#and these are the forces we had ranged within us
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little-diable · 3 months ago
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A bit of heat, a bit of anger - Aaron Hotchner (smut)
It's been a while, but this idea found its way to me and I simply had to write this. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Aaron has never treated her as kindly as he treats the rest of the team, but after a fight between them and a guy trying to chat the reader up, Aaron can't hold himself back any longer.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, car smut, somewhat enemies to lovers, clear power imbalance, jealous Aaron
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!fem!reader (3k words)
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The heat was burning down on them, letting the sun heat their bodies as the warmth travelled straight through their dark clothes which added an almost dangerous touch to their appearance. (Y/n) had her eyes focused on JJ, listening to her talk while they took in their surroundings.
It should be an easy case, allowing them to catch their unsub in a few days before they could fly home again to escape this heat. (Y/n) could barely believe that she had once grown up with temperatures this high, forced to accept the sweat pooling on her forehead, the thin clothing she’d wear for most parts of the year, things she now hated more than she could put into words. 
“(Y/n), Rossi and I will visit the families, Reid I need you for the geographic profile, JJ and Prentiss talk to the journalists again.” Aaron Hotchner’s voice rang in her ears. A sound so strong, so familiar, she didn’t understand how it still had that same effect on her. (Y/n) had joined the BAU a while ago, instantly drawn in by their friendliness and how they treated her like a member of their small family. She had found things to bond over with every single one of them, all but Aaron Hotchner.
The man was a confusing case to her, a case she struggled to solve. He was kind to her, treated her with just enough warmth to lead her on, and yet he was more distant with her than with the others, drawing a clear line between them. The others had tried to tell her about his cautious self, how he struggled to trust new people and that it would take him a while to warm up to her, but now, months later, he still hadn’t managed to give in to the friendly talks (y/n) tried to rope him into. 
“(Y/n), you should focus on the sister, she is about your age, so you should manage to bond with her, while we will talk to the parents.” Aaron’s dark eyes found hers in the rearview mirror while he spoke to (y/n). She knew better than to protest, knew better than to object – there was no use in going against Aaron Hotchner, at least not when they were on a case away from home. All she could do was nod her head, shooting him a tight smile before focusing on the files she was rereading. 
“I think, (y/n) should be the one to speak to the parents, she did better than we did last time.” Rossi’s voice filled the SUV, forcing their eyes towards him as his grin grew wider. There was something lingering in his gaze, something he and Aaron seemed to understand while (y/n) didn’t see through their wordless back and forth. 
“It’s alright, I will gladly speak to the sister.” She couldn’t bear an awkward atmosphere, couldn’t bear being roped into some useless bickering that would push Aaron Hotchner further away from her. His eyes snapped back towards hers, studying (y/n) for a few more moments before nodding his head at her. 
(Y/n) could only pray that this day would pass quickly enough, already set on visiting the bar Emily had picked for them on their way to this town, all too excited about riding a mechanical bull while putting on a show for whoever would dare to look at her for too long. 
……
To say the visit with the first family had been a bust would be an understatement. Within moments everything had escalated, forcing the three agents out of their home because the sister (y/n) had spoken to had flipped on her, screaming at the confused agent that had been pulled out of the room by a fuming Aaron Hotchner. 
No words had been shared on the ride back, leaving her stomach in knots while overthinking what had happened. It hadn’t been her fault, at least deep down she was aware of that, and yet she had instantly feared Hotchner's outlash, unable to live with the knowledge that she had disappointed him. 
“Do you have a moment, sir?” She was holding open the door to the room they had been offered at the local police station. The others had left for the bar minutes ago, leaving Aaron and (y/n) behind who were still working on new files they had picked up today. A nagging feeling deep inside of her had urged her on to search his closeness, to speak to him while the others were waiting for them. 
Aaron’s eyes flickered up from the file, studying her expression that dripped with too many emotions, a confusing mess she couldn’t fight through. He nodded his head at her, watching (y/n) take a step further into the room before closing the door behind herself. 
“I’m sorry for today, but I need you to know that I would never do something to escalate a situation. She wasn’t in a good mindset and was easily triggered. Disappointing you is something I don’t want to do.” Her hands were interlocked in front of her, tightly squeezed together while the words rolled off her tongue. 
“I shouldn’t have let you do this alone, I’ll make sure to supervise you the next time.” The words felt like a punch to her gut. He treated her as if she was a new agent, as if this was her first time out on the field and not like she had worked with other teams before joining the BAU. Anger began to simmer deep inside of her, an anger that threatened to take over her system. 
“Why are you treating me like this?” Her voice was small, quiet as if she was scared of his reaction. But this wasn’t about fear, no, she was trying to stop herself from spiralling, from getting lost in the rabbit hole he had just pushed her down. 
“Excuse me?” He leaned back in the chair, arms crossed in front of his chest. A fire was burning in both of their eyes, a similarity both shared and yet couldn’t focus on. 
“You treat me as if I’m a child, as if I came here straight from the academy and not like an agent with years of field experience. You know, people always told me all these stories about you, and how I should be grateful for the chance to work with you, but so far I don’t see what they all see. It’s quite disappointing, really.” She shook her head at him and turned from Aaron to flee from the room. But the call of her name forced her to a sudden halt. 
“I will let this pass, write it off as an exhausting day we all had. But the next time you speak to your supervisor like that, you will be asked to leave this team.” Angry tears welled up in her eyes, tears she blinked away while her feet carried her away from Aaron and the brooding expression nobody wore as well as he did. 
……
“It’s your turn, (y/n)!” Emily had her arm slung over (y/n)’s shoulder, dragging her through the bar towards the mechanical bull Emily had ridden minutes ago. It had been a while since (y/n) had left the station, making a quick stop at their hotel to trade her work clothes for a nicely fitting dress that allowed her to blend in with most people at the bar.
“You know, I’m only doing this because I love you, right?” Her laughter bubbled out of her, ringing in both their ears while Spencer, JJ and Derek came to a halt next to Emily. They watched (y/n) climb into the ring before swinging herself onto the bull. It had been years since she had last done this, and yet her body still seemed to remember the routine well enough, giving her the confidence she needed.
Her wandering eyes were instantly drawn to his, watching him sit down next to Rossi, who was also looking at her with a wide smile. Parts of her wanted to put on a show, wondering if any of this was getting to Hotchner, the man whose jaw muscles were clenched and whose arm muscles were stretching the fabric of the dark shirt he wore. But another part of her was convinced that no matter what she’d do, he wouldn’t care, not about her. 
Music filled the air, buzzing through (y/n) while her surroundings began to spin. The people around her cheered for her, letting her smile grow as the movements gained some speed. She tightened her grip, her thighs clamping down as she rode each motion with determination. Her hair flew around her face, but she kept her focus on him, her laughter ringing out above the noise.
She managed to hold on even as the machine made an almost violent lurch, set on throwing her off. With one final, spectacular buck, the bull tried to unseat her. (Y/n) held on for a heartbeat longer before she was finally thrown, landing in a heap of laughter and exhilaration. The crowd erupted in applause, and she looked up to see her friends leaning over the barrier, smiling down at her. 
A guy she hadn’t seen before reached his hand out for her to take, pulling (y/n) back to her feet and straight into his chest. The guy was cute, about her age with piercing eyes that wandered over her features, all while she felt the eyes of the others on her, still cheering for her. 
“You were good, seemed like a natural.” His words left (y/n) chuckling while running a hand through her hair. 
“Did lots of these things as a teenager.” She watched her friends back off, leaving her alone with the guy who still held onto her.
“Will you let me buy you a drink?” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her eyes from flickering back to Aaron who was still watching her with a darkening expression. Perhaps it was stupid of her to say yes to the guy, but the alcohol already buzzing through her system made her feel all too excited about the knowledge that whatever she was doing was clearly getting to Aaron. 
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” They were leaning against the bar, he had his hand placed on her waist, while she had her front turned towards him. She struggled to focus on him, struggled to think about anything but her fight with her supervisor and the desperate need to impress him she couldn’t shake. 
“It’s (y/n).” Her voice trembled slightly, something the guy seemed to misinterpret for attraction or nervousness. His hand moved down from her waist, coming to rest on the small of her back with his fingers spread out on her skin. It was time to put an end to this, to gently push him away while mumbling something about having to return to her friends, but (y/n) didn’t get far. Before she could even try to speak up, she felt a hand clamping down on her wrist, pulling her from the guy’s grasp against a broad chest. 
The scent of his cologne instantly forced its way into her system, making (y/n) shudder against his hold. She didn’t need to look up at him to know that it was Aaron, already feeling much more comfortable than she had seconds before. She barely paid the harsh words Aaron and the guy shared any mind, too focused on the way her heart skipped a few beats as his hand left her wrist only to sling his arm around her waist. 
She didn’t protest as Aaron pulled her out of the bar, past their grinning team mates who studied the two with curiosity. No words were spoken, nothing but silence settled between them, a silence she feared more than the fights she had grown used to over the past months. Aaron started driving away from the bar, dark eyes set straight ahead. 
“So, will you tell me what this was about?” (Y/n) angled her body towards him, studying her supervisor with furrowed eyebrows. For a second, his eyes snapped towards hers, threatening to get lost in her pupils and that overly innocent gaze she shot him. “First you treat me like trash and now you sweep in to rescue me from a guy? You’re confusing me, Aaron.”
It was the first time she used his first name, making his jaw muscles twitch. She kept watching him, every expression tugging on his handsome features while a grin began to grow on her lips. (Y/n) had the upper hand, she had lured him into a trap with his own confusing behaviour. 
“Careful, agent.” His voice was raspier than before, dripping with a dangerous warning she ignored.
“Why? We are no longer on the clock, I can say what the hell I want.” Her grin turned into a full smirk, leaving the man brooding while driving back to their hotel.
“Don’t be a brat, (y/n), I’d hate to punish you.” Aaron’s words shot heat straight down to her core. She clenched her thighs together – a sight that drew a raspy chuckle from the tall man. This seemed to play out exactly like one of her dreams, reminding her of the scenarios she’d come up with whenever she touched herself to the thought of Aaron Hotchner. 
“I think you only speak empty threats, you would never do such things like punishing me.” The words seemed to push him over the edge, forcing the SUV to a halt in the middle of nowhere, parked on the side of the empty road. Within seconds he had turned towards (y/n), pulling her in for a searing kiss with his palm pressed against the back of her neck. She forgot how to breathe, fully sinking into the kiss with her heart pounding in her chest and her hands finding the collar of his shirt. 
Without breaking the kiss, she climbed over the middle console, finding rest on his lap to deepen the kiss. Their tongues were tangled, fully focused on every single touch as she let her hands wander down his front to find his belt. Aaron’s big hands were resting on her thighs, palming her skin with an urgency that left her trembling. 
“Aaron,” she mumbled his name against his lips. For a moment, they broke apart, looking at one another with glassy eyes. She couldn’t stop her chuckle from rumbling through her, buzzing through (y/n) while Aaron tightened his grip on her. “Be honest with me, what is this all about?”
“I hate myself for looking at you differently, for having this selfish need to protect you and pull you away from tasks because I fear you getting hurt. It’s egotistical and stupid, but I can’t stop it. I tried not to get too close to you, because I knew from the first day you’d make me suffer. But seeing you with this guy, how he had his hands on you, it forced me to act.” She kissed him again with as much passion as her dazy self could muster. Aaron instantly responded to the kiss, allowing his hands to move once again while she shuffled closer, letting her clothed heat rub against his growing bulge. 
“I need to ride you like I was dreaming of me doing for the past months.” Aaron’s fingers danced up her thighs, pushing her damp panties aside to tease her pulsing bundle. Her moans were the sweetest sounds he had ever heard, Aaron was sure of it – sounds he’d forever remember. 
“I don’t have anything on me.” His mumbled words left her humming, drawing her away from the kiss to reach for her small bag and the condom she had been carrying around with herself. Aaron let her fumble with the package while freeing his cock, giving himself a few tugs before (y/n) rolled the condom down his length. 
With their lips pressed together once again, (y/n) sank down on his cock, groaning as he stretched her all too perfectly. Both held still for a second, letting her adjust with fluttering walls before slowly raising her hips to fuck herself on his cock. Aaron and (y/n) moaned in unison, high on the feeling of him buried inside of her and the way she could feel him oh so deep. 
“Fuck, baby.” Aaron’s head rolled back, while his hazy eyes kept watching her. His big hands supported her movements, placed on her ass to keep her close. She looked thoroughly fucked out, happy to feel him this close as they got to know one another’s body for the first time. 
(Y/n) had one of her hands pressed against the window, trying to support herself while her limbs began to quiver. Aaron seemed to pick up on her trembling, letting his hips jerk upwards to fuck into her, needing to feel her cum around his cock. Curses left them both over and over again, blending together as they lost themselves in the different sensations. 
“Feels so good, don’t ever stop, please.” She was begging for more than she could handle at that time, and yet (y/n) didn’t find it in herself to care. She didn’t mind the overstimulation she was begging for, didn’t mind the desperation dripping from her words, all she cared about was both of them cumming together. 
“I’m so close, fuck, please Aaron.” The smirk tugging on his lips made her see stars, pushing her even closer to the edge.
“Touch yourself, baby, make yourself cum for me.” That’s all she needed to hear, allowing her fingers to rub her pulsing bundle to give her the needed push. She struggled to keep her eyes open, struggled to focus on anything but her nearing orgasm, all while Aaron kept holding onto her. 
And with one last whimper, (y/n) let herself fall into her orgasm. Her walls clenched his cock, pulling him in further while he pushed himself over the edge with a few more thrusts. (Y/n) was trembling in his grasp, holding still with her forehead pressed against his broad shoulder. 
“I,” a shaky exhale left her. “I am happy this finally pushed you over, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go on with my feelings for you.” Her words left Aaron smiling, pulling her in for another kiss that left her heart fluttering. 
“You won’t ever have to worry about that again, sweetheart. I’m sorry it took me this long to realise.”
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eldritchamy · 2 months ago
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I think I've figured out a good way to articulate one of the reasons Human Domestication Guide is hitting for me in a way really not much else has done for a long time.
HDG is an inverse fandom.
Whereas a lot of fanfiction (maybe just for the sake of the pun we can expand outwards, wink, and call them "transformative works") takes at the core of its nature a specific character or group of characters, and then transplants (sorry, I had to) those characters into Alternate Universes in order to keep telling altered, revised, and original stories with those CHARACTERS, while changing everything else, HDG does the opposite.
It takes the SETTING as the core defining feature, and creates original CHARACTERS in order to tell original stories.
And that's really cool for reasons that, of course, ended up becoming another gigantic one of Amy's Patented Infodump Posts.
Most fanfiction gets to appeal to its audience because of the associations and attachments readers have for the CHARACTERS, and then create a new story from there without having to spend time setting up WHO THE STORY IS ABOUT for you. I don't say this as a bad thing, that's just the attraction. The readers bring their attachment to the characters WITH them before they start reading.
HDG gets to assume you understand the SETTING as a basic premise, and then tell new stories with original characters without having to hold your hand through as much of the set up work, because you already know the SETTING going in.
So instead of discovering how the characters you know relate to a world you don't (and to each other within that context), you get stories where you get to discover who the characters ARE, in the context of a world you already understand.
It's not "what does a different setting do to these characters." It's "how do different people navigate this setting."
You get to meet and learn and identify with the CHARACTERS because you see how they as unique people react to a set premise.
So much of what I've read so far has done exceptional work establishing who the characters are, even making MINOR characters within the story feel like fleshed out people.
You'd think in a setting that takes at face value the premise of humanity being subjugated and doted on by a species that uses mind control drugs to turn them into docile, obedient pets, the stories would struggle a bit with sameness as the individuality of the characters failed to shine through or were inevitably suppressed over the course of the plot.
In practice, it seems like almost the OPPOSITE is true.
The Affini always win. But every character chooses to lose to them in a different way that speaks to who they are as people.
Getting to explore these unique stories through the eyes of unique characters seems like it's making it EASIER to latch on to what makes THESE characters the focus of the stories being told.
And so far the stories being told are fucking great, and have such a huge range to them.
The original story for the setting is a VERY non consensual medfet/drug play subjugation story where Elvira (captain of a ship for the Free Terran feralist rebellion) is ABSOLUTELY brought into domestication by force (at first), and we get to see the PROCESS of her being broken down and becoming something new over the course of (what we later learn has been ONLY) about three weeks. She's not the same person she was at the start of the story. At all. She's been utterly replaced by a new identity and personality that the old version of her would never have accepted. (Also it's kinda hot that it's actually good for her, and that she very much DOES end up happier for it. She's still Elvira. But she's safe, and she's loved.)
That's a pretty specific vibe for a story.
But the next story I read in the setting takes place over the course of several hours in-universe, and basically follows a dysfunctional, clearly neurodivergent woman stagnating in the limbo of having been failed by capitalism (or in her mind, failing at it) and having mixed feelings about the staggeringly powerful alien civilization that is currently part way through conquering her planet and its people.
The story starts off when she's so hungry after scraping through what scant, nutritionless garbage she was able to find in the capitalist dystopia that it finally overrides her fear, and she goes to the border of Affini-controlled territory in her city. She figures, they're going to do whatever they're going to do to the rest of the city within a few days anyway, so there's no sense pretending whatever outcome she's walking into wasn't inevitable, and even if it's not as good as the Affini promise, at least it's not what she's been stuck in. Fear of sameness finally becomes more traumatic than fear of change.
She proceeds to go on an adorable lesbian grocery date with a 10 foot tall plant that gently flirts with her while remaining very firm that all of this human's needs CAN and SHOULD and WILL be taken care of FOR her from now on, and it's OKAY that she has trouble focusing because it's OKAY that some people need more help than others.
She spends several chapters experiencing repeated Lesbian Bluescreens because of this sweet, doting alien who insists it's no trouble at all and she's happy to help. Then said alien takes her back to her apartment on the human side to make sure she feels safe getting there through the anti-Affini protests, and then in a matter of minutes she has cleaned this girl's entire disaster of an apartment and promised to cook her a nice Terran pizza.
Then the girl has a lesbian panic attack while coming to terms with how much misery she didn't have to be living with, and whether this future isn't exactly what she always hoped for and more, so the alien offers to give her some alien drugs to calm her down, and her now fuzzy brain accidentally crumbles under the weight of all the secret petplay fantasies that have been turning her face red all morning and she accidentally calls the alien "Mistress", and then she goes home to THEIR place back in Affini territory with her new owner and gets absolutely spoiled until she falls asleep feeling safe and loved for the first time in her life.
COMPLETE tonal shift from the original story, but the LOGIC of the story is fully consistent with the setting. It's just a different character responding to that setting in a different way.
The range of what's possible is ENORMOUS.
I went from there to "two humans captured at different times struggle to find their way back to each other and end up with neural implants plugged into each other's brains by their shared Mistress, and the feedback loop helps them domesticate EACH OTHER" and then from there to a mostly historical context story about an Affini who lived for almost 300,000 years and how she feels about the Compact's role in everything they've done to the universe.
And then I got to read "I have to pretend to be a good little floret maid at an Affini Compact hotel because that's my Genius Spy Cover WHOOPS it turns out being a maid means getting teased and played with a lot WHOOPS, OHHhhh NOOOoo~ I'VE BEEN TURNED INTO A FREE USE HYPNO DOLL because EVERYONE KNEW I WAS A SPY THE WHOLE TIME, I'm going to resolve my mixed feelings by erotically betraying my co-conspirator so we can be floret girlfriends together," which was cute, funny, and INCREDIBLY hot.
Seriously, chapter 10 of that story. Holy FUCK. I think my brain has turned fully inside out. I had a DREAM kinda like it afterwards that I wish I could remember more of.
I guess my point is HDG is less like a fandom and more like DND.
It's a shared universe of collaborative storytelling, even if any individual work within it was made by one person.
You get to play within a core set of rules for how the setting works, but the stories that can come out of playing by those rules are so incredible and diverse and interesting, and I'm really enjoying getting to explore all of that within the context of a basic premise that has absolutely grabbed most of my kinks by the throat, stared menacingly into my eyes, and smirked knowingly.
Also it's INCREDIBLY queer and very obviously made specifically for gay autistic trans women who take progesterone, so I guess just like the rest of the little Terrans, I never stood a chance.
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ifnotlovepersevering · 17 days ago
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Down the Road (Agatha Harkness x Reader)
Summary: your summon to the Witches’ Road unexpectedly reconnects you with the witch that left you behind
Warnings: angsty, anger between R and A, fight scene, injury (A), flashback to past abandonment, R is lowkey into dark magic but in denial, lovers to hurt strangers 😔 whatever will we do
A/N: I used a few different requests in my inbox as inspo. It can also be read as a continuation of Closer. I’m planning on a part two but am open to suggestions on where to take this next! Enjoy 🖤
Tag List: @nyx-aira @crystalline-possession @clxwnnyy @lilibeth-tate @highgaytohell @amethyst-bitch @shinkomiii @agnessharknes @academiagaymess @midnight-lestrange
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A summon to the Witches’ Road seemed like exactly what you needed right now. You’d been keeping to yourself these days, staying out of trouble. But it’d been too long since you’d had some excitement and your hands were itching for something new. You were going in blind, but that’s always fun, right?
At least that’s what you’d thought. When the smoke of your white magic disappeared, you were greeted with the sight of your new ragtag coven. You counted four. Where’s the fifth?
“Hello,” you grinned at the youngest, a pale boy with dark hair. “I’m Y/N, I believe someone called?”
“Y/N? As in awesome-moon-powers-Y/N?” The boy exclaimed, grabbing the arm of the tallest one, who seemed equally excited.
You laughed. “I didn’t realize my reputation preceded me so much.”
“Are you kidding?” Now it was the tall one exclaiming. “You’re like, so cool. Incorporating the moon into your power? It makes you the jack of all trades. Healing, light manipulation, water control. I can’t believe you’re here!”
“Moon magic?” The older woman seemed sort of dazed. “I’d heard stories…but have never seen it for myself.”
Before you could respond to the group’s praise, a familiar voice rang out. “What the hell are all of you harping ab-”
You turned around at the same time as footsteps behind you halted in their tracks. You felt your heart drop as you realized why the voice was familiar. It couldn’t be.
Agatha Harkness stood in front of you in all her glory. Gone was the young witch you had known, in her place a woman exuding power and elegance. Both of you eyed each other, surprise and apprehension on your faces.
•••
Your last memory of Agatha was that smirk of hers. You two had started as rivals but a trip that you went on together changed that. You grew closer and animosity turned to friendship, which turned into something much more. So many nights of you sneaking into each other’s rooms, honing your skills, and eventually using your hands to explore each other.
On one of your many visits to the woods for spell practice, the two of you encountered a shapeshifter. You and Agatha fought it off but it forced you to use the full extent of your powers. You were young and had only just started to incorporate the moon into your witchcraft. The fight drained you completely, leaving you weak.
At home, you were checked into the infirmary. News spread quickly of the battle; Agatha, being Evanora’s daughter, caught attention easily. Her power had been a topic of dispute within the coven for some time. You resented the others for how they treated her, especially her own mother. The parts of Agatha that made them turn away were the same you admired undyingly. You loved her.
You had been drifting in and out of consciousness for hours before you finally woke up to see Agatha at your bedside. “They want a formal questioning,” she had told you softly, her hand holding yours. In response to your furrowed brow, Agatha brushed the hair from your forehead. “It’s nothing serious. I’ll be back before you know it.”
You sighed, knowing Evanora took every chance she could to hurt Agatha. “Give them hell anyway.”
“You know I will.” Agatha had smirked, and with a soft kiss, she was gone. Unbeknownst to you, it was the last time you were going to see her.
You woke up the next day, surrounded by the early morning darkness. It was eerily silent; you’d expected Agatha to be back by now. Your strength had returned, and you searched for Agatha everywhere you could think of. No one was around, every room empty.
Eventually you had come to the clearing and saw the husks of the other witches. Their bodies surrounded a post, covered in scorch marks from what you could only assume to be Agatha. You felt yourself freeze as the truth dawned on you. It was more than questions, it was a sentencing. Yet Agatha had obviously survived.
Hot tears had filled in your eyes and a lump formed in your throat before you had collapsed into sobs. She’d survived, of course she had. But she hadn’t come for you. Agatha, the girl you loved without question, whom you had embraced completely. The girl who encouraged you with your magic, the one you’d helped with controlling her own. She had left you.
Over time, the hurt faded but it never quite left. You never looked back, not at her, nor the version of you that broke that day in the clearing. You drew from the pain and let it fuel your ambition. As you travelled and your power grew, you’d heard stories about Agatha. How she’d honed those skills you’d practiced together into something to be both admired and feared. But her betrayal was enough for you to never want to seek her out again.
•••
You blinked, snapping out of your reverie.
“Y/N was the other name on the list? I can’t believe you wanted to leave her behind.” The boy’s voice piped up from behind you.
You scoffed. “Don’t be so surprised.” There was no hiding the snark in your voice, and you saw Agatha’s face drop right before you turned on your heel. “This was a mistake,” you muttered, walking away from the group to recollect yourself.
The rest of the group watched as you left. “What did she mean by that?” Alice hissed at Agatha. Everyone looked at her expectantly.
“Well,” Agatha grinned sheepishly. “We may have some…uh…unfinished business if you will.”
Jenn rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you have to make her stay. We need her to do this.”
Agatha groaned as the others nodded and nudged her towards the area you’d retreated to. But the annoyance was an act. Seeing your name on the list had stopped her in her tracks, bringing back memories she’d tried to bury. And now here you were, and she couldn’t hide from the swirl of emotions within her like she’s used to doing. Her heart still ached for you but it was unlikely you’d want anything to do with her.
She sauntered over to where you were sitting on a log by yourself. Standing close to you, she had a moment to take in your appearance. Somehow you were even more beautiful than she remembered. Time had clearly treated you well, and Agatha found her gaze catching on your features as she took in the sight of the face that haunted her memories.
She cleared her throat. “You can’t leave now that you’re here. The Road. It won’t let you.”
You looked up at her from where you sat. “You think I don’t know that?” You snapped. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew it was you.”
That stung. “Well it’s nice to see you again too, doll.” Agatha sneered.
“Oh save it, Agatha.” You stood up, eye level with the other witch. “I think we both remember who left who. Don’t play dumb now.”
“You act like I made that decision by flipping a coin. You don’t know the half of it.” The nonchalant attitude Agatha had been putting up was slipping away, revealing the raw emotion underneath.
You shook your head and turned your back to her. “Forget it. I’m already going to have to suffer through the rest of this thing anyway. I don’t need some shitty explanation from you.”
But Agatha wasn’t one to take that for an answer. She grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn back and face her. “No,” she hissed. “You don’t get to do what they did. Don’t repaint me as callous because I was never like that with you.”
You clenched your jaw, feeling a lump forming at the back of your throat. You couldn’t help it - the hurt you’d buried for this long was coming back up, and it was as sharp as the day it’d arrived.
“Callous?” You laughed humourlessly. “No, leaving me behind wasn’t callous. It was cruel. You’re cruel.”
You could see Agatha’s cheeks flushed in anger, and her mouth opened with another rebuttal when a shriek rang through the air back where the rest of the coven was standing. Both of you jumped, and Agatha dropped your arm.
“What the hell was that?” You shouted at Agatha over the shrieks, which had grown louder.
“Salem Seven ring a bell?” Agatha snarked, but her eyes were filled with fear.
“What the fuck, Agatha.” You all but yelled as the two of you began running back. Somehow you’d never encountered any of the Seven before but that didn’t mean you wanted to start now. They were definitely pissed at Agatha, but it was unlikely that they were happy with you either, as the only other survivor of their mothers’ massacre.
The shrieks were coming from both the coven and a dark, hooded figure who you assumed was one of the Seven floating above them. “Run!” The boy screamed, and everyone began sprinting down the road.
Suddenly you heard Agatha cry out and a thud. You turned to see Agatha on the ground, the hooded figure hovering over her. You stared incredulously as Agatha put her arms up to shield herself, but made no other move to put up a defence. What is she doing?
The Salem Seven witch lunged towards Agatha and you quickly shot a beam at her, making her fall to the ground. As you ran over, you saw the witch was already stirring, not quite dead yet. You began reciting a spell that’d become second nature for you now, your hands falling into the familiar motions.
Agatha watched in awe as you drew the many surrounding shadows towards the figure on the ground. You made a sharp movement with your hand and suddenly the figure that was beginning to rise from the ground was being surrounded by dark tendrils.
Muffled screams could be heard as the shadows twisted tighter and tighter, until the figure fell limp to the ground. You weren’t done, however. Another practiced movement of your hands and you watched as the shadows engulfed the witch, dragging her downwards into the ground until she disappeared like vapour.
With the threat gone, you rushed to Agatha’s side. You could see a gash on her arm where her sleeve had torn, blood seeping out of the wound. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you fight back?” Anger mixed with worry as you searched Agatha’s face for answers.
“Careful there, Y/N. Wouldn’t want to look like you care.” When you didn’t indulge her teasing, the other witch sighed. “Why do you think I’m here?” She asked, gesturing around her. She saw the confusion in your face and waved her hand dismissively. “Long story doll, I won’t bore you.”
Typical. Even all those years ago Agatha would opt to keep you in the dark rather than explain herself. “Fine.” You said, helping her stand. “Let’s find somewhere to sit so I can patch you up.”
You turned to see the rest of the group standing nearby, a mixture of awe and apprehension across their faces. The boy seemed the most awestruck. “How did you do that?” He exclaimed. “Where did she go?”
The oldest of the group spoke before you could. “The shadow realm.” She answered, eyeing you warily. “No one should be doing that.”
“Why don’t we um, find a place to sleep? While Y/N takes care of Agatha.” The tall one spoke now, gesturing for the rest of the group to follow her and leave you and Agatha alone. You watched as they hurried away, the short one throwing a worried glance back at you.
“So, shadow work huh?” Agatha spoke lowly as you examined her arm. “Didn’t realize you’d begun dabbling in my side of things.” Her tone was playful but probing.
You turned your head sharply towards her. “I haven’t. It’s not the same thing.”
Agatha chuckled darkly. “Oh isn’t it? Don’t get so high and mighty now Y/N. I’ve heard things. That good girl persona of yours may be working on everyone else, but not me.”
You didn’t answer, instead pulling her arm into the moonlight coming in through the trees. At your silence, Agatha kept going. “‘Oh wow! Moon girl is so amazing and talented! She can do anything!’” She said mockingly. “All admiration when you’re doing what they like. But you saw the look on their faces just now. Everybody switches up when we start talking real power. The kind you and I have.”
Okay yes, you could admit that the shadow stuff is a bit iffy. But it wasn’t anywhere close to as iffy as using the Darkhold, like you’d heard Agatha did. That was different.
“All I’m saying,” Agatha continued, as she watched you weave the light with your hands to heal her open wound. “Is that we’re much bigger than them. Than this. We’re destined for domination, Y/N.”
You shook your head. Years later and it was still all about power with her. Grand plans and limited following-through were classic Agatha. Enough. You stood up, Agatha’s arm now healed. “You’re talking about powers you had, and that I have.” You said coldly, taking satisfaction in the way her jaw clenched at your words. “Maybe focus on getting those back first.”
With that, you turned on your heel and stormed away.
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ameliathornromance · 10 months ago
Text
A Whole New World - Short Orc Romance
- When your Orc found you, you were in your Church with your other sisters of the cloth.
- They all prayed to the Gods.
- Gods that they wished would come, strike down these beasts who threatened your lives.
- The Church doors were difficult to get open, but your Orc did it. The doors burst off the hinges, crashed into the pews.
-Your sisters all took off running, leaving you behind.
- You tried to follow, but ended up tripping over your robes, falling on your front.
- Your Orc stormed towards you.
- You try to scramble away, desperate to escape your oncoming death, but it was no use.
- He was too big, too quick.
- You close your eyes, expecting a bludgeoning with that horrifying club he had clutched in his hand. You raise your hands above your head and cower for your life.
- Any moment now, any second now, he is going to bring that club down on your head.
- But nothing came.
“They left you.”
You squint open your eyes. Between your arms, you stare at him. His expression pained, his endless black eyes staring at you with… sympathy? You couldn’t understand what you were seeing; An orc, sympathetic?
The club slips from his hand, landing on the floor with a loud thud. Stooping to one knee, he bends down to your height. “Those who you called sisters have abandoned you.”
You dare to look around. Hoping to see a sister who was hiding behind the altar, a pillar, or anywhere. With some kind of weapon in hand, anything to help you get out of this situation alive. But it was barren. Empty of any kind of life whom had been begging for salvation.
He was right. They had. “To escape you, you who would kill me for praying for your death.” You hiss back at him. You didn’t dare believe him, wanted to retreat back into the collective opinion about Orcs. But it was too obvious to ignore his logic.
The words were harsh and sharp, the Orc did not flinch. “And who is here for you, now that I have come to take the lives of your people? Your Gods? Who you pray to, but have done nothing to protect you or your people from the raid of my brethren? Did not even force a fellow sister to stay and share in your fate, so that you would not have to go into the night alone?”
The words rang through you like the Church bell at the top of the steeple. Rooted you to the ground, the world you had built to protect yourself from the truth, crashed and burned. You couldn’t deny that he was wrong. Your so-called ‘sisters’ had abandoned you. Left you here at the mercy of this monster, not one of them had turned to try and help you back up.
A sigh escapes the Orc. “In our ranks,” he says, “we do not abandon our own.” The hand that held the club outstretches toward you. “Come. No one deserves to left alone.”
Anger had risen, spiteful and raging within your very soul. At that moment, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, the Orc was right. Your mind drifts back to what the Church had taught you about them, the Orcs. That they were monsters, born from the core of the Earth. Where Magma bubbled and boiled, where nothing should be able to survive. How your Church commanded that your sisters swear loyalty to one another. To protect each other and Holy Ground from defamation of the filth that rose from the Earth. To do it together. To die together, if it came to it.
The Gods had abandoned you and your sisters had left you. You gave your life for Gods who did not care.
This Orc, monster of the deep Earth, had shown you more decency in that moment. Than Gods or humans had done in the time you had been at the Church. Spite riddles through you. You take his calloused, rough hand.
- Travelling in an Orc caravan was not easy. They were loud, smelly and stupid. All except the Orc who had come for you.
- He was quiet, preferred to watch his others fight, drink and be rowdy with one another.
- At first, the rest of the group had ostracised you. “Humans are no good.” They would snarl. “Weak and useless.” But, after repairing a few of their clothes and cooking meals, they warmed up to you.
- They were kind to you... In their own way. Like the time when they left a whole dead sheeps’ carcass in your tent. The note left with it read: “For dinner this eve. Make or else.” Panicked, you went to find your Orc friend, who explained that this wasn't a threat. Far from it, as a matter of fact.
- They spoke to you that way because they spoke to their own like that.
- "My bretheren see you as one of us now." Rovi - the name of your Orc friend - explained.
“They’re quite the group.” You observe. You had thrown out your robes as soon as you could and replaced them with something that was far from Holy. Trousers and tunic that you had sewed together yourself and hair let down to your waist.
“Indeed.” Rovi agrees. He slurps the rest of the soup from his bowl. Fire crackles in the fire pit, the nights sky blankets the whole group of Orcs who proceed to play fight and snarl. This was apparently, a common pass time for Orcs, who beat the living snot out of each other as a show of comradery. “They will never hurt each other though.” Rovi assures you, putting the bowl beside himself. “We do not do that, unlike humans who abandon their own, kill their friends and steal for survival.”
You did not judge his impression of humans. Surely, you’d feel the same way too if a bunch of humans started chasing after you, desperate for your head. One thing, you could not understand for the life of you, was why Rovi had taken you in. Despite his obvious dislike for humans, he still offered you a place in his camp. Maybe It was as simple as he said: “No one deserves to left alone.”
Biting your lip, you tell him, “thank you for inviting me into your camp.” You meant it. If it weren’t for him, you would still be slaving away for Gods who had no interest in you.
Your Orc huffs, “better than being with humans who abandon their own.” He looks away from you. Back to the jeering crowd of his fellows, watching them clasp each others hands and pat each other on the back. A show of congratulations on a good fight.
- Your romance with him started when there was when you returned to your own tent.
- On your bed, was a small pouch of gold.
- Being in an Orc camp, you observed their customs and cultures. Often, when courting others, they would leave a small bag of gold in their crushes living quarters. A sweet, but simple gesture. Orcs loved their gold, even if they did not flaunt it. To do so was, frowned upon and compared to the Lords who wore those stupid puffy trousers and powdered tall wigs.
- You did not know who the pouch had come from, but you immediately thought that your Orc friend had been the one to do it. But you had to double check. And so you would gauge his reaction to it.
“Look!” You rushed over to him. Waving the bag of gold up to him, you beamed, “someone likes me! I found it on my bed when I got back from washing in the river!”
Rovi, returning from a hunt and carrying a, poor dead stag on his back, looked at you, then the open bag, gold glittering in the sunlight. “Was there a note?” He asked you, dropping it to the ground.
The rest of the hunting party grumbled annoyances at him, dragging the meat away. Rovi ignored them.
“No, there was just this bag. I wonder who it could be!” Your eyes dart across the camp, looking to the cooks, who were now busy skinning the stag, to other Orcs who were busy tending to a fire and talking in their mother tongue and to those who were busy trying to read from tiny human books they stole from villages.
“Best not to think about it,” Your Orc mutters. “Small pouch of gold like that? They can’t be that interested in you.” And with that, he lumbers off.
You frown. You thought for sure it would be him. His reaction made your heart sink in your chest. Sighing, you walk back to your tent, tossing the small bag onto your desk and clambering onto your bed. You sigh. If it was not him, then who could it be?
Unfortunately, you had noted that there was a fair amount of guess work that had to happen when it came to this as well. Usually, it went over well – the admired knew who their admirer was, and they got together. But, in rare instances, where the admired got their guess wrong: The admirer would challenge the guessed person to combat and they would fight. Not a play fight. An actual battle.
It was rare, but not rare enough to avoid being discussed by the rest of the camp. You had never seen one yourself, and if you could, you’d like to avoid it at all costs. You like everyone in the camp, care about them all , you didn’t want anyone to get hurt. One had to assume, that if two Orcs vied for the same person... You didn't want to think about that.
- You had thought long and hard about who it could be. You had become close with everyone in the camp, it wasn’t like there was anyone who stuck out to you.
- Truth be told, disappointment stirred in your gut.
- You had hoped that it would Rovi who had been the one to give you that pouch. He was kind and caring, even if he was a bit rough around the edges. He gave you a whole new life, it seemed almost right that you would fall for him. After he was able to show you the rest of the world, when you may have stayed with the Church for the rest of your days.
- The next day, you went to go and do what you had to do by the river, coming back to your tent and your jaw dropping.
A pouch – you couldn’t even call it that – a sack full of gold had spilled out onto the floor in your tent. You wondered if you’d gone mad. Startling you, a cheer erupted from outside your tent. What the Hell is going on?!
You ran out and into the main area, where a ring of tall, hulking Orcs had formed. You stood on tip-toes, jumped to try and get a look at the brawl that had just started, but had to resolve to pushing your way through the rambunctious crowd. Once the other Orcs realize who it was trying to get through, they bark at their others: “Get out of the way! Let (Y/N) through! It about her after all!”
About you? More desperate now, you finally found your way to the edge of the ring just in time to see Rovi swing a right hook, directly into the jaw of his other. The other Orc goes flying, his landing in front of you sent shudders through the floor. You recognise him immediately as Barrow, a chef who you often spent time with in the kitchens. He was an Orc of very little brains, but he made a mean rabbit stew. He made some inappropriate jokes to you occasionally, but apart from that, he kept mostly to himself.
“That’s all you offer?!” Rovi roars, “pathetic!”
Barrow was out cold, your Orc friend’s chest heaving up and down. “What’s going on?!” You shout over the jeering Orc crowd.
Rovi’s face, goes from a furious, angry scowl, to soft at the sight of you. Rather harshly, he kicks Barrow out of the way and kneels down to your height. “I’m afraid I haven’t been up front with you,” he begins.
The rest of the Orcs are still watching, but now quiet. Your ears rang with the silence, so used to their loud and obnoxious shouting that it was unsettling to hear silence.
“I know that humans are more upfront with their courting practices so allow me to conform to your culture… And I couldn’t allow Barrow to offer you something so insignificant and small as one pouch of gold… So... Would you be mine, (Y/N)?”
Stunned into silence, you bit your lip. Smiling, you ask, “so the extra large sack of gold was you?”
Rovi grumbles and looks away from, a small dusting tinge dusting his orc green cheeks. “Well, I had to do something…” He mumbles. “I had to do something to show you I am superior… if this one hadn’t beaten me to it.” He shoots another dirty look at Barrow, who seems to have awoken in a daze. “The combat was necessary to tell him to back off.”
“I think the gold was more than enough.” You wrap your arms around his muscular shoulders and pull him close. “Thank you for everything, Rovi.”
He freezes for a moment and then returns your gesture, holding you tenderly in that moment. The both of you don’t even hear the crowd of Orcs erupting with cheers and shouts of happiness.
It’s just the two of you. And that’s all that matters in that moment.
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elryuse · 4 months ago
Text
I'm sorry, Can I Be Yours
Winter X Male Reader
Tags : Childhood Friends, Friends To Lovers, Kiss, Teasing, Fluff, Virgin Sex, Creampie, Good Ending?
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The School bell blared, jolting me out of my reverie. I scanned the emptying hallway, searching for Winter's familiar pearly blonde hair. My stomach clenched when I spotted her surrounded by her posse, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Winter, the girl who used to chase butterflies with me at recess, now seemed like a distant star, dazzling yet untouchable.
It wasn't always like this. Back in elementary school, Winter, or Minjeong as I called her then, was the new kid, a shy sparrow adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces. I, the self-proclaimed schoolyard ambassador, had swooped in, determined to be her friend. We were an unlikely pair – me, the rambunctious chatterbox, and her, the quiet observer with eyes that held galaxies within them. But somehow, it clicked. We built sandcastles that defied the tide, shared scraped knees and ice cream cones, our laughter echoing through the playground.
High school, however, had cast a long shadow over our friendship. Winter blossomed into an ethereal beauty, her smile lighting up every room she entered. Admirers swarmed around her like bees to a rose, and her schedule became a whirlwind of student council meetings, dance practices, and social gatherings. I, on the other hand, remained comfortably obscure, content with the company of my camera and a well-worn book.
The distance wasn't physical, not yet. We still sat together at lunch, a forced routine amidst the chaos. But the easy conversations, the comfortable silences, those had become a distant memory. Now, an awkward tension hung between us, a chasm filled with unspoken words and longing glances that pierced my heart.
One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter was surrounded by her usual crowd, their voices a flurry of excitement about the upcoming school festival. I stole a glance at her, my heart sinking at the coldness in her eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that used to reside there.
"Hey, Winter," I began hesitantly, my voice barely a whisper above the din. "They were talking about volunteers for the photography booth at the festival. You know I take a decent picture or two."
A flicker of something, maybe annoyance, crossed her features before she schooled her expression into a polite smile.
"Oh, right," she said, her voice devoid of its usual enthusiasm. "Yeah, maybe you can help out. Hana mentioned you were good with that camera of yours."
The casual dismissal stung. Hana? We hadn't discussed the festival, and the way Winter phrased it made it seem like it was Hana's idea, not mine. I forced a smile, the bitterness clinging to my tongue.
"Sure," I mumbled, pushing my untouched lunch tray away. "Just let me know what needs to be done."
The rest of the lunch break passed in a blur of forced conversation and stolen glances. As the final bell rang, I gathered my things, the weight of our strained friendship heavy on my chest. Winter barely acknowledged me as she swept out of the classroom, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty. Was this the end of our story? The question echoed in the empty classroom, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between us.
The following week, a new face appeared in our homeroom class. A girl with long, flowing black hair and a face that could launch a thousand ships, but her posture screamed timidity. She shuffled in, her eyes downcast, avoiding eye contact with the sea of curious faces. The usual welcoming chatter died down, replaced by a tense silence.
As the teacher droned on about expectations and school policies, I couldn't help but steal glances at the new girl. Her name was Lee Seo-Ah, according to the attendance sheet. Unlike Winter, who captivated the room with her mere presence, Seo-Ah seemed to shrink into herself, disappearing into the background.
A pang of sympathy stabbed at my heart. I remembered all too well the awkwardness of being the new kid, the crushing loneliness of trying to navigate unfamiliar territory. Winter, once the shy newcomer, had effortlessly blossomed into the center of attention. Seo-Ah, on the other hand, seemed trapped in a shell of her own making.
When the bell rang, signaling the end of the class, the usual flurry of introductions and small talk began. But Seo-Ah remained isolated, a solitary island amidst a bustling sea. I couldn't just stand by and watch.
Taking a deep breath, I approached her desk, my heart pounding a nervous rhythm against my ribs. "Hi, I'm Y/n," I said, offering a friendly smile. "Welcome to our school."
Seo-Ah looked up, startled, her eyes wide and filled with a flicker of surprise. For a moment, she didn't speak, then a shy smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
"H-hi," she finally mumbled, her voice barely a whisper. "I'm Seo-Ah. It's... nice to meet you."
Her shyness was endearing, a stark contrast to the usual boisterousness of the classroom. "Seems like you're new here," I continued, hoping to ease the tension. "Anything I can help you with?"
Seo-Ah hesitated, then bit her lip. "Well, I'm a bit lost. I don't know where my next class is."
Relief washed over me. "No problem at all. I have the same class next. Let me show you the way."
As we walked down the hallway, Seo-Ah spoke in hushed tones, her words punctuated by long pauses. She told me she was from Busan, a coastal city known for its seafood and beaches. She loved art, particularly painting, but was too shy to join any clubs.
I listened intently, offering words of encouragement and pointing out landmarks along the way. To my surprise, Seo-Ah slowly began to open up, her voice gaining a hint of confidence. By the time we reached her next class, a hesitant smile played on her lips.
"Thanks, Y/n," she said, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I don't know what I would have done without you."
"No worries at all," I replied, a genuine warmth spreading through my chest. "Welcome to the group, Seo-Ah."
Perhaps, in helping Seo-Ah find her way, I had also found a way to bridge the growing distance between myself and Winter. After all, kindness, like a pebble tossed into a still pond, could create ripples that reached far and wide.
A couple of weeks flew by in a whirlwind of activity. During lunch breaks, I found myself gravitating towards Seo-Ah, her infectious laugh and bubbly personality a welcome change from the strained atmosphere I shared with Winter. We'd discuss everything under the sun – from her passion for painting to the latest K-pop group she was obsessed with. Slowly, her shyness melted away, replaced by a comfortable openness.
One afternoon, at the usual lunch table, Winter caught me engrossed in a conversation with Seo-Ah. Her expression was unreadable, but a flicker of something, maybe jealousy, crossed her features for a fleeting moment before she masked it with a polite smile.
"Looks like you've made a new friend, Y/n," she said, her voice cool and detached.
"Y-yeah," I replied, trying to keep the awkwardness at bay. "Seo-Ah just transferred from Busan. We get along pretty well."
Winter simply nodded, her gaze lingering on Seo-Ah for a beat too long before she turned away to continue her conversation with Hana. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a stark contrast to the easy banter I shared with Seo-Ah.
During that week, I discovered another one of Seo-Ah's talents. While helping her unpack her art supplies after school, she pulled out a sketchbook filled with breathtaking landscapes and portraits. My jaw dropped in awe.
"Wow, Seo-Ah, these are amazing!" I exclaimed, flipping through the pages. "You're incredibly talented."
Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "Thanks, Y/n. I actually joined the art club this week. They seemed really nice."
A surge of excitement coursed through me. "That's fantastic! Maybe we can even work on some projects together sometime. I'm in the photography club, and we're always looking for new angles and perspectives."
Her eyes lit up. "R-really? That sounds awesome!"
Over the next few days, Seo-Ah and I spent our free time bouncing ideas off each other. We'd discuss light and shadow, composition, and the emotions a photograph or painting could evoke. With her, there was none of the awkward silences or unspoken expectations that had infiltrated my relationship with Winter. It felt… easy, comfortable.
Meanwhile, the distance between Winter and me continued to widen. Our conversations were short and superficial, filled with long pauses and forced smiles. I missed our late-afternoon talks, the way we could just sit in comfortable silence, knowing each other's thoughts without needing to speak them. But Winter was a whirlwind of student council meetings and social gatherings now, leaving me feeling like an outsider peering into a world I no longer belonged to.
One Friday afternoon, while Seo-Ah and I were discussing camera settings in the library, Winter approached our table, her face etched with a forced smile.
"Hey, Y/n," she said, her voice clipped. "Just wanted to let you know there's a student council meeting this evening. You're… welcome to join."
Her words felt like an afterthought, an obligation rather than an invitation. Seo-Ah, sensing the tension, chimed in.
"Oh, a student council meeting? That sounds important. You should definitely go, Y/n."
Winter's smile faltered for a second, then she straightened her shoulders. "Yeah, sure," she said, her gaze flickering to Seo-Ah before darting away. "See you guys later."
As she walked away, a knot of frustration tightened in my stomach. Was I missing something here? Did Winter feel threatened by Seo-Ah's presence? Or was it simply a case of her being too busy with her own things to acknowledge our dwindling friendship?
Stepping into the student council meeting room felt like entering a different world. The air crackled with nervous energy, students flitting around finalizing decorations and posters. Minjeong, usually radiating icy efficiency, seemed to have a vibrant life of her own here. Her voice, sharp and clear as she addressed the room, held an undeniable power.
I found myself an empty chair at the back, feeling strangely out of place amidst all the organized chaos. The topic of the meeting – the upcoming school fireworks festival – was a whirlwind of budgets, logistics, and safety regulations. Hana, Minjeong's ever-reliable vice president, rattled off numbers with laser focus, while Minjeong herself managed the discussion with a firm but encouraging demeanor.
As the meeting progressed, I stole glances at Minjeong. The fierce, focused leader I witnessed was so different from the quiet girl who had been my best friend. A pang of longing crossed my chest for those simpler times. Then, our eyes met.
Caught off guard, Minjeong's gaze flickered for a moment before she looked away, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks. A shy smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a fleeting glimpse of the girl I knew beneath the student council president facade. The warmth of that smile sent a jolt through me. Was there still hope for us?
Suddenly, Hana's voice cut through my contemplation. "So, who's up for grabbing some pizza after this? We've still got hours of work to do before the week's out."
A chorus of groans and cheers filled the room. Minjeong chuckled, a soft sound that seemed foreign on her focused face. "Sounds good, Hana. But make it quick, alright? We don't want to be here all night."
As the meeting wrapped up, the room buzzed with newfound energy. Students piled into a corner, chatting excitedly about pizza toppings and movie plans. I hesitated, unsure of my place in this world.
"Y/n?" Minjeong's voice caught my attention. She stood at the front of the room, her gaze hesitant but inviting. "You coming to pizza night?"
The question hung in the air, a test of the fragile thread that still connected us. My heart pounded in my chest. This could be a step forward, a chance to bridge the gap that had grown between us. Or it could be a painful reminder of how far things had changed.
I looked at Minjeong, her eyes filled with a nervous anticipation that mirrored my own. Taking a deep breath, I offered a smile, the same shy smile we used to share in elementary school.
"Yeah," I replied, my voice a little rough around the edges. "I'd like that."
A genuine smile, bright and unreserved, broke across Minjeong's face. It was a small step, a single word in a long conversation, but for the first time in weeks, a flicker of hope ignited within me. Perhaps, amidst the chaos of student council meetings and new friendships, there was still a place for us, for the bond we once shared.
Stepping into the bustling pizza parlor, I was greeted by the aroma of melted cheese and bubbling tomato sauce. Minjeong's friends, a vibrant bunch I only recognized from school hallways, were already digging into their slices, their laughter a welcome counterpoint to the tense atmosphere of the meeting earlier.
Minjeong, perched at the end of a long table, her cheeks flushed with a hint of nervous excitement, spotted me. A radiant smile broke across her face, chasing away the serious leader persona from before. She patted the seat next to her, a silent invitation.
As I settled in, a chorus of curious glances and playful nudges fell upon me. A girl with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin leaned forward.
"So, Y/n," she began, her voice dripping with friendly interrogation, "how long have you known our Minjeong? Spill the secrets of your epic friendship!"
A wave of heat flooded Minjeong's cheeks, her cheeks turning the color of the pepperoni slices on the table. She mumbled something inaudible under her breath, burying her face in her pizza slice. I chuckled, the sound warming the air.
"Well Actually," I said, taking a bite of my own pizza, "we go way back. All the way back to elementary school."
A collective gasp escaped the group. Stories of elementary school crushes and childhood sweethearts circulated with wide-eyed wonder. Seeing Minjeong squirm under the spotlight only endeared her to me even more.
"She was this shy little thing," I continued, my voice filled with a smile, "always hiding behind her art folders. I just decided she needed a friend and dragged her into all sorts of adventures."
Minjeong peeked at me over her pizza slice, her eyes wide and filled with a mixture of shyness and amusement. My heart stuttered in my chest. Even after all this time, her gaze still held the power to send butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
"And did those adventures include falling head over heels for each other?" one of the guys piped up, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
The question hung heavy in the air. A long silence stretched, broken only by the clinking of silverware and the murmur of conversation. I met Minjeong's gaze, a silent conversation unfolding between us.
"I…," I hesitated, taking a deep breath. "The truth is, Minjeong has always been special to me. Ever since that first day in elementary school, there was something about her. Her quiet strength, her kindness, her way of seeing the world through those incredible eyes."
Minjeong's entire face turned crimson, her lips forming a silent "wow." The rest of the table, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, remained silent, their eyes shifting between us with anticipation.
"And you, Y/n?" Minjeong finally managed to whisper, her voice barely audible. "Do you still feel the same way?"
"More than you know," I said, my voice sincere. "Seeing you all grown up, this amazing leader everyone admires… it just makes me realize how much I care about you."
The moment stretched, charged with unspoken emotions. Then, with a roar of approval, Minjeong's friends erupted in cheers.
"Oh my god, you guys are perfect for each other!"
"Finally! It was about time someone confessed!"
Minjeong, overwhelmed by the sudden outburst, hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with a mixture of shyness and laughter. My own heart pounded with a mixture of hope and disbelief. Could this really be happening?
As the cheers subsided, a shy smile peeked out from behind Minjeong's hands. Looking at me, her eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. Was it fear? Joy? Relief?
"Well, Y/n," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It seems like you spilled the biggest secret of all."
I grinned, leaning closer. "Only the one I felt was most important."
The rest of the night was a blur of happy chatter, shared stories, and stolen glances. The seeds of doubt I'd harbored for weeks began to fade, replaced by a warm flicker of hope. Perhaps, amidst the changing tides of high school, our childhood connection could blossom into something more. As we walked home under the soft glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between us, a silence that spoke volumes more than words ever could. Maybe, just maybe, our story wasn't over yet.
As we strolled away from the pizza parlor, the streetlights cast soft yellow pools on the sidewalk. The air was thick with the unspoken words that hung between us. Finally, Minjeong broke the silence, her voice barely a whisper.
"Y/n," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "Do you… hate me?"
The question struck me like a physical blow. Hate her? The girl who had been my closest companion, my confidante? It was a ridiculous notion.
"Why would I hate you?" I asked gently, my voice laced with concern.
"For everything," she mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. "For how I treated you these past three years. For being so cold and distant."
I stopped walking, turning to face her. Minjeong's face was illuminated by the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Minjeong-Ah, listen to me," I said, cupping her face in my hands. "You were focused on school, student council, all those responsibilities. It's natural. You've become this amazing leader, kind and strong. I could never hate you for that."
She shook her head, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek. "But you must have felt so alone. Like I replaced you."
"It wasn't like that," I assured her, wiping away the stray tear with my thumb. "It just… it's a shame we drifted apart. I miss the talks we used to have, the silly jokes, the shared dreams."
A sob escaped her lips, and she buried her face in my chest. Tears soaked through my shirt as she held onto me for dear life.
"I'm so sorry, Y/n," she cried, her voice muffled against my chest. "I'm such an idiot. Seo-Ah is great, and I'm happy she has a friend, but… but you're different. You've always been different."
My heart ached for her, for the pain she had unknowingly inflicted. "Seo-Ah's a friend," I said, stroking her hair soothingly. "But you, Minjeong… you're so much more."
She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "More?"
"We grew up together," I continued, my voice soft. "We shared secrets, dreams, a lifetime of memories. Seo-Ah may be a new chapter, but you… you're the whole book."
Tears streamed down her face, each one a silent apology. "I-i messed up," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "The thought of losing you to someone else… it scared me to death. But I was too scared to admit it, too scared to even talk to you."
Understanding dawned on me. Her coldness, her distance, it was all a misguided attempt to protect herself from the possibility of losing our bond. The irony wasn't lost on me – her actions had almost achieved the very outcome she feared.
Enfolding her in a hug once more, I whispered into her hair, "It's okay, Minjeong. We can start over. Together."
Her body trembled against mine, a mixture of relief and hope washing over her. The night was filled with apologies, whispered confessions, and the bittersweet promise of a new beginning. We walked hand in hand, not as childhood friends, but as something more, something that transcended labels. We walked, not just towards her house, but towards a future we would write together, a future where communication replaced silence, and where the warmth of our friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful.
The walk to Minjeong's house felt different under the soft glow of the streetlights. The air, once thick with unspoken words, now crackled with a nervous energy, a budding promise. As we reached her doorstep, the weight of the emotional rollercoaster we'd just been on settled in.
Minjeong, sniffling and wiping away the last of her tears, looked at me with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. "Would you… would you like to stay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Staying the night at her place felt like venturing into uncharted territory. Was it too soon? Yet, the thought of leaving her on such a vulnerable note felt unbearable.
"I… I don't know," I stammered, unsure of the protocol for such a situation.
Tears welled up in her eyes again, threatening to spill over. "Please, Y/n," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be alone tonight."
My resolve crumbled. How could I say no to those tear-filled eyes, to the raw vulnerability she was displaying? "Okay," I sighed, offering her a weak smile. "I'll stay."
Relief washed over her face, a radiant smile replacing the tear tracks. She fumbled with her keys, finally unlocking the door and ushering me inside.
The familiar scent of her home, a mixture of lavender and something vaguely sweet, instantly transported me back to our childhood sleepovers. As I entered her bedroom, the floodgates of nostalgia opened.
The walls were adorned with a tapestry of our shared history – a photo of us grinning goofily at a carnival, a drawing we'd made together during a rainy afternoon, a faded ticket stub from that time we snuck into a movie. Every picture, every memento, whispered of a friendship that had weathered storms, unspoken yet understood.
A choked sob escaped Minjeong's lips as she noticed my gaze tracing the memories on the wall. "It's… it's like a museum in here," she sniffled, a shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
I walked over to her, my heart overflowing with a cocktail of emotions. "It's beautiful," I whispered, reaching out to touch a photo of us on our first day of elementary school. "A reminder of everything we've been through."
Minjeong's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. As if making a sudden decision, she began to slowly undress, her movements filled with a nervous anticipation.
Shock momentarily paralyzed me. "Minjeong-Ah?" I stammered, unsure of how to interpret her actions.
She looked at me, her eyes shimmering with a newfound courage. "Y/n," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "I know this might seem crazy, but… all this time, all I ever wanted was you."
The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken desires. Before I could respond, she leaned in, hesitantly at first, then with a growing sense of urgency. Her lips met mine in a kiss that was both tentative and filled with a desperate longing.
It was a kiss that tasted of tearful apologies, unspoken confessions, and the bittersweet joy of a rekindled connection. In that kiss, we bridged the gap of lost years, the unspoken words replaced by a silent promise of a future we would write together.
Pulling away, breathless and a little dazed, we stared into each other's eyes. They held a newfound depth, a reflection of the emotions we had shared.
"Minjeong-Ah," I finally managed to breathe, my voice thick with emotion. "I… I thought I'd lost you."
"Me too," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again, but this time, they were tears of joy. "But we're here now, Y/n. And this time," she continued, a determined glint in her eyes, "I'm not letting go."
Hearing those words, I immediately kissed her again. This time with so much passion and hunger to love her even more. minjeong share to play with my tounge,Something that I didn't know she would ever learned.
"M-minjeong-Ah.. You're so pretty". I blurted out, My words of praise basically flies out on its own. Minjeong blushes, Before planting another kiss to my lips. Her soft and plump lips, a cushion to my own.
"I-i want to try it... I-i want to do it with you Y/n". Minjeong blushes, Her hands touching the entrance of her now wet pussy. I blushed deeply, Not expecting that we'll come this far.
But I now know, that we are meant for each other. We both loved each other. I promised, I would never let her down anymore. I would love her with all of my heart.
"I-i'm putting it in Minjeong-Ah. Tell me if it hurts okay"? I gently caresses her face. As I started to slowly thrust my dick into her pussy, Minjeong immediately moaned, Her body trembling, as her hole started to widen, and not long after that. I have successfully inserted my whole dick deep into her pussy. As her hymen broke, Blood soon come out. I panicked, Asking Minjeong if she's alright.
She seemed to be trembling, and crying. I tried to pull back. But minjeong yelled "Noo.. Don't pull it out... I-i can handle it".
I hesitated, I didn't want this experience to hurt her. I explained it to her, that she doesn't need to force herself, and we can take it slowly. But to my suprise, Minjeong push me back, before straddling me.
"No.. No.. I want this.. I need this... Please don't leave me Y/n... I can handle this.. So please... caressing my face let me pleasure you". I immediately blushed hearing those words coming from her mouth. In the end I nodded, Letting her know I'll do it.
Minjeong started to move her hips slowly, Adjusting to the pain and pleasure that her body is currently having. And after a while, She finally found her pace and started to move faster and faster. We both moaned at how good this feels, And I just can't help but to admire her fit body, and her beautiful pair of tits.
"I-i know it's not the biggest... B-but.. Please love them". Minjeong blushes, as she turns her head around. I giggled before planting a kiss to her tits. Admiring them for how perfect they were. Mineong immediately smiled, Before planting another kiss to my lips.
After a while, I felt like I was near to reach my orgasm. As I saw Minjeong Continue swaying her hips, Something took over me and I gently put Minjeong into a missionary position. Minjeong legs immediately craddled surrounding my body, as her legs tightened. Her hand gripped the back of my body, As I kept on kissing her heck.
"Y/n!!! Y/n.. I'm close.. Fuck.. I'm so close..". Minjeong cried, as The pleasure was too much for the both of us. I told her that I'm also close.
"Shoot it inside me... I-it's okay... I want it..".
"W-whatt! No we can't... It's too dangerous minjeong... I'll shoot it outside".
"Noooo.. Please... I want your cum... Please... ".
As minjeong kept begging, and as I closely reached my limit. I can't help but to shoot my seed deep within her womb. As I did this, Minjeong moaned and tightly held me. Our body trembled in pleasure, and we finally reached our euphoria together.
After panting a while, We both Chukled before kissing each other for the last time, as we finally fell asleep. We held each other close, our bodies radiating a warmth that chased away the chill of the night. The room filled with the sound of our gentle breaths and the soft thudding of our hearts, a symphony of rediscovered love and a promise of a future where childhood friendship could finally blossom into something beautiful and everlasting.
Sunlight streamed through the window, painting golden stripes across Minjeong's face. She stirred, a sleepy smile curving her lips. Glancing beside her, she found me still nestled in the sheets, the events of last night replaying vividly in her mind. A blush crept up her cheeks as she remembered the passionate confessions and rekindled love that had blossomed under her very roof.
"Y/n," she whispered, nudging me gently. "Time to wake up. We don't want to be late for school."
I groaned playfully, pulling the covers over my head for a moment longer. "Five more minutes?" I mumbled, the warmth of the sheets and the memory of Minjeong close beside me making it hard to leave.
She chuckled, a sound like wind chimes dancing in a summer breeze. "Not a chance, sleepyhead. We have a whole day of classes and stolen glances ahead of us."
Her words were a sweet melody to my ears. Sitting up, I stretched, my gaze lingering on her. "Thank you, Minjeong-Ah," I said, my voice husky with sleep and unspoken emotions.
"For what?" she asked, tilting her head.
"For everything," I replied, cupping her face in my hands and leaning in for a soft kiss. It was a simple gesture, yet it spoke volumes of the renewed connection we shared.
The morning unfolded in a whirlwind of hurried breakfasts, stolen kisses in between brushing teeth, and nervous excitement as we walked to school together, hand in hand. As we reached our classroom, I was met with a concerned Seo-Ah, her eyes wide with worry.
"Y/n!" she exclaimed, rushing over. "Where have you been? I texted and called you a million times; I was scared something happened!"
My heart twinged with a pang of guilt. Seo-Ah's genuine concern warmed me, and I realized how much I valued our friendship. With a sheepish grin, I turned to Minjeong, taking her hand in mine.
"Seo-Ah," I began, my voice laced with a newfound confidence, "there's something I need to tell you. Minjeong and I… we're a couple now."
Seo-Ah's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of sadness flitting across her face for a fleeting moment. But then, a genuine smile bloomed on her lips.
"Oh wow," she said, her voice filled with unexpected joy. "Congratulations, you two! I always thought you had a special connection."
Relief flooded me. I was worried how Seo-Ah would react, but her understanding and well-wishes warmed the air.
The rest of the day was a blur of excited whispers from classmates, stolen glances across the classroom, and the thrill of a newfound love. After school, Minjeong and I decided to celebrate. We walked hand-in-hand down a street lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate pink petals showering us like confetti.
"This feels like a dream," Minjeong whispered, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
"A dream I never want to wake up from," I replied, squeezing her hand.
We stopped at a quaint ice cream shop, the aroma of sweet waffle cones wafting through the air. We ordered our favorite flavors, sharing bites and laughing like children. As we savored the cool treat, I realized that sometimes, the most unexpected detours lead us to the sweetest destinations.
Looking into Minjeong's eyes, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within them, I knew that our story was far from over. It was a story of friendship, of rediscovery, and of a love that had weathered the storms of time and finally blossomed into something beautiful. And as we walked into the sunset, hand in hand, with the promise of forever etched in our hearts, I knew this was just the beginning of our happily ever after.
The End
A/n : Hey Guys, Elryuse here. just want to say, This is probably one of my favorite stories/fics that I've ever written so far. The characterization of Winter/Minjeong really fit in this story. But I have to say, Justice for the Seo-Ah man. Initially, In my first draft of the story, Seo-Ah would be a contender for Winter, However while I was writing, I think this is for the best. So I settled for her losing quicker in the story.
And I wanted to apologize to some of you guys, who have requested for a fics, But I'm currently focusing my priority for my ko-fi fans and for people who ordered fics personally. But don't be sad, I would still definitely do some of your requests y'all. Hope you enjoyed this story guys. 🤗
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klausysworld · 1 year ago
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I don’t know why but I really want something with Klaus breaking reads heart.
Maybe…. Reader and Cami have been kidnapped and Klaus has to choose who to save. He chooses Cami but before reader can be killed Elijah saves her.
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Left for dead
Living with the originals was hard enough. Between the betrayals and the wars just within the family was overwhelming let alone outsiders going out of their way to destroy each of them.
Being with Klaus was already difficult, between his mood swings and temper tantrum’s he wasn't an easy person to love and yet I did.
Even when I realised he was in love with someone else, even whilst knowing he was kissing someone else, I didn't leave him. I loved him with everything in me whether it was killing me or not.
I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.
Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.
For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.
I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.
This was the ultimate test really.
Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:
"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.
Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.
"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"
At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.
I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.
I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.
Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.
I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head
"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.
My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.
"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head
"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.
I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.
As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.
"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.
Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.
"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently
"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.
Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.
My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.
"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head
"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.
"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged
"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.
"I'll give you whatever you need" he promised "anything"
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aprilcolours · 4 months ago
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blackheart: part two
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part one - part three - part four
Two days after the Battle at Lydden, the campground was abuzz with news. ‘The Northmen are here.’ ‘The Stark has arrived.’ ‘Did you hear? The greybeards have joined camp.’ The whispers were unavoidable as Visenya broke her morning fast. She thought it rather funny that men at war gossiped all the same as their wives at home. 
As she began to braid her hair (a wartime style like her mother’s), she thought of a certain young lord who had taken up a pressing residence in her mind. 
She worried that the kiss had been rash, impulsive, and ill-conceived. Perhaps I have let the fire in my blood get the better of me, she fretted.
Visenya carried a great weight on her shoulders. Her mother was relying on her to be successful on campaign, while her father was off gallivanting heedlessly. It was of the utmost importance that these Riverlanders respect her authority as commander and be brought to heel. Not an easy feat as a woman. I cannot afford to give even a single reason for doubt in my capability. 
It was these worries that had caused her to rebuff all attempts Benjicot Blackwood had made at flirtation since the kiss. He had tried to tease her, or goad her, or even on one fateful attempt last night: find her alone again. Like the day at Lydden, he had approached as she landed after scouting on Vermithor. She had said immediately, before she could change her mind, ‘After one does battle, they can retain a sort of thrill-seeking madness to expend the remainder of their blood-letting energy. It is common enough, but regrettable. My sole focus at this time is on securing my mother’s throne. I can consider nothing else.’ She did not meet his eyes as she spoke, looking instead over his shoulder before forcing herself to walk steadfastly away, and ignoring the flash of hurt writ across his face. 
It pained her, as she recalled the morning after, her braid now finished. She could still feel the ghost of him on her lips. Warm and yearning. 
We must all make sacrifices in war, she assured herself. Visenya II took a deep breath, steeled her shoulders, and stepped out of her tent to find her place among the war council. 
As the morning’s gossip foretold, a new broad figure stood at the table. Cregan Stark was a large man, an impression made only larger by the cloak of furs clasped round his shoulders. The familiar lords bowed, but surprisingly, the Northerner chose instead to drop to a knee before her. Lord Stark took her hand and kissed the back of it, declaring in a low voice “It is an honor, your highness.”
Visenya did her best to mask her amusement, though her eyes did widen at the display. 
“Lord Stark, so glad you could join us,” she responded, to some chuckles from the other council members. She looked around the table and caught Ben’s eye. His expression was dark, his usual grin now morphed into something more like a sneer. She looked away quickly and began the day’s deliberations. 
Near midday, the council adjourned momentarily to see to matters within their banners. Visenya used the time to discern the state of the troops, observing carefully to ensure standards were being met. 
Since the victory, certain soldiers had taken it upon themselves to establish a training field. Knights from differing regions clashed steel against steel, trying their skills against one another. She observed the sparring, face impassive. It seemed silly to waste such energy, the war is only beginning, she thought. 
“Does the fighting not please you my lady?” Ben’s taunting voice rang out nearby. 
His face held the promise of mischief. She was immediately wary, raising her signature unimpressed brow. He took a moment, almost seeming to check that all the gathered were listening, before he stook a step out into the yard and said,
“Well of course, a princess is not trained in such matters, not when you have a dragon to fight in your stead.” He gestured jauntily about like he had made a great joke. 
The whole camp stuttered to a standstill. Utter silence across the plain.
How. Dare. You. 
Visenya’s blood turned to ice in her veins, cold hard rage bottoming out her senses. Her face must’ve done something terrifying because every man in the near vicinity took a few steps back. 
And the scoundrel still just grinned his lopsided grin. 
You’ll pay for that Blackwood, she swore in her mind. 
“Is that so?” she asked, voice sharp and quiet like a shard of glass. She stalked slowly to the other edge of the training yard across from him, her steps measured and predatory. The knights gathered there scrambled back, dragging their equipment hastily. 
Back still turned to him, Visenya looked out upon the troops but did not see them. Only red. With nought a thought for the propriety of the situation, he seems to have that effect quite often doesn’t he, she reached to her back and unsheathed the two blades holstered there. 
Then finally, with a Valyrian shortsword in each hand, she turned and looked the Blackwood in the eye.
“To first blood then?” she asked, tone as mild as if she was asking about the weather. 
“To first blood,” he confirmed, eyes gleaming. And he attacked.
He was an explosion given form. A savage whirl of motion and violence, seemingly without end and tireless. It was a hacking, slashing, sort of style— unpredictable, but not so crass as to be reckless. The movements had a deceptive sort of tightness to them: where it appeared at a glance that such rabid fervor might leave his flanks open; he was guarded and compact. 
All this, Visenya gleaned as she danced circles round his brutal strikes. She parried and sidestepped, studying his every movement like a cat might watch a bird. He was a force, made for chaos and to mow down men in great swathes. But she was finely tuned, a crafted blade made for precision. 
He was good, that much was sure. But Father is better. 
She waited until his left foot turned out slightly, as she had noticed it did when he lunged two handedly, and with a swift precise kick she knocked him flat on his back. Between one blink and the next, she had a boot on his chest and her two blades crossed at his throat. 
There was a moment of utter silence again. Before the camp began their raucous applause. The men were shouting her name, her house words, roaring their approval, but she had eyes only for one. 
Ben, his head in the dirt, smiled. A real, genuine, one, not a sneer or smirk. She did her best to remain stoic even as she felt her own smugness tug at her lips. She picked her boot off his chest and pulled her swords from their position, transferring them into one hand so she might offer the other to him. 
He took it, and did not let go as he stood up. Instead, he raised it to his lips and bowed, his dark searing gaze never leaving hers as he, slowly, imploringly, kissed the back of her hand. 
Seven hells. Visenya suppressed a shiver. She could not tell whether she was still angry or wanted to laugh. She forced herself to recover quickly.
“You have a boot-print on your shirt, my lord,” she teased. Then she promptly turned around and looked at the gathered spectators to call,
“Since the situation has arisen, is there any other who would challenge a duel?” She turned in a circle, watching some soldiers jostle each other forward and others shy away. 
“Good Ser Tully,” she addressed, “perhaps a knight can make a better showing on behalf of the Riverlands.” 
The knight laughed humbly and stepped forward, “I can certainly try my lady.”
Visenya sparred with four men, challengers each from different houses. She remained for the better part of the day, offering advice, comparing strategy, and watching other matches. As the sun fell low in the sky, the group finally dispersed. As she made her way back to her tent, she felt a familiar presence step into stride with her. She did not look at Ben as she asked,
“Are you so troubled that you must resort to insulting me the moment another man dares to exist in my presence?”
“No, my lady” he protested, trying to make light of the situation, though he did appear slightly chastened. “Twas simply a ruse so that I might kiss you. I thought you might find it amusing.”
“Amusing? Amusing that you have so loudly begun a pissing contest with the Warden of the North?” she questioned incredulously, temper rising again. She stopped walking and turned to face him. 
Men, she thought angrily, never consider the consequences of their impulses. She felt all her worries about being respected arise within her like a great wave.
“I—” he began, but was swiftly cut off. 
“I will remind you Lord Blackwood, that my mother the Queen has final jurisdiction in the matter of my hand. And she has not yet even heard word of your proposal let alone deigned to consider it,” Visenya bit out, anger giving way to something more like distress. 
She heaved a shaky breath and took a moment to collect herself. He looked thoroughly chastened now. Squaring her shoulders, she pulled her stoicism about her again, declaring,
“Should you presume to mock me publicly again, Raventree Hall will find it has urgent need for its liege Lord to return from his time abroad.”
With that, she turned to stomp away but was halted by a firm hand at her wrist. Turning viciously, she began, “You dare—” 
“Did you speak truly?” Ben asked, voice uncharacteristically timid. “That you regret it?”
She was stricken into silence. He has a habit of surprising me, doesn’t he? Emotions warred within her, crashing against one another like the Narrow Sea. But thinking about his smile today, with her blade to his throat, she could not find it within herself to lie. So she simply shook her head no. 
The Blackwood let a breath out through his nose, like he had been holding it, and pressed a quick hand to her face. His thumb flitted over her cheek once, an echo of his roaming pulling hands. For the briefest of moments, Visenya allowed herself to close her eyes and press her face into his palm. 
“My mother is depending on me,” she whispered, a confession she did not intend to let escape. “I cannot fail her.” 
“I understand,” he replied simply, voice also hushed. 
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. A long tender beat. Two. 
When he pulled away, the look in Benjicot Blackwood’s eyes was something close to grim determination. He backed away and strode into the night, cloaked in purpose.
A/N: okay so turns out that was just some random blackwood but we are going to ignore that and continue in the delusion bc its fun
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on-my-vigilante-sht · 10 months ago
Text
Follow Me
Luke Castellan x daughterofares!Reader
Summary: Luke's girlfriend is excited to finally become a year-round camper so she can spend it with him. But Luke has other plans for them.
Warning: Major spoilers if you haven't finished the first book(/season depending on when you read this), canon-level violence, weapons, injuries, angst
Word Count: 5.5K
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A/N I haven't watched the show because I don't have Disney+ so I'm working from (memory of) the books. No characters are specifically book or show so descriptions are left vague. Imagine whatever you want.
I stumbled my way up Half-Blood Hill, determined to get to Thalia’s tree. This was my last year being a summer camper. After I graduated high school I’d decided to become a year round camper seeing as the real world was getting more and more dangerous for me. And I'd be damned if I let myself be killed right before I was in the safety of camp for good.
I was in so much pain, there was blood pouring out of my abdomen caused by the crocotta’s razor sharp claws slicing at me. My short break gave it enough time to catch up to me so rather than continuing to flee, I was forced to turn and face it. I pulled out my father’s gift to me, a sword made of celestial bronze that grew from a steel knife that could harm mortals. When he claimed and gifted it to me I found the steel useless. Why would I ever need to harm a mortal? The reasoning behind the dual blade still eluded me. The only reason I could think of was just that Ares had a penchant for violence.
As the crocotta bounded closer to me, all I could do was stand and wait for it to get within range. But upon reaching me, it just swiped the sword from my grasp, pouncing on me. I felt a tear slip down my face as I realized I’d failed to reach safety one final time. As it growled in my face and opened its jaw, I sent a silent prayer to my father and a goodbye to Luke. But before it’s jaws could clamp down on me, the weight lifted and a shimmery cloud of ichor rained down on me.
As the golden dust settled, I could see my boyfriend’s face above mine, standing over me, clutching his dagger. “Luke,” I practically sobbed in relief.
“Oh my gods,” he exclaimed, kneeling down next to me. His hands went to my stomach, pressing against the open wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “Can you walk?” he asked, fear in his eyes.
“Yeah,” I nodded, letting him take my hand as he stood. Truthfully I probably couldn’t really walk but it was either walk 10 feet to the tree or lie here waiting for someone else to help Luke carry me in and potentially getting attacked by another monster.
I let out a groan as Luke slung my arm over his shoulder, pulling me up from the ground. “C’mon,” he urged, “just get to the tree and then we’ll get some more people to help you.” I nodded, not bothering with a verbal agreement as I let my boyfriend practically carry me just past Thalia’s tree. “There we go,” he said gently as he eased me to the ground.
“Go. Go get Lee or Michael,” I urged him as he kneeled by my side again.
“No,” Luke immediately shot down. “I’m not leaving you like this and so close to the edge of the barrier.” I glanced to my left. We were about three feet from the edge of the camp’s protective barrier. “Help!” I heard him yell towards camp.
“What? Do you think I'm accidentally gonna roll down the hill?” I tried to joke. But my chuckle made my wounds hurt even more.
Seeing my pain made Luke even more unamused. Soon enough a few other campers ran up to us, having heard Luke’s call.
“Y/N, oh my god.”
“What happened?”
“Another one?!”
I heard the various reactions from other campers. Another one? What did they mean another one? But I didn’t dwell on my questions for long because Lee Fletcher and Michael Yew were running towards me. A few of my siblings followed them carrying a stretcher. As the Apollo boys started to try to stop the bleeding, I was moved onto the stretcher. But the pain of being lifted was so bad I blacked out.
~
When I came to in the sickroom of the Big House all I could feel was pain. I let out a soft groan, snapping Luke to attention. He was slumped over on my bedside, seemingly sleeping. He immediately grabbed a piece of ambrosia off the nightstand next to the cot, bringing it to my lips. I immediately rejected it, not feeling like eating anything.
“C’mon, it’s ambrosia. It’ll make you feel better,” Luke pleaded. Reluctantly I let him coax the food into my mouth and ate it. The comforting taste of my mother’s chocolate cake filled my mouth. Despite the fact that it tasted good, it felt heavy in my stomach and I pushed the food away. “You gotta eat more than that,” he tried again.
“Let’s start with water or nectar,” I suggested, my throat sore.
Luke looked at the floor angrily. He sighed. “We’re out of nectar for a while. Ambrosia is all we have.”
“What?” I asked in shock, sitting up in surprise. Luke was quick to coax me back down.
“Grover and the kid he was helping got attacked by the Minotaur on their way here. Just like the crocotta attacked you.”
“Oh my god,” I murmured. “Is that why someone said ‘Another one?’ as they were bringing me here?”
He nodded once again. “His name was Percy. He showed up the night before you did.” He suddenly stopped talking. Like he had something more to say. I urged him to continue and he did so reluctantly. “Poseidon claimed him the second night he was awake… and now he’s on a quest.”
I looked at him sympathetically. I knew all about Luke’s anger about going unclaimed for so long. And then when he finally was claimed and had trained to be a great hero, all Hermes could give him to do was steal some golden apples. But after countless rants about this I knew he wouldn’t want sympathy. “You said he’s on a quest already? How long have I been out?”
“A couple days. Chiron and Lee kicked me out for a while.”
“What’d you do?”
“Well, we already need new practice dummies for combat training,” he admitted sheepishly. I laughed and fortunately Luke did too.
By now, Chiron had sensed I was awake and entering the sickroom. As he ducked his way through the door he shrunk down back into his wheelchair so as to not overwhelm me. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. You gave us quite a scare for a few days,” he smiled.
“So I've heard.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like my guts were ripped out by a crocotta,” I answered.
“Well the ambrosia should help the pain and scarring. Lee stopped the bleeding and stitched you up but he said you’d be out for a few days.”
“Can you get her some nectar?” Luke interrupted. “She’s not exactly in a place to be eating solid foods.”
“Mr. D is trying to get into contact with Apollo. Apparently he’s concerned that Dionysus is overindulging.”
“That’s crap!” Luke suddenly burst out.
“Luke!” Chiron immediately cut him off. “I know you’re concerned for Ms. L/N, here but the food of the gods is in of itself a privilege.” He then turned his attention back to me. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well but ambrosia will have to do until we’re able to get more nectar.”
“Thanks, Chiron,” I tried to dismiss him, giving him a tight lipped smile. Sensing my disappointment he took his leave, wheeling out of the room.
Luke was back by my bedside with more pieces of ambrosia that I reluctantly took.
~
Thanks to the godly food I was up and walking within two days much to cabin 5’s relief. So many of my younger siblings were saying that Clarisse had been a terror in my absence. Something about a bathroom exploding and then she apparently tried to electrocute the new camper. I made a note to talk to her later but for now I was focused on getting my cabin back in order. They responded best to authority and a routine so I quickly had them out in training, telling them that I wouldn’t tolerate us losing capture the flag again.
We made our way down to the arena for sword fighting lessons. Luke and I were both instructors seeing as we were the oldest two campers and the best with blades. Our childhood competitiveness had eventually grown into love but for a while, we hated each other. We used to spend hours trying to get the upper hand over one another.
But now that we were dating, the younger campers always tried to goad us into sparring with one another. We always said that we’d save our sparring match for our own training or a reward for the others doing well but usually a few teasing comments had our swords pointed at one another.
I was correcting a Hermes camper’s form when he asked me to try fighting Luke. “Not today,” I laughed.
“Why? Is it because you’re scared?” he asked, knowing exactly what he was doing.
“No,” I corrected him. “It’s because once we fight, none of you will care about what we teach you.”
“Sound like you’re scared,” the boy just repeated.
I just rolled my eyes, prepared to dismiss him when Luke’s voice interrupted. “Yeah, Y/N. It sounds like you’re scared.” I rolled my eyes again as he approached. “I wouldn’t want to fight the capture the flag champion either.”
“You only won because I was recovering from being chased across the country by a monster. Just wait until the next game, I’ll show you how Cabin 5 does it.” That elicited a few cries of encouragement from my cabin, eager to win their flag back.
“You need a bit more time to train, I get it,” he mockingly offered. A few of his siblings joined in on the taunting with their exaggerated reactions.
“I don’t need time. I’d just rather not cut you up this early into the summer,” I smiled. A few ‘ooh’s came from our audience.
Luke bristled a little at that. “C’mon,” he gestured to the arena, “let’s settle this once and for all.”
I picked up one of the practice swords that resembled the size and weight of my real sword, stepping into the middle of the arena. “You say that every time.” Luke smiled, taking his spot in front of me with his practice sword as the other campers backed up.
I barely gave him a chance to settle before I was moving. I had the advantage of my father’s knack for fighting and aggression but I wasn’t as strong as Luke. Unfortunately, he knew all my moves and tricks so he was able to block me. But that also meant I knew all of his moves and tricks because I could anticipate his subsequent moves.
We continued on, trying to outmaneuver each other. He kept forcing me out of range, protecting his body, whilst I tried to find an opening to get close to him. The other campers had been within the walls of the arena but we moved around so much they were forced to jump out.
The only reason we stopped was because our little “lesson” had gone on too long and Chiron was wondering where his students were. Neither of us noticed him until he yelled our names. “Y/N L/N! Luke Castellan! What are you doing?” We both immediately stopped, facing the centaur like guilty children.
���We were just introducing them to technique,” Luke offered. I could tell Chiron saw right through his excuse but it was good enough reasoning.
“You both know you’re supposed to hold off on sparring one another. Children,” he turned to the other campers, “what did your instructors teach you?”
“Stance!”
“What to do if your opponent has a longer sword!”
Those were the answers our siblings offered but one Aphrodite camper’s answer ruined the whole thing. “How to waste time.” Luke and I both sent her stares.
Fortunately Chiron didn’t take it too seriously. “Save the sparring for your own sessions,” he warned us. “Everyone move on to your next activities. I’m sure your instructors are waiting.”
As everyone else filed off, Luke and I looked at each other. “You’re disgusting,” I laughed, observing his sweaty shirt.
He looked baffled at that. “Wow. I was gonna ask if you’re okay but clearly you don’t value me that much,” he answered in mocking offense.
“No, no, no,” I corrected through laughs, going to him. But as soon as he tried to hug me, I pulled away with a wrinkled nose. Seeing my disgust, he forcefully hugged me, drowning me in his B.O. When I finally wrestled my way out of his arms I was disgusting. “Ugh we both need showers.”
He smiled. “I’ll see you at dinner,” he promised. He stepped closer to me, kissing me quickly before heading off towards the showers. I watched him leave for a moment before heading to my cabin.
Later that night at dinner, I was talking to my cabin-mates when Luke came over, crouching by me. “Hey,” he smiled up at me as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
“Hi,” I laughed. “What are you doing here?”
“Being a good boyfriend. I’m just giving you a heads up that our spar from earlier isn’t over yet.”
“What?”
Chiron stood up and so did Luke. “Gotta go, bye,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple before scurrying off.
Bewildered, I looked up at Chiron. “We have a special activity tonight per the request of the reigning capture the flag champions. We’ll be playing again tonight seeing as some claimed our last games were unfair due to a missing counselor.” Cabin 5 erupted into cheers, eager to win the flag back. “Luke Castellan and Y/N L/N are captains. Same rules as the prior games.”
Not willing to let my cabin lose again, I jumped into action. “Cabin 5, armor on, get to the creek in 5!” They all quickly scrambled off. Our allies for this game, Dionysus, Aphrodite, Demeter, and Hephaestus followed their lead.
I followed after them to get my armor as well and soon enough I was stood by the creek, discussing strategy with my teammates. Once our discussion time drew to a close, I faced my opposing captain. “You’re going down, feather feet,” I sneered.
“We’ll see, hot head,” Luke taunted.
I laughed. “Oh yeah, one more thing,” I told my teammates. “Bring me Luke’s sword and helmet.”
“In your dreams,” he taunted back. He looked at his team. “Bring me Y/N.”
“Okay,” Chiron interrupted us. “Before we begin I think we need a reminder that killing is not permitted. Are we clear?” A few unenthusiastic agreements came from the crowd. Nodding, Chiron blew into the horn, signaling that the games had begun. Some of my campers who hadn’t already been stationed bolted into the trees, doubling back so they could hopefully sneak through Hermes’ cabin’s defenses. The others stayed with me to defend the most obvious point.
One Hermes kid immediately jumped at me but I slashed him in the chest, (his armor protected him so he just got the wind knocked out of him) knocking him back into the water.
He got back up, running at one of my campers but he was immediately disarmed and taken prisoner. By the time I looked back, the other campers and Luke were gone. I realized with a frustrated scream that this kid was a distraction. “Find them!” I yelled at the others.
“Their territory or ours?” I observed the 5 campers in front of me. “You three, stay on our side. Fan across the creek, look for signs they crossed into our territory. The rest of you, we’re gonna either hunt them down in their territory or take their flag.”
My group leapt over the creek, running into the forest.
As we searched, we picked up a few of our own teammates, running through the woods and strangely finding no opposing campers. We continued on nonetheless until Athena and Apollo campers all of a sudden started darting through the trees.
Eventually they stopped moving enough for us to have a proper fight. I faced Malcom Pace, easily disarming him. But suddenly his older brothers were on me. As I was busy fighting twins, Leo and Cato, another one of the boys found an opening. Quinn wrapped his arms around me, a dagger at my throat. “Drop the sword,” they told me.
Seeing as I wasn’t getting out of this but my teammates were gone while many of the Athena and Apollo campers were still here, I dropped the sword. Most of my campers got away and were likely hunting down the flag.
Before they could decide where to stash their prisoner, the horn blew again, signaling the end of the games. But as I tried to leave, the others stopped me. “Woah, Luke said he wanted you so we’re taking you.”
I rolled my eyes, letting them lead me to the creek. “Yeah, well when my cabin gives me his stuff and the flag, you can apologize to me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Quinn dismissed. “You’re just mad I beat you.”
“You only ‘beat me’ because there were three of you. And you guys still lost the rest of my team.”
“We still got you!” Leo taunted in a sing-songy voice. By now we had reached the creek and I saw Clarisse holding the flag, a helmet, and a sword. Luke was kneeled beside her looking humiliated, clearly a captive.
Both sides let us go and I went to Clarisse. “Your spoils,” she presented me the flag, helmet, and sword. I smiled, wrapping the flag around her shoulders and taking Luke’s stuff.
“Thank you!” I said emphatically, pointing a look of victory at Luke.
He just shook his head, standing up. As he approached me I figured he was grabbing his belongings but instead he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me in for a kiss. When he pulled away he explained. “You’re my spoil.”
~
Camp life continued on as normal for a while. I finally met the newest hero who had returned Zeus’ masterbolt— he did not like my father. He seemed surprised that Luke and I were dating and I learned that Luke had become a sort of mentor to Percy over the days that I had been asleep. That also surprised me, given how resentful Luke had seemed towards him when I first woke up. Regardless, everything seemed normal as we continued our routines throughout the summer until I was woken up one night.
“Y/N,” a voice whispered, shaking me. “Y/N.” I reluctantly opened my eyes, finding one of my younger brothers, Aiden, shaking me. “Luke’s asking for you.”
“What?” I asked, sitting up.
“Luke wants to talk to you. He gave me a coke if I woke you up.” The boy excitedly held up a shiny red can as if to persuade me to go.
I rubbed his messy hair as I sat up. “Don’t let Clarisse see that,” I advised, throwing on a hoodie. He nodded, going back to his bunk as I headed outside. “Luke!” I whispered into the night upon exiting the cabin. I didn’t notice him sneaking up towards me until his hands were around my waist. “Luke!” I exclaimed in surprise.
He quickly hushed me. “Do you want the harpies to find us?”
“Well we wouldn’t have to worry about that if you weren’t trying to talk to me in the middle of the night. What’s wrong?” I asked, knowing it’d be serious. He let his playful facade drop as he urged me to follow him, taking my hand. I went with him, silently trusting him until I realized we were heading to the woods. I stopped, letting my hand fall out of his grasp. “What? Are you gonna kill me in there?” I laughed shallowly, trying to lighten the mood and quell the alarms in my brain.
Luke returned my shallow laugh, clearly nervous. “Of course not. Look, I have to talk to you. It’s serious.” I could see the genuineness in his expression so I let him retake my hand. “I’d never hurt you,” he promised. So I followed him further into the woods until he deemed us far enough. “The nymphs may hear us but it’s kind of impossible to avoid them,” he chuckled.
“Hear what?” I asked.
He took a breath, seemingly composing himself. “You know how I went on that quest? For my dad?”
“Yeah. What? You want to go out into the world again?” I asked, a little relieved.
“Sort of,” he offered. “But on that ‘quest,’” he mocked the word, “I realized something: the gods are useless.”
“Luke!” I immediately reprimanded him.
“No,” he cut me off. “You don’t have to pretend like not fawning over the gods is a crime. We shouldn’t be blindly worshipping them. Y/N,” his hands were clasping my shoulders as if begging me to believe him, “your father waited for the last day of summer your first year to claim you. Why? Just to mess with you? Because he just couldn’t be bothered to do it until he remembered at the last second? That’s messed up. The gods aren’t fit to rule. The West is going to hades. My quest? To repeat Heracles’ quest? All the gods know how to do is repeat the past. Their glory days.”
“Luke, you’re scaring me.” I was practically begging him to stop talking so we could go back to the way it was. This was the first year I’d be staying year round. We were supposed to be celebrating Christmas together for the first time in a few months. Yet here he was, spouting off heresy.
“Open your eyes,” he insisted. “The gods are poisoning the world and they’ve been using us as pawns to do it. The only way to fix it is to destroy it and start over with something more honest.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been having dreams sent by the Titan Lord.”
A shiver ran down my spine and I stepped out of his grasp. “No,” I heard myself whisper. “Luke, he’s using you. You remember what Chiron taught us. We are not better off, no one was better off when the Titans ruled. We didn’t even have fire. He will kill all the humans. He’ll kill us.”
“Not if we join him willingly,” Luke promised, trying to take my hand again but I pulled away. “He said when I bring down the gods he’ll reward me. He’ll make me immortal. He promised you’d become like me too.” He quickly grasped my wrist tight enough so I couldn’t escape, pulling me closer. “We can rule together, forever.” He was pleading with me to take his offer, his hands finding a stray lock of hair to tuck behind my ear.
“Luke… this isn’t- you can’t…” I was at a loss for words.
“Please, Y/N,” his voice was cracking.
“I can’t. I’m sorry. This isn’t right. This is dangerous, can’t you see that?”
“This isn’t me just trying to get back at my dad. I’ve thought about this.” He stiffened, still tightly grasping my wrist. “Y/N, I need you with me.”
“Then don’t go,” I begged him. “I won’t even tell anyone. We can just go back to how things were.”
“No, we can’t,” he shook his head. “Because you’re gonna try to help me by telling Chiron and he’s gonna turn me in.”
“No he won’t! Luke, he trained you. He’ll want to help you.”
“Camp isn’t safe for us anymore. We have to go.”
This was the first time I actually started fearing for my safety. I tried to pull out of his grasp but he held firm. “Go where?”
“Our Titan Lord got us a ship. We’ll be safe there until I get my next orders. The monsters on it won’t harm us.”
“What?!” With a hard wrench I pulled my wrist out of his grasp. I immediately started running, hoping a nymph would find me before a monster did but Luke was on me in seconds. He knocked me to the ground and after a little struggling he had me pinned. “Luke, please don’t do this,” I begged as I saw him reach into his pocket. When I saw the milk of the poppy I began to thrash underneath him but I couldn’t manage to throw him off of me. He forced my mouth open, dropping the liquid onto my tongue and forcing me to swallow. Before I blacked out, I could vaguely hear him speak.
“You’ll be okay in a few days and then we can talk.” A few days???
~~
The next morning Luke was woken by frantic cries of his girlfriend’s name heard throughout camp. He immediately rushed out of bed, putting on a concerned boyfriend facade. Finding one of his brothers, he asked what was going on. “What? Did you just wake up?” Luke nodded frantically. “Oh, I’m sorry man. Uh, Y/N wasn’t in bed this morning. No one can find her. One of her little brothers said you asked to talk to her last night.”
“Yeah to talk about potentially allying for capture the flag but she went right back in,” he insisted frantically. He ran a hand through his hair, acting stressed. He kind of whished he’d be gone by now but he needed to get rid of Percy before he could go.
He ran out of the cabin, immediately going up to Cabin 5. Clarisse spotted him, her expression becoming sour. “What’d you do Castellan? Aiden said you wanted to talk to her last night.”
“Yeah, we were talking about capture the flag but she went right back in 10 minutes later. You sleep 20 feet from her, where’s my girlfriend?” he challenged. Clarisse sent him a scowl but otherwise stormed off, the other Cabin 5 campers following her with similar expressions.
“Luke, I'm so sorry,” a young voice called. He turned, finding Annabeth running towards him. As she hugged him, Luke couldn’t help but think about how much he’d miss her. She was too smart for her own good but he still couldn’t help but think of the seven year old he had found hiding from monsters. “She could just be out somewhere?” she offered, trying to console him.
“I hope so,” he smiled down at her. He then spotted Mr. D and ran over to him. “Mr. D, can you find where she is?”
The god gave him a tired expression. “I’m not omniscient in this state. All I know is she���s not in camp.”
“Well can’t you get a god who is? Surely her father wants to know where she is,” he insisted. But Ares had plenty of demigod children and most of them went missing in action or died tragic deaths. Y/N would be just another hero child that fought in his name.
“Lord Ares has other concerns,” Mr. D at least tried to soften the blow. “If she hasn’t returned by the end of the summer then we must assume she is dead. Even if she left of her own volition.”
“But summer is ends tomorrow. You can’t do this. She could still be out there. She could need our help. Let me go out and search,” he pleaded. By now, Chiron, Clarisse, and a few others had joined them.
“No one is leaving,” Chiron declared. “I’m not letting anyone else go missing. Luke, I understand your concern but her blade was found in Cabin 5. If she’s not in camp she is likely already dead.”
“No,” Luke insisted, putting on the performance of a lifetime, “you’re wrong.”
After nearly two whole days of searching camp and the closest borders, (that was the furthest Chiron would let anyone go) Y/N L/N was declared dead. Her siblings reluctantly built a funeral pyre, decorating it with some of her things. Luke did his best to look devastated and it seemed to be working because no one looked at him twice other than to offer their sympathies. That at least made it easy to lure Percy off into the woods just before he left.
~~
When I woke up I was in a strange room. It looked like a hotel room except for the fact that the floor to ceiling windows showed that I was on the ocean. That triggered all the memories of Luke. A sense of hopelessness came over me and I was immediately breaking down in sobs. I didn’t want to believe that he had joined Kronos and turned his back on everything he knew or that he was determined to drag me with him.
Once I finally managed to compose myself I went to the door, hoping to find a radio so someone could get me. Or maybe even find Luke so I could talk him into letting me go. But once I opened the door I was met with the massive jaws of a hellhound. I immediately shut the door and locked it.
Still feeling unsafe I went to grab the dresser to block the door but either it was too heavy or bolted down. I tried the desk next resulting in nothing. I was running out of time as the monster was probably just trying to process what it saw. Soon it’d smell me and start trying to break down the door. So I resorted to the chair, dragging it across the floor and jamming it under the door handle. I then went to the massive windows, realizing there was a hidden door. I wrenched it open, stepping out into the fresh air. I looked around, seeing no land I’d be able to swim to. But just as I was considering my chances, I noticed the body of a massive whale-like creature. I was willing to bet that whales weren’t just swimming around a cruise ship, this was a cetus.
Seeing as I had nowhere else to go, I went back into the room. I went to the attached bathroom, searching for something to defend myself. There wasn’t really anything in there except bar soap and toilet paper. Luke must have removed everything, even the towels, so I couldn’t hurt him or anyone else. Frustrated, I went to the closet, finding it completely empty. Not even a hangar to pull apart and stab someone with. So I reluctantly grabbed the soap seeing as it was literally the only thing remotely resembling a weapon, and sat on the bed, watching the door.
I don’t know how long I sat there but eventually I heard the door shake, like something was trying to get in. As I was preparing to clobber the monster with my bar of soap, a voice I recognized called through the door. “C’mon, Y/N! Open the door,” Luke said. I didn’t dare move. I didn’t want to see him. “Open the door or I break it down!” he demanded.
It was either open the door or have absolutely no protection from the monsters so I reluctantly got up. “Okay, okay!” I answered. “Just give me a second.” I climbed off the bed, removing the chair. I only twisted the handle, letting the door open slightly before going back to the bed to put some distance between us.
As Luke was locking the door again, I took my chance. Jumping, I tried to bring the bar of soap down on him but he turned, grabbing my wrist. “Come on, you had to have known that wouldn’t work,” he smiled.
I only gave him a burning stare. “It was worth a shot,” I said, trying to pull my hand away. But his grip held fast, not letting me pull away.
“So I guess you still hate me?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “You kidnapped me and are now holding me hostage on a monster infested ship.”
“You’ll understand soon enough,” he dismissed, once again brushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “Then we’ll be together forever.”
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pinkslaystation · 7 months ago
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If I meant something to you.
toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader
You want him, but does he want you? Part 2 :> Part 3 :< Word Count: 2.1k
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Whatever you did, you always found yourself being a disappoint to your parents.
First, it was getting rejected from the university your parents intended you to go to. Then, it was working at a job that didn't utilise your degree. And now, it's complaint after complaint for being in a 'relationship' with some they didn't approve of.
"Honey, I just don't think he's the right one for you..." Your mother complained on the phone for what felt like the thousandth time this day.
You rolled your eyes exasperatingly, happy that she couldn't see your annoyance through the call.
"Ma...you haven't even met him, I don't see why it's such a big deal, I'm finally out of your hair anyways, isn't that what you wanted?" You argued.
Everyday felt like a battle for your parent's time and affection.
Living under the shadows of your siblings was a pain. Your older sister had pursued a law degree at a top university when you were just in high school, and moved abroad to practice at one of the best law firms in the US. Your younger brother, on the other hand, was in their 2nd year studying Aeronautical Engineering at the same university as the elder. You felt like the odd one out in every field.
And here you are, stuck working in retail even though you complete your Bachelors degree in Computer Science.
Whatever you did, just was not enough for your parents.
So you saved enough money from your job, took out a small loan and made the decision to pack your bags and move to the Midlands, which was just regionally higher up than where you initially resided in your family home. How funny was it that you were the last sibling to move out?
After weeks of working your ass of at your new 8-6 job...still in retail, one silent evening after taking out the trash, you found yourself coming face to face to your neighbor.
And to say to he was attractive was an understatement. He had a tall tower-like frame, height ranging anywhere from 6'2 to 6'4, his scarred face was decorated with dirty blonde, short yet soft, hair and a slight stubble. His face, though rough, looked almost model worthy and held a permanent angry face, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenching as if it hurt to open them.
"You got a staring problem, love?" He scoffed at you, the first time your met. You stumbled over your words, eyes wide as saucepans.
"!- we- um..who..who are you?"
The blonde chuckled at you sarcastically, "Your neighbour, Riley, you won't see as often so close that bloody mouth of yours."
And he was right, out of 7 months of living at your new flat, you'd seen him only a handful of times. You often found yourself questioning his occupation, why exactly he hangs out and about the area for a week, then just suddenly just disappears, like a ghost.
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You'd learnt from the other residents that he worked within the military, whether it was the marines, the air force or the army, you never knew, until one faithful morning, you found yourself nestled against his broad warm chest, both of you hungover from the block party that all of the residents had been invited to.
"Hmm...mornin'" He grunts out at you, and the slightly reddening marks running down his neck and the bruising hand prints on your waist told you enough about the previous night.
You stiffen next to him, but his rough skin grazing against your skin urges to continue to curl up beside him.
Fast-forward another 5 months, it's been nearly a year of knowing 'Riley' and nearly a year you'd seen anyone from your family. You've always wanted to know how long they would be able to go on without you...and you'd finally got your answer.
You've learnt a lot of things about 'Riley'. For starters, his full name was Simon, though everyone in the building referred to him by his last name (you'd pestered him too much, and he finally caved in and allowed you to call him by his first name). He was almost 10 years elder to you and his striking face was usually masked with a black balaclava or those disposable ones.
"Ma, I'm happy, why can't you just be happy for me?"
"Sweetheart, why don't you come home for the weekend and we can finally meet this man. I mean since you're exclusive and everything."
"We...we're not that level yet-"
"Your older sister's getting married and she's only 4 years older than you.-"
"Why do you keep bringing her up? What's she got to do with this?"
"Honey, listen, me and your father are happy you're with someone. I mean this is the first time someone actually liked you right?"
Ouch.
"It wouldn't hurt to meet the old fella, no?"
Ah, one important part I forgot to mention.
You weren't dating Simon.
In fact, you guys never really established a relationship between the two of you. When he was home from deployment, your evening usually consisted of lazing about after work, wine in hand, Simon walking in, a few words exchanged here and there about his work-
Oh, and the night ending with a good rough fucking.
The morning would come by and you'd walk into your shift, your hickey-adorned chest and neck covered with a black turtleneck although it was the middle of August (and against the uniform policy).
So one night you decided to break away from his dominating kiss, and sit him down for a heartfelt conversation-
"Why'd you want to complicate things," he sneers, "we're just fuck buddies yeah?"
"Excuse me? So, what those 5 months didn't mean shit to you?" You scoffed, rather offended that he looked down at you, just like your family.
"You're old enough to be my kid, what make you think this was gonna go anywhere?" He stands up, lighting a smoke, knowing you hated the stench of his cigarettes in your room. It was always your room, always your flat. You can't remember the last time you even went to Simon's place, if there ever was a time.
"Who has a kid at 10? And why'd you keep fucking me? And I'm 24 fucking years old, Jesus, why does that not go through anyone's thick ass skull?!"
"Calm down love, thought this arrangement was mutual, I've got pent up frustration from the military, you're pent up 'cos no one else wants you-"
"Those nights didn't mean anything to you?"
"You don't mean anything to me." He asserts furiously. You studied him, the glimpse of that comforting man who stroked your back and kissed your forehead post-sex really wasn't there.
The fuck does this guy think he is?
"Get out."
"Done."
And he gets up and leaves, blowing a puff of smoke as if to scent the room. Just like that. Wow, was there anyone in your life that actually cared about you?
All those Wattpad stories taught you that the guy usually fights for his lover, screaming back saying that he won't leave without a fight, arguing that that the pair deserved each other. And yet, here you are, sobbing in the shower, unable to differentiate whether your body is getting soaked from the water or from the river of salty tears streaming down your dull, lifeless face, all because the guy you wanted never truly wanted you back.
You felt used, mainly your body. Rubbing yourself full of soap just caused your mind to flash back to his thick calloused hands massaging every inch of skin.
When you occasionally saw him at the building get together, which you wonder why he even attends considering he just hates and complains about everyone (everyone but you of course), you'd find yourself glued on the spot, lips quivering, tears threatening to spill again- and the throbbing. Man, the throbbing you felt between your legs. If it wasn't for his dick, you'd really be wondering why you craved him so bad, because it's definitely not his nasty personality.
And every time you open your mouth to say something to him, to call him over, to greet him, hell you should be cursing him out in front of everyone, he just stormed out with his head down with what looks like a combination of embarrassment or grief.
Until one night, you get a phone call from your older sister, the unsaved number appearing unfamiliar to you. Your hesitant to pick up.
"Hello?"
"Heyyy," She drags out her words, as if to waste time. You can tell your mother meddled in between, "So, I'm having the engagement party by the end of this month, and um...you free to come? No worries if you can't."
You pause, did she even want you there?
"Sure."
"Cool. Um, Mum says you're seeing someone, you can bring 'em if you want."
"Sure."
"Yeah, dunno if it's serious enough but there's enough space in the venue."
"Sure."
There's a pause on the other line.
"Hey can you say anything other than 'sUrE'?" She mocks you. Your eyebrow twitches in amusement.
"Did you just call to brag about you and your fancy ass engagement party? And the audacity to not send an invite, if you don't want me there, just say it. I'm not a baby anymore." You frustratingly answer.
Your sister remains quiet on the other line and you can tell you struck a nerve.
"I- listen I know we never get along but can you please come? Ma keeps mentioning you, surprisingly, and- and we haven't seen you in months, you don't even reply to the memes on the family group chat..."
You blink. "We have a family group chat?"
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The rest of the month was empty, and although you were thankful for no more surprising run-ins with Simon, you missed having a warm body next to you. You learnt from one of the residents that he's been deployed for 3 weeks, this particular one shorter than others.
He confused you, Simon. He hated the idea of being in a relationship with you, yet he did 'relationship things' with you. He disliked when people assumed you two were a couple in public, but he always had his arm around you protectively. Not even education was this stressful.
And as much as you wanted to sit and let the misery marinate into your mind, you knew the date of the engagement party was nearing and you knew you couldn't come empty-handed.
By the end of the 3rd week, you knew Simon had come home, recognising the sound of the heavy footsteps entering his flat next door at 3 in the morning, you being awake from all the stress your high-maintenance sister had thrown suddenly at you. But you couldn't help but notice the sound of a softer treads following his. Maybe he got a pet?
That night, you had trouble sleeping, unsure whether it was the stress of trying to impress your family or the light sound of the headboards of next door creaking. That sound was familiar, reminding you when he was over at your place, rocking gently inside of you, though you question why he's not with you this moment. Usually you'd find him at the other side of the door, tired eyes resembling those of a stray puppy looking for a place to stay.
You close your eyes, your mind racing to the thought of the burly man on the other side of the wall rubbing himself to the thought of you. You sink into the bed, disregarding that unignorable pulsating feeling.
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Saturday morning come, and you stretched contently, knowing that you finally had the day off from work. But that short-lived happiness dimmed when you checked the unread notification blasting through your phone.
7:29 A.M. #####:- hey listen i meant it when i said i wanted you there. pls come. #####:- it wouldnt just make ma happy but me too #####:- u gotta be there to make look better haha im joking
You had a feeling that she was not.
7:56 A.M. #####:-and uh, bring your guy as well pls, ma's so excited planning this wedding she wants to get started on the next one too lolol #####:- also she thinks your lying :/
Great, now there's actual pressure to bring someone.
Your morning dose of caffeine didn't hit today, as your body feels heavier than usual as you trudge all the way to your doorstep. When the last time you actually left your apartment if not for work?
Forcing yourself to look decently good, you make your way to your neighbour's doorstep, knocking so softly you almost tried again, until the door abruptly open, revealing a wet toweled Simon.
An eerie silence captures the atmosphere, consists of his eyes drinking in your disheveled appearance after almost a month, and yours undressing him, as if he wasn't already standing almost-nude.
He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it, "Listen I know you've been deployed for the past 3 weeks, but listen I need a favour, I know you hate me and don't want to be with me but I really need a date to an engagement party, and I hate men and men hate me so I don't know anyone but you, and here me out, but could you please take some time out of your month to please be my date, I know you don't like me like that, which makes no sense to me 'cos you're in that mask almost the same number of times as you're in me- just please give it a thought-"
There's a cough behind Simon.
A half nude woman runs past you, head down in shame, smilingly guiltily as she tiptoes out of his room. She heard it all, you thought.
You look at Simon, suddenly recollected last night's events, the 2nd footsteps, the headboard banging. It all made sense. You really didn't mean anything to him.
Simon shifts on his feet uncomfortably.
"Surprise?"
its's 2 a.m. as i post this...why do my brain cells suddenly begin to work post-midnight I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum
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heartofbusan · 3 months ago
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Best laid plans of stomach bugs and men.
The chemistry is the point.
Some people underestimate the effort and toll it takes on ones body and schedule to fly 14 hours to visit another person. 14 hours to spend 72 hours together means commitment. It means bro's before ho's and I am frankly HERE FOR IT.
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The discourse I am seeing is extremely telling of how fickle people are about their support for jikook. People watch too much scripted reality tv 🙄 bcs they really expected this relationship, this reunion if you will, to play out in multiple angle close ups and medium shots and several wide angle shots with dramatic zooms and heavily directed post-moment recaps with dramatic silences or eye rolls to play up the drama? The lack of moments, the MUNDANITY if you will IS THE POINT. They are so real to me, so life like, so domestic goals!
Being quiet with each other. No uncomfortable silences, but comfortable togetherness.
That's what leads to horny bed fighting, which in my eyes could lead to more if not for the cameras 👀 just me?
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When they said unscripted, this is what they meant. When they said unplanned, this is what they referred to. Not directed, not scripted, not fanservice 🙄 to fit a planned narrative. This is how their relationship plays out. I'd go so far as to call it a documentary instead of a reality series. While documentaries have tons of genres within itself, this genre is one where there's a broad range of planned activities, but where the narrative is constructed in post production: editing. Id know, since im an editor. This tells me that they counted on the natural chemistry between 'JeonJi' (SO CUTE) to 'lead the way' instead of a multitude of directed interactions that they (the producers) would have needed to tick a dramatic narrative box.
So what does that lead to? In my professional opinion as a director/editor the first two episodes lacked a dramatic arc. There was little directing going on to force one
the chemistry is the point
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The flirting, the lulls in conversation, them being together, seeing them have fun, and reconnecting is the point. Instead of what they're doing or what they're talking about. The episodes, therefore, are kinda boring in the sense of entertainment, but wildly exiting in the sense of what we get to see play out. And it's incredibly nuanced. And nuance often flies over people's heads..again, the crowd that expects to be held by the hand when it comes to drama: reality tv.
It's a huge risk to take as a production. Let's not underestimate that! 'Are You Sure' was so unscripted that they didn’t even have a title until halfway into the second or third day. Again: they were banking on JeonJi to build upon their chaos to lead to a narrative and a title, etc. That is so telling to me. That them being together is the raison d'etre of this show. Jimin 'sacrificing' his time to fly to the US, Jeonkook making space in his busy schedule time to spend time unwinding, JeonJi making good on their need to finally spend time together after the booked and busy year they've had.
Jimin enjoying the hell out of Jungkook having fun.
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Because that is who Jimin has always been: his adventurous spirit takes him places because he loves exploring and being in tue moment. He'll willingly travel to have those moments. Jungkook on the other hand doesn’t. He dislikes leaving the comfort of his surroundings because he doesn’t see the pot of gold that being adventurous brings him while he's comfortable in his home. I relate 😩 so much. Just planning trips alone makes me enter a comatose state, so I'd rather not go than sacrifice my rest to plan an adventure. I don't even know I'll get anything out of. That is, until Im actually on that planned trip and having the time of my life! They've always been like that. Jimin had to be the incentive to get Jungkook out on that trip. Take.him.by the hand if you will 😭😭
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And then there's the stomach bug. YOU DAMMNED CURSED THING. It threw a HUGE wrench into their plans, and if anyone doesn’t take that into consideration, then you haven't had a stomachbug EVER while still having to face up to your commitments. Park Jimin will NEVER back down from his commitments, his promises *pinky promises* are sacred to him, and this bug took away the catalyst of this duo. Jungkook suddenly had to be the extrovert of the two, and boy, does he struggle in that role. He was to me his usuall baby elf self. So adorable and cute with his nose focused on food and Jimin’s care. But my man loves to rely on Jimin to lead the way in shenanigans and to make any moment entertaining, and you could just tell Jimin wasn't in his feels enough to overcome his lack of energy. Poor baby. Really, he's the best of us because I would have straight up refused to be filmed in that moment. A whole night of diarrhea and still showing up to film the next day?! NO MA'M NOT ME.
If you've read up to this point, I commend you. It was just supposed to be a short rant, but it became an entire essay because I can not with the overly reactionary nature some people show. Drawing entire conclusions based on two hour long episodes. I know, I might be contradicting myself here but extenuating circumstances and all. Jimin wasn’t on his game, and Jungkook was also recovering. When a show is banking on the chemistry between two people to shoulder the brunt of this show and said people are extremely sick, well then what can I tell you?
We need to sit back and enjoy the fact that we are getting such access to them, so unfiltered. Jikook enjoying each other, come rain or shine, in sickness and in health, whatever the mood brings, because that to me is more valuable than DRAMA or NARRATIVE. We'll probably get a bit more of that once they're going to Jeju, and they're both hopefully healthy. We're even getting a new element for them to play off of: Tete shows up! Like a jack in the box, and Jungkook seems to not be having it, lmao...see..unscripted and natural. I love that for them!
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Idols are people first, and we need to celebrate that, not demand more.
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wholoveseggs · 3 months ago
Note
hii
A gem was gardener part 1 wait ing for other parts desperately...
Also a tiny request plz make it a nice smutty happy ending cuz my heart broke after rules
Thanku love (in klaus voice:))))
The Gardener {Part Two}
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Part Two
Your mission to seduce Elijah continues, and it's becoming harder and harder to separate your feelings for him from your duty. Your ancestors call out to you, warning of death and destruction, and tensions within the coven are high. Your time is running out, and you have to find the white oak ash, and soon.
♡♡ ...Hiii anon, don't worry about it darling! ... the end will be the end and I promise it won't hurt {a lot} ~xoxo.♡♡
4.2k words - Warnings: smuuuuut, oral sex {f!receiving}, interrogation with a side of breakfast, visions, angst, deception, lies, a stupid self referencing joke, blurred lines, Klaus ruining the moment and lots of tension...
{Part One}{Part Three}{Part Four}
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{Elijah Mikaelson Tag-List }
@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv
@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming
@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse
@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2
@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury
@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28
@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy
@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson
@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp
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The following week had been filled with work, keeping up the appearance of an innocent gardener. It was easy enough, the herb beds were finished and now all you needed to do was keep them maintained and watered. It was a pleasant task, especially compared to the tasks ahead of you.
You had been avoiding Elijah, Agnes told you not to use him unless absolutely necessary, and so far, he had left you alone. He had been polite, friendly, but his presence had been a constant shadow. Stolen glances and flirty smiles, he was clearly interested.
You had tried to ignore him, but every time you saw him, you felt a rush of excitement and dread. He was the enemy, and yet, his presence made your heart flutter and your stomach churn. It was foolish, reckless, dangerous, and yet, there was no denying the pull.
It was early morning when you arrived at the compound, the air was cold and misty, the sun had just started to peek above the horizon. The courtyard was empty, and the whole compound was quiet, almost eerily so.
"Gardner! Just who I was looking for," Klaus' voice rang out, making you jump.
You spun around to find him leaning against the railing on the second floor, a grin on his face.
"Good morning, Mr. Mikaelson," you greeted, trying to keep the fear from your voice. "What can I do for you?"
He strolled down the stairs and approached you, a cocky smile on his lips.
"I was wondering if you would care to join me for breakfast?" He asked, stopping a few feet away from you.
You looked up at him, your stomach twisting with anxiety. You had hoped to avoid him as long as possible.
"Come now," he said, his voice smooth and seductive, "don't be shy."
You nodded, giving him a forced smile. He led you to the dining room, holding out a chair for you.
"Please," he said, gesturing to the seat. "Surely, you're hungry, and we have some things to discuss,"
You sat down, and he sat at the head of the table, looking pleased with himself. A number of servants came and went, bringing plates and glasses. One stopped and slit their wrist, pouring blood into a glass for Klaus, their expression empty.
You looked away, your stomach churning, you hated the sight of blood. The smell of the food made you nauseous, and the thought of eating was unbearable.
"So, my brother tells me you are a witch, I don't recall seeing that on your resume," he said, picking up his wine glass and swirling the blood inside.
"I didn't think it was necessary," you replied, trying to keep your voice even.
"Yes, well," he paused, taking a sip, "I'm sure you are aware of the current...situation,"
You nodded, avoiding his gaze, trying to quell your nausea. Klaus chuckled at your unease.
"Eggs?" He offered, holding up a plate.
"No, thank you," you said, forcing a smile.
He shrugged, setting the plate down and digging into the pile of food in front of him.
"The witches have been rather troublesome, plotting against my family," he said, taking a bite of sausage. "Do you know anything about that?"
"I'm afraid not," you lied, looking at him.
"Hmm," he mused, chewing slowly, his eyes narrowed.
"Why do you think I would be involved in any sort of plots?" You asked, taking a bite of toast. "Awfully presumptuous to lump all witches together, like we are some sort of monolithic entity."
"You are a witch, and I am a vampire, and our relationship is...contentious at best," he said, his blue eyes sparkling. "Besides, I have heard rumblings, whispers, of a new faction, a new coven-"
"Brother," Elijah's voice interrupted.
You looked over to see him enter the room, his expression stern. He gave Klaus a disapproving look before sitting down next to you at the table.
"Y/n," he said, smiling at you. "How are the herb beds coming along?"
"Very well, thank you," you replied, relieved by the interruption.
"Eggs?" Klaus offered, holding up the plate again.
"No, thank you," Elijah said, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
"You love eggs," Klaus teased, shoveling a forkful of egg into his mouth.
"Yes, but I am not in the mood," Elijah said, his voice sharp.
Klaus raised an eyebrow, and Elijah shook his head.
"Are you planning on interrogating her the entire meal?" Elijah said, looking over at his brother.
Klaus shrugged, shoveling another forkful of eggs into his mouth. "Whatever do you mean Elijah? This is simply a friendly breakfast,"
"It doesn't seem friendly," Elijah retorted, "and I think the poor girl is uncomfortable,"
"You worry too much, brother," Klaus said, grinning. "She's perfectly fine, aren't you?" He looked over at you.
"Yes, I'm fine," you said, trying to hide the unease in your voice.
"See?" Klaus said, giving Elijah a smug look. "There's nothing to worry about."
Elijah sighed and poured you a cup of coffee, pushing it towards you.
"Please, drink," he said, offering a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, my brother can be a bit...difficult,"
"Hey," Klaus interjected, his expression indignant. "I'm sitting right here."
Elijah ignored him and continued, "how are the herbs? Do you need any help with anything?"
"Everything is fine, thank you," you replied, taking a sip of the coffee. "I... Do have a question though,"
"Anything," Elijah said, looking at you, his hand resting on the table next to yours. You could feel the heat from his body, the tension between the two of you.
"Your choice of herbs, was that intentional?" You asked, looking up at him.
Klaus' eyebrows shot up, his gaze curious. "What do you mean?"
"The herbs in the greenhouse," you clarified, "you chose them for their magical properties, didn't you?"
"We did," Elijah admitted, his gaze thoughtful.
"What did you hope to accomplish with them?" You pressed, wanting more information.
Elijah was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the table, then he looked at Klaus, an unreadable expression on his face.
"Call it a precaution," Klaus said, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.
"A precaution?" You asked, confused.
Neither of them answered, but you could feel the tension in the room. There was an unspoken conversation going on between the brothers, and you were missing something.
"You worry about the wrong things," Klaus finally said, his gaze locked on Elijah. "Just get the job done and you will be well compensated,"
Elijah gave his brother a hard look, and then turned his attention back to you, a polite smile on his face.
"I can walk you back to the greenhouse," he offered, standing up.
"And leave all this food for me to eat?" Klaus exclaimed, his tone teasing.
Elijah ignored him and took your arm, helping you stand up.
"It was lovely having breakfast with you," Elijah said softly as he walked you to the door. "Perhaps we can do it again sometime."
"Sure," you said, not sure how else to respond.
The greenhouse was quiet when you returned, the sun streaming through the windows. You could smell the herbs, their fragrance filling the air. Elijah stood beside you, his hands in his pockets.
"Can we talk?" he asked, his tone gentle.
"Of course," you replied, looking up at him.
He smiled, and reached out, taking your hand in his. Your heart was pounding, your stomach churning. You had to keep reminding yourself that he was a killer, not the handsome and charming man he was portraying himself to be.
"I was hoping we could continue where we left off the other night," he said, his eyes dark with desire.
You swallowed, trying to push down the feelings that were threatening to overtake you.
"Elijah," you began, but he cut you off, pressing his lips to yours. You melted into the kiss, his hand resting on the small of your back, pulling you in close.
"I've been thinking about you," he murmured against your lips, "about that kiss,."
He stepped forward, moving you backwards until you hit the workbench. His hands rested on your hips, lifting you up and setting you down on the counter.
You couldn't deny how hot he was, or how much you enjoyed him taking control. You didn't have to pretend, not right now. The constant whispering of the ancestors fell silent, the stress and pressure you were under was lifted, if only for a moment.
You smiled against his lips, running your hands up his chest.
"I can't get you out of my mind," he whispered, his hand running through your hair.
You laughed softly, "Have I cast a spell on you?"
"If you did, I wouldn't mind," he said, his eyes dancing with amusement.
His hands moved slowly up your thighs, searching for the buttons of your pants. You giggled as he struggled, his fingers fumbling. He pulled back and looked down, frowning in confusion.
"You have to start up here," you smiled, biting your lip, pointing to the buckles of your overalls. "You probably don't hook up with a lot of women wearing these."
He smiled, mildly flustered. "I've taken off much more complicated garments than this," he said, flipping the buckles and tugging your pants down.
It was a bit of an awkward struggle to get them off, the two of you giggling and fumbling around. Finally, he was able to tug them past your hips, pulling them off and tossing them to the side.
He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, his tongue exploring your mouth. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer. He chuckled against your lips and slid his hands under your shirt, caressing your breasts. You moaned softly, arching your back, pressing into his touch.
His hands moved down your sides, sliding over your hips and thighs, pulling you closer. You could feel his arousal, hard and insistent, pressing against you.
"Am I moving too fast?" He asked, his eyes searching yours.
"Not at all," you whispered, kissing him.
He grinned, his thumb gently grazing over the swollen nub peeking through your panties ,a little wet patch had formed, the cotton clinging to you. You grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer. He chuckled and kissed you, his fingers moving slowly, exploring, teasing.
"Oh, you're so sensitive," he said, his voice low and seductive. "And beautiful."
Your fingers curled into his shirt, your eyes locked with his. He smiled, watching you react, enjoying the effect he was having on you.
"You like that?" He asked, his voice a deep purr.
"Yes," you whispered, your cheeks flushed.
"Good," he said, his finger slipping into you, making you gasp.
He hummed, his fingers moving in and out of you in a firm, steady rhythm. You were so wet, the filthy sounds were audible in the quiet of the greenhouse. He pressed his lips to yours, his fingers continuing their pace, driving you crazy. Your hands slid down, unbuckling his belt and fumbling with his zipper.
"In a hurry?" He teased, his breath warm on your skin.
"A little," you moaned, your eyes squeezed shut.
He chuckled, pulling his fingers from you, causing you to whine in protest. He knelt down, his hands sliding up your thighs, gripping the edge of your panties.
"Let me," he said, tugging the wet garment down and off.
You bit your lip, watching him, your heart pounding. He grinned, his hands pushing your knees apart. His tongue ran along the inside of your thigh, making you shudder. He paused, his gaze moving up, meeting yours.
"Is this alright?" He asked, his fingers tracing circles on the smooth skin.
"Yes," you whispered, your eyes fixed on him.
He smirked and then buried his face between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your swollen, slick cunt. You let out a moan, your hand grabbing onto his hair, pulling him closer.
He was good, infuriatingly so, his tongue licking and swirling, driving you wild. You could feel your climax building, the tension rising, his hands gripping your thighs, his tongue working its magic.
You were close, so close, your toes curling, your body trembling. You couldn't believe how good it felt, how amazing his mouth felt against your skin.
The silence in your mind was intoxicating, the freedom addictive. The only things that mattered were the waves of pleasure coursing through your body and the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips.
The pressure built, and you writhed, bucking your hips, grinding against his mouth. Reaching, reaching, reaching for the edge, desperate for release.
And then, you fell.
The world exploded in a blinding light, stars dancing behind your eyes. Your body shook, a tingling sensation spreading from your core, to the tips of your toes. The voices came rushing back, and with them visions of the past, of a life lived, of a future yet to be written.
You could see plants wilting, rotting in their pots, a tree splitting, its roots exposed, a forest fire, a raging inferno, consuming everything in its path. Ashes like rain, falling, blanketing the earth. You could hear screams of children, of a mother crying, a woman wailing. You saw blood, so much blood, the air thick with its coppery scent.
You screamed, your eyes wide, your body shaking, the images flooding your mind. It was too much, it was all too much. You couldn't breathe, the weight of it crushing you, suffocating you.
You felt two warm hands on your shoulders, shaking you, a soft, muffled voice calling to you.
"Are you okay? Come back to me, come back,"
Slowly, the images faded, the voices silenced, the pressure eased. Your heart was pounding, sweat covering your skin. You looked up, Elijah's worried expression coming into focus.
"Y/n?" He said, his voice laced with concern.
"I'm... I'm okay," you managed, your voice hoarse.
His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.
"What happened? You went away for a moment," He asked, his eyes scanning yours, searching for an answer.
"Y-you are just really good at that," you said, giving him a small smile, your voice shaking.
He wasn't convinced, his expression concerned. He was about to say something when Klaus' voice echoed through the greenhouse.
"Brother! Are you still here?"
You and Elijah looked at each other, his hands quickly fixing his pants, before he moved away.You forced a smile, the visions still lingering, the voices of your ancestors had returned, the blissful silence gone. He helped you stand, his hands lingering on your waist, his eyes full of questions. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but he could see through it.
"Do you need anything? Water, or..." He trailed off, searching for an excuse to stay, to make sure you were okay. "Did I upset you? I... I didn't mean to push."
You shook your head, trying to put him at ease. "No, it's not you, it's... I'm sorry, I can't,"
You were embarrassed, confused. You needed space, time to sort through the images and figure out what they meant.
"You're sure?" He asked, his voice gentle.
"Yeah, I'm fine, really," you said, trying to sound convincing. "Thank you, but I... I have work to do, I should go,"
"Okay," he said, reluctantly letting go of your waist.
You hurried to find your clothes, putting them on, ignoring the way the fabric stuck to your damp skin. He watched you, his expression thoughtful, his arms folded across his chest.
"Have dinner with me tomorrow?" He asked, his eyes hopeful.
You hesitated. "I'm not sure that's such a good-"
"Please," he said, his voice soft. "Let me take you out. We can have a nice, normal date."
You smiled, your heart fluttering. "Okay,"
He grinned, his eyes sparkling. "Great, I'll pick you up,"
You nodded, mustering your best smile. You couldn't shake the unease, the fear, the dread that was starting to creep in. There was a storm coming, you could feel it, and you weren't sure what to do.
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Agnes lit the last candle, the soft glow filling the room. She closed her eyes and whispered an incantation, the air thick with the scent of herbs.
Maeve wandered in and sat down beside you, watching Agnes.
"Is she trying to commune with the ancestors again?" Maeve asked, her voice laced with irritation.
"She is," you replied, keeping your tone neutral.
"It won't work," Maeve said, her voice harsh.
"I had a vision," you whispered, not wanting to distract Agnes.
"Of course you did," Maeve scoffed, her gaze fixed on Agnes. "They're always visions. Never anything helpful."
"Maeve," you warned, not wanting to argue.
You heard the sound of the latch being pulled and the other coven members entered, filling the room. Agnes signaled for the members to gather around the altar.
"Welcome," she said, her voice low and calm. "I have called this meeting to discuss an urgent matter,"
The coven murmured, exchanging glances, a sense of unease filling the room. Agnes looked over at you, gesturing for you to speak.
"We have a problem," you began, your voice shaking.
"What's going on?" A member named Ava asked, her voice concerned.
"I think I know what they want with the herbs," you said, your eyes scanning the group.
"Spit it out, girl," Maeve said, her tone sharp.
"We know they have been escalating this war, first with suppression, then an outright ban on magic. They have executed some of our families, and now they are planning to use the last thing we have against us," you said, taking a breath, steeling yourself.
"Which is?" Another member named Liza asked, her gaze focused on you.
"They're taking complete control of the vervain supply," you replied, "They're growing it, cultivating it, with the aim of controlling it,"
"That would explain why they were in need of a gardener," Beatrice said, her brow furrowed in thought.
"But why would they need complete control?" Liza asked, her voice full of concern.
"To take the last thread of control away from us," Agnes replied, her eyes full of worry. "They will keep it out of our water supply, and be able to compel any person they please,"
"And they will kill any competitors," you said softly, remembering the vision.
"Including you, with your little shop" Maeve said, her lips curled in a cruel smile. "So, you might want to focus on getting us the ash before they cut your pretty head off,"
"Any progress with getting the ash?" Beatrice asked, placing her hand on your shoulder, her gaze sympathetic.
"Not yet," you replied, shaking your head. "It's a delicate process."
Agnes nodded, looking around at the seven young women. "We must prepare, we need to find another way to protect ourselves. Our coven, our legacy is all that matters,"
The witches nodded, their expressions somber.
"Our ancestors are looking out for us, guiding us. We will survive, we will persevere," Agnes said, her voice resolute. "Y/n has seen it,"
"Oh yes, the vision," Maeve said, her eyes filled with sarcasm. "What have you seen?"
"I... I saw death and destruction," you said, your voice shaking.
"You can't be serious," Maeve scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You have had those visions hundreds of times,"
"Maeve," Agnes warned.
"No, this is ridiculous," Maeve shot back, her eyes narrowed. "We need the ash, and y/n isn't getting it. So, we need to find someone else who can."
"I'm doing my best," you said, trying to remain calm. "I have earned Elijah's trust, he will-"
"When and how did you have this vision?" Maeve demanded, cutting you off.
"This morning," you admitted, knowing there was no point in hiding it.
"Please dear, tell us how, perhaps it can add clarity to what is to come," Agnes said, her voice soothing.
You felt yourself blushing, your cheeks growing hot. "I... I was with Elijah, in the greenhouse," you began, avoiding their eyes.
"Your visions are usually caused by stress," Beatrice chimed in, her brow furrowed. "Was he threatening you in some way? Was it an argument?"
"No, no, nothing like that," you assured them, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "It was... I... It was after,"
"After what?" Liza asked, her interest piqued.
You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably. Everyone here knew you were trying to seduce him, that his blindspot was always with his lovers. But admitting that he had touched you, that you had let him, that was different.
"It was after he was intimate with her," Agnes said, her voice soft and understanding.
You could feel the judgment, the disapproval, the tension in the room. Beatrice took your hand and gave it a squeeze, trying to offer you comfort.
"How many times has that happened?" Maeve asked, her tone accusatory.
"Maeve," Beatrice warned, "she's making a great sacrifice for us,"
"Whoring herself out to an abomination," Maeve scoffed, shaking her head.
"That's enough," Agnes said, her tone sharp, cutting the argument short.
"It's fine, I understand her concerns," you said, trying to keep the bitterness from your voice. "I've been with him every day, I'm gaining his trust, it's only a matter of time before I find the ash."
The other members nodded, their faces grim.
"Y/n's way is the safest, they cannot know when we take it, or they will stop us with violence," Agnes said, her expression solemn.
"How long will it take?" Maeve asked, her frustration evident.
"I can't be sure," you admitted, shaking your head.
Maeve let out a frustrated groan and stood up, storming out of the room.
"I'm sorry," you said, looking around at the others.
"Don't apologize, it's a difficult task," Liza said, offering you a reassuring smile. "I could never have the will or strength to lay with a demon, much less one of the old ones."
You swallowed, forcing a smile, trying not to let the comment hurt. It wasn't exactly a burden to be with him, you couldn't deny that it had felt good. That there had been moments where the lines between what was an act and what was real blurred.
"He is a very handsome man," Beatrice added, trying to lighten the mood.
"That he is," Ava agreed, her eyes twinkling. "It's a shame he's so evil."
"Yes," you said, forcing a smile.
"I think that's all for tonight," Agnes said, giving you a kind smile. "As always, prepare, purify, for tomorrow could be the day we possess the ash."
You watched as the coven departed, their expressions somber, their shoulders hunched, each carrying the burden of your coven. You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, wondering if there was something more you could have done. If you should have tried harder, found a quicker solution.
"Are you okay, child?" Agnes asked, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"I'm fine," you assured her, mustering a small smile. "I'll get the ash, I promise,"
Agnes smiled, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze..
"Do whatever it takes, sweet girl, and stay safe, we need you for the ritual," Agnes said, patting your shoulder before leaving the room.
You looked over at the altar, the candles casting flickering shadows across the walls, the vines, and leaves twisting and twining around each other. It was beautiful, and it filled you with a sense of peace.
You had made a commitment, a promise to your coven, and you were going to do everything you could to keep it. 
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It was an odd feeling, to walk around town on the arm of a man that everyone hated and feared. People's heads turned as you passed, and whispers filled the air. You wanted to tell them that you were on their side, that you would fight for them, for their freedom. But you knew it would only cause more trouble.
Days had turned to weeks, turned to months. Each one the same, each night spent in his arms. And yet, every time he held you, kissed you, whispered words of love, it felt like the first time.
You felt like two people.
There was the you that he knew. The one who smiled, and laughed with him. The one who melted into his strong arms. Who listened to his stories, his plans, his dreams. The one who woke up beside him, hair tousled and with eyes full of sleep. The one who loved him, even if you weren't supposed to.
And then, there was the other you. The one who had a duty. The one who had a purpose, a mission, a destiny to wipe out his family. The one who had to lie, deceive, betray him.
Neither of them felt like you. Neither of them felt right. Both felt like an act. Like a betrayal.
The worst part was the way he looked at you. Like you were the only thing that mattered, the only thing he cared about. You were raised to hate him, to expect cruelty, violence, abuse. And yet, here he was, always so gentle, kind and affectionate. It made it hard to believe the things your coven had told you.
He was charming, witty, and intelligent. He made you laugh, he made you feel safe, and cherished. He was nothing like the monster you had expected, nothing like the one the others spoke of. If he wasn't an abomination, you could see yourself falling in love with him.
You couldn't.
You shouldn't.
But you did.
And it would only make what you were about to do, that much harder.
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{Part One}{Part Three}{Part Four}
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lvrhughes · 1 year ago
Text
Jack's Best Friend | L. Hughes
pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader
warnings: none?
word count: 1.4k
summary: You and Luke have always liked each other and Jack has always known, so he helps get you together
not my gif!
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“You can sit on Luke’s lap!” Jack's words rang silence through my ears at the thought, a blush covering my face at the realization. Looking over to Luke to see him shake his head, patting his leg for me to sit. 
It’s like Jack could see that no matter how hard I tried I’d get flustered around Luke, it’s like the minute Jack had read those five words in my diary before I caught and yelled at him, he’s been doing everything to force me with his brother. 
Not that I was complaining, maybe I was. 
Growing up with the Hughes was truly something, Jack became my best friend instantly. The little brunette running over to befriend me within five minutes of my family moving beside them. When they moved it was harder, yet Jack and I stayed the same. He was always the boy I was closest with, despite being younger than him. 
It was after I’d moved out, moving to New Jersey for university, getting a job there quickly, it was perfect. And I was close to my best friend, who randomly showed up once while I was in the shower and began reading my diary. 
“Jack! Drop the book!” The yelling scared him, dropping it and immediately hopping off the bed he was laying on. 
I had hoped he hadn’t read anything, but the following days when he made various remarks about Luke and how cute he was, it was clear what he had read.
I think I like Luke. 
I slowly walked over to luke, his arms open for me to sit, it was like the world was in slow motion as i got closer to luke, opting to sit on the arm of the couch when i got there. 
“Y/n/n, just sit on Luke's lap, I know that isn’t comfortable.”  Jack groaned when I sat down, sending a look to Luke so he’d pull me onto his lap. 
“Hey! It wasn’t umcomfy!” I groaned, lifting slightly from Luke’s lap to be immediately pulled back down. 
“You say that as if it isn’t my couch, that I’ve sat over there many times, I know it’s not comfy.” Jack argued back.
“Would the both of you shut up?” Quinn groaned from the other side of the couch, his head leaned over the armrest. 
“Sorry, most of us didn’t go out last night so we aren’t hung over!” Jack played back, earning a smack from quinn before he groaned again. 
“Quinn went out?” I asked, curiosity dripping from my voice, Luke’s grip tightening as i leaned forwards. Quinn was never the party-er, I would’ve expected Jack to be out last night, not quinn. 
“Oh yeah, he found a cute girl when we went out for drinks last night,” Jack started a grin on his face, “Me and Luke went home at 10, he stayed out til 2am doing shots with her!” Jack cheered, finding amusement in Quinn’s hungover state. 
“I’m going to my room before I throw up on you.” Quinn glared, getting up slowly, kicking jack in the groin, making him bend over with a groan. 
Laughter erupted from Luke and I, his grip tightening as we laughed, keeping me set on his lap as Jack glared at us. 
“I’m sorry,” I managed to get out in between laughs, “it’s funny though!” 
“Sure, sure, laugh it up.” Jack glared again, staring down me and luke, a smile growing on his face at the scene.
 Luke's arms tight around my waist, both laughing while he holds me, smiles on both our faces as he sits beside us and grins at the scene. 
Luke caught Jacks grin, sending a look his way, ensuring I’d catch on after getting us to both send a confused look towards Jack. 
He just wiggled his eyebrows at us, earning a smack from Luke, making him groan again, and me to turn away with a blush covering my cheeks. 
“Don’t hit me! You’re the one who-” Jacks cry was cut off with another hit, harder this time, to his arm. “Ow.” He complained, holding his arm.
“Jack?” Luke’s voice was soft, scared of his brother's reaction to telling him. 
“What’s up?” He looked at his little brother, pausing his game to look at him. 
“I think I have a crush.” Jack’s eyes widened at the confession, fighting not to play with him but instead try to help his brother. 
“Why’re you telling me this?” It seemed a fitting question, Luke usually talked to Quinn about everything, so why was he telling Jack now?
“Because you know her.” Then it hit Jack, his little brother liked his best friend. 
“You like her.” 
That was when Luke was 14, Jack was 16. Luke had never outgrown the crush on his brother’s best friend, no matter how many times he lied and said he had. It was clear to Jack that he’d always like her, if not love her. 
Luke’s arms wrapped around my waist again, holding me against his chest while he leaned back. Jack’s glare on Luke again, letting out a quiet laugh at the sight. 
“What are you laughing at? You’re not innocent here either, you also li-” Jacks words cut off again by me hitting him, hitting his arm as hard as I could, earning a muffled sob from him before he cradled his arm.
“Ow.” His winced, Luke laughing beside him as I sat back on Luke’s lap. Letting Lukes arms hold me in place again, listening to Jack’s whines beside us. 
“Shut up and you won’t get hit, crazy idea, huh?” The sarcasm dripped from my voice, turning on Luke’s lap to face Jack, earning Luke's hands to tighten their grip on my waist. 
I could see the gears turning in Jack’s head, a smile returning to his face. Luke could see the plan forming, panic covering his face. 
“I’m going to say something, and run, okay?” Jack said, his hands on the couch bracing himself to get up and run quickly. 
“No, you’re not.” Luke countered, making you nod in agreement. 
“Nope, saying it.”
“Jack-” Luke’s plea was cut off by Jack.
“Luke, you like her. Princess, you like him.” The words came out rushed as he got up to run, darting into the kitchen to cut through the house to his room. The use of the nickname stunned be for a second before realizing what he had said. 
“JACK!” The yell of his name was full of panic, getting off Luke quickly to run to Jack’s room, opening the door quickly. The window was open, Jack not inside, instead his silhouette could be seen running to the boat where apparently Quinn was passed out. 
Luke came rushing in shortly after, pushing his way into the room to see me standing in front of the window.
“Where’d he go?” 
“Jumped out the window, running to the boat.” The clear tone of un-amusement in my voice, turning to look at Luke. 
His hand in his pockets, leaning on the heels of his feet, his hair messy from running through the house. He looked perfect. 
“I’m sorry.” Both of our apologies spilling out at the same time, leaving a confused look on both of our faces. 
“What are you sorry for?” He asked.
“Jack just told you I um,” the words tapered off, not wanting to admit what was shared again. 
“And Jack just told you I love you.” His words confident, the opposite of mine. 
“You love me?” 
“I think I’ve loved you since I was 14.” He admitted, stepping closer, taking his hands out of his pocket.
“That long?” I didn’t honestly know how to reply, saying the only thing that came to mind. 
“I think honestly, I’ve always loved you.” 
The words were enough to encourage stepping forward, wrapping my arms around his shoulders while he leaned down. Pressing a kiss to my lips, his arms wrapping around my waist to pull me flush against him. My hands tangled through his hair, gently tugging on the strands, making him softly groan. 
“Don’t do that” He mumbled against my lips, making me giggle before he pressed his lips back into mine. 
“Ew! In my room!” Jack’s high pitched squeal interrupting the moment.
“Your fault, you're the one who jumped out the window, we just went to follow you.” I answered, leaning my head against Lukes chest, his head tilting down to press a kiss to the top of my head.
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unhingedexperimenter · 3 months ago
Note
(You can tag me on my tgs side blog. I also apologize but I know a few Scottish words. So to anyone reading this I apologize for the inaccuracy.) Becky Boxleitner noticed a change in the atmosphere as she and her pet monkey Bob walked into the sixth grade classroom. All of the students were excitedly chatting with one another. Becky and Bob exchanged confused looks at the scene. 'What is going on?' They both thought. Becky walked to where her friends Violet Heaslip, Rose Franklin, and Todd Scoops Ming were sitting, also joining in the excited yet low volume chattering. "Hey guys what's going on?" Becky asked her friends. They each turned their heads to greet their friend. "Hey Becky guess what, we're getting a new teacher for our class!" Scoops exclaimed. Becky looked surprised at the announcement. Bob also mimicked her facial expression. "Wait really? What happened to Miss Davis?" Becky asked, wondering what happened to their old teacher. It was just a week only into the new school year so a sudden teacher exchange was a complete shock to Becky especially since there were no announcements about it beforehand. "Miss Davis had to move back home because of a family emergency." Rose Franklin answered. "The principal had to scramble to find a new teacher to fill in for our class. It was all last minute stuff." Becky nodded in understanding of her friends' answers. It was a nice perk to be friends who were upcoming reporters. Soon the final bell rang which indicated for every student to take their seats. Becky took her place beside her best friend Violet and Bob plopped down next to her. Soon a man who looked to be in his mid 30s walked in and towards the desk. He had curly brown air, an arched nose, and reddish brown eyes. He wore a tan button-down shirt with a red vest as well as brown slacks and dark suede shoes. The man gave a pleasant and warm smile to all the students there. "Hello my name is Dr. Henry Jekyll and I will be your teacher for the school year." Becky and the other kids ears perked up as they took note of the man's accent. Even Tobey became slightly interested in his new teacher. None of them were sure where their new teacher was from. Dr. Jekyll gave a light chuckle as if he could sense their growing curiosity about him. He lightly clapped his hands together to gain their undivided attention and focus. "Well since this is my first time teaching here, why don't we all play a little game so we can all get better acquainted with each other. Here's what to do. One at a time, say your name and share a wee bit about yourself. Likes, family, interests and all that. I'll go first to show ya what ah mean. Again. My name is Dr. Henry Jekyll. I was born in Glasgow but ah moved to London where I attended university. I have a five year old wee lassie or daughter named Amber. I enjoy chemistry and reading on occasions. Now who would like to go next?" @unhingedexperimenter
Of course Tobey had taken the opportunity to place attention on himself and to have a reason to boast about himself. “My name is Tobey McCallister the third and I will be the most intelligent student you'll meet here.” The others had rolled their eyes, used to this kind of behavior from their peers. Becky seemed to be the most annoyed by it. Having been forced to put up with his destructive tantrums in the past. Henry smiled just as warmly as before. Unbothered by the obnoxious behavior that the boy had been displaying. Tobey had been going on about himself for a good few minutes before the teacher finally spoke up. “Ahem, yes. Thank you for that Mr. McCallister. Would anyone else like to tell me a bit about themselves as well?” No one could tell that behind the facade, Dr. Henry Jekyll was becoming more irritated by the moment. Not by the child but by the pest that refused to leave him be. Scoffing within his head at what they just heard. He didn't share the disembodied voice's opinion but wanted to give the other children a chance to introduce themselves as well. To the others' shock, Tobey seemed to have taken this well. Quickly going back to his desk with no issues. Becky was relieved at that. Soon the other children had started to introduce themselves to their new teacher with little to no issues. He seemed genuinely nice enough to her. This new teacher didn't seem like most of the adults within this city. Some she had to define words repeatedly for. Dr. Jekyll knew what he was teaching and knew his vocabulary. It was Violet who had brought Becky out from her own thoughts, calling her name. Waving a hand in front of her face. “Becky?” The girl smiled in an embarrassed manner. “Huh? Yes?” Violet smiled, patient with her best friend. “Why don't you introduce yourself now? Nearly everybody else already did.” She had given a surprised expression. Becky hadn't realized that she was so lost within her thoughts until then. She stood up and began speaking. “My name is Becky Boxleitner and I also like libraries,reading and Pretty Princess.” The presence that was grating at the teacher's nerves had deemed this too dull to enjoy. Leaving Dr. Jekyll be to his teaching. Well, getting to know his students. He was happy to see that they were engaged in these activities that were meant to break the ice. Though one student in particular had caught his attention the most. Becky. While she did seem rather bright, there was something strange about her behavior at times. Pausing whatever she was doing at the time to listen in on something. Thinking it went unnoticed. Even once looking alarmed and she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. He had allowed it. Feeling that it would've been better to have let her. It seemed…oddly familiar. As if he had seen that behavior somewhere before but couldn't figure out exactly where from. When the school day was finally over, Becky had gone to go home like the others. Dr. Jekyll had of course stayed behind to set more things up within his new classroom. Making a plan on exactly what he'll actually start teaching the next day. Though, the grating voice had returned to be a thorn in his side. “Come on. Leave this boring stuff alone. Leave it until tomorrow. I've been pent up for far too long. Let's have some fun.” This had earned an eye roll and a loud huff from the teacher. “No, I've got to get this done now. You will have enough time tonight. Just be patient until then.” A shadowy figure formed in front of Dr. Jekyll. A frown on its face. “But this is so extremely dull. I want to stretch my legs. I want to make myself known already.” Dr. Jekyll glared. “And that is precisely why I'm so hesitant to let you out so soon. At least let us get acclimated to our surroundings first.” The figure let out an annoyed groan. “You know you want this as much as I do. Otherwise you'd never have any actual fun in the sad and pathetic life you call yours.”
@thecountoflondonfansite
#rp
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kaszuma · 5 months ago
Text
Mockery | Hoshina Soshiro
Part 0 of “Certainly Yours”
pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader
summary: Mina Ashiro needed a team. But the moment she found one, she was at a loss at what to do when her Vice Captain and Lead Technician got off on the wrong foot.
warnings: Slight Kn8 B-side Manga Spoilers, Mentions of Soshiro struggling with self-worth, Mentions of slight animosity between you and Soshiro but nothing too major, First-time meeting, Mentions very few graphic depictions of slaying Kaiju.
wc: 9,712
note: Hello! Sorry for the long wait.
I originally planned to write Part 7 first. but decided to write Part 0 as a special chapter since I've hit a hundred followers. But by the time I finished, we hit 150. Thank you lots!!
There is less romance on this one, since it's a prequel to Part 1 of Certainly Yours. I originally wanted to incorporate a rivalry or an initial animosity between reader and Soshiro. So this was my best attempt on the subject.
There is a lot more interaction and inner pining because it's still in the initial stages in the relationship. And I had a difficult time cross referencing B-side manga with the things I've already written thus far. I’m disappointed we don't really have much information on Soichiro. And I have big plans to incorporate him in a separate part in much more excruciating detail later down the line. Involving jealousy..
Anyways. For now, I shall write Part 7 and give ya'll the comfort you need. Might be the big I love you's, you're looking for. Wink wink.
Also, please tell me if I missed any warnings. None of these are proof read and my phone lags really bad when I post 9k words worth of fanfiction.
The feeling of being needed was a foreign concept that Soshiro Hoshina had never experienced for himself.
The road that he paved himself had always been a lonesome one. Carved by the very callouses of his own fingertips. Where he'd dive headfirst into the nose of a cliff filled with criticisms and comparisons. The world familiar to him had always been accompanied by a sense of mockery for his craft. A sneaky way to bury his existence in the wake of the world that had been full of firearms and expert Kaiju exterminators.
In the face of it all, he had always been frustratingly average.
Not nearly as bright as the way his older brother had burned for the adrenaline of the battlefield. The use of firearms, specialized tools and weaponry that had been modernized to slay larger than life Kaiju. Had always been stacked against him. Someone who was not born with the innate ability to tackle such large threats. His use had been chained to the blade. One so sharp and pristined to the point of no return.
For as long as he remembered, it had always been like this.
Even before he had joined the Defense Force of his own volition. He had always felt inferior in the way his brother Soichiro had bested him in every sense of the word. A genius incarnation that had rarely been born into the Hoshina family's already impressive lineage. In a family who prided themselves as generational Kaiju-slayers.
By all means, Soichiro Hoshina was the perfect man born for the front lines. His presence alone dominated the field. Any Challengers he'd face would be a place where normal people would never be able to reach.
He mastered a variety of martial arts at a young age. Already flipping over instructors each time he was paired to a battle in an attrition of self-defense.
The sword techniques passed down within the generations of his ancestors, had all been perfected to improve upon his own. His sword an extension of his arm each time he wielded it. And in terms of firearms? Soshiro couldn't begin to imagine ever reaching the height of his brother's skill. The gap between them in terms of long ranged attacks had been far too large for him to delusionally think he'd ever make it. Let alone surpass.
And although their youngest was plenty good at the progress of his own swordsmanship. Soichiro was on an entirely different level than he was.
A genius, some would call him. A fact the younger Hoshina was far too aware of.
The dust he left behind when he ran forward was often a sight Soshiro was familiar with. Sweeping him off of his feet each time he'd issue a direct challenge with his older brother.
And although he hated to admit it. Soichiro Hoshina's existence was both an inspiration and a mockery to his own.
A frustrating truth that even he had no choice but to believe.
His enigmatic older brother had always been a person who was destined to become the Captain of the sixth division. And his junior of five years, who had not excelled in anything but his skill in close quarter combat. Had all but stood in his shadow, destined to live a much ordinary life as an instructor like his family suggested.
Not a single person expected him to keep fighting.
To keep swinging that blade of his which had been both a boon and bane for his existence in the defense force.
Each humorous jab, or critical comment directed his way, had always been replied with a simple smile on his cat-like features. Far too exhausting to correct the people who had never dreamed to understand what he wished for.
And even if they never did, even if no one ever believed that he'd be able to survive the chaotic life of killing a Kaiju with a blade alone. He'd fight tooth and nail if he had to, In an effort just to keep his style of combat alive.
Because swinging the sword had always been something he found extreme joy in.
He refused to let this be the written ending for his story. Refused to let fate decide on the path to his future actions. Not when his undoing had all been decided by his unlucky birth.
Had Soshiro existed in a different era, far away from Soichiro. Things may have turned out much differently, he imagined.
But alas, he was stuck fighting. Climbing the gritty stairs of progress. Dragging the heavy weights of his blades all the way to the bloody top. And It showed in the way he never stopped practicing. His personalized equipment had always remained in top condition. The sharp end of that thinly-cut mass of iron had always been razor edged and cut-throat in the way it was maintained. Not even a dent could be seen on the damn thing.
By all means the weapon he held had always been ready. Waiting in fact, for the day Soichiro would mess up and stumble.
And for some reason? Soshiro had a feeling that day would be today.
It was their usual four round duel. An agreement between brothers who'd meet up every afternoon at the end of their respective classes for the weekday. Books packed hastily in an effort to rush home so that they could clash blades in the open spaces of their house's courtyard.
It had been a daily routine at this point.
Often, Soshiro would be the first to come home. Dropping his bag onto the floor of his bedroom and rushing to wear his hakama which had been prepped on the foot of his bed. And the moment he puts it on, he shows no hesitation when he grabs an appropriately sized bamboo blade that he kept nearest his closet.
Soichiro, who was the last to come, had always returned home with his little brother already waiting for him at their usual spot. Stance wide and ready to begin their matchup.
And although he often found his determination awe inspiring.
The older brother was far too aware of his own blood's presence. His eagerness to catch him off-guard had been made clear. Always at the ready in the case he'd make a mistake so that he could close the gap in skill between them.
And Soichiro. Who was as equally as cunning as he is. Had always been one step ahead, at the ready for any of Soshiro’s practiced attacks that even he knew could catch up to him at any moment.
Genius my ass. What's the point of being called that when your younger brother was so close to surpassing you? His progress in the blade is abnormally fast.
And to Soichiro. It was utterly terrifying.
“Yer too stiff ya’ little wimp. How do you expect to swing and hit me when that stance of yours is too rigid.” Soichiro pointed out. His chin pointed at the darker haired boy's much smaller feet. The boy hadn't even hit a growth spurt yet. And at this point he had been much taller than Soshiro's current height. His little brother barely reached the waistband of his Hakama giving him an ample advantage in build.
“Tryin’ something new. Now shut yer’ trap and let me hit ya!” Soshiro replied. The same serious look plastered on his face.
And such a challenge is met by his brother's own smirk. “Quite the yapper today aren't ya?” He laughs.
“-Fine. If you managed to hit me once, I'll let you go at me for another round. That ‘a deal?”
“Don't even need to ask.” Soshiro smirks. And with quick footwork, the boy had already reached his older brother's inner circle.
His steps were precise in the way he wasted no unnecessary limbs in his movement. In three short steps he had been faced to face with him. The tip of his bamboo sword already pointed at the very sky. Ready to strike him in the shoulder in an attempt to have him drop his own weapon. A technique he had done plenty of times to Soshiro before.
But the braided haired boy had been quicker. More experienced for his age. Foreseeing the minor tells his brother would exhibit when striking his sword down. And he wastes no time, pouncing to the side. Narrowly avoiding the heavy hand that had almost hit him on the jugular. Where he knows would've hurt.
It was done in quick succession. Soshiro didn't even have time to realize that his brother had turned on his heel. His blade held with one hand, had swept the ground to hit his very ankle. Effectively throwing him off balance. Making Soshiro yelp as he landed on his rear. Sword slipping from the tight grasp of his fingertips which had not grown enough to garner a steady grip yet.
And he could hear Soichiro’s obnoxious laughter echoing from in front of him. Slapping his leg to try and calm his breathless laughter.
“Whoops, nearly thought you had me there didn't ya?” He places his free hand over his stomach whilst he slung his sword over his shoulder. Trying not to pop a vein while laughing so hard.
And the jolly expression on his face alone had made Soshiro grit his teeth.
“Hah!? One more round and I'll make ya’ eat dirt you big bonehead.” Soshiro had replied. Already scampering about to grab his sword from the sidelines. Readying his stance for another round.
But a little known fact about Soichiro is that his interests never linger on him for too long. Only allowing the younger boy a total of four rounds per day. No more, no less. Had that number exceeded. He'd spare no glance and show disinterest on entertaining the boy no more. And his laughter soon dies down.
“Nope, No way! That's the fourth loss in a row. That's ‘bout enough for today Soshiro.” The older boy shook his head nonchalantly. Fixing up the loose strands of his braid as he turned to walk away. Uninterested now that the battle had ended quickly.
“You coward–One more round! I ain’t done with you yet!!” Soshiro yelled. But he sees the way his older brother was already kicking the wooden sandals off his feet. Walking back inside where the scorch of the afternoon sun would not hit him. And mock reply he'd refuse much louder than before.
“Nope.” His mouth popped.
“Them's the rules, I'm afraid.. Now I’m starvin, let's go grab a bite to eat.”
He sees the way Soichiro had not spared a second to look back. Immediately making a beeline to the Kitchen where he knew a few snacks would be waiting for them.
But unlike the eldest, Soshiro had stubbornly stomped behind his brother. Trying his best to keep up with the older boy who had much larger strides in his steps.
“That ain't fair, you said you'd give me five rounds today!”
“I said I'd give ya an extra round IF ya’ managed to hit me. And beggars can't be choosers here seeing as how not one of your attacks managed to graze me at all.”
“-Looks like you'll need more trainin’ ya little twerp.” His hand had reached to pat him on the head. But Soshiro had slapped it away before it could ruffle the tips of his hair.
“Quit callin me twerp ya Bonehead! I'm not the one who's running away–Come back here so I can kick yer’ sorry butt!” He chased after him. A common sight for the household who often saw the siblings bicker with one another.
But Soichiro was too fast. The pleasant smile on his face remained as he grabbed a rice ball nearest the counter. All the while effectively avoiding the smaller one's tackles.
It had been a few seconds more before Soshiro would give up in his pursuit. The sound or his grumbling stomach made Soichiro want to laugh. But he figured he could spare the poor boy the embarrassment of pointing that out.
Eventually, Soshiro stopped. Grabbing a rice ball of his own, he chooses to sit at the tatami nearest the windowsill of their home. And with much delight begins munching on the rice ball with a fuming look on his face.
He hadn't given up..he’s just a little hungry. That's all. He reminds himself.
“One of these days I'll beat ya’ on the first swing. Just you wait.” And that sentiment makes his older brother smile.
“That so?” Soichiro replied. Sitting beside the younger boy who had taken large bites from his own food. And unbeknownst to Soshiro, a smile appears on the corner of his older brother's lips.
“Well, guess I should buckle up and train too. Wouldn't want my wimpy little brother here to get ahead of me. Now do I?” The younger one couldn't help but roll his eyes. Clearly unamused that his brother had taken to scorn him again.
“Train with what? You're already plenty good at everything else. Yer’ just being mean.” Soichiro couldn't help but chuckle at his brother's small pout. Already grabbing him another rice ball to hand to him, as a form of apology. And Soshiro wastes no time to accept his offer. Enjoying the fresh grains of rice wrapped in that salty seaweed sheet. A singular pickled plum had peaked from within the blankets of warm grains.
“Sure. But I ain't about to slack off and give ya an easy-win.” Soichiro chuckles. Though for some reason, his voice had been far kinder than usual. “-Besides…”
Soshiro pauses, raising a brow at his older brother who had stared at the golden rays nearest the open window. And a strange expression was etched on his very face.
“I'm willin’ to bet that someday..yer’ gonna find someone who's gonna need you. With or without that blade of yours.”
And he raises his head to meet his older brother's strange smile.
It had been a selfish, childish desire for sure. One that disliked the idea of his younger brother overlapping him one day. The sheer dedication and progress he had been making was a far cry to his own. But those words, he meant sincerely. And whether Soshiro was aware of that, he was sure that one day he'd at least think back on it as simply words of mockery to discourage him.
And he did not bother to correct him.
It had been a few years since then. And for some reason those words stuck to Soshiro like a moth with a lamp.
It was uncharacteristic of Soichiro.
Even after he cut ties with his older brother. He had always found that sentiment of his, strange. The enigmatic Soichiro did not usually go out of his way to comfort him. Let alone aid him in his training. In fact, he distinctly remembers all the times the braided haired boy discouraging him each time they dueled. Demotivated him to stop in his endeavors.
It wasn't uncommon for his anger to boil when it came to Soichiro’s demeaning behavior. His words, often echoing on days where he’d fail to prove his worth to the defense force.
And although he knew Soichiro was only teasing him. His constant onslaught of berations had made him think he needed to improve upon his flaws even more. His words of mockery, a lingering thought on the back of his mind that would've normally made a person give up. Had only strengthened his resolve. And his actions only lead to even longer strides of hard work that only evolved each passing moment he'd swing his sword.
So why was it that those words of his didn't sound like mockery at all?
Had his brother meant it? When he told him he'd find someone who'd need him with or without the skill of his blade?
It had been almost an entire decade since he last saw his brother. Who had gone straight ahead and became a captain of his own division. And Soshiro had just about joined the defense force. Hoping to prove his worth.
But that was easier said than done.
It wasn't until Mina Ashiro had walked in. Scouting him directly from the Kansai District. Offering him a chance to join the Third Division and rise to the top to become her Vice Captain. But even then, it had still felt like a blow to his existence who had been fighting just to stay in the game.
“I need your abilities. Will you join my force, Hoshina?” Captain Ashiro of the Third Division had spoken. Unabashed upon his entrance to her office. It had been one of those rare instances where he got to visit the Tokyo District. And he wondered if the woman in front of him was being serious in her resolve.
“Me?” He gives a wry chuckle. “Not sure I follow Captain.”
“You're a blade specialist. Yes?”
“That's correct.” He spoke with a weary formality.
“We can't overlook the possibility of miniature-sized Kaiju cropping down the line.” The Captain had spoken with determination. And her eyes meet Soshiro's with much the same determination she had when she first offered him a place next to her.
“When I need to shoot a threat, can I trust that you'll clear a path for me?”
Soshiro was frozen on the spot.
He was practically unable to answer her. Too shocked at the mere possibility of being offered a need for his skill with the blade. He had been forced to carry a gun with him before, and that didn't end well. Yet here she was, seeking assistance in a blade specialist who had so often struggled to keep up with entire platoons who had wielded firearms instead of steel.
So why now? Why was it when he resolved to only use blades did Captain Ashiro of the Third Division scout him out? Modern Kaiju of this day and age were large. Gigantic with plated shells that even firearms had struggled to pierce through. What good would a sword do in that situation?
And yet even then, he thought about it.
The possibility of fighting his way in the midst of soldiers who carried firearms and freezing rounds. The sheer thought of rushing forward and slicing Kaiju with the perfected combat abilities he had been polishing way before he had resolved to join the Defense Force.
But before he could resolve to make an answer, the door had opened. And you had entered the fray.
“Him? Well I suppose this isn't the first time the Third's willing to recruit strange people.”
Strange?
Soshiro had looked to the side. Catching a glimpse at your figure as you slowly closed the door behind you. Hands shoved to the front pocket of your lab coat as you walked right next to him. Saluting towards Captain Ashiro to formally greet her upon meeting her gaze.
“Captain.” You addressed. Right beside Soshiro. And you could feel his stares poking through your sides.
“At ease.” The Captain looks back towards him. “Officer Hoshina. This here, is the Third's Lead Technician. She's a weapons specialist and will be here to provide your support should you choose to join our division.”
The sweet smile on your face had not faltered. Taking you back to a relaxed stance as you came face to face with Soshiro’s own scrutiny. His raised eyebrow had been an indication of his hesitancy towards you.
Your eyes had made contact with his. And although squinted, you could see the glimpse of his wine colored eyes. Observing you thoroughly from head to toe.
You weren't exactly sure what was running in his thoughts at the moment. But his skepticism was met by a similar opinion of your own. Not entirely sure if he was as good as Captain Ashiro praised him to be. Though you had to admit, he was at least somewhat nice on the eye.
“I heard about you.” He tilts his head. Fox-like in his gaze. And a smile had stretched amusingly on the corners of your lips.
“Oh? Good things I hope?” He looked unbothered. Though in a sense that his kindness was only a front that he had all but gotten used to in hiding. Likely from your comment from earlier. And you had an inkling that he had a few things to say of his own. Sly in the way he'll word it.
”I suppose..” His reply was curt.
“Heard yer’ one of the few technicians that actually make Specialized Bioweapons, that about right?”
You nod. “Only for the strange ones.”
“-Ones that can't conform to the normalcy of standard firearms. Much like you, it seems.”
This makes Soshiro’s lips quirk. Suddenly very aware that your statement had been a jab of sorts. One he had gotten used to from his own division. And such a challenge was directly and expertly countered back in tandem.
“Well yer’ not so normal yourself ya’ know?” His accent had been made much clearer. And your eyebrows raise. Slightly irate in the way he jabbed at you. Though you let him continue, just to see if he could keep up with his own feist.
“-Heard you were the Technician that was kicked out for bein’ so stubborn to work with.”
And you had to hold back a wry chuckle. It seems his smile had a few sharp claws to fight back with. “So you've heard.”
“-But I suppose you too are used to that very sentiment, yes?” Your words seem to make that easy smile of his falter slightly. It was a miniscule comment, but judging by the way he had remained silent. The tension of the room grew weary as the two sparked a similar glare for each other. And although he found the situation slightly amusing, his displeased conversation had definitely soured his thoughts of joining.
Maybe the Third Division wasn't the place for him either.
What were the chances he'd have a different point of view should he switch divisions now? Your existence proved the very mockery his brother had implied. His Father who was normally supportive had not praised him for wanting to join the Defense Force when all he had was his skill in the blade. And the thought alone is enough to convince him otherwise.
Captain Ashiro's offer had been tantalizing, but not definite. And he has half a mind to excuse himself before things could escalate.
But as luck would have it. Captain Ashiro had been observant. Her intentions were never to have them be at odds with one another. And she clears her throat in the hopes she could ease the tension in the room slightly.
Administering as the only superior officer in the room. Who needed to take much responsibility.
“Sleep on it, Hoshina. We could use a close combat specialist like you out there.”
And whether or not she meant that. There hadn't been much time before an alert went off. A pin placed on his thoughts as he had found himself participating with the Third's mission to exterminate acid spitting Kaiju on the eastern side of the Kanto region.
Despite his hesitance. The thought of it still remained. And as if magnetized, he found himself willingly transfering to the Third Division. Somehow surviving a Kaiju attack that he had helped fend off with Captain Ashiro's help.
His sword. One he brought with him from back home. Had all been melted to the hilt. Its black steel had an unnatural wave of color on it. A result of his reckless actions when he remembered having to cut through the insides of a Kaiju's mouth. Saving both himself and a child from being devoured and melted.
Had Captain Ashiro and Okonogi; the Third's Lead Operations gal. Not hac impeccable timing, he was sure he would've been dead meat by now. And yet here he was, alive coupled with only a few bruises on his sore body.
After a few days, he had recovered fairly well since then. Deployed from the hospital after a back and forth discussion between the Tokyo and Kansai district. And he had finally gotten permission for his official transfer. h
His things were readily packed as he made his way to the bunkers of Tachikawa's base.
And just as he had stared at the broken blade, he had debated on whether or not he should've just thrown it out to get a new one.
It took ages to convince the Kansai district to forge him a blade. Steel that could withstand the strength of Kaiju skin. Or have a high enough melting point so that the acidic burns of its saliva and stomach were not affected by it. But that type of material was hard to come by. Let alone, he doubts command would grant him access to such weaponry when he had done nothing to prove his usefulness.
So even then, when he had been given the minimum necessity, he had been careful in its uses. Unsure whether or not his platoon leader would allow him to be given a replacement blade when he had so little opportunity to showcase his skill infield.
He’d likely have to ask Platoon Leader Ebina for a replacement. He had so few extra blades to spare. But the Third had at least been kinder to him than his last division. Surely they'd grant him better access to the weaponry of his choice, right?
Though just as he loathed the thought. His footsteps halted.
And in the middle of the empty hallways, nearest the corner where the sleeping quarters should be. Your eyes had met with his once more. The first time in a while since your encounter in the confines of Captain Ashiro's office.
“It's you.” You had spoken.
Suddenly aware that he had been staring at the broken blade in his hand. Unfazed by the heavy duffle bag he had carried with his other arm. The sudden softness of your voice had been unexpected to say the least. Given the last animosity you both displayed towards each other.
You walked closer to inspect the melted steel. Having already heard the report from Captain Ashiro’s latest mission. And for a moment, he feels as if you had looked almost displeased at the weapon. Guilty for having assumed the worst of him. “Looks like the acid's melted it down. I assume you have a spare?”
He nods. Sheathing the broken shortsword back in its holster. Making it look like it hadn't been broken at all. “That's right. Though I ain’t excited that I'm gonna hafta' throw another one out.”
This makes you smile. And his eyes had widened ever so slightly at the sight of your pretty teeth
So that's what you looked like when you smiled.
“Figures. It isn't very common for people to use steel against Kaiju nowadays. Let alone swords.” You spoke slowly. And this time, you see the way his mouth visibly frowns. A stark contrast to that usual unbothered smile of his when you had first met him.
“Well I ‘spose I'm not your common folk.” He spoke tight-lipped. And you cringe inwardly at your thoughtless words.
You hadn't meant that. A force of bad habit it seems. One that came from a place of wanting to help.
A soldier’s life, especially one that dealt with monstrous Kaiju, had always tipped the balance between life and death. And you had thought it reckless to see him remain stubborn when you first heard your Captain praise Soshiro's skill in the blade. Your impression on him, had made you think he was a reckless fool who did not value his life. At least not enough to learn how to handle firearms.
Though now, after having witnessed his actions through Okonogi and a few key witnesses from that day. You knew that you had been wrong in your assumptions. Planning to make amends the only way you knew how.
Your place as a Technician who could only fight through the weapons you made. One that you hoped would help people survive. Even for just a minute longer, just to make a difference.
“I didn't-” Your words were cut short. Not entirely sure why your voice had cut from the tip of your tongue. So instead you move closer grabbing the hilt of his blade from his fingertips. And that alone makes Soshiro tilt his head in confusion. “Here, let me have a look.”
And he watches you admire the weight and feel of the weapon. Staring at the black leather hilt that he had so often found himself gripping. Enough to cause a few dents in the area. Only further proving his dedication to his craft. But he did not understand your actions. Far too vague in deciphering you when he barely knew much to tell if your actions had been one of curiosity or just sheer brazenness.
“Do you…have something against me? Or is there somethin’ I’m missing here?" He blurts out. Unsure if your earlier comments were made from a place of ignorance or as a way to insult his way of fighting.
And your eyes had so easily pried from the blade and back to his face. Surprised that the relaxed persona of his had momentarily disappeared.
And for a second, you felt the weight of added guilt in the way you had addressed him earlier.“Against you? No, I-”
You sigh. “Not really. If anything I'm interested in you.” Managing to blurt out, almost frowning at the way you stumbled to admit that. Somehow that had been hard to say in front of his face.
“That so?” He tilts his head with a smile. “And here I was, under the impression that you hated my guts.”
You had half a mind to roll your eyes. Make another comment that might've irked his feathers for a bit. But you stopped yourself. Finding the smile on his face much more pleasant than you had imagined. A far cry from the masked practiced one he had adorned when you first met him with. And this time, you had made an effort to be more sincere.
“You've gained my trust.” You simply spoke. This time in a much more pleasant tone than you had anticipated. “I was wrong. I misjudged your confidence for stupidity.”
His eyes had trained over each other. And silence swept over them before you spoke hesitantly once more.
“I thought you were unwilling to adapt to change. But I see now you are much more careful than I anticipated.” Your admission makes him look away momentarily. Suddenly unused to such sincerity after their last meeting.
“Your skill in the blade is impeccable. And instead of being stupid, I'll replace your weapon for you.”
He raises his brow. Not entirely sure what you were getting at until you held the weighted blade with one hand. Unused to the way you had spoken softly this time. Almost apologetic even.
“You mean replace my weapon of choice?” He had assumed as much. Maybe you’d hand him a gun and see just how terrible he'd be at it. But you had almost smacked yourself on the head for wording things so vaguely.
“No.” Your reply was immediate. Making it clear that you had not meant to insult his skill in swordsmanship. That much was for sure. And maybe that had been the first spark that finally got through the both of you. That you had not meant to offend each other. Not this time.
“I meant–the material your weapon is made out of. It's barely functional, let alone made for slicing thick-skinned Kaiju. I didn't mean too.. yeah.”
Your words had caught his throat dry. And Somehow the awkwardness you had displayed had made him chuckle in response. Amused in the way you too, had stumbled in your words when you had so confidently spoken to him last time. He wonders if you were even the same person who'd responded with the feist he had experienced first-hand. Jabs and all.
Normally conversations like these would lead to persuasion. A simple comment to get him to use other weapons. To give up on his hard work with the blade.
By all means, he was used to the impracticality of his craft.
He was good with the blade. A prodigy some would call him. But his weapon of choice had not been suited for practical use. Often delegated as a Martial Arts technique, required to join the Defense Force as a form of experience.
But it seems he had forgotten who he was talking to.
For you had not been a very practical person either. A technician who made specialized weapons for the odd who would not dare conform to the standard way of fighting a modern Kaiju. And this time, he understood the words you had struggled to say out loud. Your apologies were clear, and you wanted to help. Even if you did look adorably helpless in trying to offer that option to him. “So, what I'm getting at is that, yer’ offering to help me. Yeah?”
“Yeah. Cause I have no idea how you survived for this long with such a flimsy weapon.”
“‘Scuse me?” He couldn't help but laugh a little more. Finding your bluntness a charm. Your aura had been quite different from his initial assumptions. And it seems you were just a bold individual who was unafraid of speaking the truth if need be.
And the thought alone made him smile. Much more genuine in the way he realized he'd be faced with.
“Normally people just tell me that I'm bein’ stubborn by sticking to the front lines. But never that..” He chortled again. Finding the amusement almost breathtaking to stand upright.
And the sound of his laughter had been similar to the pretty bells you once heard during the peak hours of a windchimes's ring. Nice and genuinely pretty.
If he had laughed like that everyday, it might make things a little harder for you to deal with. But you ignore the quick pace in your heart strings. Rolling your eyes as if nothing changed in your demeanor.
“Oh please. I've seen it from the Operations Room. You're more than capable. But the weapons they've given you are…subpar to say the least.”
“-If you actually want to do more, you're gonna need a stronger steel base than this.” You had flicked your finger against the holster of the blade. And the sound of contact had echoed to his ear. And suddenly he is all too aware of that soft smile plastered on your face.
A confidence brimming in you that told him all he needed to know. A thought that you'd help him. To stick by his side and pave a way for him. Starting with a better weapon.
“And I can help you. If you let me.”
“Oh. So you're offering to fix my blade for me?”
“Even better. I'm offering you specialized blades. Ones that won't break so easily.” You beamed. And the sight of your eagerness had made him almost giddy. It almost sounded like a pipe dream in the way you had offered no hesitance in supporting him. It was a breath of fresh air amidst the many who had given up on him.
“Though of course, you'd have to rise through the ranks. Command will only authorize special made weapons for the strongest Officers after all.”
“Like Captain Ashiro?” He had spoken out of turn. A tilt on his head at the memory of her rather peculiar specialty. “I assume you'd want someone who can dish out firepower as strong as hers.”
It was no secret that the Captain of the Third Division had an unusual affinity for firearms. Her large weapon was akin to a cannon, fit to destroy larger than life Kaiju should they appear before them. But you had all but shook your head at his comment. Already one step ahead to stop his doubts from formulating. And somehow, despite the difficulty in reading him. You found yourself able to at least grasp a feeling of his inferiority. One that had been beaten down on his very body that had made you feel guilty at the words he endured.
The very same words you've mocked him with.
“No. The rest of the command can have Mina Ashiro for all I care. It's you I want.” You pointed to him. your finger squarely on his chest. And he hopes you couldn't feel the vapid way his heart was hammering upon its contact with the fabric of his standard uniform jacket. Eyes fixated at your determination and unexpected confidence in him.
“But why? Wouldn't ya’ prefer someone more capable in both long and close range weapons?”
“Like who?” You had inquired. And suddenly his thoughts shift to that amazing but annoying recruit he's encountered during his entry exams. One that he had formed a small rivalry with since they had entered the force right around the same time.
“Maybe someone like Gen Narumi?” He shrugs. Though you could tell he was hesitant in his choice of words. Which makes you chuckle. “The soldier who requested a ridiculously large bayonet? No.”
Somehow that made Soshiro visibly relaxed.
“He’s good but there's nothing I can do that can help him further. But you on the other hand?”
He raises his brows. Seeing the way you tilt your head forward towards him. And his breath is caught on his lungs, unencumbered in the way you speak your mind openly and in confidence towards him. Comparison did not exist in your mind. And from the look on your eyes, there had not been an edge of doubt in the way you responded almost immediately to his doubts.
“I'd be a pretty bad Technician if I didn't see your uses beyond that sword of yours.”
“So ya need me?” He spoke incredulously. And although it embarrasses you, you give him a curt nod. That makes a chuckle escape from his lips. “And suddenly I'm beginin’ to feel special since I joined the Third Division.”
“Well, it's true. The rest may not be able to see it. But I know it.” You paused. Looking at him in sincerity. One that he was not used to seeing. And he flinches upon your hand grabbing his own. Feeling the way his skin had rich blisters that had been replaced with heavy calluses over the time he spent training.
“You'll save more lives than I can count, and the only way you'll do that is if you're given a proper blade.”
“-Created by yours truly of course.” You let go of his hand. Hopefully he hadn't noticed the red tint on your cheeks as you looked away. And his laugh is the first thing you hear that makes you want to admire his pretty face.
“Yer crazy..” He shook his head.
Though more of a vapid insult. The smile remaining on his pretty lips had indicated it was done on jest. And for a moment, you were suddenly all too aware of how husky his voice had been, or how much taller he had shadowed over you. Or how much better he looked when he smiled.
And you find yourself taking a few steps back. The broken blade already slotted on your shoulder. Ready to take it to your lab and get a head start on designing a suitable prototype for him.
“So I've heard. But the Third Division is already full of that, don't you think?” And he couldn't help but nod. Watching the way you had slowly walked passed him. Already unused to the given space you had provided. For a moment, he wished you had held his hand longer. It had made him miss the warmth of your closeness from earlier.
“I suppose so. It's a lot different from the Kansai district, I'll give ya’ that.” He turned. Watching as you retreated slowly. And with a single glance, you had all but piqued the very last of his interest.
Suddenly, it was like getting caught on a hook. And he’s afraid he'd be seeking you out everyday. If he can help it.
If you’d allow it.
“If they couldn't make you shine then I'll make sure to pave that way for you. No kaiju is gonna break that sword of yours.” You turn around. Already taking a step forward. Hiding your pink face from his sight. Which he was admiring rather languidly had you not turned your head.
“You have my word.” You had finished off. And before he could even reply, Soshiro was left in the empty hallways of Tachikawa base.
The sudden absence made him slacken, who had gotten so used to your comforting presence. But in spite of his disappointment, he somehow found himself smiling on his own.
It sure is strange hearing someone say that to him.
Mina Ashiro may have been the first to ask of him. To request an offer for his help in the field. His assistance would prove helpful in the face of her attacks, which was made for long ranged weaponry. And he had finally gotten a chance to prove his worth to the defense force. By means of paving a path to slay the Kaiju that got in her way.
But you had been the first to offer that yourself. To pave a path for HIM should any Kaiju get in HIS way.
You offered him a chance to shine.
And he'd be damned if he doesn't reach that expectation of yours.
The one who had challenged him to go beyond a greater height than he had ever envisioned himself climbing. To be needed.
It wasn't after half a month later had he come back boasting the highest melee kill count from small to midsize threats of Kaiju. His actions ebbing a spark in the third's outlook on Bladed users. Inspiring a few onslaught of officers to join a few joint training sessions held swordsmanship. The Kendo match between districts has become a much more popular feat than before.
Now, learning the blade wasn't a simple formality anymore. It had been another path forward. And although only a fool would continue to wield a blade instead of the practicality of long ranged weaponry. Hoshina Soshiro had been that very same fool. He who pushed forward like a madman and insisted on using his signature shorthanded blades, despite the odds stacked against him
And Mina Ashiro had placed a great deal of faith in him. Enough to promote him to a platoon leader. And eventually a Vice Captain of the third Division.
And your eyes had never lingered elsewhere in his pursuit.
Often following his line of sight when you'd seen him train on the very confines of the training room. And even now, you had stared directly at him. Unable to look away.
Not when he had entered your lab with the unusual formality of his standard uniform. His star studded pin hooked on the left side of his jacket's chest. An insignia that had been a symbol of his inauguration as the new Vice Captain of Third Division's upper ranks. His title attained by the mere fraction of his efforts and hardwork.
And you dare not face him with such petty grievances like you had in the past. A smile etched on your pretty lips as you greeted him in a mock salute. As if to tell him you had been expecting this day to come.
“Took you a while, Vice Captain. I almost thought you'd given up on me.” Your joke had made him let out a chuckle. Closing the door behind him as he walked up to your place nearest the desk.
“And miss out on yer’ startled face? Never.” He had spoken more informally than you had imagined. Which made you drop the mock salute you had given him. Rolling your eyes as you moved to stand. Heading to the next desk over as he followed you suit.
“I think you're the one that should be startled.” You had hinted with a giddy giggle.
The correction made Soshiro tilt his head. A sort of curiosity washing over him. And you watch as he closes the gap between his and the proximity of your bubble. Braving to graze his shoulders against you as he crosses your side. Eyes magnetized in the way it had seen your pretty smile. “Oh. Didya' have a surprise for me? Didn't peg you as someone who gave gifts often.”
And you lean forward, nearest his chest. As if to whisper your little secret that you've been meaning to show him for a while now. “In case you forgot, let me remind you.”
Upon landing his gaze on the small glass case on the desk, you had moved your hands to slowly remove the top cover. Revealing the two refined swords around the same length of his arms.
The outer casing, its holster. Was tinted purple like his dark hair. The hints of military green had no doubt matched that of their Combat Suit's design. And it veered to life the moment his eyes fell upon the familiar insignia of the Third Division's logo atop of its hilt. A sign that this weapon had been his.
Well at least, he assumed as much. Judging from the proud and almost excited look on your face. “I finished your swords.” You spoke factually. “Just need your verdict on the matter.”
His eyes had widened. This had been a stark difference from his previous blade. The way it was made was measured perfectly to the length of his arms. The sword bent in a grip for just the way he preferred it to. And its tip? The one where a pivot was placed had been an indication that it was designed so that he could connect the two blades. Form it into one long sword, if he truly wished to.
That alone was an indication that this was likely not a normal melee. Made of simple bronze or steel.
No.
This was a bioweapon. Made from Kiaju to kill Kaiju. One that was only granted to the strongest in the Force. One that had been ready for his use. Built in custom to his preferences. And their eyes met, only confirming his suspicions when she had given him an awkward shrug of her shoulders. Acting as if invisible ink had occupied the space between their feet.
“I said I'd make you a weapon that won't break easily, didn't I?” In an instant, a hot flush billowed in his cheeks. Much the same when your normally hidden shyness had finally resurfaced.
The rare times it did, he couldn't help but stare. Far too enraptured in the gap that had swung between your feist and your awkward responses. And he nods in turn. Suddenly aware that you had been doing such a task so diligently to perfection. “I don't know what to say. I didn't think you'd actually make it.”
You hear him chuckle. And your shoulder had pushed him forward. Towards the weaponry you had made for him.“Go on, it's not like anybody else can use it.”
Soshiro had looked at you, hesitant in the way you had so readily offered him such a gift. Your words had been proven in the way your assurances hit his heart. And his hand had a mind of its own as it grabbed the hilt of the blade. Sliding its cover right off so he'd have a chance to see the refined structure of the thinly cut mass of iron.
One he had been accustomed to weilding since he had been born.
Though instead. He was met with the dark shade of a similar material. Stronger than Iron, nor any steel for that matter. It was a blade far too distinct to forget. Luminous in orange hues as if it burned with the same heat that had allowed him to move in the enhancement of his suit.
And it had been clear this weapon was far stronger than the rest of his blade. Bound to cut a Kaiju's outer shell much easier than his previous ones would let him.
And the light one that breathed with an eery calm had reflected his own wine red eyes on the blade. The very movement caused a sound cutting through air when he'd expertly move it with his fingertips.
A sight of which had glued your eyes onto him. Finding his stupor rather mesmerizing than usual. His concentration had not been a rare sight for you, especially when you had caught glimpses of the many nights he'd spend alone in the training room.
But being this close. Seeing the joy nipping at his face. Somehow it makes your heart flutter strangely. And you had to shake your head to snap yourself out of admiration for the man. Suddenly focusing your attention back to blade one which vyed for his approval.
“So, do you like it?”
Soshiro had hummed. The usual grin on his lips remained unphased despite the giddiness in his chest. “Mmm...I ‘spose it's subpar at best.”
“Excuse me? Rude.” He laughs at your comment. And he puts the blade back in its holder. Already placing it on the back of his waist, right where it belonged.
“I'm kidding.” He spoke immediately after. A laugh bellowing from his abs. Though your scrunched nose had made it difficult for you to believe his immediate reply.
“No, I'm serious. You've outdone yourself sweetheart. Never seen a sword this sharp before..” He looks you over, admiring the easy smile on your face. That and the nickname seems to have made your cheeks flare up in surprise.
And he had to remind himself to engrave that very image of you on the back of his mind. Fearing that he may never get to see such a sight again.
“Well say that first! It's kind of difficult reading your facial expressions, you know?” You huffed. Though the easy laughter of his had remained. And a smile soon replaces your hefty frown.
“Sorry, sorry. Is there a price I hafta pay ya’? You know, for making me such a nice weapon and all that.”
You shrug, scooting your way right in front of him where he could just as easily close the gap between the two of you.
Have your chest pressed up against his, hand gripping the plush of your lower back. Admiring the gentle way you'd likely stare up at him with flamed cheeks. But he stops, already feeling too guilty to indulge himself further. And your reply had been quick enough to distract him from any incoming thoughts that had pushed his mind to try and get closer to you.
“Only your help, when it comes to a few suit upgrades.”
Help huh? He supposes this would be a good excuse to go see you more often. Though the simplicity of such a task was a little more suspicious on your part. And he had an inkling you had a few things in mind that involved more than just that.
But then again. He couldn't exactly read you either. Not completely at least.
Not yet.
“Quite demanding, aren't we?” He nods.
You had rolled your eyes at his teasing.
“You're the one that offered. But fine, be like that.” You had crossed your arms. Already backing away, and you had felt the way he had firmly pulled you back. Hand against your elbow. Making you face him whilst he tilted his head in your direction.
“Now, now..I never said anything about refusing you didn't I?” He chuckles. And the deep rumble makes your stomach churn in small caterpillars. Ready to form butterflies should he continue.
“Wasn't that already implied?” You spoke. Aware of the way his palms had steadied you by the elbows. The hint of warmth against his skin was almost tantalizing to make you lean forward. But before you had the chance to, he let you go. Leaving only an inch of space between the both of you.
“Shh..” His finger had raised itself against your lips. Shushing you before you could make another smart quip at him that was sure to insight another bout of witty banter. One that he knew he'd grown accustomed to in the future.
“I was just messing with ya'” He laughs. Only confirming that he had been hooked indefinitely by you. And he moves his free hand to tug your hair behind your ear.
“Do you, or do you not want to help me?” You had asked incredulously. Already finding his musings rather annoying. But the way he looked at you had your breath caught in your throat.
His gaze, although clouded by the silent promise to himself. Had not seen the way you too had a similar look on your face. And whether or not you had been aware of this promise. It doesn't fail to make your heart pick up its pace. His voice was almost reminiscent of prayer when he spoke your name in a whisper.
“I do want to help.” He spoke slowly. And your eyes flutter closed wondering if his touch would linger for a bit longer. But his fingertips remained curt. Pulling back just as soon as it grazed your skin.
“And how do I know you're being serious?”
“All ya’ have to do is call me. And I’ll Certainly be Yours, if you want me to.”
And he meant it. He was sincere in his intention to get close to you. To help you like you had sworn to him. Use his skill to protect you, should you ever need it.
And somehow, he is reminded of the time his brother had spoken to him long ago. Back when they were kids, dueling with simple bamboo swords back in the peace of their own home. Eating those childhood rice balls in the afterhours of their respective schools.
Soichiro be damned. Because somehow he was correct in his predictions. His words were every bit of a mockery to his craft. And although it was a rare sight to have him be soft in his presence.
Somehow, that was the one time he did so dissolutely.
And now, it looks like he's found someone who needs him. With or without that blade of his.
And this time, there was genuinely no sense of mockery in the way he had met you.
He only hoped he wasn't too late.
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mxauthor · 5 months ago
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Beginning of More
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Summary: Two best friends in a dungeon. They might kiss.
Word Count: 2,147
Warnings: fluff, secret mutual pining, brief mention of dead husband, mention of kids, Chilchuck and Reader being besties, sneak peak into matchmaker Marcille
A/N: I was thinking of making this into a little mini series or adding the other parts to this draft when I have them. Let me know what you think and enjoy!
Y/n and Chilchuck have been best friends since forever.  
Having grown up in the same village, the two of them spent most of their time together while they were young. And as they grew older, so did their friendship, they had been either best man/maid of honor at each other's wedding, first ones there after the birth of their children and became the god parents. They moved away from home and started the half-foot union together and began adventuring. It was very unusual for adventuring parties to get one without the other.
The two were thick as thieves. Always there for each other. 
So when Chilchuck had been introduced to Laios’ forming party, it was no surprise when Y/n also signed a contract with them as well. Starting together and ending together, that is the way both half-foots worked. Always going where the other leads. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marcille’s favorite genre of books are romance. Where a princess gets swept off her feet by a prince and they fall madly in love. Or when two people are forced to go on an adventure together only to realize that they began to fall in love during the journey. She couldn’t get enough of them, which had caused her to strongly lightly project onto others, specifically the two half-foot party members that seem to be insanely close with one another. 
It wasn’t hard to see the natural pull the two of them had with each other, or the instinct of making sure that one is safe after a battle with a monster within the dungeon. Marcille would catch glimpses of the two of them leaving when it came to getting water or heading off to the bathroom. Just always making sure the other is safe. 
She knew they were friends beforehand, it wasn't hard to keep track of the infamous half-foot duo despite her not being the most well kept with rumors. She knew that they have history before forming the party. And watching them now, after deciding to go and rescue Falin, she knew it was much deeper than just friendship. 
Marcille’s main focus is reducing Falin. But if she said getting the two together wasn’t a separate focus on its own, then she’d be lying to herself. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chilchuck sat irritably on his bed roll, gaze locked onto the door for night watch. After spotting the mimic in the room over he knew something was going to happen. Mimics have never brought them luck before and it sure as hell wasn’t going to bring them luck now. 
With an irritated huff, Chilchuck felt his stomach growl with hunger. “My stomach’s gone soft on me. I used to go two days without eating.” He reached for his water skin only to find it empty.
Chilchuck huffed to himself, before instinctively reaching for Y/n’s water skin, knowing she wouldn’t mind. He lifted it up to drink but only a few drops came out, “We need more water.”
He rose to his feet with the water skins in his hands. He turned towards Y/n, calling out her name. She groaned lightly, only turning slightly in the direction his voice is, Chilchuck huffed before reaching over and shaking her. Y/n groaned at the forced movement of her body. 
She turned her head, inhaling and exhaling deeply before speaking, “What is it hon’?” 
Her words came out muffled and they were laced with sleep. But it still rang loud and clear in Chilchuck’s ears. The softness of her voice and the endearing name was enough to make his face blush red. He’s heard her call her late husband that or her kids or even his kids, but never has it been directed towards him. And not once did he feel like it needed to be, but his heart still fluttered. 
 His face still flushed. He still stumbled over his words. “I-I’m going to get some more water.” Only a simple sentence and yet it was still hard to get out, her half lid eyes, seemed to be drawing him in. Almost like she wanted him to stay. 
“Want me to come?” Y/n asked, lifting herself onto her elbows. Sleep clinging to her eyes, Chilchuck watched her fight it. But it looked like she was going to lose. 
“Nah, I’ll be alright. It’s only in the next room.” He reassured, standing to complete his task. Gently he nudged her head, giving the indication for her to lay back down, “I’ll be back. Go to sleep.” 
“Yell if you need, I’ll hear.” She replied, before laying back down. Chilchuck watched as her breathing went even. He stepped out of the room, a single thought on his mind. 
“She looked really pretty.” 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Golly!” 
Y/n shot up from her bed roll, the sound of a voice waking her from her sleep. She scanned the room only to find Chilchuck still gone. Panic swelled, Y/n quickly making her way towards the door. In her haste, Marcille had woken up. She watched as Y/n swung open the door and took down the hall. Marcille noticed the missing Chilchuck and quickly woke up Laios to come and help. 
Y/n heard the loud thump of a box hitting the ground behind her. She turned and saw the previously opened room was locked with bars. Turning around, Y/n raced towards the room only to see Chilchuck pressing the last brick before the gate opened itself. 
In his panic, Chilchuck didn’t register that Y/n was standing right in front of him nor did he slow his pace when he ran straight for her. Before Chilchuck could fully collide with Y/n, she quickly pulled the man into her, once he was within reach, giving a wider gap between the mimic and himself. 
Y/n watched as the metal bars slammed down onto the mimic's body, killing it. Y/n held tightly to the panting Chilchuck, just relieved that he was okay. She pulled back to assess him of any major damage, only to see the slight gash on his cheek. 
“I told you to yell if you needed help.”
“I had it under control.” Chilchuck laughed, knowing if he was patient enough, Y/n would’ve come running. Y/n smiled warmly, knowing that he would figure out a trap like that in no time. 
The door to the room opened to reveal a sleepy Laios being dragged out by Marcille, her panicked expression matching the one Y/n had on seconds before. 
“I saw her run out like something was wrong! And Chilchuck isn’t in the room! He must be in trouble!” The small group looked over and saw the two half-foots converting, Y/n pulling the pouch on her leg off to reveal a couple of needles and thread, Chilchuck following suit.
Laios and Senshi stared at the dead mimic on the ground. “Whoa! You bagged a mimic! Nice going!” 
Chilchuck groaned, sitting back as Marcille gave him a once over with her healing magic. “Thank you.” 
Y/n shook her head in disbelief before assisting his green neck warmer. Seeing how much she can sew right now, before having to add more fabric to it. “I can sew most of it, but I’ll have to add some of the spare fabric I have.” 
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” Chilchuck commended, happy he could keep it for one more day. 
Seeing his happy smile caused Y/n to share a smile of her own, his relaxed nature making her heart flutter. Knowing he was only this level of relaxed with the two of them, their small bubble yet to pop even with the rest of the party around them. 
Even with the small trickle of blood on his face, Y/n couldn’t stop the thought that passed through her head. 
“He looks so pretty.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Marcille silently observed the interaction between the two half-feet. She always had a leading suspicion that they held some sort of feelings for each other, but seeing the way they’re acting almost like it was only the two of them within the dungeon, Marcille knew it was her imagination. 
She could see that the two of them held the other close to their hearts, but seeing how close would be the fun part. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n watched as everyone settled around, ready to eat the dinner provided for them. She was a couple stitches away before Chilchuck’s neck warmer was finished. Which was about the time everyone's portions began to be served. Chilchuck sat next to her, holding the other end of the neck warmer so she could sew it more easily. 
Marcille continued to munch on her piece of the mimic before turning towards the duo, questioning them. “If you knew the mimic was in there, why didn’t you tell us?” 
“Because I’ve had nothing but bad experiences with them. The last thing I wanted to do is deal with another one.” Chilchuck grumbled. He flicked his gaze towards Y/n only to see she had finished mending the fabric and is folding it up to place it next to his pillow. “Anyways, I made a lot of bad decisions.” 
Y/n hummed in agreement, eating a piece of mimic as Chilchuck continued to talk. “The first was panicking thinking the mimic would eat the treasure insect.” 
“But mimics don’t eat treasure insects. Treasure insects eat mimics.” Laios announced. His small explanation going over the irritated Chilchuck’s and the amused Y/n’s head. Chilchuck grumbled as Marcille tried to pat his head, only for Y/n to slap her hand away. 
“You know he doesn’t like to be coddled.” She said simply. “It makes him feel like a kid.” She finished her plate of food and placed it down for it to be washed later. Marcille ignored her  words and turned her attention towards Chilchuck. 
“Tell me how old you are and I’ll never do it again.” Marcille compromised, “What happened to you today only happened because you wanted to be so secretive. Now come on and tell me how old you are.” 
“Fine.” He grumbled out. Hoping she’ll keep her word. Marcille’s eyes sparkled, before turning towards Y/n. Her face held an expecting look, almost like she was waiting for her to share the same details.
“What? You never asked my age. I would’ve told you if you just asked.” Y/n answers simply. It was true. She never hid anything about herself, like Chilchuck did. Just no one was interested enough to ask, or they didn’t think to ask since Chilchuck always refused to share anything and everyone always assumed that she was the same way. 
“I’m turning 29 this year.” Chilchuck grumbled out, seeing Marcille’s eyes land on him expectantly. 
Marcille groaned at the information, expecting to hear an age older than the one she got. “Man you’re just a kid after all.” 
“I thought you were way older than that.” Senshi said. Y/n laughed at their reactions, knowing that other races don’t fully understand half-feet life expectancy. Especially races with longer lives. 
Marcille watched Y/n chuckle at the scene in front of her, before lighting up herself, “What about you Y/n? How old are you?” Marcille asked. Excited that she’ll get the answers to some of her questions. 
“Me? I’m 30.” Y/n answered casually. Watching Marcille’s excitement withered slightly. 
“Really? You guys are so young.” Marcille huffed, leaning back onto her hands looking at the ceiling. 
“Okay then! How old are you guys! All other races look like kids to you races with long lives!!” Chilchuck shouted. Y/n laughed at Chilchuck’s faux anger. Knowing he was more irritated than actually upset. 
“There, there, Chil, those lifers will never understand our day to day struggle.” Y/n joked, watching as Chilchuck fumed silently sitting down and crossing his arms. Steam almost pouring out of his ears. “Come on guys, we should rest a little more before we start moving again. Especially since not everyone got a chance to sleep.” 
Marcille watched closely as Chilchuck’s body seemed to instantly relax once Y/n began patting his shoulder. And how Y/n’s touch lingered for a second more before she moved and began reassembling her bed roll closer to the new circle the group had formed. 
The party grumbled in agreement before dimming down the fire and getting back into their bed rolls. Most falling asleep almost instantly. Y/n turned over, her now face to face with Chilchuck. She reached out slightly and tapped his arm with her fist. 
Not enough to hurt, but enough to convey her displeasure with him, “Don’t go anywhere without me next time, got it?” 
“Yeah I got it.” Chilchuck replied, tapping her arm in return.
They two adults shared a smile before dozing off. Resting until they woke up naturally to continue moving down.
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minminyoonjii · 6 months ago
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i am having many thoughts about trying anal with changbin and reader still wants their pussy full so bin calls channie to help fill up his baby 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
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❤️Ultimate Masterlist
💜Rules and Guidelines
🕯Summary: Princesses always had the right to feel full. It's not wrong to beg your boyfriend for another set of dick.
🌹CW
Double Penetration|Squirting|Multiple Orgasms|Rough Sex|Praise Kink|Wet & Messy|Fingering|Dirty Talk|Threesome|Brief Fisting|First Time! Anal|Gaping|Commanding Tone|Teasing|Dom! Changbin|Dom! Chan|Degrading Praise Kink|Desperate Orgasm|Aftercare
💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.
🍄Wordcount: 1.5K
"Take a deep breath for me, princess. Yes, that's it," Changbin said, easing a finger past your rim. You whimpered, clawing the sheets below. "Shh, shh. It's okay, it's okay. You'll be able to take my cock soon, hm?" he reassured, slicking a finger with lube before stretching out your tight hole. You huffed out a breath, relaxing into the gentle touches working your hole open. Changbin cooed, "You're doing good, so so good for me," he praised, easing in another finger. 
You clenched around his fingers, groaning at the sheer girth of his fingers scissoring your rimmed hole. Changbin hissed, chuckling at the clench, "Dirty girl, is your pretty pussy feeling empty, princess?" he asked, smacking your plush ass. You moaned, wiggling your hips, "Please," you pleaded. Changbin chuckled, "I'll call him just for tonight. You know how well he'd pound your needy pussy," he teased, curling his fingers within your ribbed walls. 
"Fucking, fuck," you groaned, bundling the sheets within your grip. Changbin cooed, "Be quiet for me. We can't have him knowing instantly, princess," he said, clicking on the contact. You bit your bottom lip, trying to muffle the moans spilling past your lips. Changbin smirked at your efforts, "Good girl," he praised, adding another finger with his thrusts. "Mmhm," you whined, shutting your eyes tight as pleasure shot through your spine. 
The phone rang twice before someone picked up, "Oh, Bin-ah. Is everything alright?" Chan asked, leaning against his bed frame. Changbin chuckled, "We need your help hyungnim," he said, jutting his lips to a pout. Chan chuckled, "We? Who else is with you?" he asked, straightening himself. Changbin smirked, loving how you burrowed your face into the pillow to muffle your moans, "Go ahead, answer him," he instructed, picking up the pace of his thrusts. 
You whined, lifting your head as raw cries and whimpers echoed through the room, "Chan," you sobbed, arching your back. "Aww, baby," Chan cooed, getting up from his bed. Changbin grinned, "You sound so precious, princess," he said, rubbing your waist. You moved your hip, "Ah, ah, fuck," you panted, fucking back on Changbin's fingers. Chan knocked on Changbin's door, "Delivery is here," he said, hanging up the call before walking into the room.
Changbin rolled his eyes playfully, "Delivery, really?" he asked, easing his finger out of your puffy rim. Chan shrugged, "Sounded hotter in my head," he said, chuckling at Changbin's side glance. "What can I help you with?" Chan asked, moving to brush your hair out of your face. Changbin smirked, "It's the princess's first anal and she isn't used to her cunt being empty," he explained, stripping his bottom half bare. Chan nodded, "So you decided to call me to fill her up?" he asked, tugging off his shirt.
"Exactly. Ah, hyung, you're so smart," Changbin cooed, pinching Chan's cheek. "Do that again," Chan warned, smirking with his tongue pressed against his bottom lip. Changbin dodged, "I'm good," he said, lifting your pliant body. Chan smiled, "Binnie must have been a bully hasn't he?" he asked, stroking your cheek. You pouted, getting yourself comfortable on Chan's torso, "Big meanie," you grumbled, wrapping your arms under Chan's. 
Changbin gasped before chuckling, "If you want mean princess, I can show you mean," he said, rolling on the condom over his throbbing cock. "Bin-ah, be good for hyung and roll one on me," Chan said, spreading his legs to rest his cock between your ass. Changbin smirked, tearing the condom foil, "Hard already?" he teased, rolling the condom over Chan's dripping cockhead. He hissed, "Been hard since the call," he groaned, bucking his hips.
"Let me lift you, princess," Changbin said, lifting you to align your cunt with Chan's aching cock. Chan gripped the base of his cock, "Take as much as you can, baby," he reassured, rubbing your thighs. You took a deep breath, slowly easing Chan's cock past your folds to your hole, "Oh, oh, hah" you moaned, preening at the stretch. Chan groaned in tandem, "Good girl, fuck," he chuckled, grazing your thighs. "Why the fuck, fuck so fucking big," you babbled, sinking your hips to the hilt. 
Chan rubbed your back as you laid on him, "So proud of you, baby," he cooed, kissing your forehead. Changbin spread apart your ass, "Deep breaths, princess," he instructed as he pushed his cock in inch by inch. Tears weld up in your eyes but Chan instantly kissed them away, "Doing so good for us, so good," he grunted, nosing your cheek. Changbin groaned, losing his mind to the sheer tightness wrapped around his cock, "Fuck I can feel everything," he gruffed, rolling his hips.
You hiccuped, mind melted as the sheer pleasure burned through your body. The duo held their positions buried in your holes till the base, their cocks stretching out your holes to the max. "Move," you whispered just loud enough for Changbin to set a rhythm. "Take it, princess. Take my cock," Changbin growled, his hips striking your ass. Wails escaped your lips, and your eyes rolled back. Chan groaned, looking away from your blissful face before he came from just that.
"Bin, bin," you sobbed, dragging your nails down Chan's chest. "Your Bin's right here, princess. Clench for us," Changbin groaned, digging his fingers into your hips. You whimpered, clenching as hard as you could around their cocks, "Hah, Fuck!" you cried, drooling at the pressure of Chan's cockhead pressed against your cervix. Chan tossed his head back, baring his neck, trying his hardest not to roll his hips. Changbin felt his knees buckle at you clench, "Shit princess, that grip could kill a man," he moaned, staring down at your quivering body. 
He raised his palm, laying a heavy smack on your ass before continuing his relentless thrusts, "Oh, oh, yes, yes" Changbin gasped, working his thigh muscles to bring you the most torturous pleasure. You broke down into mindless babbles and cries, leaving only Chan's touches to keep you sober. "You're so fucking pretty, baby," he groaned, lifting your chin to sync your lips together. Chan hummed, easily slipping his tongue with yours. 
You sniffled, weakly mimicking Chan's kisses. Chan smirked, licking the roof of your mouth to see your reaction. A shiver ran down your body causing you to clench. Chan grunted, tensing his jaw at the sudden grip and Changbin wasn't faring any better, "Good baby, so good," Chan said, syncing your lips once more to feel you clench again when he licked the roof of your mouth. Changbin whined, "Take my fucking cum, princess. Fuck!" he keened, burying his cock into the base, pressing firming against your puffy rim. 
"Yes, yes, yes, Bin," you mewled, eyes barely able to open. Chan shuddered a breath, clenching his jaw to hold off his appending orgasm. Changbin groaned, hissing as he carefully pulled out his cum drenched cock. He gulped at the sight of your drippy abused rim, gaping. "I'm going to lose my mind," he whispered, easily breaching your loose hole with his fist. Your whines instantly made Changbin remove his hand, "Maybe next time, princess," he said, cleaning off his mess. 
Chan hugged around your waist, "Let's make your pretty cunt gush, baby," he growled, already so close to cumming. You nodded mindlessly, head clouded with nothing by fuzz. Changbin turned on your vibrator and positioned it against your clit, "Squirt for us, princess. Make a mess," he commanded, hearing your scream. Chan groaned, bucking his hips up mercilessly, "Fucking, fuck," he gruffed, pounding his cock up your sloppy cunt. 
Changbin reached beneath and pushed the hood of your clit up as he aimed the vibrator. You wailed, thrashing in Chan's arms, "Ah, hah!" you cried, tears and drool coating Chan's pecs. Chan growled against your ear, nipping on it as he snapped his hips erratically, hitting beneath your cervix with precision, "Give it to me, cum for us, baby," he gruffed, holding you down even if you squirm. Your jaw slacked, body quivering hard around his cock, "Ah," you gasped, arching your back. The pressure built so strong, Chan's cock slipped out of your gushing cunt.
"That's it, baby girl," he groaned, slapping his cock against your slit before slipping it back in just to cum within your tight walls. Changbin wiped your body down, "Messy little princess," he chuckled, cleaning you and Chan up. Chan moved your body next to his, and he gently eased his cock out from your sensitive cunt, "Sorry if I was too rough, baby," he rasped, kissing your nose. Changbin lubed up a plug, "Binnie's got you, princess," he whispered, pressing the plug in carefully. 
Chan raised an eyebrow at the sight. "She wanted the stretch to last for a bit," Changbin said, rubbing the curve of your ass. Chan chuckled in disbelief, "I swear the both of you may just have signed my death wish," he said, laying back into the bed. Changbin rolled his eyes, "Says the one this close to knocking up my girlfriend," he teased, pressing two of his fingers together. "I couldn't help it, your little princess takes cock like a goddess," he yawned, pulling Changbin next to him.
"Hmph, but she's mine Channie hyung, get your own girlfriend," Changbin sulked, pulling you close to him. Chan laughed, "We'll see," he replied, patting Changbin's ass.
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