appeared to be such a lovely family. A wife, Husband and two little boys. The perfect nuclear family.

• Bloberta was sweet enough to you as she had brought over a welcome casserole for you to have that night.

• Orel was a very charming kid with nice manners. He invited you out to Sunday mass, and despite being agnostic (Or anything of your choice) you couldn't turn him down.

• You got along with shapey just fine too!

• The only one left was Clay himself.

• Clay was presented to you as such a great man, The perfect husband for bloberta.

• He helped you carry your stuff inside your house, He welcomed you in warmly and even made tea for the both of you once you finished unpacking.

• You thought he was a great neighbour and looked forward to talking with him more.

• Clay, however. Viewed you in a different light.

• Whether it was your kind personality, your hard working attitude or just your simple smile you had managed to draw him in. Hook, Line and sinker.

• Despite how amazing and perfect the puppingtons may have seemed to you. You had no clue about the truth

• Clay lived in a loveless marriage. Whatever spark he had for Bloberta had faded years ago. Their distaste for each other only soured with the subtle fights they had behind closed doors

• While Orel and Shapey he did still somewhat care for it didn’t change Orel’s constant misbehaviour in the name of God nor did it change Shapey’s attitude.

• Compile this with his dead end job of being the mayor and everything else you can understand that when someone finally comes into his life he see's them as a saviour, The one who can take him away from this hell.

• He use to drown his sorrow in a bottle. Don't get him wrong, he still does. But now he’s almost been too distracted to pick up a bottle.

• He can't stop thinking about you. The way you smiled, the way you walked and talked. You're entire being was perfect

• It starts off small at first. you're out of sugar and to come borrow his. When you ask he invites you in for tea sessions that linger a little long.

• Then it ramps up.

• Suddenly the rent on your house skyrockets. You're unable to get in touch with your land lord and there are no other affordable houses you can move to. At this point you are panicking.

• That's when clay comes in.

• He offers to pay for your rent with a sympathetic yet cheerful look on his face.

• You deny him, It's too big of a favour.

• He insists though. And since you have no other options you let him lend you the money. All none the wiser to him commanding the landlord to up your prices.

• That's step one. You depend on him financially now.

• Step two comes around when you hear about the scandal involving Bloberta and another man.

• Of course you go over to see clay and check in on how he’s doing. You feel concerned and worried for him.

• When he answers the door you can smell the liquor and see the booze stains on his house coat.

• Your worry multiplies as he invites you in

• You don't know how it happened, But you were pressured into drinking with him, As he wouldn't open up without it being over a drink.

• And as soon as it starts, It ends in his bed. You woke up with the biggest hangover of your life all while cuddling with a still asleep Clay.

• He knew this would happen. He wasn't actually as drunk as he made himself out to be earlier, His years of alcoholism had him build up a tolerance.

• He engineered the scandal getting out, too. It didn’t take much as he already knew how unfaithful Bloberta already was. Shapey was proof of that. So when he finally snapped a picture of the two getting down it wasn't hard to make it spread. Letting him divorce her without too much scorn

•  After you woke up you felt ashamed and embarrassed of what you had done.

• You couldn't stay there. You left before he woke up

• But you were stupid to think you could hide away forever.

• The next week consisted of Clay begging you to talk to him. Guilt tripping you into talking with him and coming over. As soon as you know it, you're dating him. Moving into his house and talking with Orel like a mother would

• Clay in a relationship doesn't have many good moments.

• Your days consist of being the stereotypical 50’s housewife for him.

• Cooking, Cleaning, Making beds, Helping out with Orels homework when It’s the days clay has custody.

• You hate it. But you can't bring yourself to admit it out loud, Clay would be hurt.

• Everyday when he comes in from work he expects you to be waiting at the door, kiss his cheek and then go to pour him a glass of scotch 

• When you’d do something wrong he’d say nothing but give you the most disappointing looks that you felt shame.

• If any love interests other than him were to pop up he may just invite them out on a hunting trip.

• But the one soft part of your relationship is him giving constant praise and compliments to you when you do everything right.

• He calls you dear, Darling. That sort of thing.

• It was nice enough. So nice that you tried to look past all the controlling habits and manipulation.

• Until he had one too many drinks one day.

• You don't know what it was that set him off that day. Maybe something happened at work, Maybe you did something wrong or maybe he was just in a bad mood.

• But suddenly you were crying. He was screaming and holding a broken glass bottle at you. Threatening and cursing you out.

• That was when you realised how deep of a hole you dug yourself.

• You tried to run, tried to leave but he wouldn't let you.

• He’d lock you in the basement if you got too much of an issue. 

• He’d threaten you with anything you have: Family, Friends, Pets, Beloved objects. Anything he can use against you, he will.

• Orel may be a way to escape. However he isn't reliable unless you're a very persuasive person. This is because Clay had probably already gotten to him and taught him a lesson about “Love”.

• This probably got him into some scenario involving a lot of people he likes being put into the basement along with you. It was awkward.

• But enough about that.

• There would be no escaping him, It’s nigh impossible.

• While Clay does love you and worship you he thinks you need to learn a few things before you both can go back to normal.

• Overall, He’s a fucking nightmare.

[imagine-silk]

i feel like varric is a classic platonic yandere.

do NOT fuck with his friends thank you.

》Honestly he's already halfway there. Also I'm gonna use a Adaar non!inquisitor.

》This has been so long in the making I am sorry TTMTT

He does a lot for his friends. He makes sure Merrill is unbothered by paying off people, even going so far as to pay people as pseudo bodyguards. Helped Anders stay hidden underground and stocked. As much as he teased Carver he made sure prices at the shops he went were more affordable, if you catch my drift. And at the Conclave he shut his mouth at the end of the story. The champion of Kirkwall vanished in the wind. Lie by omission.

Something about you though clicked in his head and rang it like a bell ten-fold. He would die for his friends, yes, but he would kill for you.

A Tal-Vashoth mercenary who was stranded. The reason you were working with them was to cover a debt you owed. So when your company died and you were the only survivor you knew they would tax you for it. There was no doubt they would keep you working for the rest of your life, no matter how long or short it may be. But the so-called Inquisition was housing the homeless and faithful. That included you because going back wasn't an option.

Cassandra used you to help detain Varric so when she saw you among the people she sniffed you out as not a refugee. She was going to throw you out but Trevelyan stopped her and offered you shelter in exchange for work.

It's a funny thing, you were the one to seek him out. You almost tripped over him and ended up jumping over him. He was always a sucker for interesting introductions. The next time you were going to apologize for how you treated him in his detainment.

He quickly realized you were seeking him out because he was a constant to you who never ever showed you ill will. That was the slope to madness.

Going out of his way to talk you was received as well as he thought it would, you were basically vibrating in your seat. After a few times of hearing his stories at the pub you realized what he meant when he said he was a liar, but you told him you found it funny.

He heard someone in Haven dragging the 'Mercenary Qunari' through the mud. See as there was a grand total of seven Qunari at Haven he knew who he was talking about. Suddenly they got the worst chores to do, separately.

Other than him you're pretty isolated. All your friends were dead, no family, and the people who wanted you also wanted you as a slave. For some reason that didn't make him want to make you some friends like he did for Merrill. Your time was his.

You making friends was by no means illegal but he would interfere. Maybe he needs you to read the newest chapter of his murder serial. Or somehow they get extra shifts that make them keep moving. He will never pull the 'I need some company' card but if you see him struggling he won't turn away like he would with others.

After Haven goes down he gets more serious in his attempts to help but also to keep you out of the limelight. The more he gets involved in the Inquisitor's inner circle the more he keeps an eye on you. There is nothing you do he doesn't know about, nowhere you get deployed he didn't allow.

At Skyhold you feel like he's the only real person you can go to and he does his best to reinforce that feeling. "Remember; you always got this friend in your corner."

Cole knows about all of this but because you are happy and so is Varric he doesn't interfere. He does say something to Varric about how this friendship feels different to him, more intense, but Varric dismisses it.

If Hawke is saved he introduces you to them and you two hit it off, Varric guiding the conversation as smoothly as it could go. After Hawke will remark to him in private how he seems very invested in you and he doesn't seem to want to go back to Kirkwall like they thought he would. He dismisses it. If Hawke was left in the Fade he is devastated, truly. When you go to console him he allows it to happen and he doesn't try to use this against you even if it would be really easy. He would let this one go unspoiled.

At the end of it all and he goes back to Kirkwall he takes you there. You might think he asked you but there was never any room for you to deny it. Taking down a Qunari quietly wasn't too difficult for a rogue like him. You would have been asleep in ten minutes and onboard in eight. When you get there you are basically confined to his estate. You're not locked in but he tells you not to go certain places and it's most of Kirkwall. You can go to the Hanged Man and everyone in there knows not to try and hassle you in any way. If they do at least twenty people will stop them.

[More when the new game comes out]

[catreginae]

A Shot for the Future

Sky discovers that poly relationships are an option he never thought of and talks to Warriors about it. Fits the prompts for @queering-the-chain's poly and coming out. Posting this here first so see if people like it before posting it on AO3.

Where was he?

Warriors knew it was a little silly to be worried about Sky when they were in Skyloft. He was the expert of his own era and even if he wasn't, Skyloft was small. There wasn't a lot of room for something to happen to Sky, at least without somebody knowing. He probably just had some non-hero things to catch up on.

He couldn't help but to feel restless though.

Warriors always had a hard time resting when he knew there were people unaccounted for. With Sky being somewhere other than the knight academy where the rest of them were, Warriors found himself near the kitchen waiting for him instead of sleeping in his assigned room for the night. Sky being unaccounted for was a little odd for their group but staying up late near the kitchen wasn’t the worst way to spend an evening. During the war, he would spend several nights looking for his soldiers and fretting over the amount of people still in missing in action. Sometimes, it took days to finally account for everybody if a battle was particularly rough.

Suddenly, he could hear footsteps. Warriors' hand twitched but he left his sword in his assigned room.

"Oh. I didn't know anyone was waiting," Sky mumbled as he rounded the corner. "Can't sleep?"

"Not really," he answered simply. There was no reason to tell Sky that he was awake because his nerves couldn't calm down until he knew where Sky was. It was his own problem to deal with, not Sky's. "Same thing for you?"

"I just... needed to have a long talk with Groose and Sun. I've had something on my mind and I needed their opinions."

Groose... that sounded familiar but he couldn't place why. Warriors filed that away in his mind to figure out later. The more interesting part was the airy, longing look on Sky's face. It was usually reserved for Sun only but he mentioned Groose first and that longing look was there from the start. Sky also had a tremble in his hands, which didn’t seem to entirely match the look on his face. Sky’s body and his face were telling Warriors two different things.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, glancing at Sky's shaking hands again. Sky noticed where he was looking and curled them together.

"Don't say anything to anyone yet, okay?" Sky started, then took a deep breath. His eyes looked up to the ceiling for a moment like he was looking for the words he needed there. "So, one thing I've learned from you guys and your eras is that um... there's a lot of things we haven't thought to try yet."

Warriors nodded, waiting for Sky to go on.

"Like, relationship things. In your eras, it isn't always just two people in a relationship."

Oh, Warriors had a feeling he knew where this was going. He still couldn't figure it if Sky had good news or bad news though.

"For a long time, Groose was mean to me. He was jealous that Sun spent a lot of her time with me and bullied me over it. Even when Sun told him off for it, he didn’t stop. He changedthough. He really stepped up and I couldn't have saved Sun or made it to the end without him. We became really good friends and we stayed friends when I started dating Sun but... I sometimes wondered what it would have been like if I started dating him instead. I don't know when I fell in love with him too but I always thought I just had to swallow those feelings if I wanted to keep dating Sun."

Warriors hummed. "Until you started travelling with us and saw strangers out with their partners."

Sky nodded. "Basically. I can't believe I didn't even think of it! I just didn't know it was an option. I could have asked Groose and Sun about all three of us dating each other if it occurred to me earlier! I just never saw a relationship like that before."

That was the kicker, wasn't it? Sky was just working with what he knew, despite being among the first to change Skyloft and The Surface into the Hyrule that Warriors would eventually call home. Maybe chasing the shadow through time gave Sky the perspective he needed to start making those changes.

"So... did your talk go well, then? Is this Groose fellow joining you and Sun?"

"Oh!" Sky jumped slightly like he was shocked by static before he relaxed and started to rub the back of his neck. "We all acknowledged that we have some feelings for each other so we’re giving it a try to see if works for us. There's still a lot of talking to do about boundaries and the fact that I'm not home for good yet, so we’re trying to keep it kind of quiet for now. It's still exciting though! I can't wait to see them again tomorrow."

Warrior grinned at the blush forming on the other hero's face.

"I think I have have some scotch in my bag. Let's do a shot. There's probably a time paradox involved somewhere here but I’m proud of you! You took a chance and it worked out for you!"

"Time paradox?" Sky asked with a frown.

"You saw people in a poly relationship way into the future for you and then you started a poly relationship in your present where, as far as you know, nobody thought of dating more than one person before. You used future knowledge you wouldn’t normally have if it wasn’t for the shadow to do something in our past," Warriors answered, his hand waving back in forth to follow the timeline in his head. Sky’s face scrunched up.

"You know what? A shot sounds good. Let's go," Sky said.

As they both headed back to his room for the bottle, Sky tapped him on the shoulder. "Poly? That's what it's called?" he whispered.

"Oh, I made the maybe-paradox worse."

[veroniquesboutique]

Kinktober Day 17 - Body Modifications & Spanking

For Kinktober day 17!

Shikamaru Nara x AFAB!Reader

Content warnings: AFAB!reader, female reader, stranger sex, protected/condom, spanking, tattoos/piercings, oral f-receiving, PV sex (missionary), uptight mother, badboy!Shikamaru, undefined age gap, pet names (darling), explicit consent

18+ Minors DNI

More under the cut!

You trace the dark lines of each image that decorates the tan skin on his arms. The tattoos flex and bend every time he moves, and when you finally glance back up at his face, he’s grinning down at you, watching you mesmerized by the art bled into his being. The bright light of the room glints off the metal bedazzled into his face. 

“My mother would hate you,” you laugh softly, turning your attention back to tracing the patchwork designs on his skin, moving from his arm to his thigh, just above the knee. You’ve cuddled yourself into the crook of his arm, and his own fingers are softly trailing your unadorned skin on your upper arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. A laugh falls from his lips, but you’re distracted from the sound by the light that bounces off the metal in his mouth, on his tongue.

“Yeah, I’ve never been one to bring home,” He sighs out the air in his lungs at the end, watching your hands on his legs. “But that’s never really been my goal.”

You were new to college, having left your small hometown for a university in the big city a few hours away much to your mother’s chagrin, but you were even newer to picking up random, older men from the bar. Yet, just a few hours ago, you were a few tequila shots deep when this man who generally looked like bad news was making eyes across the bar at you. The liquid courage sloshing around inside of you coaxed you over to him, and as you pulled out the barstool next to him, he gave you an impressed and intrigued look through his long eyelashes.

“You keep looking at me. What gives?” Your words slurred even as you tried your hardest to stay clear and enunciated, and it made the mystery man giggle.

“You’re just cute,” He let his eyes slide up and down you body, making you feel hot, “Plus, you’re asking for trouble in a place like this looking like that.”

“That’s a gross thing to say.”

“I’m saying it because I’m not the only guy who has had his eyes on you all night,” He glanced around the room, and you suddenly felt like there were a million eyes watching your every move, like prey in the dark, dense jungle.

“I think I should go home,” You mumbled and tried to stumble out of your chair, but the stranger grabs your arm before you can leave.

“That’s the worst possible option right now,” he ushered you back into your seat and waved over the bartender. “I’m going to get you some water, and we’re going to sit here until you’ve sobered up. Then you can go home.”

And that’s what you did. You and this stranger - you learn through conversation that his name is Shikamaru - sat and talked for hours, only drinking water and chewing nervously through a whole bowl of salted peanuts. His voice would grovel a chuckle out when you told jokes, and it would make your face flush with a blush and a smile. He told you about what he does, what he did before, what he wants to do after, and every word to fall from his mouth was so interesting. And he treated every word to fall from your mouth like gospel, paying attention to you and only you as you told your own stories. Soon, the lights came on in the bar, it was closing time, and you were fully sobered up, so when he asked if you wanted a ride home on his bike, you felt fully comfortable asking if he wanted to come home with you.

Since a dorm room wasn’t exactly the most glamorous option, you two decided to go back to his place.

Now, you lay with him, cuddled in his bed, no move having been made yet between the two of you, and the sun will likely start peeking over the horizon soon, but you have no desire to sleep or leave or stop whatever you have going on with this man.

Your mom would really hate this.

Continued on AO3...