#but the way everything slots together in my mind is satisfying

[thegardenandthegrave]

Aziraphale should have Fallen after the Job debacle.

No, listen. Listen.

Aziraphale has lied before, directly to God no less. Yet, it wasn't until Job that Aziraphale himself believed that he was going to Fall.

I think the difference is that what God allowed to befall Job caused Aziraphale to question the ineffable plan for the first time.

Not only that, he lied to cover up a demon's failure to follow through on killing Job's children AND he fell for said demon's temptation to consume food.

If God is all knowing, then hiding his sins would not have done any good.

Except, God had just gotten done berating Job for questioning her.

And wasn't the wager between God and Satan that Job would remain faithful despite the misery rained down upon him?

If it were my wager, I would take Job questioning God as God technically losing the wager.

But how does this connect to Aziraphale not Falling when he should have?

Well, I'm about to put on a nice tinfoil hat so stay with me here.

Because iirc, the Job debacle is the last time we see God speaking directly to anyone.

(unless you count the season 1 voiceover, which I don't for reasons below)

After that, we've got Metatron acting as an intermediary and 'voice of God'. Metatron is the one Aziraphale reaches when he specifically calls God. And Aziraphale is both confused and surprised by this intermediary

Now, if I were the original demon who had designs on taking God's throne/power/ect I would probably include some sneaky wording in that wager over Job, somehow use winning that wager to gain access to Heaven's demotion/promotion system, and erase/demote God as far down as I could.

You know what I wouldn't do?

Let anyone ever know that God was demoted/lost memories.

I would ride it out, playing angels and demons against each other to destruction while pretending God is still in control.

And I would certainly enjoy sending an amnesiac God to live amongst their favorite creations, completely unaware of what she's lost, assigning her to run a book store without any help or support while I simultaneously broke up the (literal) power couple of all time

Yes, that's right. I'm saying that Metatron is Satan in disguise and that Muriel may very well be God.

EDIT: removed some of my own preconceived notions about religion in regards to metatron. My religious knowledge is not vast enough to make an educated point one way or another about Metatron's presence and representations in religious texts.

[bowelfly]

Hi there! Discovered your work today and I love it!!! You have such a lovely style. Do you have any advice for how you interpret the complicated insect anatomy into something manageable that still makes it distinguishable?

I've been trying to get into drawing insects but sometimes the leg joints specifically really have me scratching my head.

hey thanks a lot, i'm glad you like my bugs.

as far as drawing bugs goes, i do really think that having a grasp of insect anatomy and how everything fits together is really the best way to start figuring out how to simplify their designs in a satisfying way. unfortunately insect anatomy is so varied between and even within taxonomic orders and families that knowledge of how one group fits together doesn't necessarily always translate to others. i've found that when i have confusion over how things fit together with a particular beast, doing an image search for it's scientific name + "anatomy diagram" or something along those lines is often very helpful

after that i feel like it's just a case of the more you practice drawing them the more you can intuit which parts are more necessary to distinguish than others and which ones can be de-emphasized.

as far as the legs go specifically, keeping in mind that there's a million variations on this formula, this is sort of the generic plan:

note how the segments tend to slot into each other like little gimbal joints or something. and from the diagrams above you can see how the legs tend to be attached to the ventral side of the insect and then sort of splay out to the side.

again really can't emphasize how much variation there is on this schematic, with every segment liable to be massively expanded or contracted or disappeared altogether

i hope that was at least a little helpful? i'm hilariously sleep deprived right now so can't really put as much effort into answering this as i did with my little bug mouthparts tutorial from a while back

[chandralia]

If you don't mind, can I ask something from My Hero Academia? What do you think are Midoriya and Bakugou’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic? Sorry if you've answered these questions before.....

Also, If you don't mind me asking (again), can I also ask your top fav characters and fav moments from the series (BNHA)...? Thanks if you want to answer....

I’d say both of their strengths are their resilience and stubbornness. Deku being kind and hopeful, always seeing the good in people, paired with Katsuki’s confidence and assertiveness. You can’t help but feel relief when either of them show up dfhjsgdh

their shared weakness is obsession 😭 Deku’s stubborness also derives from idolization which evolved into something self-deteriorating. He also cares so deeply about Kacchan that it causes him to go off the rails.

Katsuki’s such a perfectionist, leveled by his insecurities, and heavy jealousy/envy. Arrogance knocked him down a peg quite a few times, even in instances where he won, he didn’t win in the way he wanted to.

I could yap forever about their dynamic and the satisfying contrast of their personalities but honestly it’ll always boil down to them knowing each other better than anyone else. the way they perfectly slot together, can read each other’s thoughts, predict each other’s moves. parts of them bleed over onto each other. you really can’t have one without the other.

they ARE my faves, then there’s Sero (which sounds crazy since I rarely talk about him shkfhdjd)

and my favorite moment will always be DvK2 and the aftermath. seeing everything pour out between them, it’s the climax of their evolving relationship, solidifying their rivalry. It gets the ball rolling on knowing what happened between them, and the promise of fixing it 🥺

(I’m biased so pretty much all of bkdk’s moments are my fave ones shdkdhsjs)

[webslinger-holland]

The Sergeant's Senator | Chapter 5

Summary: It is finally time for the senator to give her speech to the senator. And Echo tells Hunter about what he had seen. Now Hunter needs to confront the senator and figure out why they haven't been transferred yet.

Warning: assassination attempt, various weapons used, sniper/shooter mentioned, characters getting shot at, mutual pining, mild argument, kissing (finally), +18 very suggestive content at the end

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Senator

Type: Short Series

Word Count: 6.0k

Series Masterlist

Now, two days later, the hired hitman had received his orders from his employer. The blaster wound in his shoulder was healed, but there was a nasty scar that remained in its place. He packed his weapon away in a case, taking it with him as he left the abandoned building he'd been stationed in.

Checking the coordinates, he began to make his way there without drawing too much attention. He took back alleys, hidden passages, and stayed out of the eyes of others. The Count's words rang in his mind from earlier: "The speech takes place in the Senate Building at 2:00pm. Do not let her get there."

Just like the Count had ordered, the skilled shooter made sure to keep a low profile and learn more about them. He remained hidden in the crowds, watching their every move without them knowing. After a week, he figured out the exact route they'd take to get from her apartment to the senate building. And relaying this information to his employer meant that they worked together to find the perfect place to take the shot.

Arriving at the building, the assassin began climbing the long staircase until he reached one of the top floors. He walked towards one of the windows, peeking through the glass to watch the busy airspeeders driving below and diagonally from him. Satisfied with his position, he chose to assemble his rifle and wait for the moment to strike.

Back at the apartment, Hunter stood impatiently outside the senator's bedroom door. His arms were crossed over his chest and his foot tapped the floor in a steady beat. He glanced back at his brothers who had never looked more bored in their lives.

"Tech," Hunter's sultry and low voice sounded. "Give me the time."

He didn't look up from his data pad. "It is approximately 1:46pm. And it has only been two minutes since the last time you asked me."

"Ugh," Wrecker groaned. He proceeded to throw his hands up in exaggeration. "What's taking her so long?"

"She trying to look nice for her sergeant," Crosshair sneered. He threw a glare to his older brother, already knowing that his comment would strike a cord with him.

Hunter, always being the more level headed of the two, ignored his comment. He redirected his attention to the solid wood door in front of him. But he clenched his fists at his sides.

"She's gonna miss her time slot if she waits any longer," Echo noted while peering over Tech's shoulder to look at the time.

Finally, Hunter raised his fist to the door and knocked harshly against it. He called her name through the door in hopes of urging her to finish getting ready quicker. This was probably the thirtieth time he'd knocked.

"I'm not ready yet!" Her voice was muffled through the door, which meant she was probably on the other side of the room. She fixed her hair in the mirror and smoothed her hands over her dress.

"Well, you need to be ready now. We should have left ten minutes ago," Hunter called back. He stared down at the door handle.

"Fifteen," Tech corrected with a raised finger. "If you calculate the traffic."

"These things take time," Y/n answered. She moved a few strands of hair to her liking. She looked herself over one last time. "I don't like to be rushed."

"If you need help to...speed up the process, I am offering my assistance," Hunter was trying everything to get her out of the room. He only received a long pause of silence. He went to knock again, but the door swung open before contact.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She teased him.

The others were at a complete loss of words for what stood before them. They shamelessly took in her appearance by allowing their eyes to travel down her body. She really was something else.

The senator was wearing a floor-length dark blue dress that matched the color of the midnight sky. Her hair was styled into curls, flowing over her shoulders. There were small silver stars and crescent moons pinning her baby hairs back.

The sergeant was the first to realize how long he'd been staring. He tried to form words, but they fell short in the process. Standing right in front of him was by far the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. No, he thought to himself. She was beyond beautiful; she was simply magnificent.

"You...look...," Hunter began. The lavender perfume flooded his senses, which made his brain fuzzy. His gaze continued to linger, drinking it all in greedily. "Heavenly," Hunter breathed softly.

That word was not what she was expecting in the slightest. It didn't make her any less flattered though. The corners of her lips lifting into a soft smile with a pink tint coloring her cheeks. She tried to avert her gaze because she just couldn't bare looking at him any longer without blushing profusely.

"Thank you," Y/n replied sheepishly.

When he first saw her, Hunter felt all of his thoughts fly out of his head. He didn't know why they were so persistent to leave; finding it all irrelevant now. He chose to live in the moment which consisted of her and her alone.

Slowly, Hunter used his hand to gesture to the door behind them as if inviting her to go ahead of him. As she brushed past him, Hunter shifted his hand to hover by her lower back. They began to walk towards the door; the others moved to lead them out. With his brothers walking ahead of them, Hunter found himself placing his hand on the small of her back in a gentle manner.

The Bad Batch clambered into the small airspeeder on the edge of the landing platform. There was a driver at the wheel who had been waiting for their arrival. He was instructed to bring them to the Senate Building. And there was a small emphasis on their need to get their quickly.

Starting the airspeeder, the driver began to navigate through the busy lanes in the city. A few other airspeeders passed by them, flying through the air at such a rapid pace. Their airspeeder turned down another path, steadily making their way to their final destination.

In the nearby building, the hitman had kept his scope locked on the passing speeders. He knew that they'd be coming at any second; he only had one shot at this. With one eye closed, he peered through the narrow scope and moved his sniper steadily to search the speeders moving by.

Finally, the skilled shooter's eyes landed on a familiar-looking grey airspeeder heading in the opposite direction of him. He recognized the dark grey clone armor in a second. He quickly adjusted his weapon to take the shot.

"He's gonna try something tomorrow," Hunter told his brothers the day before. They had gathered in the senator's office to discuss tactics for the day of the speech. "He's been waiting for the right moment."

"But how are we going to stop him? He could be anywhere," Echo claimed. He tried thinking of all the places it could go down.

"He wouldn't do anything in the Senate," Tech explained. He ruled that much out. "Too many witnesses and too much security already.

"He could take his shot as we leave the building," Crosshair observed. If he was in the shooter's shoes, that's where he would strike.

"Or he could take his shot as we were moving," Hunter suggested this option. His arms were crossed, but he still shrugged his shoulders.

"That's a pretty tricky shot," Wrecker noted. "Moving objects ain't easy."

"Might not be easy, but it's not impossible." Crosshair corrected. They seemed to think about their options for a brief moment, attempting to reach some kind of game plan.

"So what are we going to do?" Echo questioned. He looked towards his sergeant for the answer.

"I think I have an idea."

While riding in the airspeeder, the other squad members attempted to glance at the sergeant through the corner of their eyes. The mission was put into his hands. They relieved heavily on his senses, because with a few tweaks, Tech had managed to adjust Hunter's helmet filter.

It was originally designed to numb his senses so he wouldn't be so overwhelmed. However, it was now changed to only pick up the smallest sounds. He wasn't able to hear the others talking or even the other airspeeders zooming past them. He focused heavily in order to hear the sound of subtle movement.

Then Hunter heard it: The sound of a rifle being cocked.

"Now!" Hunter signaled them.

The shooter's finger rested against the curve of the trigger, lining up his shot so he wouldn't miss. He squeezed the trigger to fire his shot, watching the red blast come shooting out of the rifle.

Just in time, Hunter had managed to push the senator into a crouching position on the floor of the speeder. He moved his head slightly to the right, barely missing the blaster shot that was aimed at her. Yanking his blaster out of his holster, he didn't hesitate to raise it and fire a few shots in the general direction.

The Bad Batch had been fully prepared for the attack. They quickly turned around in their place as well and fired their own shots rapidly. The shooter ducked down behind the window ledge just as a few shots whizzed past the window. He covered his head and cursed under his breath.

Meanwhile, Crosshair was using his long rifle to fire another round. His shots had gotten the closest. While Wrecker was most certainly firing the fastest, Tech was trying to take more calculated shots. Then Hunter and Echo were firing almost simultaneously, naturally in sync with one another. But none of their shots hit a target.

Having seen the shooter disappear from the perch, Hunter raised his fist to signal the others to seize fire. The shooting stopped instantly. He waited patiently with the expectation that the shooter would try again, but he never reappeared in the window. The airspeeder continued on the designated route, heading in the direction of the senate.

"Are you alright, senator?" Echo asked. He couched down beside her, offering his hand for her to take. He eased her back into the seat.

"I'm fine," Y/n reassured him. She glanced up at the sergeant before giving him a firm nod of the head. "Thanks again."

Though Hunter's filtration was still activated, he knew exactly what she said regardless of the fact he couldn't hear her. He sent her a nod back. He redirected his attention back towards the empty window, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at it.

"Was your mission successful?" Count Dooku questioned over the communication link that the assassin held in his hands. There was a long beat of stillness.

"She...she was highly protected. I-I couldn't get a clean shot," the man explained. His continuous failed attempts only caused the Sith Lord more frustration. And this was evident in his silence alone. "Give me one more chance," he begged.

"I grow tired of your excuses," Count Dooku interrupted. His voice grew deeper and darker. "I am coming to Coruscant. Do not let her make it to the vote. If you fail to finish the job, then I will end you."

"I understand, Count."

The small escort tried to navigate through the senate building as fast as they could with what little time remained until their window. They had rounded the corner of another corridor, spotting the entrance to the repulsorpod in the senate room. The senator's assistant was standing by the door.

"You're late," the droid announced.

The senator approached the entrance, ignoring the comment with a roll of the eyes. She stepped into the repulsorpod and activated it so it began hovering over to it's designated place amongst other senate members.

The Bad Batch watched the repulsorpod from a distance. The announcement of the senator's arrival sounded from the chancellor who was situated in the middle of the room. With that, Senator Rayna gathered herself and started her speech that she worked so hard on.

Despite being a little out-of-touch with politics, Hunter wanted nothing more than to listen to the senator's speech. He saw that politics was her drive; the thing that got her excited when brought into a conversation. Her speaking came with such passion which indicated how deeply her heart felt for it.

His eyes shimmered behind the visor of his helmet, scanning the way her hands moved as she spoke with emphasis. He admired the softness of her voice, feeling himself falling into a transfixed trance. He didn't necessarily understand what she was saying, but he truly didn't care.

"Uh Hunter?" Echo cleared his throat to get the sergeant's attention.

"What is it, Echo?" Hunter let out a loud sigh since he was taken out of his trance.

"I need to talk to you about something," Echo claimed. Naturally, Hunter turned to face him only to present him with a skeptical look. "It's about the senator," Echo reassured him.

Quickly glancing back at the senator, Hunter contemplated walking away to address his trooper's concern or option the stay in order to listen to the rest of her speech. Although, granted, whatever he did have to say about the senator could be a threat. So Hunter hesitantly walked away from the entrance with Echo trailing behind him.

"What's wrong?" Hunter asked. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I wanted to make you aware of something. Something that I saw the other night when I was on patrol," Echo began. He thought about his next words carefully. "Something I shouldn't have seen," Echo said truthfully.

The sergeant's hands dropped back down to his sides upon sensing the uncertainty radiating from his brother. He saw the conflict behind his eyes and how he couldn't even look him in the eyes. He could only imagine what he was about to say, but he thought of every possible situation.

"Go on," Hunter encouraged.

"Some paperwork was delivered late at night," Echo started the story.

It was in that moment that Hunter realized the situation might not be as severely troubling as he had initially thought. His shoulders slumped down and he released the breath he didn't know he had been holding back.

"I just got a brief glance at the paper on the top of the stack, but it was from the guard."

"What did it say?" Hunter inquired.

"It was a request form--an application," Echo corrected. "It seems The Coruscant Guard sent the form to let her know that there are now available troopers. Should she apply and request them."

"Which means..." Hunter now made the connection.

"We might be receiving new orders any day now," Echo finished for him.

"Our transfer out of Coruscant," Hunter sighed reluctantly. The sadness that came through his voice did not go unnoticed. His gaze lowered to the ground.

For some reason, Hunter's mind drifted away to the words of warning that his youngest brother gave him many weeks ago. Don't get too attached. He clenched his fists at his sides, knowing in the back of his mind that he should have heeded that warning. But at the time, Hunter didn't want to listen to him.

"What should we do?" Echo wondered, which pulled Hunter out of his own thoughts.

"Nothing we can do," Hunter shrugged though it pained him to admit. "Except wait for our transfer papers to come in."

"Should we tell her?"

"Let's keep it between us for now," Hunter ordered calmly. Echo nodded his head understandingly. He glanced back at the senator who was still deep in her speech. "She'll tell us in her own time."

The only problem was that the senator never brought it up. This made Hunter and Echo extremely confused since they figured she would have probably broken the news to them all at some point. She least she could do was give them a heads up that they'd be transferred out sooner than later. Even if Hunter and Echo already knew about the application form that she was given.

It wasn't until six days following her big speech when Hunter decided to come out and confront her. The whole crew had just made their way into the senate building and where heading upstairs.

The day of the vote was scheduled to happen tomorrow. The Senator of Courscant was already feeling quite anxious given the amount of time and effort she put into her speech. Besides making her speech, Senator Rayna had also met with many other senators in hopes of convincing them to support her cause. She only had to wait one more day.

Just as the senator was about to head into the senate room, Hunter managed to get her attention by grabbing her forearm. He stopped her from going in. She whipped her head around to face him with a slight hint of shock in her expression.

"We need to talk," Hunter spoke through the ventilator of his helmet. He kept his voice low so the others couldn't hear him.

"Can't this wait?" Y/n wondered.

"When were you planning to tell us about the transfer?" Hunter ignored her comment, having grown impatient with her inability to bring the subject up to them.

The senator furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "What transfer?"

"Y-You..." Hunter's voice seemed to fade. He studied her features only to find confusion written all over them. His grip on her arm faltered slightly. "You mean you didn't fill out the form?"

The senator felt her heart drop in her chest. She now put the pieces together, coming to the conclusion that he must have found out about the form that was given to her from the capital's guard. The pang of guilt forming deeper and more painful.

"Listen Hunter," the senator tried to come up with some kind of excuse. She avoided his gaze. "Can we talk about this later?"

Now, the senator knew that the needed to be in the right mindset to explain herself to him. Not only that, but she'd also need the time to talk with him, which was something she wasn't able to spare him. Finally, Y/n was able to lift her gaze to meet his.

"Please," Y/n whispered softly with pleading eyes.

And Hunter couldn't say no. His fingers relaxed against her forearm, slipping down the length of her arm. This action only brought a shiver to run down her spine. Her eyelashes fluttered up at him. His hand took hold of her gently, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to communicate understanding.

With great hesitation, Senator Rayna began walking towards the entrance of the senate room. The other senators were waiting for her and preparing for the start of the session. She glanced over her shoulder to steal a glance at her sergeant one last time.

Upon returning to the senator's place of living, Hunter opened the door for her to enter. She walked into the room without sparing him a glance. Just as the other members went to walk in, Hunter stopped them by raising his hand. Each of them looked at their sergeant with a hint of confusions behind their features.

"I need to speak with the senator privately," Hunter told them. He quickly glanced at Echo who was the only one that knew about the conversation that was about to take place. "Give us a couple minutes," Hunter asked.

"Fine," Wrecker threw his hands up in defeat. "Just don't take too long."

"I'll...try to keep it short," Hunter promised.

With some hesitation, the Bad Batch began to make their way further down the hallway. They figured that they'd be able to find something to occupy themselves for a couple minutes. They sent a glance towards the sergeant as they passed by before he closed the door in front of them.

Finally, Hunter stood still for the first time that day. His hand lingered on the handle of the door, wondering if it would be best just to leave with the rest of them. He could feel her gaze bearing into the back of his head. He gathered the needed courage to turn and address her.

"Care to explain yourself?" Hunter started. He folded his arms across his chest to keep a strict demeanor.

"Before that," Y/n interjected. "I want to know how you found out. Did you go through my things?"

"What? No," Hunter denied. "Echo told me."

Closing her eyes, Senator Rayna only cursed under her breath. She hadn't thought about that beforehand. The form was the first piece of paper on the stack. Echo didn't do anything wrong. He was simply the deliverer. She refused to be mad at him for looking at something innocently.

"Right," Y/n said understandingly. "That adds up."

"Let me get some things straight: The Coruscant Guard sends you an application form to your apartment last week," Hunter listed off.

"That's right," Y/n spoke truthfully.

"This application form is the first step in granting you a new escort," Hunter added.

"Mhmm," Y/n gave a nod.

"Which ultimately means that my squad would be transferred out of your command," Hunter came to this conclusion clearly.

"...yes," Y/n breathed quietly.

There was a beat of silence between them. Despite the fact that the senator had cleared things up for the sergeant, he was still left in a state of utter confusion. He looked at her with a blank stare on his face.

"So why the hell haven't you taken the time to even fill it out?" Hunter fought back with a hint of venom in his tone. This sudden outburst only caused the senator to furrow her eyebrows at him.

"You don't think I've been a bit preoccupied with other things?" Y/n threw back at him.

"Oh please. Don't lie to me," Hunter scoffed at this excuse. His arms fell back down to his sides. "You've had all week to fill it out."

"Fine," Y/n waved her hands in dismissal. "You're right. That's not the reason why I didn't fill it out."

"What's the reason then?" Hunter demanded.

The senator tried to gather her thoughts and feelings. She avoided his gaze, but still felt the pressure to answer his question. Struggling to find an excuse, Y/n wasn't able to find the right words.

"I...I-I didn't want to," Y/n confessed quietly. Her eyes drifted up to meet his gaze, filled to the brim with tears that threatened to escape. "Not if it meant you'd be transferred."

"I don't understand," Hunter took a step forward. "What do you want?"

This decision didn't benefit anyone. It kept a batch of good soldiers away from the front lines, which was the best place for them to be. It also kept the senator from receiving the needed help from guards who were purposefully stationed on her planet and who were assigned to protect her.

And Hunter saw this. He still didn't understand her reasoning behind her actions, why she hadn't filled out the form to request a new escort and begin the process of getting them transferred back to the war front.

"What do you want?" Hunter repeated a little more louder this time. He took another step towards her.

"I-I want you," Y/n's voice quivered. She felt a tear roll down the side of her cheek as she spoke with the utmost sense of honesty.

In that exact moment, Hunter's strong nature seemed to dissolve upon hearing those words. His shoulders deflated slightly at his sides and his face fell into a blank stare. It felt like his brain had malfunctioned because he wasn't able to form a complete thought with that information.

"I want you," Y/n spoke once again. "Just you."

Her name came tumbling off his lips. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the floor, feeling the strong sense of conflict in the depths of his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying desperately to fight the urge to cave in.

Seeing her current state only broke his heart even further. The tears were now cascading down the sides of her face evenly. Her bottom lip was quivering unsteadily. The tip of her nose had grown red from her crying. Her hands shook since her nerves had taken over.

"You...you can't have me," Hunter told her steadily. "You know that."

"I-I know," Y/n nodded her head understandingly. She tore her gaze away from him. "You were the person who told me that it's good to have dreams."

He was her dream just as much as she was his own dream.

"I'm a soldier, Y/n. Meant to serve in the army," Hunter corrected her. He couldn't be her dream. "I wasn't made for...whatever you want this to be between us."

"I don't want much," Y/n tried to reassure him with a small shake of her head. She took the last step forward until they were standing with their chests pressed together. "I know that a relationship is almost impossible for a sergeant and a senator."

"Then...what do you want?" Hunter breathed out for the last time. His eyes mindlessly drifted down to her lips, lingering there for a brief moment. "If we can't have a relationship, what can I offer you?"

Slowly, the senator raised her hand to rest against the plate of his armor. Her hand began drifting upwards until it reached his shoulder. She moved it to the side of his cheek, cupping it softly in her grasp.

"Just you. For this one moment," Y/n pleaded with him.

It all seemed to make sense now. The reason why she didn't fill out the form immediately was because she wanted them to stay a little longer. Though it was selfish of her (and she admitted that) and it would keep them from the war, the senator confessed that she never felt more safe than when she was in the presence of his squad.

Their lips seemed to chase one another's movements. Even though their lips never fully connected, they grazed against one another a few times. The temptation to fall into each other was growing with each second.

The sergeant's hands found a place to perch on the sides of her hips. He held her steadily in her grasp, swaying every so slightly with her. Her hands slid away from his face, falling flat on his chest plate. She gazed up at him with anticipating eyes. He leaned his head forward until their foreheads rested against one another's.

They both felt the internal conflict. They already failed miserably in regards to not falling in love with one another. The risk of exposure would also be detrimental to both of their occupations. Should they chose to act on their emotions, who could tell what would happen?

Finally, Hunter's hand drifted up to cup the place between her neck and jaw. He held her face steadily in his grasp. Once again, Hunter felt his heart screaming 'yes' and his mind was pleading 'no.'

Eventually, Hunter caved into his own selfish desires. He tipped his head to the side and leaned forward in his place, permitting his lips to press against her own. He felt the way she leaned into his touch and he heard how fast her heart was beating.

Their lips moved against one another's in a gentle melody. His arms wrapped around her backside, bringing her as close to his body as humanly possible. His hand snaked up her back to cradle the back of her head. He had never imagined how soft her lips were.

With a shuddering breath, Y/n's lips parted slightly which allowed him to swipe his tongue against her bottom lip. Their mouths chased one another's so desperately, exploring every possible inch like it would be their last time.

Finally, Hunter and Y/n were able to pull away from one another to regain their lost breath. They gazed at one another with half-lidded eyes. The two of them basked in the comfortable silence, feeling the sudden sense of relief for finally getting past that hurdle of hiding emotions.

Before they knew what was happening, they had been able to find one another's lips once again. They kept sealed in a tight kiss since they wanted to savor this time together as much as possible.

His insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremors down her spine, evoking from her sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling. He swallowed her soft moans, thinking they tasted so sweet on his tongue.

It was the kind of kiss that stole one's breath away and caused your heart to skip a couple beats. This was one of those kisses that were so filled with built up emotion that they didn't seem to care about anything else. And it was a kiss that could easily become desperate and escalate quickly if they weren't careful.

And that's exactly what happened. It became desperate.

CHAPTER SIX HERE

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THE NEXT CHAPTER IS GONNA BE JUST PURE SPICE AND SMUT! THERE WILL BE A WARNING AT THE BEGINNING

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

A Real Boy (Hannigram) - shortfic

Explicit // M/M // Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham // Tags: Can be interpreted as AU or post S3, I think this might be a dead dove? non-con, dub-con, dollification (kinda), body horror, loss of bodily autonomy, blow jobs, anal sex, rough sex, very rough sex, physical injury, pain, painful sex, whether this is a happy ending or not depends on whether you are Will or Hannibal. WGA prompt fill.

A fill for the upcoming WGA Server Halloween fest. My prompts were:

Halloween prompt: doll

Bottom Will prompt: raw sex

Hannibal is an amazing creator and Will loves to watch him work.

A Real Boy (2.9k):

Will’s eyes hurt, unable to blink. He was focused on the way Hannibal moved around the room. So precise and purposeful. He always was when he was crafting, so caught up in what he was doing. 

His hands were one of the things that Will liked the best about the man. They were so skilled and strong, he seemed to be able to turn them to anything, including the most delicate task. As now, whilst Will watched him create what looked to be some kind of bangle. A beautiful open bud of a flower with a hole at the centre, made from the soft wood of a cherry tree. The whole workshop was filled with the scent of the tree and the dust created as Hannibal filed and whittled.

And that scent brought back so many memories as Will watched. He’d seen Hannibal create so much. They had spent this time together in the workshop bonding over these beautiful things that now sat on the shelves around them. Hannibal was a creator in the truest sense of the word - God-like in his mastery of pulling form and function from a tree no longer living. 

Hannibal held the wood up to his lips and blew softly - the floating remnants glinting like stardust against the afternoon light that spilled through the window behind him. 

“This seems perfect,” Hannibal marvelled. And that was another thing Will liked too - no false modesty. Hannibal knew he was talented and he knew when he had created exactly what he had aimed for. And yes, at times he was unsatisfied and started over as he strived for perfection, but he also acknowledged his own skill and took pride in it. As he should. 

Will marvelled with him, his own pride there too. Another part completed in this project Hannibal laboured so hard over. Will would miss these moments when it was done, but equally looked forward to a time when Hannibal might rest. Take a break from this obsession.

His mind had drifted a little in those thoughts but came back immediately to Hannibal when he noticed he had moved onto something else. Will thought he would be done for the day, but now he picked up a small box and set it on the workbench. 

Will was curious, but content to watch and see what new and interesting thing was about to be brought to the table - literally. 

Anticipating something rarified, like the slice petrified stump Hannibal had purchased not so long ago, he had to admit he was baffled and surprised when the item pulled from the box appeared to be man made - perhaps plastic or rubber, it was difficult to see from the otherside of the workshop. 

Hannibal rarely worked with man made materials, preferring everything as natural as possible. So he had to have good reason. 

As Hannibal turned it over in his hands, he frowned, as though trying to puzzle something out. And when he picked up the beautifully carved ring of wood, he held them together, and frowned some more. Will watched with deep curiosity as Hannibal set both pieces down and then picked up a tape measure. He went back to work on the ring, using the chisel before going back to the more refined tools to finish and polish the piece to perfection. He measured again and this time seemed satisfied. 

“Ah, perfect,” Hannibal commented as he placed the items together and they practically slot in place as though made to be a pair - a wide, short tube topped with the beautifully carved ring. By the time Hannibal finished tinkering, a little glue here and some filing there, the daylight was almost gone and the only remaining light was the dull overhead strip lights and the excessively bright desk lamp on the workbench. 

Will chuckled inwardly as Hannibal’s expression creased in concentration - the way the light cast shadows over his face he looked almost like a mad scientist. 

“Well, Will, I think we’re finally finished.” Hannibal turned and looked at him, that absolute adoration that Will felt deep down into his gut. It was always so overwhelming that Will almost wanted to look away.

Hannibal collected the complete piece and came over to the side of the workshop where Will had been sitting quietly. He set it down on the long, empty bench before turning to Will. 

“Ready, my love?” Hannibal asked, but he didn’t wait for an answer as he took Will into his arms as though he weighed nothing at all. Moving quickly, Hannibal placed Will on the bench, laying him out with such deft speed that Will felt a little dizzy. 

He felt the chuckle in his chest. 

It was lodged there. Unable to go further. Unable to make it to his mouth and out into the world. 

Will tried to open his mouth, but he found that impossible too. 

“You’ve been so patient,” Hannibal murmured, his voice low and seductive. It made Will shiver internally, a sensation that turned to anxiety in the pit of his stomach as he realised it was internal only. No internalised sensations reached the external. 

Will jolted, his body tugged slightly but he was unable to look down to see what was happening, unable to move his head. He could feel Hannibal’s hands on him but even that felt strange and distant. 

“This shouldn’t hurt,” Hannibal reassured and Will felt his legs being spread and hooked over the end of the bench. 

He could feel Hannibal’s hands on him, running over the thick and hard appendage there, feeling almost alien to him. And then lower, feeling a space, an emptiness waiting to be filled. 

Hannibal grunted as he pushed something into the cavity.

Will was wracked with a shock of pain that would have had him leaping from the bench but he couldn’t move, he had no control over his limbs. He felt every movement as Hannibal pressed the tube into him, turning it until it slotted into place - every moment agonising for Will.

“There,” Hannibal stepped back. Will knew because he could now see him from the corner of his eye, and the pain had stopped. 

Hannibal stepped to the side of the bench and looked down at him, he stroked a finger down Will’s face, which felt numb - he knew there was a finger on his cheek, but the sensation was muted. 

The realisation hit Will then - he’d been drugged. Hannibal had given him something to paralyse him, but leave him aware. He could feel everything that was being done, even if it was somewhat dulled, but he couldn’t move. 

He wanted to cry out but that was impossible. 

Continue on AO3

[megumi-fm]

this week on megumi.fm ▸ coding and coffeeshops

📋 Tasks

💻 Internship ↳ lab meet!!! got to learn about the other projects in the lab ↳ got work from home approved!! ↳ optimize protein seq code // account for missing residues ✅ ↳ add on a binding site identifier function for code using 4.5A distance threshold ✅ ↳ optimize binding site code // reducing time complexity for large PDB file inputs ✅ ↳ download and extract alphafold human protein repository and analyze pdb file formats ↳ set up progress tracker and upload code on colab ✅ 🎓 Uni ↳ Final Project: update images quality according to changes mentioned ✅ ↳ renew uni email for extra credit classes ✅ ↳ extra credit classes started this week! 🩺Radiomics Projects ↳ call with teammates to discuss next steps ✅ 📧 Application-related ↳ finished masters application form for 1/1 Uni (waiting on my referee reports) ✅ ↳ finalize referee report from my profs ✅

📅 Daily-s

🛌 consistent sleep [7/7] 💧 good water intake [5/7] 👟 exercise [5/7]

Fun Stuff this week

🍻 met up with my bestie @muakrrr <3 it was a stressful tuesday so meeting him for lunch was super comforting! he bought this cute purple drink and I got myself some ginger ale and the waiter served us the wrong drinks (gender and expectations something something) and it was amusing to watch them get confused when we corrected them 🎂 mom's b'day this week!! went out for dinner with her!! 🛒 went shopping with relatives who I haven't seen in years. bought myself a book! (rip my bookshelf) ☕ went out for coffee and dinner with my girlies (the same besties who I exchanged mugs with). we're trying to spend as much time together as possible before we leave to different countries for our masters 🎮 continuing the beginner's guide 📺 ongoing: Marry my Husband, Cherry Magic Th, Last Twilight 📺 binged: KinnPorsche The Series

📻 This week's soundtrack

Love Wins All by IU (been crying over this music video for days now. it's beautiful) KinnPorsche theme by Slot Machine: Kinn's theme [aka Phiang Waichai; TH] | Porche's theme [aka Free Fall; Eng] (first of all this is one of the catchiest theme songs to exist second only to SPECIALZ aka the JJK s2 op i'm also particularly losing my mind over how the two themes are love letters to the main characters from each other... the narrative parallels of it all are driving me insane sldkhlaksjkshs) Dum Dum by Jeff Satur + the Live Unchained version where his vocals are heavenly (maybe im so drawn to this song because the chorus is similar to the melodic motifs of the KPTS themes/soundtrack, either way, the show introduced me to him and god. I've been voraciously consuming his discography.) Ghost by Jeff Satur (on repeat all week. thoroughly obsessed with this song- the lyricism, his voice, the storyline in the MV, his acting, everything. wow. truly.)

---

[Jan 22 to 28 ; week 4/52 || I. love. my. internship. like. I have been having the most fun time problem solving and troubleshooting. it's also super satisfying to see the outcome of my code. it's been a while since I used python (I've been coding on C) so I forget that python has a lot of inbuilt functions that would do the same tasks I inadvertently entrust my nested loops with, and finding out about them is always so joyous (although it means I have to scrap off several chunks of code). i am a bit annoyed though, because the other intern isn't really doing any work that we're entrusted with so I'm having to carry the team and it's taking me too much time. but oh well. I've suggested we split tasks from next week, hopefully that'll make things better.

I've also been procrastinating a lot when it comes to my masters applications and it really hit me this week when I had to run to uni several times to get things approved and completed. Now that I'll get to work from home I need to set up a proper schedule to get application work completed wayy in advance. also need to resume my GRE prep from next week.]

[charlieconwayy]

Top 5 Freela moments?

this is truly like choosing a favorite child

i HAVE to go with the ending of TWOF, but rly did you expect anything less? just the most satisfying moment i have ever experienced in my tv viewing experience. the set up, the execution - fry literally walking into the frame and leela's face when he hands her the flower. aside from it being their first legit kiss (that i count anyway), it's SO important to their development. leela realizing that success/status/someone looking great on paper does not make someone the ideal partner, but what does is the feeling of relief you get when you see them and the way they make you feel special. i love how fry doesn't even remember nibbler saying he'll help him out w leela, so this was truly just a genuine moment of him being thoughtful. also fry's "yes!" when they fade to black is so sweet

okay i thought for a while about the number two slot and i think i have to pick "no matter what happens, you'll always be leela, the woman i love." fry was so frickin immature and lowkey sexist at the start of the series, which we see a ton of in i was a crustacean in love specifically or even in amazon women in the mood ("is she hot?" "she is all knowing" "in other words, no") and we've gradually seen him mature (my fav "zapp's not the only one becoming marriage material" "you're getting there" <3). leela's biggest fear w fry has always been his commitment issues and him getting bored of her. we've also seen her insecurities ab the way she looks throughout the show, so for him to confirm to her (when she's like entirely squid, mind you) that no matter how she looks, he will always love her is so special. it was the culmination of 7 seasons of development for both fry and their relationship, and i love leela's reaction (and her tentacles doing the princess diaries foot pop when they kiss lol).

i could just put moments from s4 on here and this entire list would be complete tbh....the best season, nothing is ever topping it. the sting is just a special moment and i can't even imagine watching it when it first aired. while we'd gotten little hints here and there that leela had feelings for fry, this episode just confirms the extent of those feelings. we know fry would rather die than be without leela, but this ep confirms that leela would rather die than be without fry. the whole ending segment is great, w leela trying to unalive herself so that she can "feel alright with him" and fry talking her out of it (first real "i love you" :') ) but GOD the feeling when they show the hospital room. the details that we see from all the things fry said to leela in her dream. amy's "they said you'd never wake up, fry never left your side for a second." leela holding her heart when she realizes that him talking to her is what inspired her to wake up!! the hug <3 it's so crazy to me that an animated show can show the intimacy and physicality between them so perfectly.

"dear fry, our time together was short but it was the best time of my life. - leela." for similar reasons to the one above, i love an ep that does a deep dive into leela's love for fry. this one, man. this one. leela marrying CUBERT just bc he resembles fry says it all. "i used to think there was someone for me." just her rage at fry and heartbreak that she will never see him again, while managing to create the successful future she had always wanted but ultimately realizing it's pointless without someone to share it with. that video card hits me so deeply when he says i love you the look on her face actually destroys me.....but what gets me most out of everything is the cavern on the green. leela has no idea where fry is. he could be in the past for all that she knows. but leela knows in her heart that if she leaves a message, somehow, somewhere, fry will see it and he will know how she feels. and he does. that to me is so beautiful, their love is fated no matter what universe or timeline that they're in.

this is a relatively new fav scene for me but "you're lonely and i'm lonely, but together, we're lonely together." freela had kind of just been bickering besties up until this episode, but this was the first time we'd really seen them connect on an intimate level since 102. fry is upset ab spending xmas alone for the first time, leela is upset ab spending her life alone. he's alone in the year 3000 and leela has spent a lifetime alone. we see fry so upset that he hurt leela, that he goes out of his way to buy her a gift and apologize (massive development in fry's emotional intelligence, esp if you compare this to 103 w bender) but leela ends up being okay. she holds his hand and tells him that they can be lonely together and it's such a gamechanging moment, you can just see the chemistry and the connection between the two of them.

[im-not-thinking-confetti-cannons]

Day 20: Shotgunning

Warnings: drug use

Rating: E

Pairing: Boyd x Raylan

“What’ve you got there?”

Boyd looks up at the sound of Raylan’s voice, one eyebrow raised, and – that’s fair. Raylan knows the answer to the question even as he asks it. He spent enough time in Miami – and hell, in college – to know what a blunt looks like, never mind what it smells like. 

“Raylan,” Boyd drawls, and his voice is looser than usual, soft around the edges in a way that tells Raylan exactly how long he’s been hiding out on the back porch, smoking. Boyd smiles, too, wide and a little crooked. “You should join me.”

Raylan snorts, but he sits down on the porch swing next to Boyd anyway. Almost immediately, Boyd leans against him, laying his head down on Raylan’s shoulder as he puffs on the diminishing blunt. “I guess someone has to keep an eye on you,” Raylan says, and Boyd hides his laugh in the collar of Raylan’s shirt.

“Responsibility is a good look on you, Raylan.”

Raylan reaches up, scratching his nails gently through the hair at the base of Boyd’s neck and earning himself a sweet little shiver and a satisfied sigh. “You think everything’s a good look on me,” he accuses.

Boyd takes another drag. “Why, you’ve found me out, marshal. I happen to be unrepentantly attracted to my boyfriend.” He rolls his head to look up at Raylan, teeth bared in another of those too-wide smiles. “Now I forget: what might be the penalty for a crime of that caliber?”

“You are high,” Raylan mutters, but he’s smiling, too. Boyd is relaxed, the permanent tension he’s been carrying for what feels like the past five years no more than a memory. It’s a pretty sight. “I think we might be able to negotiate a deal for you, though.”

Boyd makes an inquisitive little sound. “Oh? And what is it you think I have to negotiate with, Raylan?”

The sound of his name in Boyd’s mouth is sinful on a normal day, when Boyd is sober, when he isn’t flirting. The way he says it now is downright salacious, but knowing he’s being seduced doesn’t make it any easier for Raylan to resist, not when Boyd’s eyes are dark and he’s pressed up against Raylan’s side like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

“We can start with this,” Raylan says, and he tilts his head just enough to brush his lips over Boyd’s. The kiss is soft and sweet, barely a kiss at all, really, but Boyd still hums into it, his eyes fluttering shut as Raylan leans back.

“If your intention is to dissuade me from making these same choices again, Raylan, I’m afraid you’re failing.”

“Boyd, when was the last time I dissuaded you from anything at all?”

Boyd laughs, slowly opening his eyes again. “Don’t sell yourself short, now, You can be downright persuasive when you want to be.”

He lifts the blunt again, but this time Raylan catches his wrist. And when Boyd just looks at him questioningly, Raylan shrugs. “You did say I should join you,” he says, pulling both Boyd’s hand and the blunt towards his own mouth. “Can’t see why you should be the only one having fun.”

“Oh, Raylan, if fun is what you want…”

Raylan rolls his eyes, but he takes a drag anyway, breathing shallowly enough that he won’t send himself into a coughing fit. It’s been a lot of years since he dabbled in this particular vice, and he’s a cocky son of a bitch, but he does know his limits.

He doesn’t exhale, though. Not right away, at least. Boyd is still looking up at him and his lips are just slightly parted, and a bolt of want so strong it almost hurts shoots right through Raylan. It's enough that he doesn't think twice about tilting Boyd's chin up and slotting their mouths together again, breathing out right into Boyd's open mouth.

Boyd moans, and arousal pools at the base of Raylan's spine, hot and liquid. "Maybe fun is what I want," he murmurs, nipping at Boyd's bottom lip and earning himself a hitched breath and a shaky little sigh. He smiles, leaning back and plucking the blunt from Boyd's fingers. "Maybe that's what you wanted in the first place."

"You caught me, Raylan," Boyd says, and his voice is still lazy around the vowels but it's deeper now, rougher. "Now, I believe all that's left is for you to decide what you're going to do with me."

"Is that all?" Raylan muses. He takes another hit, blowing this one out towards the backyard. Boyd huffs his displeasure. "Well, I think I might be able to manage that. Hold still."

Boyd obediently doesn't move while Raylan shifts, swinging one leg over Boyd's thighs so he can settle in his lap. Immediately, Boyd's hands come up, his fingers creeping under Raylan's shirt, greedy for that skin-on-skin contact. It's enough to make Raylan arch into the touch and throb in his jeans, everything made just a little better by the pleasant haze he can start to feel sneaking in.

"Raylan," Boyd breathes, asking, wanting, and Raylan gives him what he wants, taking another drag before leaning down and letting Boyd lick it from his mouth. Nails scratch down his back, just on the right side of too hard, and it's Raylan's turn to shiver, to gasp and pant and lose himself a little. 

He's not sure who moves first, but he's the one who drops the blunt and goes for Boyd's belt, and Boyd is the one who abandons his quest to claw up Raylan's back to do the same to his. There's no finesse. There's barely any coordination. But Raylan gets Boyd's pants unzipped just far enough to pull his cock out, and Boyd manages the same, wrapping his fingers around Raylan and stroking him with a grip tight enough to make Raylan snap his teeth.  

"It ain't a race, baby," he murmurs, but he wraps his own fingers around Boyd's cock a little tighter, makes the drag a little more inescapable when he starts moving his hand. Boyd's head tilts back against the back of the swing, and Raylan takes the opportunity to nip at his neck, to suck a mark right there under his jaw. Boyd's cock jumps in his hand when he feels Raylan's teeth, spilling precome that Raylan spreads down the length of him.

"Raylan," Boyd says again, and then he's angling his hips up and pulling Raylan down a little more so he can get his hand around both of them. Raylan can't help but buck up into the touch, shifting to brace his hands against the back of the swing as Boyd strokes them together.

"Fuck." Raylan's voice is high and a little breathless. The callouses on Boyd's hands and the want etched clearly on his face are both driving him quickly towards the edge – never mind the way the head of Boyd's cock keeps catching under his own, rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes him see stars. 

He leans up and steals a kiss, more or less panting into Boyd's mouth, and Boyd tenses and groans and comes, spilling all over his own stomach. Raylan can feel the way he pulses, the way Boyd's hand tightens to draw out those trembling aftershocks, and that's enough to drag him over the edge too, adding to the mess on Boyd's stomach.

For a moment, they just sit there, both of them breathing hard, coming down from the intensity of it all. Raylan knows he'll have to move, that his knees are going to punish him for this little bit of afternoon delight, but Boyd is still lax and loose underneath him, still smiling lazily, and Raylan finds he's not in a rush to chase that expression away.

"Five minutes," he says, and closes his eyes as he settles, tucking his face into the crook of Boyd's neck. He feels Boyd's little laugh more than he hears it, but he also feels two arms settle around him, warm and reassuring, so he only nips at Boyd's neck in retaliation. 

When Tim finds them there, twenty minutes later, they're both asleep, both of them clinging to each other. They're sweet, Tim thinks, as he snaps a picture he'll never show to anyone outside of the house. 

He doesn't wake them.

find this fic on AO3 here:

[fixfoxnox]

Something In The Orange - Part 23

Description: The 141 and KorTac go on their mission, leaving Roach behind to make some decisions on how he is going to move forward.

Warnings: Discussions of Dub-con

Note: I am also posting this to my Ao3 if you guys would prefer to read it there!

Word Count: 9.3k

"Rate yourself and rake yourself

Take all the courage you have let

And waste it on fixing all the problems

That you made in your own head"

"Little Lion Man" - Mumford and Sons

He’s warm. So, so, warm. 

His mouth is occupied. Lazy little kisses pressed against his lips. They’re lazy, but they’re also messy open-mouthed things, settling deep into his bones as he lays pliant. He tilts his head into the kiss, chasing the slide of the other's mouth against his own, chasing that hazy feeling that takes over everything. It comes easy when another mouth connects to his neck. 

Kisses, nips, and marks darkened into his skin. He can feel it. He knows they’ll show later. He can’t bring himself to mind. His hand came up, grasping wildly until he managed a lucky grab. His fingers carded through the other's hair, pulling him closer. He pulled away from the mouth against his and turned to connect with the other. Deep and panting kisses. The mouth just against his moved down to press against his skin, a low rumble escaping those lips. 

He can’t quite breathe. Everything is overwhelming but in the best possible way. For the first time in days, he felt genuine peace. That voice in his head is gagged and roughly shoved into a closet. No doubt it would escape later to rear its ugly head, but that didn’t matter.

Hands stroke along his skin, slowly. Reverently. Like he’s something holy. The mouth against his neck moved lower, hands paving a path that it quickly followed down his chest. There are mumbles, little things said that barely register to his ears. 

“We’re sorry. So sorry.”

“Love you, Bug, love you.” 

“Didn’t mean to make you upset. Never again.” 

Roach can hardly focus on the words, but they slot themselves in his mind, warming his chest and pulling a satisfied sigh from his throat. He felt so silly. So silly. He pressed his mouth harder against Simon’s, pulling the man so that his weight was laid across his chest. One of his hands was stroking through his hair carefully. 

Soap was down further, placing reverent kisses along his chest, his hands gripping at his hips. Roach moved one of his hands down, grasping at the man to get his attention. The other knew what he wanted immediately. Their fingers laced together against his skin, holding tight. He arched up into the touch. 

He felt so silly. Why was he even mad in the first place? Why had he been forcing himself to stay away from the two men? Why would he ever make himself sleep alone in that cold and bare room when he could be here? When he could be warm and loved?

“M’sorry,” he managed against Simon’s lips, pulling back just enough that he could mutter his words out. They were still in each other’s space, breathing heavily. “M’sorry, so, so sorry.”

Simon pressed a kiss to his lips, Soap moved back up to do the same. They exchanged soft, loving kisses for several moments. “Did nothing wrong, Bug,” Simon told him simply. 

Roach felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. He knew that wasn’t true. They didn’t know that it wasn’t true. “I did,” he muttered back, “I’m so sorry.” He wanted to hide his face away. He could feel shame creeping up in his system, guilt accompanying it into his chest and quickly rising through his throat. 

A hand came up to caress his cheek, “Calm, Bug.” Soap pressed a kiss to his cheek, then his forehead, before finally lifting their clasped hands to press a kiss to the skin there. “Simon’s right. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He pressed another kiss against his lips, his thumb wiping away a tear that managed to slip from the corner of his eye.

“Love you both,” Roach said the words like a prayer. Like they were the only thing he knew. He connected his lips to Soap first, he was closer, before breaking off to press a kiss to Simon’s mouth. The three of them mold together well, their hands tracing along skin, mouths devouring anything and everything the others were prepared to give them. They’re gentle and loving, taking the moment that they have together before their inevitable separation.

Roach knows that there is much to be said. He knows they don’t understand why he apologized to them. He knows that this moment between them is an apology, an apology that Soap and Ghost don’t understand. Roach tries not to think about that too much. He knows that the two will be gone by the morning.

They’ll be gone by the morning and he’ll be left alone. Left alone with something to prepare for. He hadn’t been sure hours earlier. His therapist’s suggestion had frightened him to his bones. But, at that moment, wrapped up in the arms of the men he loved, smothered by their kisses, feeling affection and warmth burn through his veins, he made his mind up. He would tell them. They would know. For better or worse, they would know. 

“I can see that you are very anxious today,” his therapist gave him a small smile, “I understand you must be quite nervous. Your team left earlier this morning?”

Roach nodded slowly, running a hand over the back of his neck as he resisted the urge to once again look out the window at his side. He knew it would be pointless to, it wasn’t like the team was outside, or even on base. Still, he wanted to see them again. He wished desperately that the team were still there, that he was still wrapped up in the arms of his boyfriends. “They’ll be gone for a few days likely.”

The woman nodded at him, “How are you feeling about that? This is their first lengthier mission while you’ve been on base.” She tilted her head at him, watching his face for anything that would give away how he was feeling.

He was quiet for a moment, thinking over his response. How did he feel? There was worry, obviously. He knew that the other members of the 141 could take care of themselves. They’d done so long before he’d ever come into their lives, but it wouldn’t stop him from stressing about them. He didn’t like not knowing things. 

There was another part of him, one that ached with jealousy. He wanted the normalcy that came with missions. He wanted to feel the rush of adrenaline that came with every mission. It was almost ridiculous how petulant this part of him seemed to be, how much it wanted to scream that he should be out there, helping his team. That he should be doing his job. 

The largest part of him, the one that he hated, was lonely. Lonely and sad. He’d woken up to Soap and Simon gathering their things together, obviously trying to be quiet and not disturb him. He’d watched them quietly, sleep dragging his eyelids down. They’d been so sweet to him the previous night. He hadn’t felt so much peace in so long. They’d come over to kiss him before they left, pressing their lips against his in a quick peck. He’d been left in the silence of the room. 

That part of his mind that had been locked away the day before had managed to escape then, coming back to breathe down his neck and chill him to his bones. It had been trying to talk him out of what he’d decided since the moment he was left alone. It had been whispering those harsh words about how he would be hated. About how he’d lose them. He didn’t care. He had to tell them. 

It helped to have their memory there, sticking around his head. He still had the marks on his neck and chest from their attentions, his therapist's eyes had narrowed in on the marks when he’d come in. He knew she knew what he’d been up to. The phantom feeling of their touches helped him to reassure himself, helped him to challenge that little voice in his head that insisted that he would be hated.

“I’m,” he paused for another moment, considering his words carefully, “I feel a little jealous, to be honest. I’m tired of just sitting on base. It makes me feel useless.” He paused, clasping his hands together in front of him to help him resist the urge to pick at the skin of his hands. “I’m…lonely?” He tilted his head at her, as though she would be able to help him parse together his feelings, “I know I’ve been struggling lately, I’ve been separating myself from them, but now that they’re actually gone I just feel…terrible.”

“Just because you’ve been pushing them away,” his therapist started, “doesn’t mean that they’ve given up on being around you. Or that you still haven’t spent time with them. It’s natural for it to feel different now that they are fully gone.” She took a deep breath, “It might even be good for you. It could help you to see what pushing them away could eventually cause. We can use how you feel in this moment to fight that urge to separate yourself from them.”

Roach nodded at her slowly. He was quiet for a moment before clearing his throat and readjusting his place in his seat. He opened his mouth to speak only to shut it quickly after. He tried again, and the same happened. Anxiety was blocking him from speaking. His mind wanted to, his mind insisted on it. He could feel the words pooling at the back of his throat, begging to spill over onto his tongue. 

Are you really going to tell her? It’s much more real then, you’ll have to tell them. They’ll hate you. Keep your mouth shut. 

Roach grit his teeth, frustration bubbling up right next to that anxiety. He’d made his choice. He wanted to tell them, he needed to tell them. He couldn’t let that little voice in his head rule over him, he couldn’t let Makarov continue to wreak havoc on his life. He took a deep breath like his therapist had recommended to him in their last session. 

He focused on his feet first, feeling the hardness of the ground through his shoes. He felt the plushness of the couch under his body, how it molded to his form. He felt the heat of his own hands, clasped together. He took in another deep breath. That voice in his head, the one that had been yelling at him was slowly coming into focus. It was like he could see an outline of it, an outline of the truth of it. It was becoming more desperate. He’d been trying hard to counter it and it was showing.

“Is there something else?” His therapist prompted kindly, noticing his struggle to speak. Roach was grateful that she’d asked, it made it easier than if he’d kept trying on his own. 

“I, um, I’ve been thinking about what you suggested. About telling the team.” He shifted in his seat, his leg beginning to bounce slightly. He might have made the decision to tell the team, but it didn’t make discussing the issue any easier. 

“Yes,” his therapist nodded to him kindly, “I know it can be a very stressful thing to think about, but I do think it would help with your healing process.”

Roach nodded slowly, “I’d like to. I want to tell them when they get back.” He took in another deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. His leg was still bouncing up and down, shaking the small coffee table in front of him with its force. His therapist’s eyes shot to the movement and he winced, trying to stop his leg from moving, “Sorry. It’s just a scary thing.”

“Don’t apologize,” she gave him a smile, “It’s alright. I understand that talking about this all is overwhelming on its own and thinking about the issue is likely to cause some stress.” She held a hand out gesturing in his direction, “I want to applaud you though, I noticed you using some of those techniques that we discussed yesterday. That’s very good, you should be proud of yourself.”

Roach nodded his head slightly, slinking back into his seat nervously, “Thank you.”

“It’s important that we recognize those victories, no matter how small they are.” The woman flipped through her clipboard quickly, “Would you like to talk about telling the team? We don’t have to talk about any specifics if you don’t want, instead, we can go over a sort of game plan.”

“Game plan?

“Where you plan to tell them, when, and who will be there. We can also discuss and try to work through any lingering concerns you may have about talking to them.” 

Roach hesitated for a moment, there were a great number of concerns that he still had about telling the team. So many worries ran through his mind. It was almost non-stop, the thoughts that screamed at him. The scenarios that the little voice created for him. “It’s a lot,” he spoke carefully, “I’m worried about a lot.”

“We have time,” his therapist responded kindly, “You still have days to prepare yourself. Keep that in mind. And,” she gave him a small smile, “If you change your mind during those few days, that's alright too. It’s all about you and what is going to help you in the long run.”

“Right,” he gave her a short nod, steeling his nerves. That voice was still whispering, still lurking, but he was determined to finally get ahead of it. “I guess let’s talk about it.”

Inside the transport was stifling. There was an odd tension that hung over the group, one that hadn’t been there days ago. It was clear for everyone to see who the sources of the tension were. 

Soap and Ghost weren’t exactly glaring at Konig, but they certainly weren’t looking at him kindly. Anyone who looked at Soap would be able to read the look of anger that was on his face. Ghost was a bit harder to decipher, his mask hiding all of his face but his eyes. Those eyes were set harshly, staring at the man across from him, unblinking. 

Konig wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to earn the ire of the two men. He really thought that they’d at least been on okay terms after the group dinner that first day on base. He hadn’t gone to the bar with the group, too nervous to spend longer than necessary with Roze, Declan, and a number of unknown people on the other team. So he’d just returned to base. 

They seemed like they’d been fine with him that first day on base too. He hadn’t trained with them, he’d been too nervous. One slight jab from Declan had sent him slinking away from the group to sit on his own and stare after them. The only person who’d noticed his absence had been Horangi, Konig had seen the concerned looks he kept shooting back at him, but he couldn’t force himself to get up and comfort the other man. Between not having the usual comfort of his mask and the new people, the entire situation had been hard for him. 

Then he’d made a friend! Roach had been just like him, on the fringes of their groups. It made it much easier for the two to conversate with one another. They seemed to form a natural friendship. Konig knew his anxiety was clear to see for the other man and, though he hid it well, he could clearly see the anger and nerves that seemed to be slowly eating away at his new friend. 

The issue between himself, Soap, and Ghost seemed to have come from the following day. That day he’d sat away from the rest of the group during lunch. Normally he would have sat next to Horangi, taking a little bit of peace from the other man’s presence, not that he would show it. But, by lunch that day his head was hurting and every noise seemed to set anxiety ricocheting around his body. He wasn’t going to force himself to sit with the group when he couldn’t stand any of the noises they would make. 

So he’d sat by himself, interrupted only by Roach’s presence at his table. It hadn’t been as bad as he’d worried initially. The other man’s chatter gave his mind something to focus on and slowly helped to lessen the general noises that were driving him up the wall. So he’d chatted easily with the other man until they were interrupted by the sudden presence of their teams around them. 

Luckily, Horangi had managed to snag the seat next to him, so Konig was able to take a bit of private comfort in his presence. On either side of Roach were Soap and Ghost, leaning closer to him than Konig thought was strictly professional. A little thought had nudged its way into his mind, but when Declan had teased Roach about his intentions with him, he’d tossed it aside. Clearly, the relationship between the three wasn’t what he’d assumed. 

Roach had stormed off soon after that, with quick words to meet him once he’d finished his lunch. Konig had intended to go alone, but he was followed by both of the teams at the urging of Captain Price. He hadn’t thought it was the best idea, but that wasn’t his place. 

Then there was training. This was when he really seemed to notice the glares of Soap and Ghost burning into his skin. It wasn’t until he was pinned to the ground by Ghost that the little thought returned to his brain, warning him that he was dealing with a situation that wasn’t just friendship between the three. There was something else that brewed in the eyes of the other two men, something closer to jealousy.

Now Konig was sat across from the two, trying not to shift in his seat as their eyes burned into him. He had his hood on, and that certainly helped to hide his nerves, but his general slouched demeanor and uncomfortable movement made it clear to anyone that looked that the other two men were getting to him. 

A hand brushed against the edge of his thigh. The movement would have looked like an accident to anyone else, but Konig knew better. He looked through the corner of his eyes at the man next to him, allowing himself to take comfort in his presence. The touch was small, but he knew what it meant. Horangi was trying to comfort him as best he could with so many people around. 

“Your staring is getting obnoxious,” Horangi’s voice was almost booming in the small space of the plane. Konig winced, looking back to Soap and Ghost. He should have known that the man next to him wouldn’t be able to keep quiet, he never was when someone or something was so clearly bothering his taller companion. 

The silence in the plane grew to be more stifling, covering anything and everything around it. Ghost and Soap’s eyes never moved, they remained firmly planted on Konig. “If I did something wrong,” Konig said after a moment, shifting in his seat, “I apologize.”

Soap gave a slight scoff, but he was met with an elbow to the stomach by Captain Price. The Captain appeared to be glaring at his men trying to get them in check. They, very clearly, were not cooperating. “Lads,” he hissed, “This is a mission. Get your shit together before it hits the field.”

There was another small bout of silence that hung over the plane before Soap was tilting forward in his seat to grind out, “Roach, what was it you called him?”

Konig blinked at the question. “What?”

“You called Roach something yesterday,” Soap responded with a quick glare, “What did you call him, he’s one of our men and, at the end of the day, this is a joint operation. Professionalism is expected.” The words were almost ironic coming from the man, “So what did you call him?”

Konig understood then that the little part of his brain that warned him that it was jealousy that was driving the two men in front of him had been right. These men were in love with Roach, clearly, and they saw Konig as a threat. It was times like these when he wished that he and Horangi hadn’t decided to be so secretive with their relationship. 

Horangi seemed to have the same train of thought as Konig, a small snicker escaping his lips as he likely realized what was happening. The noise had Ghost and Soap shooting a small glare at him. Konig noted the way that Soap’s lip seemed to curl up into a snarl and he knew that he should likely offer a way to calm the men. 

“Schabe,” he started quickly, bringing their attention back to him, “It just means Roach in German. I apologize for any confusion.” He folded his hands in front of him carefully, “Your team may rest assured that my friendship with your teammate is strictly professional.”

“Yeah, not for nothing lads, but Konig here’s too anxious to even think about making a move on your short stack,” Declan gave a small snicker before a little groan as Horangi reached over to smack his shoulder. Typically his words would bother Konig, but at that moment he couldn’t help but be grateful for the other man chiming in. 

There was a beat as both of the other men looked at one another, seemingly having a silent conversation. After a moment, Ghost looked back at him, “Keep it professional, Konig, and we shouldn’t have an issue.”

“There we go,” Gaz gave a grin to everyone around the plane, “We’re all good now, right? No more posturing or bullshit because these two are jealous?” He turned to Soap and Ghost with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “You two are ridiculous sometimes you know? Roach merely talks to someone else and you assume they want him.”

“Bold words for someone dating his ex-boyfriend,” Soap shot back grumpily. “Those are his leftovers that you’re enjoying.”

“And they’re delicious,” Gaz gave a quick huff before looking away from the men, a blush sitting high on his cheeks. 

“Wait, wait,” Declan sat up suddenly in his seat, “So the two of you are dating, but you’re also with the short stack?” He shook his head to himself, a look of confusion on his face, “How does that work?”

“Don’t answer that,” Captain Price didn’t even bother looking at Soap, but it was clear to see that he’d sensed the other's mischievous grin somehow. His snappy words pulled a disappointed frown from Soap.

Konig let out a relieved sigh as the tension that lay thickly over the plane seemed to dissipate. They still had several hours before they touched down, then they’d likely have almost an entire day before they’d actually go in after their targets. It was going to be much easier to get through that time when he didn’t have to worry about the oppressive tension that had been plaguing the air. 

Beside him, that hand brushed his thigh again. A small move of comfort. He found himself wishing that he and the man next to him could be as open about their affection as the men sitting across from him. He’d love, more than anything, the comfort of holding Horangi’s hand.

“-and then I passed out.” Roach took a deep breath, looking over the paper in his hands again. Trying to make sure that he’d covered everything. Once he was sure, he looked back to the computer in front of him, watching the careful expression of the man on the screen. He reached his hand up, wiping at his face slightly to rid himself of some of the tears that had flowed down his cheeks as he spoke. 

Jackson hadn’t shown much of a reaction to Roach’s words, keeping his face carefully neutral until he’d gotten to discussing his brief “relationship” with the terrorist. His face had gone red, his hands clenched in front of his face, and his eyes were fixed firmly just below the camera. Roach had been terribly worried that the man was mad at him, he’d been sure of it.

That was until he’d seen the tears that so clearly were forming in his friend's eyes. He’d known then, known that his friend wasn’t mad at him. It had prompted him to start crying as well and it had been more difficult than he expected to actually get through the rest of his story. Behind the laptop, his support had come from his therapist who sat quietly, only speaking to help calm him down when he got too overwhelmed.

He’d written everything out after his session the night before. One of his biggest worries with telling people had been that he would trip over himself and say something wrong, so his therapist had recommended that he write out everything that he wanted to say beforehand and use it as a guide. It made things much easier than just trying to communicate in the moment, no doubt he would have tripped over his own words. 

He’d decided to start small with telling people, which just meant telling the one person who he knew wouldn’t react badly to his words. He and Jackson had been friends for a very long time and not even that voice in his head could convince him that Jackson would hate him for what had happened. There was no betrayal to the man, unlike with the team, only his story.

“Roach,” Jackson’s creaky voice pulled him from his thoughts and he brought his gaze to the other man’s face through their video call. Jackson opened his mouth to speak but seemed to be struggling to find the right words. After a moment, he settled on, “Thank you for telling me.”

Roach nodded his head slowly at the other man, feeling his hands shake around the paper clasped in them. “I hope,” he started nervously, “I hope this doesn’t change how you see me or anything. I know what I did,” he stopped, feeling his voice get caught in his throat. 

On the screen, Jackson shook his head at him rapidly, “Roach, nothing that happened was your fault. You did what you had to do to survive. You know that, right?” Roach didn’t answer, only turned his gaze away from the camera slightly, guilt gnawing at his insides. “Roach,” Jackson called out, “Makarov made you kill those people. Makarov took advantage of you. You started the relationship because you felt like you had to to survive. That’s not your fault.”

“He’s right,” his therapist added lightly, nodding her head at the computer, “What happened to you, what you did, none of it is your fault.”

“Thank you,” Roach managed to get out, his nose twitching slightly with that tell-tale sign that he was going to begin crying again. “I’m glad I told you, Paul.”

“I’m glad you told me too,” Jackson gave him a small smile through the camera, “Have you told the team yet?”

Roach took in a shaky breath at the question, picking at his nails lightly as he did, “Not yet.” He shifted in his seat, looking up at his therapist for support before returning his gaze to the computer, “They’re on a mission right now. I’m going to tell them when they get back.”

“That’s good,” Jackson gave him a small nod, “They’ll understand, Roach. They’ll say the same thing that I did.” Jackson sent him a reassuring smile.

“I hope you’re right,” Roach responded simply.

Jackson gave him a bright grin, “I’m always right, Sanderson. Or did you forget?”

The words managed to pull a small laugh from Roach’s throat, a light feeling coming into his chest. He didn’t know if Jackson was right about the team taking it well, but he did know that he already felt much lighter, some of the weight of what had been laying on his chest finally lifting away.

Ghost really hated the ultranationalists. He disliked all of the terrorist groups that his team came up against, but if he could, he would wipe out every ultranationalist on the planet in the most painful drawn-out way that he could. He absolutely despised the ultranationalists. 

He knew that most of his ire for the ultranationalists was because of Makarov and what he’d done to Roach. That was enough to make him hate the group. The man that the team was chasing now, though? He was doing a fine job of helping Ghost justify the hatred that he felt. 

After arriving in Brazil, the team had to wait an entire day before making their move. That day was spent waiting, doing recon work, and more waiting. Everyone on the team was more than ready to move in by the time that night finally fell over the streets. They’d loaded up into their transport after the sun had gone down, each of them fully geared up and ready for a fight. 

Price had given them a quick reminder of the plan during the drive over, “We enter quiet, we enter clean. No witnesses. Costa is to be taken alive. However,” he’d eyed the people around the van then, “Our ultranationalist friend shouldn’t leave this complex breathing.”

“No kill or capture?” Roze had questioned lightly. 

“No,” Price shook his head, “If we capture, he gets released. We can’t let that happen. Remember, Costa alive, any ultranationalists you see, shoot on sight.” Ghost had only given a nod at the orders, knowing that what Price had said about the ultranationalist was true. 

While the ultranationalists were still considered a terrorist organization, because this particular up-and-comer hadn’t technically done anything to aid the organization yet, capture would only result in his release. Ghost had no issue with taking out a terrorist though, whether they’d technically done anything yet or not. 

The rest of the ride to their drop point had been fairly quiet, each member of the two teams taking their time to prepare themselves for the next several hours of their lives. Things were going to be chaotic and they were going to move quickly, but each of the people there was determined to get their job done. 

Eventually, Gaz pulled their transport to a stop across the street from the almost mansion-like house where they knew that Costa and the ultranationalists were having their meeting. The house reminded Ghost almost too much of Rojas’ estate and the weeks that had resulted from the team’s time during the mission. 

It only served to draw his mind back to the man waiting for them back on base. Roach had been acting differently lately, pushing himself away from the team. Ghost knew that. He could see it. He could feel the anger that radiated off of his boyfriend, but there was something else there. Something else seemed to be weighing him down. He just didn’t know what. 

What he did know, was that the last place that he wanted to be was on a mission. He wanted to be back on base, wrapped up in the arms of his two boyfriends. He wanted to press kisses to both of the men, to make sure that they both knew how much he loved and cared for them. He wanted to keep Roach in his arms, pressed between himself and Soap for hours until whatever things had been weighing on him finally began to melt away. Instead, he was back in Brazil, once again chasing an ultranationalist and a weapons dealer. The thought made him feel sick. 

Everyone filed out of the van together, stacking up in a proper formation as Price and Gaz locked up the van. Ghost was closer to the front with Soap stacked up behind him. Directly next to him was Roze and next to Soap was Horangi. Declan and Konig took up the back and, once things were locked up properly, Gaz and Price moved up to the front of the group. 

“Alright team,” Price motioned for everyone to begin forward, “Let’s get this done.” 

The group carefully crossed the street and moved into the densely wooded area surrounding the mansion. They would have to make a mile’s trek through the woods before actually arriving at the house. It was likely going to be the calmest part of the entire mission. 

Price led the group through the woods, occasionally giving a quiet call out to ensure that no one had been left behind in the almost overwhelming darkness of the trees around them. Even their flashlights weren’t doing much in the way of providing light for the group. It was a miracle that they managed to stay on their path the entire way up to the house.

They stopped when they reached the edge of the woods, pausing at Price’s raised hand. The group took a moment, observing the heavily guarded residence in front of them. Where Rojas’ estate hadn’t been guarded as well during the night, Costa seemed to have taken extra precautions to make sure that every inch of her estate could be watched carefully during the night. 

Bright flood lights lit up the entire yard of the mansion, preventing anyone from even attempting to use shadows as cover. Guards with automatic rifles were milling about the yard, Ghost counted nearly twenty just in front of their group. Some of them seemed as though they were actively on guard while others simply sat around chatting with one another. Either way, they all blocked the group's path up to the house. 

“So much for entering quiet,” Price muttered to the group. “Alright, listen up. Ghost, Soap, Gaz, on my mark I want you to shoot out every light on that field. Use your suppressors so they can’t tell where we’re at.” Price turned to face the group. “Once we’re in the dark, I want everyone to use their night vision. We’re going to clear out this group of guards.”

“They’ll know we’re here,” Horangi pointed out.

“Yes,” Price agreed with a nod of his head, “But they won’t know how many of us there are. We’ll still have some form of surprise on our side. When we get into the house, we’ll split up and cut off the entrances. Costa and our ultranationalist friend won’t have anywhere to go.” He looked around at the group carefully, “Any objections?”

No one said a word for several moments and, at the lack of objection, Price gave a nod. He turned back to the field in front of him, motioning for Soap, Ghost, and Gaz to step into position and ready themselves to take out the lights. Ghost stepped up beside him, carefully aiming his weapon at one of the groups of lights. They would have to be quick with the sheer number of lights that there were, but Ghost didn’t think they’d have a problem if all three of them worked together. 

“Take them out,” Price called after a moment. Immediately the group opened fire, quickly and efficiently taking out each of the lights in the field until there was nothing but darkness in front of their eyes. They could hear the confusion and panic from the guards and, after pulling on his night vision goggles, Ghost could see the men slowly beginning to move around, looking for the source of what had taken out the lights. “Alright,” Price gave a wave of his hand, “Move in. Weapons free.”

The team didn’t waste any time, all eight of them moving out from the woods to begin systematically picking off the twenty or so men in the field. With their numbers and the obvious confusion on the part of the guards, it didn’t take longer than a few seconds to fully clear their path. They quickly pushed up to the house after that.

They approached the back entrance to the house carefully, their night vision turned off as they grew closer to the bright lights of the home. No words had to be exchanged as they stacked up on each side of the door, four to a group. Price gave them a quick count with his fingers before he was slamming the door open and pushing into the house. 

They were met with a brief bit of resistance from the guards directly in front of the door, but they were no match for the eight specialized team members who’d broken into the house. Once those men were down the team was left with a brief break from the guards, though they all knew that they were likely going to be faced with increased resistance soon. 

“Alright, listen up, we’re moving quickly here,” Price drew everyone’s attention towards him, “Gaz, Conor, Roze, Horangi, You’re staying with me, we’re going to cover the exits and bottom floor of the house.” He turned to Ghost, “Ghost, you take Soap and Konig up with you to the top floor. I want it cleared for both targets. Let’s get this done.”

Ghost didn’t argue, but he did feel a bit annoyed that he would have to take Konig with him. The man hadn’t done anything wrong, technically, but Ghost was still feeling the lingering effects of the previous day's jealousy in his veins. Still, he was professional, so he didn’t let it show as he turned and motioned for Soap and Konig to follow behind him. 

They quickly moved away from their teammates, circling around to a set of side stairs that would take them up to the second floor but, hopefully, avoid most resistance they might meet along the way. Ghost had the entire house’s floor plan memorized, so it wasn’t hard for him to guide Soap and Konig to the staircase. 

They moved carefully, trying to ensure that they flew under the radar of the guards in the house. If they thought that all of their forces were on the first floor of the house, it would make their job much easier. 

Ghost motioned for the two men to stop when they reached the top of the staircase. He carefully and quietly began pushing the door open, peeking out to check what kind of forces they would be dealing with. There were several men lingering in the hallway, he counted who he could see before turning to report to the two men behind him, “Six in total. Let’s do this smart, boys. We need to-”

He didn’t get a chance to explain his plan as suddenly the door was yanked open and he was forced to defend himself from a knife headed straight for his face. He quickly grabbed the arm of his would-be assailant, shoving him back into the hallway to slam against the wall across from the door. He followed behind him, kicking the man’s knee and breaking it with a harsh cracking noise. He pulled his own knife then, digging it quickly into the man’s neck. Behind him, he could hear Konig and Soap make their way out of the staircase and open fire on the guards at the end of the hall. 

It was a miracle that none of them were shot as they exchanged quick-fire with the men down the hall. They had no cover, but luckily it seemed that they were the better shots and soon there were no more guards in the way of their path. “Group back up,” Ghost ordered as he moved back to the front of the two. The second floor of the building was large, there was no doubt that it was going to take them some time to clear everything. 

“Price, we’re on the second floor. Beginning our sweep.” He motioned with his hands for Konig and Soap to follow him to the first door along their path. They had to start somewhere, though they knew that they likely had a long run ahead of them. 

The first room they tried was, blessedly, empty. Ghost opened the door for Soap and Konig to pop in quickly, clearing the room without a single shot fired. The next several rooms went by much the same. It seemed clear to them that most of the guards in the house had either been stationed outside of the building or had moved to the bottom floor. 

They continued through the various halls of the building, popping into rooms and systematically clearing every part of the second floor. It wasn’t until they reached one of the back corners of the house that they began noticing an increase in guards. 

The first they noticed was that there were several guards stationed in the hallway on that end. Luckily they were able to take the men by surprise, quickly and quietly taking them out with either their weapons or, in Konig’s case, slamming one of the men down against his knee in a brutal move. Ghost was more than a little impressed with the man. He wasn’t going to tell him that, though.

They moved to clear the rooms next, not even getting a chance to clear two of them as the men inside burst into the hall, likely having heard some of the thumps of their men’s bodies hitting the floor. Again, they were fairly easy to take out, only a few quick shots knocking them to the floor. 

From there, they moved into the other rooms at the end of the hall, opening one door to clear a room of four men before repeating that process with the other rooms. After much more action than they’d gotten used to from the other rooms, they found themselves in front of the furthest door in that hallway. “Price,” Ghost reported as he, Konig, and Soap lined up on either side of the door, “We’re pushing into a room at the east corner of the south, large numbers of guards in front of it. We’ll report back once inside.”

“Sounds good, make it quick if you can, we’re facing large numbers down here from both inside and outside.”

Ghost shared a concerned look with the other two men, “Copy, do we need to send one of us down as reinforcements?”

“Negative, we’re holding the line for now.”

“Right,” Ghost tilted his head to the door, “Pushing in now.” He bashed the door open, moving in first as Soap and Konig followed behind. There were several men inside the first area of the room, but they were fairly quick to be taken out. Once they were down, the group was left alone in a small, empty room. 

“Door,” Konig pointed out, moving toward a large, reinforced door. “Locked,” he reported after trying the door.

“Looks like a code on it,” Soap moved closer to the door, leaning down to look at the little keypad that rested above the doorknob. 

Ghost gave an annoyed sigh, “Likely a saferoom. Price,” he pressed into his comms, “We think we’ve located the targets.”

“You think?”

“Reinforced door with a keypad on the outside. Likely a safe room,” He looked around the room quietly, “We’ll have to figure out a way in.”

“Copy, get in there as quick as possible.”

“Alright, look around the room, see if we can find any hints on the code,” he nodded to the two men before making a b-line for a small desk that rested in the room. There was a small computer monitor sitting on the desk, but he paid it no mind in favor of beginning to dig through the drawers in the desk. He could hear Soap and Konig shuffling around behind him, likely also digging through the information in the room.

There were several moments of silent searching through the room before a sudden burst of light from in front of him had Ghost wincing. It was the monitor on the desk. Rather suddenly, the small monitor had turned on, as though by itself. Now it was displaying a small message on the screen. “Incoming call. Would you like to accept?”

Ghost stared at it for a moment before using the small mouse on the desk to hesitantly click on the yes option. There was a part of his mind that screamed at him that this was some sort of trap. He only clicked yes after checking to be sure that the computer wasn’t somehow wired to a bomb in the room. 

There was a small pause as a loading screen popped up on the computer before, finally, the screen was taken up by a video call of some sort, with the man that he and his team were after taking up the frame. “Hello, members of the 141. Or at least, I assume you are the 141.”

The words caught the attention of Soap and Konig who made their way over to peer over his shoulder, “What the hell is this?” Soap asked, confusion clear on his face.

“This,” the man responded with a grin, “Is a live call between the two of us. I know that you are outside of the saferoom right now, likely trying to find a way in.”

“A trap,” Ghost said idly, “You’ve probably sent communication to reinforcements on our location. Konig, try the door again. Any string of numbers you’ve found in the room, put them in.” Konig gave a quick nod before moving back over to the door. “We’ll have to move fast,” Ghost explained to Soap, “And warn Price. We need to-”

“Now, now,” the man on the call made a tutting noise, catching the attention of Soap and Ghost once again, “Don’t be unfun. I was under the impression that the members of your team were quite fun.”

Soap snorted, “Oh yeah? Where’d you get that idea from?”

The man tilted his head at them, a small smug grin tugging at his lips, “Well, Makarov seemed to have a lot of fun with a member of your team.” Both Soap and Ghost tensed at the man’s words, sharing a glance with one another, “I mean, he seemed to keep a madman well entertained during his time here.”

“Konig, how is the door coming,” Ghost asked through gritted teeth. He could see the image of Roach’s beaten and bloodied body in his mind's eye again. The image had haunted him along with the knowledge that it hadn’t been the first time that Roach had been on the wrong end of Makarov’s fists. 

“Still working on it,” The Austrian man muttered. Ghost could see from his posture that he was listening to what the man on the call was saying to the two. 

“I must applaud your team,” the man on the call caught their attention again, “I mean the dedication that your little friend showed in tricking Makarov,” he shook his head quietly, “I never would have gone so far.”

“What the fuck are you talking about,” Ghost hissed out.

“Killing people for him,” the man tilted his head, “and well…you know.” There was a pause. Soap and Ghost knew that Roach had been forced to kill people for Makarov, of course, they knew. They’d been witness to it in Finland. Outside of that, though, Roach hadn’t been willing to share more about his time with Makarov, and the two hadn’t wanted to push. Their confusion must have shown on their faces because the man gave a low chuckle followed by a look of faux pity. “Oh, you don’t know? Well, I can’t blame your little friend for not telling, I wouldn’t want to live with the shame either.”

“Konig,” Ghost called again.

“I’m trying lieutenant,” Konig shot the two men a concerned look before turning back to continue working on the door. 

“Would you like to see?” The man called, “Would you like to see what he did? Makarov was a very paranoid man, you know, he kept cameras all over that compound, including one that he kept for himself in the room that housed your friend.” The man gave a grin, “When you launched your little raid, I decided the back up the footage from the room to give myself a bit more sway with Makarov. Blackmail if you will. It is very interesting footage.”

“You’re a fucking liar,” Soap called, banging one of his fists onto the table, “You don’t have shit. You’re just trying to buy time.”

The man gave an innocent shrug, “Look for yourself.” 

The screen changed. It was obvious that the footage that they were watching was taken in the dark, the figures a bit grainy around the edges. Despite that, it wasn’t hard to tell who the two figures that they were looking at were. There was Makarov, with his back to the camera, a cigarette hanging loosely from his hand. Across from him, curled up on a bed was Roach. 

“What is this,” Soap breathed out. They couldn’t hear what was being said, they could only watch. Ghost felt his heart beginning to pick up speed. What exactly was going on?

“Sergeant, Lieutenant,” Konig called out to the two as he continued typing things into the door, “You shouldn’t watch that. It’s probably meant to upset you.”

They ignored him, their eyes glued to the grainy footage in front of him. They could see Makarov take a drag from his cigarette before handing it over to Roach who, to the increasing dread in Ghost’s chest, brought the cigarette up to his mouth and took a puff from it. He could feel cold horror pooling in his chest as he continued watching the footage, watching Roach chat with the man who’d nearly killed him. His knuckles were white from his grip on the table in front of him. 

They watched Makarov lean forward in his seat, watching Roach snub the cigarette out against his leg before leaning back against his hands in an almost flirtatious manner. Ghost could hear his breathing picking up as the video continued rolling. 

“Lieutenant, Sergeant,” Konig abandoned the door to make his way to them, “Stop watching this, it’s what he wants. We need to move. We need to find the combination.”

But they didn’t listen, they couldn’t move. They couldn’t pull their eyes away. There was a moment that passed on the screen, something changed, but they didn’t know what. Makarov brought a hand up to stroke along Roach’s face. Ghost felt like he was going to be sick. Another moment passed and Makarov was surging forward, pressing his lips against Roach’s desperately. 

They didn’t get to see more. Konig shoved them to the side, quickly grabbing the monitor in his hands and slamming it back onto the desk, effectively breaking the thing and cutting the video off. He turned to Soap and Ghost, concern shining clear in his eyes. “The code. Find the code. We need to move, now!”

Ghost did as he was told, almost numbly. The image of Makarov kissing Roach was seared into his mind. He felt sick. He felt dizzy. He wanted Roach to be there. He wanted to squish Roach between himself and Soap and not let him leave until he knew that it was okay. He understood, suddenly, why Roach had been behaving oddly around himself and Soap for so long. Why he’d seemed almost guilty. Why he hadn’t wanted to talk about his time in Russia. Ghost understood, probably better than Roach thought that he would. 

That thought was what was getting to him the most. The fact that Roach hadn’t told them, was likely because he believed they wouldn’t have handled the information well. He wondered what the other had thought that they would do. Did he think they would be mad? Did he think they would be disgusted with him? Did he think they would leave him? Those thoughts made him feel sicker than anything that he’d seen in the video. One glance at Soap told him that the other man was also likely having a similar spiral of thoughts.

He tried to refocus himself. The sooner they finished this mission, the sooner they could go home and make sure that Roach knew that they loved him and that nothing was going to change that. Especially not the things he was forced to do while with a terrorist. 

He started looking around the room again, searching quickly through papers and drawers for any string of numbers or any sort of hints that would tell him anything. Eventually, he came to a stop at one of the papers, looking carefully at what appeared to be a crossword puzzle shoved in with the rest of the papers.

He noticed immediately that there were only three parts of the crossword that weren’t filled out. “Konig,” he called out, looking at the paper, “Try this. 141217.”

Konig typed the numbers in quickly and, to the group's immense pleasure, a little green light shone over the door and Konig was able to twist the door handle to begin to pull open the large hunk of metal. Soap and Ghost immediately moved in, squeezing into the room as soon as they were able. 

Ghost was forced to take an attack from KorTac’s target, Francisca Costa. Luckily she was rather easy to subdue and he quickly had her arms locked behind her back. Soap, on the other hand, was punching the living daylights out of their other target, the one who’d shown them the video of Roach. 

Ghost passed Costa off to Konig as soon as he could, quickly approaching where Soap was beating the man into submission, blood coating his knuckles. Ghost let him continue for several moments, watching with a sick sort of satisfaction as his boyfriend bloodied the man’s face. After another few moments, he called, “Alright. That’s enough.”

Soap gave the man one more good punch to the face before pushing off of him. Ghost didn’t waste any time, simply pulled his sidearm from his belt and delivered a quick shot to the man on the ground before tucking the gun back into its holster. “Price,” He turned back to the door, motioning for Soap to follow him, “We’re on our way down. Target is down, Costa is in custody. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Roach paced around his room, trying not to let his mind get the best of him as he waited. He’d been in therapy for the day when the team arrived and now the group was in their post-mission meeting. He knew what was going to come after and the anxiety of what he was going to be explaining soon meant that he couldn’t sit still. He would drive himself crazy if he tried. 

He shook his hands out as he paced, trying to take deep breaths and ignore the voice in his head that was screaming at him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a rough knock hit his door. He stood for a moment, frozen, before nervously stepping forward to open it. 

His eyebrows shot up as he met the gaze of Konig. “Aren’t you supposed to be in-”

“The meeting, yes. I stepped out with an excuse, I felt like I needed to warn you,” Konig’s hands twisted together in front of him nervously.

“Warn me?”

“The Ultranationalist that we were looking for. He showed Soap and Ghost a video. Of you.”

Roach could feel anxiety creeping up his throat, “What video?”

“You and a man, Makarov. You kissed.”

There was a beat. Roach couldn’t breathe. He grew dizzy. Soap and Ghost knew. Soap and Ghost knew. Soap and Ghost knew. He couldn’t breathe. He felt sick. The world spun around him. He only barely managed to give Konig a nod before shutting the door, numbly stumbling back toward the bed in the room. 

He fell onto the softness of the mattress, the world still spinning around him. Tears stung his eyes. He tucked into himself. That voice in his head started to laugh. He couldn’t make it stop. 

Prev: Part 22

Next: Part 24 - Coming Soon

[bells-of-black-sunday]

[ machine ] + [ breath play ] - Yijun and Abel

Kinky Scenario's | Accepting

[ machine ] my muse is getting fucked by a machine while your muse watches them

[ breath play ] your muse consensually chokes my muse while they are having sex with them

How had it even come to this? How desperately his flesh craved something like this, how those blood red eyes watching him drool around the claws in his mouth and his desire spill onto the floor beneath them made him feel like he was above God in so many more ways than he was used to. A different kind of praise and worship, a gaze that wanted to kill him, but seemed so content with watching him struggle to catch a breath that he'd never be able to with the machine's merciless pace.

Such a pretty being, angelic in the dim light that caught his skin, tied and bound reduced to groveling on the floor. Maybe that's what the demon was so amused over? That dark chuckle that met Yijun's ears sent a shiver down his spine and his thighs to become ever more slick forcing more tears down his mascara run cheeks. It was embarrassing, but in all the most lovely ways possible. They both knew Yijun could stop whenever he wanted yet there he ways greedily sucking on Abel's claws like the pretty little whore he was.

His thighs quivered and his body shook with another orgasm digging his claws further into the palms of his hands unable to do much, but the red rope was such pretty contrast against his pale skin. Yet the pace remained not giving him any bit of a chance to regain his composure muffled whines turned into quiet whimpers again, the only thing his sore throat could manage. But it felt too good to stop. His mind swimming with emotions, horrid emotions. human emotions and yet so dirty and filthy it'd make Lilith herself blush.

When the machine stopped his bronze irises widened trying to pull himself off his fingers enough to protest only to hear chiding words he didn't bother to pay attention to as he was forcefully moved onto his back. Bound legs forced apart to make way for the desire that brushed against his. He was so fucking wet- his cock twitching with want not even satisfied when he was split open by the demon that enveloped him like a cloak of night.

The clawed hand that invaded his mouth retracted to wrap painfully around his throat forcing him to look at him as their hips slotted together. Fresh bruises shadowing his finger tips and yet there was no malice behind those bloody eyes. Maybe not love or adoration either, but definitely not malice. The demon wanted him with every fiber that made up his being, to be fucked and filled like it was the only thing he was made for. As if it were something that could sustain him like the succubi talked so sweetly about.

Every little thrust brought a shudder to his form, more tears, more of a mess- he was so much rougher than that machine. Or maybe Abel just got tired of watching and wanted a taste of his own. All of Yijun's thoughts were centered around him, how he wanted him to unravel him, make a mess of his beautiful form and drink in everything he had to offer. Realistically it didn't take long for the next orgasm to rock his body letting out a strained cry as he panted Abel's name like the gospel.

Truthfully no matter how his body desperately wanted to keep going, he was mildly relieved when he heard the demon's breath stutter and the warmth that spread through him to join the mess he had already made of himself. Their chests heaved against each other and he felt the ropes release as the other demons shadowy form retreated off of him and towards the door. Yijun forced himself to sit up ignoring the strands of hair that fell in his face, "No... stay." A simple plead when usually he would've kicked him out.

A human plead. The disgust faded quickly this time, truly it wasn't any more disgusting of a feeling than the state he already was in. No... this was a human act, but one of sin. That could be forgiven.

[lorensonebraincell]

D E A D the way i only got through like 1/3 of editing this LMAOOO pls don't fire me pls pls pls 🙏

BUT HEY PSYCHO JOONG MADE IT INTO THE DAY OF LIGHT i still remember when we were bouncing ideas about making the most unhinged yun fic and then an unhinged joong fic and look where we are now BOTH OF THEM DONE AND DUSTED 💅

okay firstly i'm so proud of you for incorporating motifs into your works like RAHHHHH RED YESSSSS it just links everything together so well and makes all the ideas and themes so chefs kiss mwah mwah

also literally like just a few paragraphs in and already the pLOT IS THICKENING and can i just say babes your characterisation (as always) was soooooo good in this like they're unhinged and cray cray yeah but they're not just brainless loopies they legit have reasons and motives and thoughts behind the delulu (us we're just delulu no thoughts 🥰)

and the build up of seXUAL tEnSiON bEtWENE THEM AND THE WANTING AND YEARNING AND LONGING AND THE ✨mind games✨ UGH HITS SO GOOD and the pacing yum yum

trust you to give the comedic relief as well throughout the story like you just cannot go a day without dissing joong :'))) the KiDS' SECTION 💀 and the fact that you chose that part to release as a teaser so that you could pretend this was gonna be a happy go lucky story HA HA HA gottem good 🤩

can i just say reader is so strong bc joong could breathe in my direction and i'd be folding and simping for him fr fr LIKE THE WAY HE CALLS HER princess RAHHHHHH ARF ARF ARF AND HIS RASPY VOICE WHEN YALL DOING THE SEGGS

also wow dirtyumi makes a comeback we haven't seen smut in a hot minute 🙈🙉🙊 goOD GIRL AKSJLFLDSG GOODO FKALDFJSD FGIRLL DLSGJHDSLKH oh and then look at hongjoong simping for reader when she calls him my king damn you really laying on the petnames real thicc 😍

the way you weave so many elements into your plot is always so commendable and big brain like you just cannot be satisfied with a simple plan that leads to a simple problem nah man it's gotta be a thousand different components that all fit together like a puzzle and just wow wow your brain wow

especially when it all starts to slot into place but go down like hongjoong starting to suspect YOU and realise that you're actually so much more dangerous than he thought like HOHOH YES THIS IS JUST THE START OF THE GOOD STUFF >:DDD (good stuff aka hard dom smut apparently HAHAHAHA)

YOOO WAIT WHAT MINGI???? BLUEBIRDDD OMMGSDKGLJ nKJLAG WAIT WAIT WIAT WAIT I ACTUALLY DID NOT SEE THAT COMING AT ALL HOLD UP oh my god of course you wouldn't just plant random cameos into the story eye- 👁️👄👁️

and stop. stop it. the ending????? god the emotions????? and the mutual discussion where they ask whether they ever did love each other and the maybes and the wanting to redeem themselves in another lifetime with each other ??????????? HELLO???? AND THE HOLDING THE HANDS EVEN WHEN YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET EXECUTED??? like hongjoong sir you ain't convincing anyone yOU'RE IN LAUURRVVV

AND THE MOTIF. THE MOTIF. OMGGG THE MOTIF. THE COLOURS. THE RED AND THE SILVER UGH. YUMI BABES YOU DID SO WELL WITH THE ENDING FOR THIS FIC I CAN'T EVEN EXPLAIN HOW PROUD I AM OF YOU

YOU SAW SILVER- GLORIOUS AND ABSOLUTE LIKE THE SWORD THAT PAINTED YOU BOTH RED YOU'RE ACTUALLY A POET. THIS IS GOING TO BE ON MY MIND FOR A VERY LONG TIME. DEFS MY FAVE LINE FROM THIS FIC BY FARRRRR

New World

crownprince!hongjoong x royalphysician!reader

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

dni if you're not comfortable with this trope.

word count: 27k

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

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

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

Red might just be your favourite colour.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And almost bumping into none other than the Crown Prince.

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

“How is the King’s condition?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There. He was now ‘the King’.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And if you were… 

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

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

—------------------------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right outside.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Got him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But your reason was still the same.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-----------------------------------

A tool for him to use as he pleased.

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

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

“Why are you looking at the death registers?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, Miss Doctor,” the Prince said almost tauntingly. “What are your recent findings?”

“You won’t be sending me for execution after, will you?” You asked jokingly, though a small part in your heart was scared that you were absolutely wrong about the Prince. 

“That depends on the information I learn tonight,” he made himself clear. “I cannot have the royal physician murdering the King claiming that it was for the Crown Prince. Not a good look for me.”

You agreed, passing him the family tree and pointing at the death register. “These are the official medical records which are in the main library as well. But these parts-” you pointed at the red ink. “That’s information that was never made public. Abnormalities noticed during the treatment of your grandfather who suffered from the same disease as your father. Notice how opium was used for treatment for a few weeks?”

Hongjoong skimmed through the notes, finding an unnamed opium compound mentioned in the treatment section. “And what’s odd about opium being used as a medicine?”

“That they stopped within a few weeks but administered it again- look at how it’s scratched, but the symptoms I’m observing in your father now are similar to your grandfather’s even after they apparently stopped using this opium compound. I asked around and found out which ingredients were used and attempted to replicate this drug for your father. Ruby.”

“Ah,” Hongjoong nodded in realisation. “But why would they stop mentioning the drug- oh, they wouldn’t.”

The air suddenly felt grim as Hongjoong realised that there was a chance that medical malpractice or perhaps, bad intentions were what took his grandfather’s life. “Who was the royal physician at that time?”

“No longer alive,” you told him. “Otherwise I would have confronted him. I do suspect that he never recorded this because he was afraid he would be blamed for His Majesty’s death. There’s also the possibility that one of his sons had a hand in this, though your father was unfazed when I told him that I was treating him with opium.”

Hongjoong cracked his neck, an amused look on his face. “One of my uncles then, huh?”

“Just pure speculation, but my bet is on the doctor making a mistake and realising too late,” you told him.

“So, Doctor,” Hongjoong got up and walked ever so slowly around the table, coming to stand right in front of you. “What do you intend to do about this?”

“Well, now I know that the symptoms of this drug wreaking havoc on the body mimic natural symptoms of the disease, so even if the King keeps using this and, well, dies… I can blame it on his poor health.”

“What do you get out of crowning me?” The Prince whispered, bringing his hand up to hold you by the jaw and even though his grip was gentle as he tilted your face up, you could feel the power exuding from him anyway. It didn’t help that he looked absolutely ravishing like this and you could feel the flimsy shreds of self control falling apart by each second-

You needed to remember that you were here, that you were the Master’s spy, that you were doing this for the ultimate goal. To save Wonderland. You could not be distracted by something as mere as feelings.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I only want you to be the King?” You asked. “Is it so hard to believe that someone actually wants you to rule Wonderland with all their heart?”

“That makes no sense-”

“I want you,” you tested, a shiver running down your spine when his gaze darkened. “I want you to let me keep my post and let me make advances in medicine. I want you to fund my research and allow me to expand my network- even in the black market. I want you to cover me if I make a mistake and in return… I’ll be at your service, however you want. I will get rid of anyone you want.”

He could hear the sound of his heart thumping wildly between his ears. He could hear your breath and feel a whisper of it on his wrist. He could see the dangerous gleam in your eyes and he knew that you were a force to be reckoned with. How had he missed it? How did you appear so normal throughout all those years? He only ever suspected you of maybe fancying him because quite a few times, he had caught you watching him with something that resembled fascination, but now he was finding that it might be obsession. 

A tool for him to use as he pleased. Someone who would do whatever he wants.

Though you weren’t sure if what you said was just a lie or you actually meant some part of it, it clearly had an effect on the Prince. 

Hongjoong brought his thumb to caress the skin near your lips, watching you react under his touch. It was clear as day to him that you wanted him in more ways than you were letting on, perhaps more than even you yourself were aware of. He swiped his thumb across your lower lip, watching your mouth part and your gaze expectant.

Hongjoong kept his thumb pressed on your lip as he bent down to meet your eyes, his face inches away from yours. You held your breath, your heart doing little flips that made you want to crawl away from him. He stared at you for a few moments.

“You will do as I say, whenever I say, whatever I want. Is that clear?” He ordered and you nodded. “For now, you will keep administering ruby to keep the King alive. We don’t want his health to deteriorate all of a sudden. I want you to learn the King’s intentions- who he really wants to crown and for what reasons. I’ll only hear what comes out of his mouth, not your silly little speculations. Make him talk.”

“Understood… Your Highness.”

Hongjoong nodded slowly, trailing his finger down your chin and tracing the outline of your jaw, trailing it down the angle of your neck and leaving goosebumps along your skin. He locked eyes with you as if to dare you to stop him but you only sat still, though he could swear you bent back just a fraction to allow him better access. He played with the pearls on your neck for a moment, trailing his finger down the middle of your chest until they met your collar, dangerously close to the hollow between your breasts.

With a teasing look and a smirk on his lips, he pressed at that spot before backing away. You took a moment to calm down before you shut the registers and put them back on the shelves, agreeing to meet here the night after tomorrow again. As soon as you were in the darkness and comfort of your room, you slumped down on the bed, exhaling.

You could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin. You could still feel his eyes boring into you. You could still feel the warmth of his breath caress your face.

And while you were overwhelmed with desire, there were more important matters at hand-

Finding out what the King wanted. You would make him talk and deliver the information to the Prince to prove your loyalty and service to him.

You could only hope he would really look at you and believe what you told him. That was necessary for your plan to actually work. You hoped he would think that all you wanted was to excel as a royal physician and medical researcher. You hoped he would understand that only he possessed the power to make that happen. And when he would let his guard down, that would be when you would strike. 

You picked the mattress to move one of the bed planks, revealing a box that contained paper and ink. Using the clear ink on the sandy paper with a bluebird on the corner, you began to write the first message after months of silence.

“The arrow has escaped the bow and is flying towards the target, slowly but surely. The wielder should start preparing for the aftermath.”

—------------------------------------

“How are you feeling, Your Majesty?” You asked, hand around his wrist to check his pulse, noting down the readings as he shuffled.

“Fine for the most part, but I feel lightheaded at times.”

“No changes in his diet?” You asked the nurse assigned to the King and she shook her head no. “Must be the drug then. Is it bearable?”

“For now,” the King confirmed, his eyes darting towards where his son stood at the corner of the room with his arms folded and a deadpan stare. The King shifted uncomfortably yet again and you shot a glare at the Prince which he caught, huffing and looking elsewhere. “Does he have to be present here?”

“Does he make you uncomfortable?” You asked nonchalantly, comparing your readings with the last few days and noticing a pattern. “He’s worried about your health.”

The King grunted. “As if.”

“More worried than your brothers you adore so much,” the Prince mocked. “I don’t see them inquiring about your health. At all.”

“Aren’t you just waiting to hear bad news?” The King asked and when Hongjoong was about to retort, you raised your hand in the air.

“I would appreciate it if you don’t rile him up, Prince Hongjoong,” you said politely. “Your Majesty, you should avoid stressing about your health so much. Have you been taking your morning walks?”

The nurse cleared her throat and you looked at her. “He’s missed two days in a row.”

You turned to look at the King who appeared guilty. “I’m feeling sluggish lately. It’s harder to get up in the morning.”

You noted that- could this be ruby’s doing? Shutting your register, you got up and talked to the nurse while the father and son argued a bit more about the Prince’s unusual presence and the King’s unusual love for his brothers. When you took your leave, the Prince accompanied you all the way to the main door and just when you were about to leave, he looked around to make sure no one was within earshot.

“I thought I asked you to keep the King healthy-”

You clicked your tongue and grabbed his wrist to pull him to your right so the nurse who just exited the King’s room wouldn’t notice the look on the Prince’s face. “Can you be more obvious? We shouldn’t be talking about this here- and it’s not my doing, by the way.”

The Prince looked at you with scepticism and before he could snatch his wrist from your grip, you let go of it yourself. You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching as he formed a response. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” the Prince promised almost threateningly and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Tonight. Library. Mingi will accompany you.”

You huffed in response, glancing at his aide who came to inspect what the noise was about. Bowing mockingly, you exited the chamber and made way towards your room near the medical chamber. 

You were about to make a turn to the left when you bumped into a guard who was carrying some documents and you apologised, squatting down to pick up the pages that he dropped. While collecting them and exchanging more apologies, you thought you spotted a familiar stamp but the guard was immediately on his way after thanking you. You took only two steps before you realised-

It was the bluebird stamp.

You kept walking, the Master’s bitter tone ringing in your ears reminding you to keep moving forwards and remain unfazed. It took a lot of effort to keep a straight face because after months of radio silence, you finally saw a sign that the bluebirds were here. They were in the castle and they had not abandoned you.

However, when you picked your mattress to take out the box and saw a letter inside, the contents of the letter made sweat ooze out of your pores even when you felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on you. You were once again reminded that the bluebirds were a very extensive network with eyes and ears everywhere.

But how did they know what happened inside the private library? You and Hongjoong were the only ones present. The short message in the letter seemed to suggest as if they had taken a peek inside your heart at your most vulnerable moment.

“Do not lose sight of the real target. Do not get distracted. Pleasure is temporary. Freedom can be eternal.”

The two hours that you waited for the Prince’s aide to knock on the door had to be the longest of your life. You simply sat on the chair biting your nails unceremoniously as you tried to figure out just who in the castle or the Prince’s closest companions could be the part of the rebel group that was the core of your identity.

The bluebirds, trained by one Master whose face had always been hidden behind a mask, whose voice was a command itself. Your parents were a part of that group, but you could hardly call them parents because as soon as you were able to walk on your own and think without guidance, your training started. You learned the art of disguise, trickery and manipulation. You learned science and medicine until you started achieving things on your own. You were no one special, though. You were just another spy who was in the castle, disguised as someone of importance. Any doubts about you being alone in the castle were gone now. 

You were wondering if the Prince was aware of the existence of your group- it was a secret underground rebel group but it had been active for decades now. The bluebirds were slowly but surely infiltrating the government bodies and were directly or indirectly responsible for some of the major policies that influenced the kingdom. 

When the knock sounded on the door, you sighed in relief and got up to open the door to Mingi and you greeted him with a nod, grabbing your keys and locking the room behind you. He accompanied you to the royal chamber in silence until you were almost there and he cleared his throat. 

“Is there a reason you have to access the private library so often?”

You narrowed your eyes purposely as he glanced at you. “Ask your prince? He doesn’t have to be present- I’m just looking for something that can help me with the King’s treatment.”

“Are you sure you’ll find that there?” He asked, taking a turn towards the corridor that led to the library. “I mean… have you looked in the main library?”

“Yes, and yes,” you said. “I’ve gone through everything before asking the Prince for permission to access the private library.”

“If you’re looking for medical related stuff, you should look for the archives in the public library here in the Capital too,” Mingi suggested and you perked up at that. “Anything of importance that is no longer in the castle can be found there.”

“If it is of importance, why would it be no longer in the castle?” You wondered.

“Rebels used to raid libraries about twenty years ago, if you remember your history,” Mingi answered. “Whatever was recovered went to the public library instead of back here.”

Now that was something you had not been aware of. If important archives and documents had been stolen, why were they at the public library instead of at the castle? And more importantly, was it the bluebirds that carried out these attacks? If it was the bluebirds, why had no one told you? You could have visited the public library with ease any time.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’ll make sure to visit the public library the next time I step out of the castle.”

Mingi smiled in response and extracted a key out of his pocket, unlocking the wooden carved door that opened to the library. “The Prince is inside. I’ll be on my way then.”

You nodded and stepped inside the dark room, letting the aide shut the door behind him as he left. You walked towards the window which was the only source of light- did the Prince not bother lighting any candles while he was inside-

There was a sole candle on the table where you had sat a few nights ago with Hongjoong when you checked the family tree. Hongjoong was nowhere to be found though, so you started walking past the shelves, looking to spot the man-

And trying your hardest to swallow a scream when he appeared out of nowhere, though he was quick to grab your arms to avoid a collision.

“Easy there,” he said, sounding amused. Probably because you were positive all the colour left your face. 

Well, if it had, it sure returned with a flush when you noticed how close you were to the Prince and how human he looked in the moonlight now that he wasn’t wearing his permanent scowl and his hair wasn’t styled to perfection. The tendrils falling on his forehead over his eyes created a soft look. It wasn’t always that the Prince looked anything less than menacing so you got a good look at him before wriggling away.

“Sorry, but you could have lit a few more candles. It’s pretty dark here.”

“We avoid candles. Don’t want to risk a fire, which is why it’s usually optimal to access this room when the sun is out.”

“Can’t go around scheming during the day though, can we?” You said casually though the comment made the Prince chuckle darkly. It looked like he was finally coming to terms with you- and himself. 

“Doesn’t seem like the daytime would be a hindrance for you,” the Prince put his hands in the pockets of the black slacks he was wearing. “Did you switch the drug? Why is the King feeling off?”

“I need to research a bit more to answer that,” you folded your arms. “I don’t control the way his body reacts to the drug. If it seems like ruby will deteriorate his health at a rapid pace, I might have to stop administering that drug to him.”

“Lower the dose then,” he ordered. “Or do you have a better alternative?”

“A better alternative to what?” You dared to ask, earning an annoyed look. “Do you want the King alive and healthy for as long as possible?”

Hongjoong cocked his head- did you really want to hear it from his mouth?

“Or… do you want his health to decline such that it would seem natural?” You scoffed at the way he glared at you. “Surely, you must have made up your mind by now.”

“I asked you to keep the King healthy,” he practically spat. “And I asked you to make him talk.”

“I think he dislikes your presence a little too much, Prince,” you snickered. “I actually slipped a few drops of verita tonight. A harmless little thing, only makes you a bit hazy so that you start saying things you wouldn’t otherwise. And oh, the only thing he had to say was that you’re just waiting for him to die.”

“Yeah, well, that is the sad truth,” he said mockingly, glancing towards the window. “He won’t talk in front of me. I suspected that.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me then,” you said, moving past him to go to the last shelf which contained the rest of the medical records of the royal family that you hadn’t had the chance to access yet. “I do think he’s aware that he doesn’t have much time. Isn’t the Duke of Neverland visiting soon?”

“Next week, yes. Bet he’ll be over the clouds to see my father dying especially when he learns that he’s in his good graces.”

“Well… that’s how I’m here to help,” you glanced at him. “I was thinking… your father was the crown prince, which means he probably didn’t visit your grandfather much when he was ill. He must have been too busy trying to keep the kingdom stable and running.”

“That’s right,” Hongjoong agreed. “I recall my grandfather complaining how he never made time for him.”

“And it’s a known fact that the Duke of Neverland tried to snatch the title of crown prince. Tried to coerce his father. Didn’t work, did it?”

“He was let off with a warning, and now he’s after me.”

“He must have visited your grandfather a lot then,” you brought the medical register that you had checked a few nights ago back to the table. “The royal physician who treated your grandfather is no longer alive, but the Duke of Neverland must know something about the treatment. You have to keep an eye on him and watch his reaction carefully when it is revealed that ruby is being used to treat the King.”

Hongjoong frowned. “Do you suspect that he had something to do with it?”

“I do,” you admitted. “Especially because he’s been coveting your title. He might have meddled with the late King’s treatment- it’s just an assumption for now, but it is strange how the late King suddenly passed away.”

The Prince nodded slowly and you could see that he was trying to connect the dots. You cleared your throat, catching his attention.

“I also plan to visit the public library in the city soon. Your aide Mingi told me that I may find something of importance there.”

Hongjoong wasn’t surprised to hear that so you figured they must have discussed something. “He’ll accompany you on that visit.”

“Alright,” you said, getting up to find more books and records on the royal bloodline’s medical history. 

Time passed by quickly even though you found little to nothing of interest, but it looked like the seed of doubt had been planted because the Prince seemed to be deep in thought as he kept glancing at the page you had pointed to- the word ‘opium’ scratched over and over as if someone had tried to erase the evidence of it. You smiled to yourself- the plan seemed to be working.

Though you kept one eye on the Prince, you became distracted by a book on alchemy that seemed to be annotated by the royal physician during the time of the King’s grandfather. You flipped through the pages, mouth parted in surprise and awe at the dedication and effort of the royal physician- he seemed to have created the blueprint for most of the drugs that were now commonly supplied throughout Wonderland, and that was a remarkable feat.

You almost didn’t hear the Prince until he was right behind you and you jumped a little when he rested a hand on your shoulder to let him take a peek at what you were reading. When he noticed the surprise on your face, he smirked.

“What’s got you so busy and immersed that you didn’t notice my presence?”

“Sorry, uh,” you collected yourself, sliding away just a fraction but he seemed to have caught that- he caught everything. “Notes from the royal physician during your great grandfather’s time. He’s a figure we doctors look up to a lot.”

Hongjoong flipped through the pages, book still in your hand. “Have you always wanted to become a doctor?”

A question so simple yet you had never been asked before. Your brows rose momentarily as you processed the question, trying not to lose yourself in the spiral of what the real answer was- that no. You never wanted to become a doctor. It was just something you taught yourself to love- or something you pretend to love so you don’t forget why you’re here-

“Is it such a difficult question to answer?” He shrugged, taking the book from you so you would have no choice but to focus on him.

“I guess I just learned to love it when I found myself in this field,” you said. Probably the first honest thing you had shared with the Prince. “Have you always wanted to be the crown prince?”

Hongjoong laughed at that, caught by surprise at your sudden question and you found yourself joining- you had never heard the Crown Prince laugh like that- like a kid, unguarded. The Prince seemed to realise that too, though that didn’t stop him. You supposed that since it was only the two of you within the privacy of these four walls, he felt more at ease. And though the rational part in you told you that it was good that he was letting his guard down, your heart ached for some reason.

“I guess I learned to love it too?” He shrugged. “At some point, it becomes something you have to do rather than something you want to do.”

You nodded- you knew that all too well. “You’re doing this for the kingdom.”

“For the people,” he said. “The King hasn’t been making the best decisions regarding the kingdom ever since he got sick. The people- I know they aren’t fond of me, but they do not know how to run this kingdom. They think resuming trade with the bordering nations like the King plans to will help stabilise our economy.”

“I mean… a common man would think that you would save a lot from land routes instead of the sea routes.”

“But the common man is not aware that the King plans to impose more taxes and tariffs on his people,” Hongjoong told you as if letting you in on a secret- it was, except you were already aware. “And I think even if they find out, they will overlook that. In the long run, it will only create more problems and smuggling will become rampant. We barely managed to control that when we were recovering from the late King’s death.”

“But do you really care about the people?” You dared to question, relaxing when Hongjoong only passed you an amused look. “Or is it just because you want to prove something to your father and uncles?”

“Can’t it be a little bit of both?” He leaned against the shelf. “The people…” Hongjoong shook his head. “They say it’s only the people who suffer from the decisions we make. Is that really true though? Because I think they’re living a pretty pleasant life without worrying about making decisions of such magnitudes.”

“I guess the royal class suffers in their own way,” you scoffed. “Insomnia.”

“Insomnia can’t be classified as suffering anymore. It’s more of a bonus.”

You smiled at that- that was true. There wasn’t a royal who didn’t suffer from lack of sleep- or lack of good sleep. “Is there something that helps you sleep better at night? Apart from the prescriptions?”

“Overworking,” Hongjoong spread his arms to prove what he was doing right now instead of resting. “And… well. Other activities.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you love to hear about that,” Hongjoong smiled suggestively and you were lost for a second before you almost choked, looking away to keep the flush creeping on your cheeks at bay. “Want to help me with that? Be my personal nurse?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, snatching the book from him and putting it back on the shelf, his dark chuckle echoing inside you. He leaned forward right at the moment that you were turning in his direction, the both of you surprised when you found your faces inches away from each other- you could almost see the flecks of brown in his dark orbs even in the faint moonlight.

Almost hastily, you took one step back at the same moment that he leaned forward, his eyes locked with yours. You raised a brow, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. The air was thick with tension, taking the form of something almost electric and tangible- you were sure if you mimicked his movements and leaned forward, you would combust.

The Prince slipped his tongue between his teeth in contemplation and your gaze fell there- a mistake, because you were so, so tempted to get a taste of those plush lips. If it wasn’t obvious to Hongjoong, you were curling in on yourself with each passing second as your heart and mind clashed with one another violently inside of you-

“Didn’t peg you as the shy type,” the Prince commented, barely a whisper.

“I’m not shy,” you retorted. “I’m just trying to find an answer as to why you keep crowding my personal space.”

“Ah, is that how it is now?” Hongjoong tsk-ed in disappointment, standing straight now. “Thought you liked it when I did that.”

You did. You couldn’t tell him that not because he couldn’t know, but because you were sure he would do something about it and that couldn’t end well for you.

“Looks like you’ll be up all night tonight then,” you scoffed, making the Prince laugh again. “I’ll be taking my leave now. Unlike you, I’m not a royal so I cannot sleep in or ditch my duties. Goodnight, Prince.”

Hongjoong only shook his head in amusement as he watched your figure disappear. The smile fell when you left and he went back to sit on the sofa, watching the moon from the window.

He was pretty sure you had an ulterior motive under the pretence that you were unquestionably loyal to him. There was no such thing as loyalty- a person was faithful as long as they were satisfied. Hongjoong knew that very well, so he wondered just what you were going to get out of killing the King and crowning him. It didn’t look like you wanted to sit on the throne with him, but he didn’t dismiss the possibility- you could simply just be very good at hiding your feelings.

But then… a smirk started creeping on Hongjoong’s lips as he recalled the way he got you flustered. It wasn’t his presence that got you all tense- it was when he flirted, that was clear to him now. However, you were putting up quite a fight-

And Hongjoong wasn’t one to back away from a fight. Plus… he really wanted to shut you up once. 

And if getting in your good graces- if it could be called that- would get him some answers then he was going to make this enjoyable. 

He just had to keep his guard up. And that wasn’t so hard, was it?

—--------------------------

It was becoming harder with each passing day to keep your guard up when you were with the Prince.

He was just as stubborn and hot-headed as ever, which was already something you had to deal with. He was especially jumpy since the Duke of Neverland seemed to have been attacked by a ‘rebel group’ on his way to the castle and had delayed his trip by a few days. The King was worrying too much about his brother and that annoyed the Crown Prince to bits. His frustration was obvious and everyone around him was having to deal with the aftermath. 

And because he was so frustrated, he couldn’t sleep which meant that whenever you met up in the private library- not to read anymore but to talk and plan- he acted… different. You wondered if it was the lack of sleep that was making him lightheaded and outright flirtatious but it seemed to be just… Hongjoong being Hongjoong. And you weren’t sure how long you could keep joking around like this- turning him down by joking was what you had been doing actually.

It was the little things- he would sit in front of you only to overwhelm you with his stare, his eyes scanning you in a different manner than usual. He would purposely play with the edge of your skirt or if he was feeling a little daring, with your fingers while you chatted about medical history or politics. You tried your best to ignore it, especially since there was an obvious reason that you could not involve yourself with the Prince. 

But with each passing day and each passing moment spent by the Prince’s side, you were wondering if it would be too bad to have just a little fun while you carried out your plan. And if you looked at the bigger picture, it could help you carry out your plan and perhaps benefit you in ways you hadn’t ever considered before.

It would also be a slap on the Master’s face. The Master who had overseen your training and told you that all you were was just a piece in the puzzle he was playing. In your whole life, even at the castle, whenever you were about to make a decision of your own, he would send a sign and hold your invisible reins back- just like when you saw one of the guards with the bluebird stamp. It was always a warning that came out of the Master’s mouth and never a word of encouragement or affirmation that you were on the right path and that your efforts were commendable.

You had dedicated your whole life to the cause of the bluebirds- to end the monarchy, once and for all. It had been attempted in the past but never successfully, and you supposed it was because the previous rulers had been wise enough to dismiss internal conflict so they could focus on the external threats from the bluebirds. However, after decades, there was finally enough internal conflict to narrow the royals’ visions. They would not see it coming. There were many key players in this plan, in the light and in the shadows- but you were aware that you were the wild card of this game.

And if you succeeded, which you were bound to from the looks of it so far, the monarchy would end- there would be no one of royal blood left to rule, and before someone else could take over, the other players would make sure that the system of monarchy would collapse and democracy would be established. Once that was done, the people would finally have a taste of true freedom. It was going to be a very tragic end for the royal bloodline, and if you were going to play a part in it…

Would it be too wrong to have some fun and have him think that you actually liked him? Though if you started pondering on the matter, you didn’t have an answer- you were confused. But it was becoming harder to reject his subtle advances and you weren’t sure how long you could hold your fort, so why not let him think he had the upper hand?

“You’re staring, sweetheart.”

It didn’t help when he called you sweetheart or kitten or something equally stupid (and something that strangely tugged at your heartstrings). You quite liked hearing such terms from his mouth and you wanted to hear him say a lot more-

“Drooling, now.”

“There’s just a strange insect near your ear-”

The terrified face the Prince made as he swatted wildly near both his ears made you choke down your laugh but when he finally realised you were joking, you laughed wholeheartedly, clapping your hands in disbelief while Hongjoong recovered from the surprise and embarrassment.

“Do you have a death wish?” He growled, shaking his head and you wiped the tears in your eyes, noticing that he was almost smiling now.

“Do you have a death wish?” You countered. “I wasn’t staring, neither was I drooling. I just… zoned out.”

“You were staring,” he insisted. “But I don’t blame you. I’m quite a sight for sore eyes, am I not?”

“Totally,” you muttered, not daring to fuel him further lest he figure you out. You set the vials in your hands aside, getting up to grab the washcloth and clean the counter. “If you’re going to make my lab your lounge, I must let you know that I’m not responsible if I ‘accidentally’ spill a chemical on you.”

“Yeah, this might not be the best place to get comfortable,” he sent you a suggestive look. “There are tons of abandoned rooms in the castle.”

“And you want me to give you company?” you wiped at a stubborn blue mark on the counter near the Prince’s hand. “Because we haven’t been doing anything, just coexisting in the same space. Sounds like someone has been lonely.”

When he didn’t respond, you glanced at him to find his expressions guarded. It strangely reminded you of yourself and you continued. “It’s alright. I’m not one to say, though I must admit I thought you had more people who you met eye to eye with.”

“Well, you’re the only one who knows my wicked intentions,” he scoffed. “I might have to get rid of you for that.”

“No wonder you have no friends,” you made a face, taking off your apron and going to wash your hands in the sink. “I thought you appreciated that I was willing to kill for you.”

“You know, I really don’t get it,” Hongjoong got up, walking towards the other counter where you were drying your hands. “You sound like you’ve killed people. Or you think too highly of yourself.”

“Well… we both have blood on our hands, whether we’ve killed or not,” you said and he realised that was true. “A lot of people have died by my hands, just like they have by yours.”

Hongjoong didn’t need to know that you had actually poisoned and killed whoever came close to discovering the identity of the bluebirds. He would only assume you meant that about your sick patients, and that was fine.

“Does it keep you up at night?” He asked teasingly.

“Not really,” you grinned. “It’s not what keeps you up either.”

Hongjoong shook his head in disbelief and wonder, his hand going to your face almost naturally to tuck the stray hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to sound so happy about it, princess, just because you don’t have to pretend to be sad about it in front of me.”

Princess. 

How could he so casually call you princess and invoke such a powerful desire in you to be the owner of that title? To have the Prince repeatedly call you that? 

“Do you go around calling anyone princess?” You asked, sounding out of breath and Hongjoong raised his brow- he didn’t realise that it would have such an effect on you, but then again-

He had never called anyone princess, not even jokingly.

“Do you like that?” He asked, his thumb caressing your cheek as his hand cupped your face. “Do you like being called princess?”

“It’s you who said it, Prince.” you answered.

Hongjoong cocked his head in thought- were you after the title then, or had you simply never been called something affectionate? Because he did notice how you reacted every time he called you something as simple as sweetheart, or love- even when it was derogatory. He wished he could peek inside your mind and see what you were thinking-

He saw how your gaze darkened when you gently grabbed his wrist to draw his hand away from his face just a fraction, only to peck his palm- your lips felt like the brush of a feather against his skin but that only fueled his selfish desire to get a taste of them for himself.

“Do not ever call me a princess again,” you warned in a low voice, surprising him. “Do not call me anything that you don’t mean. I’ll take my leave first. Goodnight, Your Highness.”

Before you could fully turn away from him, he caught your wrist and tugged you towards him, making your body collide with his lightly. The two of you were now flush against each other, your joined hands in the air as he scanned your face, the desire in your eyes so obvious that it was palpable. 

And he was pretty sure he was very obvious too- he just couldn’t help it. He was beyond confused and it irked him to no end and he needed to find the answer. He was sure you were his answer-

You shook your head as if that could help your situation but you gave up and rested your forehead against his shoulder, feeling his body stiffen for just a second before he relaxed. He let go of your wrist only to place his hands on the curve of your hips while you fisted the material of his shirt in your hands-

Oh, you wanted to have a little fun? This was it, and it scared you to no end. You only took a few moments to inhale and memorise the musky notes of his scent before you drew back and made way to the exit without meeting eyes with him.

You couldn’t face him when you weren’t sure if you just wanted to play with him, use him or be with him.

—----------------------------

“If that black fake dye wasn’t obvious, your jumpiness is giving you away,” you commented when you spotted Hongjoong casting a wary glance at the poor teen who happened to cross your path. “You can take off the cloak. It’s just a library.”

“If anyone recognises me here, it could get dangerous,” he muttered.

“It’s literally the library, relax,” you said, looking at Mingi for help but he seemed to be enjoying your bickering and raised his hands in surrender. “You’re making it harder for me to concentrate. Mingi, can you accompany the Prince to the kids’ section please?”

“Don’t call me the Prince here- hey!” Hongjoong scowled, making Mingi stifle another snicker. “I’m not bothering you, okay? Read what you have to, I’m just standing here.”

“I mean… you are making it a bit obvious,” Mingi started but shut up when the Prince shot him a dirty look. “Alright, let’s give the doctor some space so we can save some time. We don’t have to go to the kids’ section.”

You groaned in relief, silently thanking Mingi who was originally going to be your only companion on this trip to the library. It looked like the Prince’s aide had gotten used to whatever was going on with you two, or simply didn’t care enough to question it. Perhaps he didn’t dare to, which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. But you still had no idea why the Prince was here- did he have so much free time or was he shirking his duties? Why did the Prince’s aide not tell him this was a bad idea?

Whatever it was, you took your sweet time exploring everything on the royals- not just the medical related knowledge you were here for, but political history and uprisings, specifically. You were aware that things could take a very wrong turn and you wanted to be prepared for everything. You didn’t want to be limited only by the knowledge the Master had allowed you to gain. 

So when about two hours later you went to find Hongjoong and Mingi, you almost panicked when you couldn’t spot them anywhere- but while frantically searching for them you heard low, oddly familiar giggles. You narrowed your eyes as you took two turns to find the Prince and his aide sitting on the floor side by side, pointing at crude images in the comic books-

In the kids’ section.

You cleared your throat, but they only spared you a glance, snickering at something funny they read but remaining unmoving. 

“Your Royal Highness,” you sighed. “It’s getting dark. We should go back to the castle.”

“Let me just finish this chapter,” Hongjoong wiped a fake tear from his eye while Mingi doubled over with laughter over something he read. You folded your arms, looking at them in utter disbelief.

This was the Prince you were supposed to put on the throne? This was the man the Master wanted you to kill?

You smiled to yourself at the sight of the two- you weren’t sure the Prince would get to have such carefree moments in the future, so you let them take their time, making a mental note of whatever they were reading. When they finished the chapter, they got up and got back to being the stuck-up Prince and guarded aide duo, steering you towards the exit and into the carriage to go back to the castle.

The ride was mostly silent, all of you sorting your thoughts out. You agreed to meet up later tonight at one of the abandoned rooms that had become your rendezvous point now. For now, the Prince sneaked back to his room through one of the secret routes so no one would question why he was out looking like that with the royal physician, of all the people.

You were glad that you were busy for the rest of the evening with lab work and assisting the other doctors in the infirmary. You went to the royal chamber later at night for the routine checkup on the King, administering the lower ruby dose mixed with a little verita this time. There were some answers you needed, so you dismissed the nurse, saying she could take a breather while you talked to the King.

“Hongjoong has been diligent lately. It’s strange,” the King found himself pondering out loud.

“Has he not always been diligent?” You asked- the Prince was known to be too hardworking.

“It’s like he almost means it now,” the King admitted. “It makes me rethink if I’ve been too harsh on him.”

“Or maybe he’s just preparing to take over more of your duties,” you carefully threw in the suggestion. “You haven’t been attending some of the meetings.”

“Could be,” he laughed, though it didn’t sound happy. “Woobin is arriving next week- he could be preparing himself. They’re always clashing with each other whenever they’re in the same room.”

“Hmm… about that,” you began, knowing that the verita was working now. “What do you think about the attack on His Highness Woobin?”

“What is there to think?” The old man frowned. “The Duke of Neverland has enemies just like all of us.”

“I was just wondering if you should look into which rebel group specifically planned the attack. It could be that insiders shared information and his travel route.”

The King thought for a moment, scratching the grey stubble on his face in thought. “You’re right. It’s either his men or one of ours.”

“You know, I went to the city today,” you told him while rubbing the pressure points on his hand. “And I heard rumours- people are speculating the Prince might have had a hand in the Duke’s attack. It’s not a secret that you favour the Duke and might pass the hierarchy to him- the public does prefer your brother over your son.”

“Ah…” the old man frowned in thought. “Could this be the case?”

“They’re only rumours,” you shrugged. “Nothing to worry about, really.”

But you had planted the seeds of worry and doubt in the King, strengthening his likening for the Duke. Once he would confront Hongjoong and demand answers or a confession to something he didn’t do, the Prince’s hatred for his father and uncles would amplify.

And when that would happen, you would be there for the Prince. You would act as his sword when he would demand it, and shield him when he would need it. You would do all of that before turning at him.

But for now… 

“He really thinks I’m not performing my duties properly?”

“You don’t have to sound so hurt- it’s not like he knows how hard you work,” you consoled the Prince. “He would think you’re neglecting your duties but he’s coped up in his room all day. He’s just being bitter.”

Hongjoong folded his arms and you shook your head at the way he was sulking, his frown deepening with each passing second. “He’s never going to acknowledge me.”

“You don’t have to get acknowledged by him. You’re the rightful owner of the crown. Neither the King nor his brothers should try to take that away from you.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I’m tempted to give up too,” he confessed and your eyes widened in surprise. He looked away from you, the faint hues of the candlelight casting shadows at the cuts and creases of his face. “I’m driving myself to do something for this kingdom only to be remembered as a tyrant in the history books you love reading so much.”

Even though he had pretended not to care about having such a reputation for the rest of his life, you were a bit thrown off to learn that it was a genuine concern he harboured in his heart. Once again, you found yourself blurring the lines of what was supposed to be the boundary between your facade and the feelings in the deepest recesses of your heart. 

“You don’t have to look at me like that,” he chuckled darkly. “I don’t know why I’m even saying this in the first place.”

“It’s okay to share,” you urged. “No judgement here.”

“Yeah, I might be a bit too honest in your presence,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You know, while we were at the library and Mingi and I were reading those stupid books-”

“You loved those stupid books-”

“Not the point, but I realised something,” Hongjoong sent you a warning glare to not interrupt him again and you sat straighter, crossing your legs that were dangling from the edge of the bed. “I realised that I rarely ever had moments where I was just… Hongjoong. Not the prince, not the crown prince.”

“Just Hongjoong looked a bit silly, I’ll admit.”

Hongjoong only smiled at that. You decided to do something about this- you did not like him seeing so quiet and sentimental. 

“Even the greatest of warriors are called privileged by people who will never know what sacrifices they made so their kids live a better life than they did,” you said. “You may think that you’re alone, but you’re not. You’ve got one loyal supporter right here,” you raised your hand and he let out a short laugh. “You don’t need to convince the world- or even your father- to see your true intentions. Not that they would appreciate it, now that I think about it…”

Hongjoong laughed at that, resting his hand on his chest. “That was a jab.”

“Yeah, well, the world doesn’t need to know you plan to get rid of the King so they can live a better life in the future,” you teased. “They would be appalled to learn that.”

“You should shut your mouth sometimes, darling. You’re too loud,” he warned though he couldn’t keep himself from smiling shamelessly. 

Your eyes twinkled with curiosity and wonder- he really was just like you. You weren’t the most moral person, you knew all too well- the Master had drained the morality out of you, but he- 

He was here, in all his royal glory yet still just as ugly as you inside. He didn’t attempt to hide it, rather wore it like a badge, though only those who really looked at him found who he truly was.

And that was what was so beautiful about him.

“Aren’t you glad to have me?” You teased. “I bet you can’t talk to Mingi about this stuff. Does he know that you’re hiding something monstrous behind that pretty face?”

“His only job is to help me with the royal duties,” he said. “He doesn’t need to know, but… I’m sure he’s caught on. He doesn’t seem to care, though.”

“You should still be cautious.”

“Yeah, I should be, shouldn’t I?” The Prince leaned back on the chair he was sitting on, folding his arms as he cast a suspicious glance at you. “Maybe I should ask Mingi to get rid of you. You know too much.”

“Oh, you want to shut me up so bad,” you rolled your eyes. “But I’m the only one who’ll dirty my hands for you.”

“Why-”

“Talking about dirtying my hands,” you got up and bent down a bit to reach his height, running your fingers through the hair next to his temple and catching the remnants of the black dye on your palm. You showed him. “It’s so noticeable- you should have washed it out properly.”

The Prince didn’t answer, his eyes guarded as he looked up at you though his mouth was parted almost expectantly. You frowned for a moment at the lack of his reaction before you realised-

He liked it. 

You hesitated before curling your hand in his soft platinum hair again, caressing his scalp and then stifling a smirk when you tugged at his hair a bit harshly, making him crane his neck up to look at you, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth as he shut his eyes.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game here, love.”

“Stop me, then,” you challenged, not caring that you were going to risk everything. You positioned one leg on his thigh to lean your weight on him, your other hand going to grip the back of his neck. “I don’t see you complaining, Prince.”

Hongjoong hooked one finger in the pearl necklace that you were always wearing, bringing you closer and you almost lost your balance, a little gasp leaving your mouth when you pressed against his chest for support. Hands still on his neck and in his hair, you tried leaning away but this time, he stilled you with his hands on your waist. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like chemicals, darling,” he breathed, pecking the skin where his lips met your neck. “And roses.”

“You smell like cheap hair dye,” you said, resting your cheek against his head, his body shaking under you as he chuckled. “Don’t ever wear that again.”

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he said and you froze again. He leaned back to scan your face. “Why? You told me to not call you what I didn’t mean.”

“You don’t mean that, though,” you told him, something incredibly sad starting to brew inside you.

“But I’m only ever honest with you,” he pleaded. “Don’t you know that? If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

You sighed at that, wishing you were anywhere else other than his fucking lap so your brain wouldn’t have so much problem functioning, but it looked like for now, you were a lost cause. You caught the wetness from the outer corner of his left eye, wiping it down and smearing the black dye on his face in the process. He let you mark him and, mimicking what you had done the night you had warned him not to call him ‘princess’, he grabbed your palm and kissed it.

That was your last straw. You told yourself that you didn’t care if the Prince was honest or deceiving you- you only cared about one thing- you needed him. You rested your cheek against his, trailing kisses down his temple to his jaw and rubbing the tip of your nose there, making him groan. He squeezed your hips encouragingly and that only prompted you to trail more kisses down his neck. You found one spot and alternated between kissing and sucking, drawing away after a few moments when he shifted under you, grinning at the forming bruise.

You marked the Prince like you owned him. And the thought of that alone was making you lightheaded.

You locked eyes with Hongjoong, seeing red- red for lust. Before you knew it, you both were leaning in, your lips meeting in a flurry as you snaked your hands back in his hair, gripping his head to keep him close as you kissed. He brought your body closer while he kissed you, switching from pecks to open-mouthed kisses when you fully rested on his lap, desire coursing through every cell in your body.

This was it. This was the man the Master had warned you to be wary of- the man who held you possessively yet carefully. The man who tugged at your bottom lip, prompting you to open your mouth so he could explore it with his tongue. The man who kissed you as if he had been starving for it- you didn’t know about him but you sure had. 

You couldn’t bring yourself closer, bodies flush against each other as you made out for what seemed like an eternity before he got up, making you wrap your legs around his waist and then he dumped you on the old, somewhat dusty bed. You didn’t care though. You brought him in too, keeping his core locked to yours with your legs, his hands fumbling to open the buttons of your gown- he might as well have torn them. He ripped the bodice of your gown apart, trailing his lips down your neck to your chest and resting his lips on the skin between your breasts.

“Tired already?” You teased, making him chuckle against your chest. He ran his hands up your waist, tracing the curves of your chest before his palms met the bare skin on your shoulders and then he ran his hands down your arms almost lovingly, your smile changing to a gasp when he gripped your wrists tightly and pinned your arms above your head, almost glaring at you.

“You talk too much, sweetheart.”

“Do I now?” you scoffed, letting him pin your wrists with one hand while the other drew your dress away from your chest to reveal your perked up nipples, the cold making you shiver a bit. He cupped one of your breasts in one hand while kissing and sucking around the other, making your back arch against his body. The way he kissed you was too much- it looked like he intended to devour you. You could feel how turned on he was when he started rocking his body against yours, his hard bulge pressing against your core and making you stifle moans until he purposely pressed harder, finally earning a loud one from you.

“That’s what you’ve been wanting all this time, haven’t you?” Hongjoong whispered in your ear, nibbling at your earlobe and making you squirm. “Only wanting to get in my good graces to get fucked by me.”

“Yeah, well, if I had known this was going to happen,” you said, out of breath. “I would have done something sooner.”

He chuckled at that, pressing a sweet kiss to your mouth and drawing back, looking you in the eyes before kissing you deeper. He let you take off his shirt, discarding it on the floor. He let you run your hands on his bare upper body repeatedly, let you help him take off your dress and his pants until you were both left in just your undergarments. He let you take control for just a while when you got on top of him, settling on his lap and admiring his physique. 

His hands rested on your hips, playing with the waistband of your panties, tempted to do something about that too, but for now, he watched you watch him with desire in your eyes. He was surprised to find you so needy yet each touch felt controlled, almost calculated. He didn’t care though- it was already pleasurable enough to drive him insane. He had never let anyone take control of the pace like you did, so he was looking forward to what you were going to do with him.

And he was glad that he let you- you wrapped your hand around his neck experimentally before you bent down to kiss him, loving the way his kisses now became restrained as you controlled his air intake. You swallowed his moans in your kisses, not noticing how tightly he was squeezing your hips until he spanked you once, making you laugh as you drew back.

“Do you have a death wish?” He asked, voice raspy.

“Maybe?” You pecked his cheek.

That was enough- he flipped your bodies to get on top of you, shaking his head before trailing kisses down your chest and then looking at you, watching your expressions when he brought his hand between your legs and brushed one finger against the wet patch on your panties.

“Soaked already, and we’ve just begun.”

“Just begun?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry though the thought of what was next sent a new wave of arousal through your body. Hongjoong snickered at your reaction, wasting no time to pull your panties down, licking his lips at the sight of your drenched core. You kicked him away lightly before taking off your panties and he ran his hands up your thighs-

Pausing when he felt marred skin on his palm and cold washed over you when you realised that he hadn’t noticed the small marks and scars that littered through your body earlier in the faint light- but now, his eyes stopped at each one that he detected.

“Are you going to explain this?”

“Rough childhood,” you muttered- not the entire truth, but close. “Most of these are from how reckless I was, though. Nothing to worry about.”

Hongjoong passed you a look that said that he didn’t buy it, but he didn’t probe. Instead, he kissed every mark and every scar that he found on your thighs before spreading your legs and circling your clit with his thumb, now sporting a devilish smile. You bit your lips- if the emotions from him treating you so tenderly were too much just now, this was a lot. It felt more intimate and personal than anything you had ever experienced. 

“Look at you, y/n,” he called your name- a rare occurrence. “Look at you.”

Before you could respond, he sank one finger inside you quite easily, groaning at how tightly your walls hugged him. You shut your eyes, back arching in pleasure when he curled it inside and slipped another finger- he really did intend to fuck you, and you were going to take it.

“Good girl,” he muttered, meeting your mouth in a wet kiss. You tried to clench your thighs, overwhelmed by the pleasure you got from his fingers curling and opening inside you but he locked your thighs to the bed with his knees, making out with you while his fingers fucked you. Your breathing got unsteady and he knew you were approaching your orgasm which was when he let your legs free, your hips moving of their own accord, rocking against his palm.

“God, you’re insane,” he growled in your ear, slipping his fingers out of you and you almost sobbed at the lack of them inside you, though when he watched his soaked fingers in amusement and licked them to get a taste, you felt shivers in your entire body. He hummed in approval.

“Do something,” you begged but he laughed mockingly. When you shot him a glare, he nodded slowly.

“Whatever you say…” he brought his mouth so close to your core that his lips brushed your aching clit. “Princess.”

Before you could react, he grabbed your thighs to keep them apart, licking a stripe up your wet folds and circling his tongue around your clit. You saw stars, your orgasm fastly approaching once again and all he had to do was dive his tongue inside you and press his thumb on your clit before your orgasm came like a crash, making you want to curl in on yourself but you couldn’t even do that because he restrained you, so you only writhed in his hold in pleasure while he made out with your sopping wet cunt.

“Too much,” you tried to stop him. “Let me breathe, Prince.”

“Oh, I’m not done with you,” he told you almost casually. “You have yet to have me inside you.”

“Oh, god,” you breathed. “Please.”

He snickered at that. “Such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” you looked at him. “Only for you… my King.”

“Oh, no, no,” he shook his head repeatedly. “You did not just say that.”

“King,” you got up to snake your arms around his neck. “My King. You like being called that?”

He did- it was obvious because he crashed his lips against yours, passionately kissing you and drawing back only to take off his undergarment, not even giving you a moment to appreciate the sight before pushing you down and sinking his throbbing cock inside you, though he was gracious enough to be slow with it so you could adjust. Once he was fully inside you, he remained there unmoving, pulling you up by your shoulders to resume your original position when you kissed him. 

You sat on top of him, whispering the title he craved so badly again and again as you exchanged deep, passionate kisses. He called you princess, called you his queen and you returned the favour. His cock twitched inside you and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he pushed you back on the bed and started thrusting into you, your breaths mingling as your bodies rocked against each other. You told him that you were on contraceptives and he was free to mark your walls if he wanted to, and he bit your shoulder in answer, squeezing your nipples as his motions became unsteady and he jerked wildly against you, his warm cum spreading inside you. 

You kept him close, keeping him going and he thrust through his orgasm until you came as well, burying your face in his chest as both your moans mingled and filled the air in the room. When he finally stilled, he collapsed next to you.

“You plan to kill me, don’t you?” 

For a moment, your heart sank and you wondered if a confession had slipped through your mouth in the heat of the moment, or if he had really managed to peek inside your mind. But when he chuckled, you realised he meant it differently.

“Says you,” you smacked his arm and he brought you closer, kissing your forehead, the both of you unable to meet eyes for a moment as you attempted to conceal the truth and the guilt that accompanied it.

—--------------------------------

The Duke of Neverland- Prince Woobin- arrived two days earlier than schedule, setting off a mild frenzy in the castle as preparations to welcome him fell short, guards’ and soldiers’ rotations shifted, more medical staff got stationed in the infirmary and the kitchen-

Well, the kitchen probably got the worst of it. Though dinner went by smoothly, the staff was overworked and while you were passing by, you overheard a funny conversation about how Prince Woobin’s handsomeness and gentle nature made their efforts worth it.

You supposed you could relate to the sentiment- the Prince wasn’t very old but sure was ageing like fine wine. He was the tallest of them and had strong features just like Hongjoong, though Hongjoong was on the prettier side. The Duke was just as clever as he could be, and he was clearly ambitious especially when it came to the throne and its duties.

And… he intended to let the King know.

“Wonderland is unstable right now, brother,” Prince Woobin insisted. “What the other kingdoms need to see is that our royalty won’t collapse and we’ll stay united and put a strong front.”

There. He was definitely on to something.

“You’re right,” the King nodded, sighing deeply. “I will hold the coronation soon- I’d like it if I can see it happen while I’m alive. I know I’m no longer fit to run this kingdom.” 

He wasn’t, and you had made sure of that. You were just waiting for the right timing. You felt sorry that the King wouldn’t see his last wish come true but you were sure he would watch from above. That was something you were going to believe for his sake.

“I don’t mean that you’re not fit,” Prince Woobin squeezed the King’s arm gently. “But your health is not the best, and it’s better to announce the next in line in your life. I know Hongjoong is your son and very capable of running the kingdom, but I still stand by the fact that he’s…”

The King sent his brother an amused look. “You thought the same about me when I was about to ascend the throne. I didn’t do a bad job, and I’m sure Hongjoong won’t either. He will feel very wronged if I pass the throne to you, and you know that. The crown is rightfully his.”

“Think about the people,” the Prince whispered and then cast a wary glance at you but you pretended you really could hear nothing except the scratching of the pen as you noted tonight’s readings. It was too bad that you were done and couldn’t continue to listen to their conversation anymore. With a bow to the two and a reminder to the King to take his morning walk, you left the room. You didn’t notice the Crown Prince around though you shared a wave with his aide. 

To your surprise- or you supposed you should have gotten used to the sight now- the Prince was lying on his stomach on your bed, reading the same comic book that he had been reading in the public library that day with Mingi. You, for some reason you were still wondering about, had one of your acquaintances in the castle purchase those books and anything related to it when they went to town. You kept these books in your room- it wouldn’t be appropriate if the Crown Prince was caught slacking because he stayed up all night laughing over some silly dialogue in those books.

“While you’re here reading about some fourteen year olds fighting over a girl, your uncle is trying to coax the King into passing the throne to him.”

“Nothing new,” Hongjoong muttered, not looking away from the book. “I’ll be having a meeting with him before the ball. What we’ll do next depends on his answer.”

You settled your bag on the chair and went to the vanity to take off your necklace and rings. “Are you going to ask him?”

“No point beating around the bush, but it will be in the presence of my father and others,” Hongjoong looked up momentarily, meeting your eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “If he admits he wants to get crowned, I’ll have to prove that he’s not fit for it.”

“How?” You turned to look at him.

“How do you think?” He asked, “I’m curious to learn how you would handle this.”

“You’re thinking of bringing up the Neverland Accords, aren’t you?” You asked and he nodded, not surprised that you figured it out. “That’s the one thing the Duke regrets doing. The one blemish on his career.”

“It destabilised the western region. By giving in to the demands of the refugees, he gave birth to a group of people with such hatred towards the monarchy that they became rebels. They left their families for the cause. I believe notorious rebel groups like the black pirates or bluebirds who were cooperating with my ancestors became restless because of this agreement.”

So he knew about the bluebirds- everyone who worked in the castle knew for security reasons, but he knew the history and the reasons. A few of them. And he believed that the Neverland Accords, which were about fifteen years old, might be why your rebel group was restless now. You wished you could tell him that it was much older and sinister than that. You wished you could tell him that the Master wasn’t just one person but a network of leaders over time.

And when you caught yourself thinking about this, you almost dropped the comb in your hand. Thankfully, the Prince was too busy reading his book while you tried to form an answer.

“Well… I suppose that might be true,” you managed to say. “I have something we can add to that.”

“And what might that be?”

You let your hair flow freely now, ruffling it a little before you walked towards the bed, the Prince’s hand inviting and prompting you to sit near him. You leaned in and told him your part of the plan in hushed whispers and he looked at you a few times to make sure this wasn’t a joke.

“I told you,” you held his chin in your hand, gaze stuck on his parted lips. “I told you I would kill for you. I came up with something even better instead. No one will suspect the royal physician, Prince.”

“Because you serve the King?”

“Because I serve humanity,” you said, the chuckle that suddenly left your mouth turning into a low laugh and Hongjoong frowned at that- while your plan was nothing short of a genius plan, a quiet voice in his head beckoned him to question how a royal physician- a doctor- was able to scheme like this. 

But for now, your hand casually resting against his thigh as you laughed was distracting. Your red, plump lips were distracting. The books you got him and the key to your room that you gave him were distracting him. The way you accepted who he was- the dark parts and even the sillier ones- that was distracting. 

Hongjoong started sharing that laugh, shaking his head at you. “Now I’m really hoping the Prince begs for the throne.”

“I won’t let anyone look at what’s yours,” you promised him, gladly letting him sit you on his lap, his book long forgotten by his side. “You can count on me.”

“Why are you doing this, y/n?” He wondered, his hands going under your dress to rest on your bare thighs. “What do you get out of this?”

“I told you-”

“Why are you really doing this?” He asked, an almost dangerous glint in his eyes. “Do you want me to crown you too?”

“No,” you sighed. “I couldn’t be less interested in the crown. I’m interested in what you’ll do for my career,” you lied, deciding to add a sprinkle of something honest in there when you said, “And if I can be with you like this without the crown or the heavy title, I’m content. But you must know that I’ve only had this change of heart recently.” 

“You could ask me to crown you and I might do just that,” Hongjoong offered, looking up at you with adoration but you could see that he was calculating behind that facade. 

“Ah, now you’re tempting me,” you smiled slyly. “Does the crown guarantee that you’ll look at me like this every night? That you’ll always fuck me like you actually mean it?”

“I do, though,” he admitted and your smile fell. 

You were aware that Hongjoong only cooperated with you because he obeyed what you told him- to use you as a tool. However… had he caught feelings along the way? Or was this just another of his grand schemes- to have you lower your guard? You were still half sure that he was going to get rid of you once he was crowned, but now he was offering you something that you thought about only in your wildest dreams.

If you grabbed on to this opportunity… if you could be the queen of Wonderland, you would have more power than the Master. You could make better decisions for the bluebirds. You wouldn’t even have to end the monarchy- you could have the Prince agree to your terms. You knew that the Prince wasn’t an unreasonable man and he would understand if you participated in politics actively if you became the queen and he, the king. He would listen to you and probably even give you better advice- he cared for the kingdom to prosper, as did the bluebirds, so…

Did you really have to kill him? You could just rule with him and use him to achieve the bluebirds’ agendas. You could accomplish so, so much-

“Cat got your tongue?” He teased and you shook your head, pushing down the train of thought for now.

“You’re offering a royal physician the burden of the crown. Of course I’m speechless,” you said. “But… heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

“The rubies would suit you, though,” he grinned and you laughed at that. 

“We’ll talk about this when you’re actually the King,” you told him. “For now, I’m content being where I am. I desire power, not the crown. The crown doesn’t necessarily guarantee power.”

“I think you’d make a nice queen, though,” Hongjoong rested his back against the bedpost, getting your hair away from your shoulders to plant sweet kisses along your collarbone. “Though I’d always be worried if you would poison me or use some drug to make me bend to your will.”

“You’re venomous enough as you are,” you scoffed. “All that bitterness inside you will kill you one day. Besides, I don’t need to use a drug to make you get on your knees. You’ve been doing that pretty often anyway.”

Hongjoong gave you a challenging look and you knew what was going to come next. Especially when his hand came to rest around your throat and he used that to get you off his lap and on the floor.

On your knees.

“Let’s change that now, shall we?”

You only smirked in answer, obeying, and while it was pleasurable enough to be on your knees for the future king, the thing he offered you only heightened your drive and made you sure-

That now, even if it was for one day, you wanted the Prince to rule.

And you wanted to be by his side this time.

—-----------------------------

There sure was something in the air tonight. 

Tonight, the Royal Ball took place in the honour of the Duke’s arrival to the castle in the form of a masquerade party. There were many honourable guests from Wonderland and a few from the neighbouring nations as well. The theme was ruby, which you thought was very ironic. You could see red everywhere- in the costumes, in the flowers that decorated the Hall, and in the wine that filled everyone’s glasses. 

The sound of violins and pianos was adorning the air with notes of excitement and vibrancy. The beat of the footsteps of the dancers in the middle of the hall melded along with the music, prompting the audience to synchronise with their claps or their heartbeats. Laughter and chatter flowed freely in the air along with the bubbles from the drinks the waiters and waitresses poured endlessly. The smell of something floral and musky overwhelmed your senses. It was a clash of perfumes, but if you stationed yourself near one of the windows or the tables with refreshment, the earthy smell of the air and the ever-familiar smell of food would wash over a wave of calm over you.

And you kind of needed that right now, because there sure was all of that in the air tonight, but there was also a wave of palpable calculation. Every look and every touch meant something tonight. Every word was said with caution. Every step someone took towards someone else meant something. And sure, this was just how royal events were, but tonight was special.

Tonight, there was an invisible web of deception and lies hovering above the Hall, waiting to trap its prey at the right moment. Though your prey was one- or two, if you were lucky- there could be more who would get caught by the spider. All you had to do was wait.

You watched the spider- the Crown Prince- looking absolutely ravishing in a deep red embellished coat over a black shirt and pants that matched the embroidery on the jacket. Most of his face was concealed by the extravagant black mask that he wore, the red feathers of it creating quite a contrast with his platinum hair that was styled away from his face. He might be unrecognisable at first glance but you could spot him anywhere. He always stood out to you.

Your eyes scanned the crowd again to find the tall Duke who had been attempting to mingle with anyone of importance throughout the whole night. That man was full of energy and the dark part in your heart wished to bathe him in eternal darkness as soon as possible. However, patience was the key. 

You had to keep reminding yourself that- that you had to be patient and that you couldn’t stray from your path no matter how tempting the road might seem. But you couldn’t deny the fact that being physical with Hongjoong and all his offers were making you incredibly selfish and greedy and clouding your judgement. You were confused, and you wished you could meet the Master or even one of the bluebirds to have yourself reminded of why you were doing this, but with each passing day, the final destination started appearing murkier.

For now, though, you just wanted this night to go smoothly. You got busy when some of the royal physicians from the Duke’s court found you, and your chat with them was quite interesting. However, you kept stealing glances at the Prince. He was now on the floor dancing with someone in an overly fluffy bright red dress and it left the sour taste of jealousy in your mouth. You decided to take a chance and joined hands with the first available partner on the dance floor who introduced himself as one of the Duke’s men. 

You rotated around the dance floor and switched partners twice before you found yourself in Hongjoong’s arms. The smirk he had on his lips made your knees feel weak.

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?” He asked, twirling you around once. “I could feel your eyes on me all night long, darling.”

“Can’t resist you,” you teased, bringing your hand closer to his neck than was necessary considering you were dancing. “You’ve been enjoying mingling too much without me.”

“Well, it’s a risky move but since everyone’s so busy dancing, you can get away with it,” Hongjoong told you, glancing at the upper section of the Hall where the King sat with a few of his friends. “However… I can’t wait to take this pretty dress off. You have no idea how irresistible you look tonight, love.”

You smiled at that- you had made a little more effort dressing up tonight than usual. The black silk dress might be plain but it hugged your curves in just the right way. There was a slit in the leg and you were wearing maroon heels, one of them with a matching ribbon that was tied up and around your leg in an intricate pattern, the bow situated right below the slit of the dress. You wore a red mask that covered half your face and extended towards your other eye as well. 

“You look quite charming too,” you said. “Red really is your colour.”

“Red looks like your colour,” the Prince said, pointing his eyes in the direction of the red ruby earrings you were wearing- a gift from the Prince himself for tonight. “I told you- the rubies suit you.”

Before you could respond to that, he squeezed your waist before rotating to switch partners once again, and you were left with those words playing in your head for the rest of the night- but you didn’t have to wait long. As soon as the dances ended and everyone started drinking or leaving for the night, you caught the Prince nodding at you before exiting the Hall and you started following him through the very empty corridors, making sure no one would catch you together.

You saw him go inside one of the abandoned rooms you had used in your early days to meet up and when you went inside and shut the door, Hongjoong was on you in a moment, cupping your masked face and kissing the exposed part of your lips which had to be a struggle because when he drew back, he had your red lipstick smeared across his own lips.

And the sight of that made you physically weak but Hongjoong was quick to hold you with a laugh.

“Already on your knees for me?” He commented and you smacked his chest, taking off your mask and his so you could finally kiss him properly. You broke apart for air and rested your head on his shoulder.

“It’s been a while.”

It had been about five days. The first three days got you anxious enough to want to contact his aide to see if the Prince really was busy or just avoiding you, but then he had the rubies delivered to your room. You wore them that night and looked at your reflection for the longest time, wondering how you would look in a matching crown.

“Yeah, it has been,” Hongjoong said, sweetly kissing your temple and then lifting your face by your chin to kiss you again, his tongue sliding in at the first opportunity. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he pushed you against the door, his hand going to grab your thigh and bringing it up so he could press himself to you, lazily playing with the ribbon wound around it.

You broke apart for air, brushing your noses teasingly. “Missed me?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, “I have quite a few updates.”

“And so have I,” you grinned. “You first?”

“Well,” Hongjoong began, his hand on your thigh travelling to the inner side, drawing your panties away to slide his fingers along your wet folds. “The meeting was a success for me. Prince Woobin admitted he would like my crown, and my court was not happy with it. I brought up the Neverland Accords and that made him lose his temper. Good thing the King witnessed that.”

“Ah, that’s good,” you said, which came out more as a moan when he slipped a digit inside you, rubbing your clit in slow strokes with his thumb. “Is that why he’s been trying so hard to get in everyone’s good graces tonight?”

Hongjoong took a moment to respond, too busy trailing kisses down your neck and along your shoulders, drawing the straps of the half-sleeve dress away. “Surely. He has no idea what’s coming for him.”

“About that,” you rocked your hips against his hand when he inserted another finger inside, resting your head back against the door. “The King mentioned something about his father’s illness being similar to his own. I took the opportunity to tell him about ruby.”

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong paused and you gave him a warning look, prompting him to continue thrusting his fingers inside you.

“I mean,” you breathed, curling into his body when you could feel the familiar buildup of an orgasm. “I tricked him. I told him that I was instructed to use an opium compound by the Duke’s royal physicians- which is true, by the way, I discussed the medical side of it with him in the earlier days- ah.”

Hongjoong smirked when you squeezed your eyes shut as he slowed his pace. He was playing with you and it always drove you mad and he loved seeing you in that state.

“So I told him that I was suspicious about ruby and requested the Prince- you- to let me access the private library so I could check if this was the right drug to use. And then I- Hongjoong!”

You moaned loudly when he pressed your clit, the orgasm crashing over you suddenly and with a force that had you gripping at him for dear life. Hongjoong helped you recover from it, rubbing your clit in slow circles and caressing your cheek as you shuddered before he picked you up in his arms and brought you to the couch, looking up at you.

“Say that again.”

“What?”

“Say my name,” he commanded and you brought your face next to his to whisper his name in his ear. He groaned at that, making quick work of unfastening his belt and you barely had time- and the strength- to take off your panties before he had you sit on his hard cock, easily sliding in.

“Now talk.”

You gave him a look, your walls clenching around him at the way he ordered you and he scoffed. “Uh… where was I?”

“Library.”

“Right,” you tried moving but he gripped your hips, making you sit still and you gave up. “So I told him that I found something suspicious in the library which is making me suspect that Prince Woobin had a hand in the late King’s death. Because it was Prince Woobin’s royal physician who was aware of this opium compound, who also happens to be the mentee of the Late King’s dead doctor.”

“Ah…” Hongjoong nodded. “So my father knows that I’m aware of this?”

“I told him that I’ve addressed my suspicions to you and you’re investigating the matter.”

“So when I finally tell him that I’m suspecting the Duke-”

“He will believe you because he’s already heard from me, and I’m his doctor,” you grinned. “I can’t be lying to him about this- and I’ve been lowering his dose slowly anyway so he thinks that I’m trying to get him off this medication without adverse effects.”

“And why are you lowering it? I thought you were going to kill him with ruby?”

“I found a better alternative,” you smirked. “One that would make it look more natural than ruby. And do you know what I call it?”

“What?”

“Silver Light,” you kissed the top of his head. “Like the colour of your hair.”

Hongjoong laughed at that, shaking his head and gladly meeting your lips in a kiss that quickly got heated and prompted him to thrust his cock inside you deeply and you quickly returned the sentiment, bouncing on top of him and matching his energy.

“You’re insane,” he told you, sucking at your bottom lip. “With this, the Duke will finally be out of my way.”

“What about the Duke of Mist- Prince Woojin?” You asked, tugging at his hair which always turned him on.

“An accomplice, maybe,” Hongjoong breathed and you knew he was close. “He’ll be exiled but only after he watches his brother get executed.”

“How fun,” you licked a spot on his neck before kissing there. “Calls for a feast.”

“Oh, I’ll have one right here,” Hongjoong looked down at your joined cores, rolling his hips along yours. “Say my name, princess.”

You were so close. You joined your foreheads as he took control of the pace and you called his name in soft whispers again and again until he was spilling inside you, until his warmth covered you and made you become undone in his arms once again.

And when the two of you laughed maniacally, you decided it.

You were not going to give him up. Not like this- not like the Master wanted you to.

You would take your sweet time. You would have him satisfy your desire like this for as long as he was under your control. You would have him fill you up, have him mark your skin just like he was doing now, have him call you princess, or queen, or whatever the fuck he wanted to. You would wear the ruby crown he loved so much. You would sit on his lap while he sat on the throne.

You only hoped the tugging at your heart was for the desire for all of that instead of the desire to be looked at with love.

—--------------------------------

The past week had been nothing short of eventful and chaotic, to put it simply.

With the King suspecting his brother which bled in his interactions, making the Duke wonder if the King had made up his mind to crown his son, he started trying to reason with the King. His method was the same as Hongjoong’s- to dig up dirt on the Prince and tell the King of his shortcomings. However, the Duke was not aware that he was being suspected of treason, and there was no bigger sin than treason for the King. How could a son kill his own father? 

The King found himself thinking about the reason a lot. He mentioned it when you slipped verita into his drug. He asked you if it was common for a child to kill his parents.

“Unheard of,” you told him. “Depends on the circumstances, I guess. When you have power, you’ll be targeted by anyone and everyone- it wouldn’t matter if they’re blood relations.”

“Sometimes I wish I was a farmer,” the King laughed in disappointment. “I could have lived a good life.”

“They have their own set of troubles,” you told him. “They worry about how to feed their wife and kids. They worry about having too many mouths to feed but then find themselves with even more. And then they do worse things than kill their children and live with the guilt.”

“What’s worse than death?”

“I guess you’ll know soon,” you shrugged and he passed you a side-eye. “If your brother really had a hand in your father’s death… whatever you do next would make you think back to this moment.”

The grief the King felt was clear, and it became even worse when Hongjoong, as per his father’s request, finally concluded the investigation and found the Duke of Neverland, Prince Woobin, guilty of the late King’s murder with the Duke of Mist, Prince Woojin, a suspected accomplice. 

Tonight, Prince Woobin was going to get hanged in the square within the castle walls. The kingdom was in an uproar with his supporters crowding the streets and making home outside the castle walls. Many believed he was being wronged because apart from the Neverland Accords, his career had been pretty remarkable. If you were objective, he was probably fit to run this kingdom too. Prince Hongjoong might be a skilled leader but he still lacked a few important qualities that the people wanted in their future king, such as empathy. You weren’t one to say though, when you had orchestrated this whole plan.

The Duke of Mist Island, Prince Woojin, was choosing to remain silent. It was probably because if he spoke in the favour of Prince Woobin, the suspicions of him being an accomplice would sound true. While the kingdom was outraged, the current king and prince weren’t void of supporters. By choosing to remain silent, he would only get exiled until proven guilty or innocent. He had to think of himself.

One thing was clear to everyone, though. The monarchy was falling apart and it was causing a palpable sense of restlessness. The King’s health was declining at a rapid rate now and his heart was weaker- it was grief that was doing your job for you. Prince Hongjoong was trying his best to keep things calm and so far, he had it under control. It looked like he would soon earn the favour of the majority with his uncles out of the picture. The people had no other choice.

You were stationed at the King’s side, next to his retired aide- an old man who came to be with the King at this difficult moment. You needed to be here in case the King suddenly felt unwell- after all, he was going to witness his little brother get executed.

Hongjoong was seated on the other side and every time that he glanced at the King to make sure if he was alright, he would meet your eyes. You exchanged no signals, though. Tonight, you had hundreds of eyes trained on you. If anyone caught you sharing eye contact, they would simply think the Prince was worried about his father and was making sure that the doctor was alert. If he was doing this consciously, you had to commend his acting.

Prince Woobin’s face was covered with a black cloth as he entered the square, being walked by the guards who held his chained arms. You looked across the square to find his royal physician whose licence was revoked for medical negligence on the basis that he was aware of ruby’s effects- and possibly, how it was used for the murder of the late King. The fact that he had done nothing about it and encouraged you to use it instead made his position worse. You talked to the King and told him that revoking his licence was enough since nobody could have guessed that ruby was dangerous without referring to the royal archives in the private library. 

The guards made Prince Woobin kneel in front of the King, though a level and quite a distance separated the brothers. His mask was taken off, revealing the Duke in a ghastly state. His eyes were sunken though they harboured pure hatred for the people who were wrongly blaming him. The fire burning from the torch illuminated one side of his face, casting deep shadows on the other.

“Your Majesty!” Prince Woobin’s voice boomed through the area, earning startled gasps from the crowd. “Brother dear! I urge you to reconsider and reinvestigate.”

The King sighed deeply. “All the evidence points to you. You plotted to kill me the same way you killed my father.”

“He was my father too, and I would never do that. I may have been after the crown since long ago, but it was never my intention to get my hands bloody along the way. I’m not like this, and you know that.”

“Do I?” The King asked himself, ignoring his brother’s plea of innocence. 

Hongjoong got up this time and his uncle looked at him with such distaste in his eyes that you almost got worried. “Your services to the Kingdom of Wonderland are appreciated. However, you are guilty of treason and murder of the late King, an unforgivable act. We must set an example, however much it pains us.”

Prince Woobin only scoffed in response and spat on the ground, causing the crowd to shift uncomfortably. Prince Hongjoong, however, remained unfazed. 

“Any last words?”

“Yes,” the Duke stood up, standing tall in front of everyone. “You will regret this. Tonight marks the beginning of the end.”

The King rested his head in his hands, overcome with emotions and you asked him if he was feeling alright, even though it was obvious that he was not. You looked at Hongjoong and he stood in front of his father, blocking his view.

“I- I can’t watch this,” the King wiped his eyes.

“It has to happen in your presence- you know the rules,” Prince Hongjoong rubbed his father’s back. “I’ll cover you.”

Prince Hongjoong signalled the executioners to begin and the crowd fell eerily silent as the Duke was led to the gallows. The air felt grim and the Duke’s footsteps were heavy. Though he looked pale when his gaze settled on the blade that was to decapitate his head, he settled on the lunette with a sense of resignation and finality. 

The executioner’s words went over your head. All you could see and hear was red. Red for lies, red for deception and red for death. The blade’s drop was swift and silent but whatever sound it made was masked by the fear and warning delivered as a message through this execution.

The King left immediately after and you followed after him, sharing one last look with Hongjoong whose head was held higher than ever. Perhaps, the burden of the crown was starting to feel lighter on his head. You wished you could kiss his head at that moment and tell him that it was going to get easier from here.

However, it looked like you did not need to. That night, when you went to find the Prince in one of the abandoned rooms, you found them empty. Wondering if he was in your room- or his own room- you started going back towards the residential area but the faint sound of music caught your attention. If it had been any other day, you would have ignored it but something prompted you to investigate.

In one of the storage rooms that held old musical instruments, the room that was once an active class, was the Crown Prince shaking his arms in the air like a maestro, playing an invisible instrument to the music blasting off the gramophone. You remained frozen in the doorway, watching him dance like a maniac to whatever was going on in his head. His movements quickened as the music reached the crescendo and they both crashed down in harmony with the Prince twirling and laughing loudly to himself.

Was he that happy? Was he this pleased now that he was sure that he would be ascending the throne? Strangely enough, the words of your Master started feeling substantial. He wasn’t wrong when he told you why the Crown Prince wasn’t fit for the crown, and you were only realising it now in its full weightage.

The Crown Prince was a madman, blinded by the desire for power and nothing else. He would do anything to have his way. He was celebrating being one step closer to the throne even though the path was marred by blood now. Did he really think you were his equal? Of course not, he was a royal. But did he think you were someone significant in his life now that things were shifting between you two, or had he taken your words too seriously? Were you still just a tool to him? And would he use you even if it meant he had to crown you?

You decided to leave him be for the night, going back to your room to send a message to the Master and make preparations for the final hurdle-

The King.

—--------------------------

If you were honest, you had imagined the Prince choking you far too many times. 

You imagined it would be a result of a spontaneous sequence of events- perhaps, while he kissed you and his hand went around your neck instead of cupping the side like he usually did, he would realise you might have a thing for getting choked. Maybe he would even hear you moan in response and look in your eyes to confirm if you liked it.

Or perhaps, it could be a consequence of a heated moment, such as him on top of you and thrusting relentlessly into you, recognising that you were inches away from an orgasm, and right when your body would arch and jerk as it crashed over you, he would squeeze the sides of your neck to heighten it further. You thought he would make you see stars or something even better.

However, being pinned to the wall by both his hands around your neck, his thumbs pressing your larynx threateningly and making you physically choke in pain was not it. His eyes bore into yours, dripping with venom and you tried smacking his hands away but it didn’t work.

“Did you do it?”

You stopped struggling for a moment, confused, before your features softened. Hongjoong watched with a frown but when he heard your raspy chuckle, he gave you a warning look but your laugh only got louder, making you cough because of his hold on your neck.

“You’re welcome… Your Majesty.”

It had been only a few days since the Duke’s execution. The King was having a hard time coming to terms with his brother’s blood on his hands. He may have bought your lies when you insisted that the Duke had a hand in the late King’s death, but he must have been suspecting tampering of evidence or something worse since he actually got out of his room and went to the private library to conduct his own investigation.

You had luckily lowered the ruby dosage to the minimum and the King was aware that you couldn’t have replaced it with something right away- it might have caused some side-effects. While the King did not suspect you, only commending you for caring about his health, his son received the scepticism in your stead. The King was beginning to feel more wary of Hongjoong and it was becoming obvious to everyone around them. It didn’t help that Hongjoong was doing absolutely nothing to help his case. 

You had successfully completed the first part of your mission, but there was no word from the Master. Had bluebirds abandoned you? All you needed was a signal to proceed with the rest of the plan. Could it be that they somehow peeked inside your heart and discovered the true motives behind why you were cooperating with them? 

You were anxious, and that was not good. It didn’t help that the Prince was incredibly busy now that Prince Woobin’s post as the Duke of Neverland was empty. The Duke of Mist had just negotiated for his life and the King had stopped Hongjoong from taking any further steps related to that matter for the time being. It was getting messier and you were realising that the Prince’s besetting sin might be his emotions and unquenchable thirst for more. While he was fully capable of making rational decisions and was doing his best to appear innocent, he could not hide how much fun he was having handling the matters that were once handled by the late Duke.

And the King may be old and ill, but he was not blind. He suspected Hongjoong, and while he was not stupid, he was too trusting of those around him and that led him to ask you what you thought about the situation. You were thrown off by the question.

“I feel like I’ve made a mistake. It’s weighing on my heart and it will take my life sooner than expected.”

“But why do you feel so?” You asked. “I know that the registers were not substantial evidence but the circumstances…”

“I know,” he nodded. “It seems odd that the royal physician was aware of ruby’s role in my father’s death yet remained shut. I wonder why. Could he have a hand in wrongly accusing Woobin?”

It was then that you realised- Prince Woobin’s physician might have been a member of the bluebirds too. That made more sense than the doctor knowing ruby’s effects and letting them slide when you consulted him for the King- no doctor’s moral code would allow that. 

“But if you think Prince Woobin was innocent and the doctor acted on his own, that would mean he’s serving someone else.”

“Yeah, well,” the King shrugged. “Wouldn’t put past my son to have a hand in it. He’s been far too giddy ever since he got that thorn out of his side.”

You stifled a smile at that. “Isn’t he simply carrying out his duties?”

“Yes, that’s true. But he doesn’t have to look happy about it, does he? Even if I’m wrong and he’s simply doing his job…” the King faltered, coughing violently and you passed him a handkerchief. He wiped his mouth, smearing the piece of cloth with blood. “I can only imagine how happy he will be when I finally die.”

“He’s still your son,” you chided gently. “You’re his father. You can confront him about this if it’s bothering you so much, Your Majesty. This is clearly taking a toll on your health- I should look for other drugs-”

“No,” the King shook his head. “No more drugs. That’s enough. My time is near and I should not run away.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” you pleaded. “But you don’t have to be in pain as you walk towards your inevitable death. Painkillers?”

The King chuckled at that. “You’re a brilliant doctor, y/n. I hope Hongjoong takes good care of you after I’m gone.”

Somehow, that sentence stuck with you for all the reasons and more. The King was the one person who had treated you like an actual human despite his position of power and authority. You had always found yourself comparing him to the Master- another person with power and authority yet no regard for his subjects. While the King had always patted your shoulder with affection, the Master had only ever touched you with a stick- the marks of which you still bore on your skin. While the King always encouraged you to make leaps in the medicinal field and use him as your ‘test subject’ which was an inside joke amongst all the doctors in the castle now, the Master had only ever criticised you.

Would it be so bad if you let the King live? Or were you doing him a favour by killing him? He would die a painless death and wouldn’t witness the doom of his empire. One death had already cost him a great deal- he surely couldn’t take more. Hongjoong wanted him to live a little longer and hand him the crown with his own hands before he passed on, but no matter how much you tried to convince Hongjoong that the King couldn’t live long, his pride wouldn’t let him admit that the King would never willingly crown him. It was why he urged you to look after him as best as you could and why he was so enthusiastic with his work lately. He had something to prove now.

And it was why, ultimately, you decided to let the King rest. He did not need to dig any deeper and find out that his own son and his royal physician had orchestrated this plan. He did not need to be in agony anymore. You slipped the silver light in his medicine and he took it unsuspectingly. You squeezed his wrist in silent gratitude for all he had done for you- from his heart. And then you went to your room and waited to hear the news.

It was too bad that the Prince himself had to be the one who delivered the news to you- 

“Did you do it?”

“You’re welcome… Your Majesty,” you said, finally getting him to let go of your neck. You glared at him as you rubbed your neck in an attempt to soothe the burning sensation. “Didn’t think you’d be so ecstatic to hear that.”

Hongjoong stared at you, for the first time feeling something resembling fear in his heart- the future looked uncertain and for once, the look in your eyes made him shiver. Hongjoong was realising how perhaps he, too, was at your mercy. You wanted him to take over the throne so you sped up the process for him, getting rid of his uncles and now his father. All for what? For the throne that was his anyway? And you didn’t even want to be queen until he suggested it- just why-

“The King died of ‘grief’, but really, it’s the silver light’s doing,” you told him, taking a few steps to close the distance between you two, placing a hand on his shoulder, your eyes scanning his face. “It’s too bad he couldn’t crown you with his own hands, but that’s okay. All that matters is that he’s gone and he didn’t discover the truth about your role in Prince Woobin’s death. We did it, Hongjoong. You did it.”

He did it. He trusted the wrong person and messed everything up. Sure, the fact that he was now the King made him ecstatic, but there was still something that bothered him-

And that was you.

You were unpredictable and dangerous. And he couldn’t have someone like that by his side in the long run. He could not continue dallying with you anymore.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” you urged him, planting soft kisses around his mouth and on the tip of his nose. “You don’t think I did something wrong, do you?”

“Of course not,” Hongjoong kissed your lips. “I just wanted to make sure if it really was you. Did I scare you?”

You shook your head despite the air being heavy with lies. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Hongjoong scoffed at that, looking down as he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief and pretending that your words did not feel like a stab in his back. “I’m just a little bummed that you didn’t tell me.”

“It was a… spur-of-the-moment decision,” you ran your hands across the silky material of his cream shirt. “But all’s well that ends well, isn’t that so?”

Hongjoong nodded. “They’ve taken him away- the funeral will be the day after tomorrow so Prince Woojin can attend.”

“Ah, he’s still here, huh?” You clicked your tongue. “Anything I can help with?”

“Oh, I’ve got that handled,” he assured you, caressing your cheek. “Now… can we stop talking and stop acting? Didn’t you say something about how you couldn’t wait until I got the title so you could say you fucked the King?”

You laughed at that, the two of you leaning in for a kiss that soon turned heated, resulting in discarded clothes on the floor. Hongjoong was rough with you tonight, feeling lightheaded with the weight of the new title on his head. It didn’t help that you kept teasing him, calling him the King or Your Majesty Hongjoong. Despite the gravity of the situation, it turned him on so damn much and he realised that he really was mad. But he couldn’t stop. 

He couldn’t stop until he fucked you hard, taking you from behind and making you become undone on his cock over and over again. He snaked his hand back on your neck as you reached your high, this time to crane your face towards him so he could see you. You locked eyes with him, his silver hair matted on his forehead and a sheen of sweat making his skin glisten. This time, he choked you the proper way right when you came.

You actually saw stars this time. You didn’t mind that he treated you like a ragdoll tonight, probably pouring all his frustrations, grief and anxiety into you. You didn’t mind that he used you like a tool, spanking you whenever you so much as looked at him the wrong way and making you rock on his hips or fingers even though you were an oversensitive bundle of nerves. 

For tonight, you were his and he was yours. You had him wrapped around your fingers and even though he was the one who wielded power and dominance over you, it was ultimately you who moved his strings and controlled his actions. You could only wish that he would remain ignorant for as long as possible. After all, it would be too much of a shame if you couldn’t be like this for just a while.

Hongjoong stopped thrusting his cum inside you, resting his forehead against your bare shoulder and catching his breath, sliding out moments later and watching the leaking cum out of you with an amused look. You smacked his arm and he scooted away so you could bundle the sheets around yourself as you lay next to him, tangling your limbs.

“This is it,” you whispered, kissing his chest. “This is where you’re meant to be.”

Hongjoong kissed the top of your head in answer and you thought his touch felt distant and cold but your mind was too hazy to make sense of it.

For now, you were in the King’s arms. And you were already planning how to make it an everyday ritual.

—------------------------------

Today, the Master’s big plan for the Kingdom of Wonderland was finally going to come to an epic conclusion- Prince Hongjoong was going to get crowned king and he was finally going to ascend the throne. Granted, the path had been rocky and bloody but he finally made it. 

You would be his royal physician now, and no one else’s. And oh, the sight of the empty seat next to his that was once the queen’s was bubbling desire in you for something that was not- or should not be- yours. You were just a piece in the Master’s plan and you becoming the queen was not a part of his scheme.

But you were tired of obeying the faceless Master when there was no guarantee that you would live to see the next day- or even the next moment. The bluebirds were everywhere. They could end you just as easily as you had ended the King. They were cooks, soldiers, doctors, guards and assassins. They sat at every post in the castle and you wouldn’t be surprised if the Master was prowling somewhere around here- especially today. He had to be present to see the scheme of his forefathers about to conclude. 

And you were wondering if it would be too bad if you made some alterations to the Master’s plan. If he had one of the bluebirds sit on the throne, he wouldn’t need to end the monarchy to have the kingdom flourish, would he? He could just have them manipulate the royals and make a puppet out of Hongjoong. And it wouldn’t be too bad if you were the one who sat on the throne, right?

“We should do something about the queen’s empty throne, huh?” 

You almost jumped at the sudden intrusion, looking behind to see Hongjoong’s aide, Mingi, walking towards you to stand beside you. The Hall wasn’t empty but the workers had been silently making arrangements and you had just stopped on your way to your room to get a look at how the preparations were going. 

Mingi was dressed in his official uniform, a number of badges and emblems on the ruby red coat. He smiled at you, continuing. “You’re thinking the King would need someone by his side, aren’t you?”

“I was just reminiscing,” you lied smoothly. “It seems like just yesterday that the late King and Queen sat here proudly and the Hall was full of life.”

“Ah,” Mingi nodded in understanding. “It’s been… a bit sad afterwards, hasn’t it? The King… the grief really clung to him.”

“I sometimes wonder if there’s no cure for grief,” you sighed. “If the loss of his wife wasn’t enough-”

“His brothers,” Mingi nodded. “It’s truly a shame. Prince Woojin has arrived for the coronation but he isn’t too pleased to be here.”

“He’s going to get exiled from his homeland, so I can understand why,” you said and he agreed. The two of you looked at the empty seats for a while before you said you had to get ready for the event and you parted ways. You went to your room to change into a ruby red gown, wearing the earrings Hongjoong had gifted you and tying your hair back. And right after, you went to sit by the window to take a breather.

The sky was clear today, and you wished Hongjoong’s intentions would be too. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was amiss from the night that he pounced on you, suspecting that you killed the King. Yes, you had without letting him know beforehand, but he knew this was inevitable. And you had done him a favour because the King was almost on to him, but Hongjoong just had to be an ungrateful fool. It truly was a shame.

A knock sounded on the door and you opened it to reveal one of Hongjoong’s guards, asking you to accompany him to the royal chambers. You got worried for a moment, wondering if there was a medical emergency but the guard assured you that the Crown Prince just needed to talk to you about something so you followed without the medical kit. Mingi let you in and left, saying he had some matters to attend to. You looked around, finding the chambers awfully empty now that the King was gone and none of his staff was present. You knocked on Hongjoong’s room and he hummed in answer so you let yourself in.

“I see you’re already struggling with the burden of being the King,” you commented, watching him struggle with the robe unceremoniously. “Where’re your maids?”

“I don’t like being dressed by them,” he muttered. “Help me?”

You softly chuckled, standing in front of him between the mirror to fasten the clips to his jacket and then you straightened his clothes. “You only like my hands on you, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Hongjoong smirked, watching you with a fondness that made you question if you had been wrong to suspect him. “I just wanted to see you before the coronation.”

“Someone’s finally feeling emotional, huh?” You teased and he laughed at that, resting his hands on your hips. “How does it feel to finally be the King of Wonderland, Your Majesty?”

“It hasn’t happened yet,” he raised a brow but you tsk-ed.

“That’s just formality, the event. You are the King. And I’m glad to be here with you right now,” you told him- you really were happy for him, from the bottom of your heart. “All those library sessions finally earned us the crown.”

Hongjoong nodded, not commenting on how you used the term ‘us’. As if the crown belonged to you too. He supposed you had the right to feel like that after being his sword and his shield. 

“Can you come see me after the coronation, in the music room?” Hongjoong asked, gently cupping your face with one hand. “I’d like to give you something.”

“Really?” You asked, searching his eyes for an answer but finding nothing. You felt your heart thump with excitement at the prospect of what this could entail. The silly voice in your head told you that maybe he really was going to crown you or at least make a promise.

“Okay,” you nodded, kissing his palm. “I’ll be there.”

Hongjoong smiled at that and leaned in to kiss you, deep and passionate like none of the kisses you had ever received from him before. Your back arched as you wrapped your arms around his neck and melted into the kiss, his arm around your back bringing you closer. You kissed for a long time before he broke apart and you laughed a little, telling him that you should be going to mark your attendance at the Hall. Hongjoong let you go with a final kiss to the top of your head, promising to see you later.

You had to admit that you were confused by the sudden change in his behaviour, but maybe he had been a bit cold towards you for the past couple of days because of the stress. The Prince had always been a moody man but that didn’t mean that you weren’t hyper-aware of everything he said to you or the way he acted towards you ever since you got rid of the King. If there was one thing you had realised the past few months, it was that you were on your own. The Master wasn’t going to take care of you or protect you if you messed up. The Prince would always protect his crown first before and he would gladly frame you if he ever felt threatened. You were aware of that, and as much as you desired the Crown Prince, his power, and perhaps, the seat next to his, you weren’t going to be unprepared.

When you went to the Hall, you were greeted by many. You had been the King’s royal physician and his confidante of sorts, especially after his aide retired. Tonight, you were going to honour him by lighting the torch that marked the King’s absence before the coronation would begin. The late Queen’s torch would be lit by Prince Woojin, the Duke of Mist Island.

There was a murmur spreading throughout the Hall as Prince Woojin entered, clad not in the official red but black- for mourning. He hadn’t been staying at the castle ever since he arrived for the Duke’s execution and just when he was about to leave the Capital, he heard the news of the King and came to attend the funeral, extending his stay a few more days as per Hongjoong’s request. He joined you at the front row, a few empty seats away from you but you got up and greeted him, just like you would have greeted the late King.

“Have you been well?” Prince Woojin asked. “I heard that you were quite close to my brother.”

You sighed deeply. “I’m alright, thank you for asking. I hope you’ve been well too.”

Prince Woojin shrugged in answer. As the youngest of the three, he was quite the oddball of the family, lacking any desire for the throne since the beginning and keeping to governing the northern region of Wonderland where the islands were located, collectively referred to as the Mist Islands. Unlike the other Duke, he never argued about the policies either, only following the late King’s orders. You supposed there were people in this world who weren’t born with the innate desire for power after all. Prince Woojin was a living example of that.

“Do you think I should start packing up after the coronation?” Prince Woojin asked, surprising you. “I’ve heard rumours that I’m going to be exiled. As if living on Mist Islands isn’t an exile itself.” 

You frowned- you weren’t surprised that he had heard that, but why did he ask you? Was this just small talk or was he on to something? “Did you never want to rule the islands, Your Highness?”

“It’s not that,” he chuckled. “But it’s quite a trip from here, isn’t it? I just wish I had seen my brother more often when he was alive.”

“Well… Prince Woobin did,” you shrugged, and Prince Woojin heard the rest of the sentence even though you didn’t say it out loud. Look where that got him.

“For a long time, I’ve thought that whoever sets their eyes on the throne is doomed,” Prince Woojin said and you listened to his words carefully. “For a while now, the position has birthed tragic endings. Woobin’s death has only strengthened my belief. Even if I was offered the position, I wouldn’t take it.”

You made an impressed face, nodding at the man who looked older than his brothers despite being in his late forties. “You’re very wise, Prince Woojin-”

“Do you covet the throne, my dear?” Prince Woojin looked at you and your mouth parted in surprise at his observation- or guess. Whatever it was. 

“I… don’t, really,” you admitted, looking towards the empty seats. “I guess I covet power and control. For at least once in my life, I would like to be free to make my own decisions and have no one influence my path.”

“Let me tell you something,” he leaned towards you, just as the doors opened revealing the Crown Prince. “You don’t need to sit there to have power or control over your life. That is a cage that looks like salvation, and once you take the crown, there’s no going back. You’re trapped until death. You’ll be controlled by forces you can’t even see. At least right now, you’ll have what? One? Two people influencing your life?”

You glanced at Hongjoong who narrowed his eyes when he saw the two of you conversing. Turning your attention to the Duke, you nodded. “You’re right. It really is a cage, isn’t it?”

Prince Woojin smiled, slumping back and nodding. He looked at where his nephew was, who was being marched towards the throne with Mingi by his side. You and Prince Woojin stood up and the rest followed. You went towards the torches in the middle of the room, standing in front of each other. One of the servants brought a candle to you and you lit the King’s torch first, locking eyes with Prince Woojin. He smiled at you, taking the candle from your hand before lighting the Queen’s torch. After the fire from them rose to a certain height, you both turned towards Hongjoong who was waiting for the signal at the end of the room. He bowed back and turned to receive the crown.

“The lone survivor,” Prince Woojin commented. “For how long, I wonder.”

Your heart sank at his words and you slowly turned to face him. It couldn’t be, could it? Prince Woojin only smiled knowingly at you and then applause sounded across the room, with a chorus of ‘Long Live His Majesty King Hongjoong!’ sounding across the room. While he looked magnificent in the crown, you were left pondering over the Duke’s question.

For how long?

When things got a bit busy, you made one last attempt to tie your fate to Hongjoong’s. You went to your room and wrote a letter, tucking it under the bed like you always did. And then you went to the music room to wait for the new king. You were starting to feel a sense of finality washing over you and to cope with what was surely coming, you started to press your fingers to the piano, the movements feeling foreign but strangely intimate- as if the notes meant to comfort you and pass you silent assurances.

You supposed that was the reason why, when the King finally entered the room with a guarded look on his face and two soldiers by his side, you weren’t surprised. You only scoffed in mock amusement, shaking your head.

“Doctor y/n, royal physician to the late King,” King Hongjoong announced. “You are under arrest for the murder of the late King.”

You let out a short laugh which soon turned maniacal and Hongjoong signalled the guards to give you both some privacy. They went to stand outside the room though the door was kept open.

“You’ll regret this, oh, you will,” you said when you finally got up, taking off the ruby earrings. “This will be the moment you will look back to soon.”

Hongjoong only smiled in answer. “You’re a threat to me as you were to the King. I can’t have you prowling around, you must understand.”

“Of course,” you walked to him and took his hand, slamming the earrings on his palm and curling his fingers over it. “The crown suits you, Hongjoong. Make the most of it while you can.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” He raised a brow. 

You smiled, leaning in to whisper something in his ear, making him freeze. You kissed his cheek before drawing away, getting one good look at all that glory, memorising the face of the person you had crowned, the eyes that had betrayed you long ago, the lips that had always served as a distraction to make you blind to what had been brewing in his mind all along, and then at his hands that had led you to your doom. Before he could stop you, you walked past him and surrendered yourselves to the soldier, mockingly bowing at him.

Even though you could taste your tears, your lips were curved in a smile. You may have doomed yourself but-

You would not be alone. 

You had tied your fate to Hongjoong’s long ago. Your paths had been intertwined since the beginning and would remain so.

You had heard from the Master once- that it takes a monster to destroy another monster. Perhaps, you took his words literally- you became a monster just so you could take another down. You did not regret one bit of it.

—--------------------------

You had watched many executions take place in the square. You had watched the recent execution of the Duke beside Hongjoong.

However, you did not imagine you would be watching the very empty throne from the square, on your knees with your hands tied in front of you- still with Hongjoong beside you, in a similar state.

“Quite a view from up here, isn’t it?” You commented. “Bet the Duke was too infuriated to admire it when it was his time.”

Hongjoong didn’t reply, looking at the rope that was wound around his hands and then back at the throne that he had sat on for barely a day. He clicked his tongue in anger when he spotted Prince Woojin. He didn’t sit on the throne but went to stand at the edge to watch.

This time, the square was empty save for the two of you. No one needed to witness this ugly conclusion, you supposed. It was just a few officials from the castle and-

Mingi. Watching you from the shadows and motioning with his finger towards the opposite direction-

At Prince Woojin. You frowned in confusion but then he crossed his heart and then his wrist, and understanding washed over you. 

Mingi was a bluebird, and so was Prince Woojin. You realised then that your doom had been inevitable. You were meant to die with Hongjoong from the very beginning. Mingi had made sure that happened, and Prince Woojin, who had to be one of the masterminds, had tricked you into planting the letter under your bed. The letter confirmed that Hongjoong had ordered you to kill the King and had fabricated the evidence to get the Duke executed for a crime he did not commit. That way, they had an official confession to get you both arrested and ready for trial. 

But… Prince Woojin had to be someone who worked closely with the Master who had trained you. The Master had to be present today- you looked around, finding some familiar faces but failing to recognise him.

“No one’s coming to save you, Princess,” Hongjoong scoffed and you raised a brow as you looked at him.

“Fuck you too, Hongjoong.” 

Hongjoong shook his head in amusement, looking at you with a strange expression- was that affection in his eyes? You frowned. “You don’t have to fake your feelings anymore. At least be true to me- to yourself- in your last moments.”

“No point wishing I could kill you with my own hands anymore when we’re both going to the same place,” Hongjoong said, his body shaking as he stifled a fit of laughter. You shook your head at that.

“Isn’t it funny?” You attempted to change the subject, wanting a distraction from the way your knees felt numb from kneeling for so long now. “We were doomed from the beginning, you and I. We were both pieces in a game that was being played by these people- the masterminds, from so long ago. Did they ever foresee this moment?”

“Pieces, you say?” Hongjoong asked, wondering who these masterminds were- had he lost the real game while he got high on what looked like a victory to him? “Were you a spy?”

“A bluebird,” you confessed with a short laugh as tears pricked the corner of your eyes. “They’re everywhere, Hongjoong. They’re watching us right now.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened as he took a look around, finding all the eyes present trained on him. All his life, he had felt like he did not truly belong in the castle but never once had he felt it with this magnitude. He felt like an imposter in his own home.

“So this was all a part of your plan?” Hongjoong asked. His words carried no bitterness or disdain. He simply wanted answers.

“It wasn’t,” you shook your head. “At least, not this,” you raised your tied hands in the air and looked at him. “I really wanted you to rule, Hongjoong. Even if it was just for a day.”

“Well, you got what you wanted-”

“That was what they wanted,” you continued. “I tried to find a way out of this, but you have to understand that I was trapped. By them. By you. I told you that I would make sure to undo everything and sit next to you when you got me arrested, but… the bluebirds got us. I didn’t think I’d sit next to you in the square.”

The rays of the sun were starting to peek from behind the arched roof of the elevation where Prince Woojin stood watching you both. You shut your eyes, letting the warmth of the sun seep into your skin. You were going to be cold for an eternity now.

“Feel that, Hongjoong?” You asked, unmoving. “Another thing we took for granted.”

“The sun?” 

“This warmth,” you looked at him, spotting the grim face of the executioners making their way from the other end of the square, the soldiers and court members taking their respective positions. “Did you ever take your time to feel it? Did you ever feel something similar?”

“I wasn’t always a cold, calculating bastard,” Hongjoong chuckled, glad you were talking to him right now. He somehow felt lighter. “I felt warmth in my mother’s arms.”

“I didn’t,” you told him and he looked at you but there was no pity in his eyes, only understanding. “I felt warmth when the King talked to me like I was his daughter.”

Hongjoong smiled at that, looking at his tied hands. The executioners paused when they saw that emotion on his King’s face, allowing just another moment. You looked back at Hongjoong, strands of silver hair covering his glazed eyes.

“Did you ever love me?” 

Hongjoong’s smile only deepened at that. “Did you?”

“Maybe I did,” you cocked your head, waiting for an answer.

“Maybe I did too,” he raised a brow. “We must have been lovers in our past life.”

“Or maybe we were enemies, and this was my twisted attempt at redemption,” you said and he chuckled. “Maybe we’ll actually do ourselves justice in the next life. If there is one.”

“Death won’t do us part,” he said and you finally let the tears fall even though your heart warmed at his words.

The executioners appeared in front of you, their swords gleaming and ready by their side. Hongjoong had personally requested execution by the sword instead of the guillotine though he never mentioned his reasons for this choice. He raised his tied hands in the air and the executioner looked towards Prince Woojin for confirmation. You narrowed your eyes at the Prince, wondering if he would take the throne or demolish the monarchical system but your thoughts got interrupted when you found your executioner untying the ropes around your hands as well. 

Confused, you looked at Hongjoong who extended his hand, prompting you to take it. You intertwined your fingers with his, squeezing them. He held your hand with considerable strength as if he meant to convey his fear for what was ahead but assure you that he was here, with you. 

“Death won’t do us part,” he promised and shut his eyes. 

You shut your eyes with a smile, thankful for his promise. Maybe in the next life, you would meet again under better circumstances, unburdened by lies and guilt, greed and lust. For the first time, you saw something other than red.

You saw silver- muted but warm, like Hongjoong’s hair. Bright and glaring like the colour of the drug, silver light, that doomed you. Distant and beautiful like the stars you saw at night while you rested in Hongjoong’s arms. Twinkling and intoxicating like the stars Hongjoong made you see when he made love to you.

You saw silver- glorious and absolute like the sword that painted you both red.

[sugarcause]

fucking xiao til he passes out with top male reader? 😭😭

🔞 fucking xiao until he passes out ✉

includes: xiao precis: the way you made him feel was just like a dream. take note of: rough sex, anal sex, prone bone, creampie, crying, overstimulation, hickeys, soft at the end, sub!bottom!xiao, dom!top!reader, mxm, raw sex reader gender: male :) voice mail: thank you for the request sir!! bro i wish i could check when asks were sent so ik how late i am AHHAA i need to know if i'm behind my non existent schedule

the way you pounded into him felt like a dream he didn't want to wake up from at all. but it was all real.

his bedroom was filled with sounds of unrestrained groans and the thumping of his headboard.

your eyes pierced into xiao as he looked up at you. it was the end of a long day and he was already tired, so pliant under you.

you greedily took in every expression that graced his face. the furrow of his brows, the biting of his lips, the lust clouding his gaze.

his arms were wrapped around your neck tightly as you filled him up, balls slapping against him lewdly as he took in every part of you.

you marked up his pale, smooth skin as you nipped and sucked all over his neck and collar.

once you were satisfied, you lifted your head and admired the debauched view of your lover under you.

you craned your neck downwards again to slot your lips together, making out messily as your tongues intertwined and you felt like you were set aflame.

you pulled away from him and flipped him on his stomach. the new position only let you insert deeper into him. it was like you piercing right into his most sensitive spots.

you fucked into him from behind as your arms were holding onto his shoulders, pressing him downwards. you pounded into him roughly as he felt himself tear up, eyes glistening in pleasure.

he was so overwhelmed with sensations and it only made everything feel even better.

he could feel a knot form in his stomach as the temperature only got hotter and more humid, your bodies covered in sweat. you were both so absorbed in the moment, nothing but reaching orgasm and tiring yourselves out mattered.

"i-i'm gonna cum!" he cried out, back arching further as he clasped onto the pillow even harder.

"go ahead baby." you assented as you felt his body tense.

he tightened around your cock even more and shook, yelling into the plush bed to silence his moan.

he came, cum soiling the sheets as you kept drilling into him relentlessly. his body felt like jelly and he could hardly think straight, the only thing on his mind was you.

although he had just come, he could still feel his dick leak as you kept using him mercilessly. goosebumps rose on his skin as he couldn't help but let himself go.

he was clenching down on you so tightly, his walls were warm and wet, it felt amazing. you could feel his body tremble under your touch as he was so sensitive. you kept slamming into his hole as he mindlessly let out small sounds of pleasure.

on xiao's end, he could feel his mind blank and his vision turn hazy. not long after his climax, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he lost consciousness.

his final feelings were your cock still slamming into him relentlessly as he let out one last moan.

you thrusted into him a few more times before feeling your own orgasm approach.

"ah! gonna cum!" you gasped.

you leaned forward, groaning into xiao's shoulder as you finally released, spilling your seed inside him.

your grip on his hips loosened as you caught your breath.

"xiao?" you asked. he was oddly quiet.

you slowly pulled out of him and moved slightly to look at his face and oh- his eyes were shut as he inhaled and exhaled lightly.

he passed out.

you chuckled as you made yourself comfortable beside him and wrapped your arm around his frame, pulling him close.

he squirmed a bit before laying an arm upon yours, sighing contentedly. your eyelids closed as you dozed off soon after.

wrote this on my phone while in a mahjong game fLEX

[barrowsteeth]

The Subtle Art of Attraction

[note: long post + gif heavy meta ahead!]

Much has been said about the innocence of the Heartstopper tv series since it premiered. In season one, there is no drinking, no smoking or drug use, no swearing (much to the irritation of those who just want Nick Nelson to say f*ck since he does so regularly in the graphic novels). There is also little sexual content, and nothing beyond hand holding and some pretty innocent kissing. But this doesn’t mean pleasure takes a back seat in the series, and sometimes finding ways to show physical attraction in subtle ways, leaving it up to the viewer to interpret, makes for an equally satisfying experience. I feel Heartstopper excels in this area, particularly where Nick and Charlie are concerned. There are dozens of these moments and I couldn't possibly mention them all, so I'll highlight my favorites. Feel free to add yours to the comments so we can all obsess discuss. Now, let’s dive right into episode two, where we see the first hints of how Nick’s feelings for Charlie are changing.

Nick seems fairly oblivious to start, but everything changes the day Charlie visits his house and he notices Charlie’s haircut. In the previous scene, Tori said Charlie’s hair looks the same, which leads us to believe that Nick is a little hyper-focused on Charlie's appearance, at least enough to notice a subtle change in his hair length. He doesn’t hesitate to reach out and play with Charlie’s curls, and when Charlie asks if it looks bad, Nick starts to blurt out that Charlie looks good, before he catches himself, looks Charlie up and down, then corrects to say the haircut looks great. Subtlety is not a skill Nick Nelson has mastered.

We've all talked a lot about the scene in which Charlie tries to teach Nick how to play the drums, but it’s a turning point for Nick and I think it needs to be mentioned. My favorite part of the scene is when Charlie grabs Nick’s hands and starts tapping out the beat. They’re squished together on that little stool, Charlie’s hands tightly gripped around his own, and when Nick finally breaks his gaze away from their hands and looks at Charlie, the realization that something is different is clear on his face, even if he hasn’t quite put all the pieces together yet. I love the parallel between their hands touching in this scene and the next.

In the next scene, we see that Nick and Charlie have been sitting on the couch watching movies. Nick seems a little tired when he looks over to see that Charlie has fallen asleep next to him. Perhaps his defenses are down because of the late hour? We see everything start to slowly click into place in Nick’s mind. He starts by smiling fondly at Charlie but quickly lowers his gaze to Charlie’s mouth. His own mouth opens a little and he looks back up at Charlie, considering. 

They are alone, the room is cozy and quiet except for the movie playing softly in the background, when we see Nick looking at Charlie’s upturned hand, practically asking to be held. Nick can’t resist hovering his hand over Charlie’s in this safe space. While the first experiment is short, Nick looks at Charlie’s mouth again after the first pass of his hand over Charlie’s, and he can’t resist going back for more. On the second pass, he holds his hand over Charlie’s for a much longer time, soaking up the imagined feeling of what it would be like to lower his hand just a little bit more and slot their fingers together. Is he remembering what it felt like when Charlie’s hands covered his own when they were sitting at the drum kit?

By the end of the scene Nick knows what he’s feeling, and what’s fascinating is that even after everything that’s happened so far, he doesn’t make excuses and run for the door, yet. Instead, he and Charlie have a lengthy goodbye and a spontaneous hug before Nick finally begins to panic and leaves.

We see a similar sizzle and fizz in episode three when Nick and Charlie are alone in the ballroom and have their first kiss, which is just as tentative and soft and sweet as anyone could have wished for. But while I adore their first kiss, it’s the second kiss that truly shows the physical attraction between them. This second kiss is more passionate, less controlled, and a little messier than the first. They now know they like kissing each other, but it’s too new and exciting to worry about technique and how their mouths fit together. This kiss is full of want, and while it’s still pretty innocent by tv standards, we can see how different this is than their first nervous kiss. Charlie’s hand cups Nick’s face before they kiss, then Nick pulls Charlie in closer by his shoulder. Mid-kiss, Charlie fists his other hand in Nick’s shirt, and when this kiss ends, Charlie’s hand slides down so he’s gripping Nick’s shirt in both of his hands. They don’t separate right away after this second kiss and while we can see Nick is a little shocked and awestruck, the panic doesn’t settle in until he hears Harry’s voice.

The morning after the party, there’s an entirely different tension between our boys when Nick shows up unexpectedly at Charlie’s house. Neither is sure how the other is feeling since Nick ran off after their kiss the night before. When they retreat to Charlie’s room, we see Charlie looking at Nick as he takes off his rain-soaked sweatshirt. This isn’t the first time Charlie has seen Nick’s body; they’re on the rugby team together and we’ve seen Nick without his shirt in the changing room before practice. But that isn’t a safe place to look at another boy’s body, especially not for an out gay kid like Charlie. While the circumstances are not ideal, Charlie can’t help but look in the privacy of his own room. Of course Charlie being Charlie, he quickly averts his eyes when he catches himself looking, adding to the guilt weighing  on his mind.

Thankfully, Nick and Charlie are back on track the next morning and this time, they can barely (read: cannot at all) contain their excitement when they see each other in form the next morning. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to watch them say hi to each other without smiling like a fool – and happily so! A few hours later, we find Nick waiting for Charlie in Mr Ajayi’s art room. Charlie pokes fun at Nick for saying he missed him after only four hours apart, but honestly, if you are Charlie Spring, you are probably bursting with joy hearing the boy you like say this to you! The boys are still all smiles as they banter and tease, and Charlie pulls Nick’s hand to his under the table. This is all really new, and scary for Nick especially,  but it’s also exciting and fun, and joyful. They are simply happy to be alone together, to be able to openly flirt and smile and touch, however secretly, in the sanctuary of the art room.

I’m running out of room for gifs so I’m going to skip over episode five, since I went into great detail about the arcade scene in another post, and move right on to my favorite episode in the series, Girls. So much happens to advance Nick and Charlie’s relationship in episode six, it almost – almost – could have been a happy season finale.

We first see Nick and Charlie spending time together on a blanket in the park with Nellie. Nick asks Charlie about how he knew he was gay and it’s clear he’s trying to work through his uncertainty about his sexuality. I love how this scene opens because we’ve just seen Nick have his big Pirates of the Caribbean moment, after which he watched the vlogger talk about bisexuality. But now he’s ready to open up a little bit more to Charlie. He asks him questions and includes him in the conversation. He doesn't divulge much, yet, but this is the first time we’ve seen them openly discuss it, and it feels like a big step that they’ve reached this point.

When Nick gets frustrated with himself, Charlie tries to lighten the mood and takes his hand before asking Nick if he wants to kiss under the guise of helping him figure things out. This moment is so adorable and soft it makes my toes curl, but I also think it shows how comfortable they’ve become with casual physical intimacy. 

After some playful banter, Nick reaches out for Charlie’s hands and pulls him back down to the blanket. They’re out together in public, tucked in next to an old tree for a little privacy. And while Charlie initially looks around before taking Nick’s hand, and their almost-kiss is interrupted before it starts, the lead up to the kiss sparks with attraction. Nick looks like the only thing he wants in the entire world is to kiss Charlie, which is understandable because Charlie looks absolutely kissable!

When I started planning this post, I was only going to focus on this next scene – in which Nick and Charlie are doing their homework in Charlie’s room – because it is packed with little moments that show how much these boys are attracted to one another, but also how far they’ve come in their relationship. So let’s dig deep into all of my favorite moments.

We start off with a beautiful, long shot of Charlie watching Nick. What I love most about this scene is how much time Charlie is given to simply look at Nick and appreciate the physicality of him. In the graphic novel, Nick is caught staring at Charlie in this scene, but I actually prefer that they changed the point of view in the tv series. We’re given ample opportunity to see Nick’s soppy love face (my favorite thing in the entire world, to be honest) throughout season one, and a lot of the focus is on Nick’s journey. But Charlie is on his own journey, and I think it’s important that he’s given the screen time here. In addition to leveling things up a little bit, I think this scene in particular has special significance for Charlie.

Charlie is an out, gay boy, the only one in his entire school. He had a sort-of relationship with Ben for a few months, but it was always clandestine. They met in the shadows to kiss occasionally but they weren’t boyfriends. Ben never came to his house. Ben never acknowledged knowing Charlie in front of anyone. Their relationship was limited to secret rendezvous in dark corners, only on Ben’s timeline and on Ben’s terms. Even though Nick and Charlie are tucked away in Charlie’s room, and they aren’t out to the world as a couple, they have established a relationship by this point and have talked about how much they like each other. As Charlie said in the art room in episode four, it is completely different than it was with Ben.

So it’s because of this that I’m thrilled that Charlie gets to have focus in this scene. The guy he likes so much is in his room, casually doing his homework, and Charlie is given all the time in the world to just stare and appreciate how attractive he finds Nick. The lighting highlights Nick’s entire body, not just his face, and Charlie just stares and stares and lets his mind wander. He twiddles with his pen and just keeps on looking, and it gives the viewer time to wonder what he’s thinking.

Even after Nick catches him staring, and Charlie’s eyes flick back up to Nick’s face, it takes Charlie a second to get a hold of himself. Then he tosses his pen at Nick to break the tension. In reality, it’s only seven or eight seconds before Nick looks up and sees Charlie watching him, but in a 22 minute episode, every second counts. It feels like a conscious decision to show that it’s a perfectly normal, wonderful, and exciting thing to be able to simply look at the person you’re attracted to and take the time to savor it.

But of course, the scene that makes me feel Nick and Charlie’s attraction deep in my bones comes next, after Nick tells Charlie he told Tara and Darcy they’re going out. Charlie’s face is a mix of  disbelief and joy when he tackles Nick to the floor. Nick gives Charlie the most bewildered look when Charlie breaks their kiss to ask him if he’s sure he wanted to come out to the girls. When they begin to kiss again, Nick flips Charlie over so Charlie is underneath him, completely wrapped up in him, then dives back in for another kiss.

The viewer doesn’t see a lot of actual kissing in this part of the scene, but the boys’ body language  – Charlie’s arms tightening around Nick’s body, his fists bunched in Nick’s sweatshirt – shows the viewer how different and intense these kisses are. The rest is left to our imagination.

[clareguilty]

Arthur Morgan/reader, desperate sex

Here is my second fic for kinktober! The next should be up on Wdnesday <3

Arthur Morgan/fem!reader | desperate sex, dominant Arthur Mentions of death and injury, mild angst. I made the cowboy cry. Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~2000

“Who goes there?” a gruff voice demanded as you rode up the trail to camp.

“It’s just me, Bill,” you called back, tipping your tattered hat.

“What the hell?!” He blinked and rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe you were right in front of him. “You’re alive?”

You grinned, opening your arms wide. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”

He watched dumbfounded as you rode the rest of the way up to Horseshoe Overlook. You had been gone more than a few days, and your worst fear was that the gang would have packed up and left. The job had gone terribly -- so terribly you had been stranded and lost with no way back -- which was a good reason for the gang to move on to somewhere where the law didn’t know their faces.

But everything was exactly the same. People milled about, scrubbing or packing or chopping. Dutch’s gramophone played on, louder than a dynamite blast and seemingly never ending.

“What in god’s name?” Hosea took one look at you, bruised and battered and covered in every inch of wilderness you had hiked through trying to get back to camp.

“Glad to see y’all are still here.” You groaned in pain as you slid out of the saddle, smacking your ‘borrowed’ horse on the rump and pointing her back to the road. “Go on, girl. Find your way back home.”

The horse slowly headed back the way it came. Hosea was staring at you.

“I know,” you frowned. “I look terrible.”

“No,” Hosea waved his hand, shaking his head. “It’s not that -- though you do look like shit. We thought you were dead. We mourned you.”

It was your turn to look taken aback. “Dead? You gave up on me that quick?”

“Sweetheart.” He gripped your arm as if he was still trying to convince himself you were real. “You fell off a bridge. Those rapids… the rocks…” he trailed off.

You grimaced. “It certainly wasn’t my best performance.”

“There wasn’t any time to go back and look for you, but we weren’t even sure we would have found a body.” He looked ashamed. “We failed you.”

“No,” you took his hands in yours, squeezing. “You did what you had to do. I couldn’t bear it if you had lost someone trying to come back for me.”

Sean was walking by, bottle in hand. He did a double take when he saw you standing there, glanced at his bottle, and then back at you. “You mean Dutch gave that long fancy speech for nothing? You had better not die again.”

You laughed and shot him a wink. “I don’t plan on it.”

Sean seemed satisfied with that response. “Your man’s been a right mess since we lost you. Hopefully he quits moping around all the time now.”

“Arthur?” you glanced around. “Is he alright? Where is he?”

Sean shrugged. “Probably the same place he’s been for a week now.”

You turned to Hosea, desperate. “Where?”

“He’s been at his wagon mostly. I didn’t want him going out in the state he’s been in.”

His words only made you more worried. You had finally made it back to camp. All you had been able to think about -- the only thing on your mind as you clawed your way out that ravine and stumbled through the woods -- was that you had to get back to him. You couldn’t leave him. “Is he hurt? Did something happen?”

Hosea didn’t get the chance to answer. Whispers of your arrival back at camp must have spread fast, because Mary-Beth was dragging Arthur by the arm to where you and Hosea were standing.

“Arthur.” You were running -- as fast as you could move with all your injuries and exhaustion. He finally saw you, freezing in place and staring in disbelief.

You slammed into his chest, flinging your arms around him.

He hesitated before returning your embrace, leaning in to bury his face in the crook of your neck. The two of you stood there for a long while as you sniffled into his chest. Arthur held you tightly, as if you would disappear if he let go.

“Isn’t this sweet,” a familiar booming voice rang out. “Glad to see you alive and well, dear.” You didn’t even turn to look at Dutch. Not when Arthur was clinging to you.

The ground disappeared beneath your feet and you found yourself hoisted over Arthur’s shoulder. The crowd that had gathered around the two of you dispersed as he stalked across camp. The world flipped right side up again as Arthur sat you on his horse, swinging into the saddle behind you and taking off at a full gallop.

You made it to Valentine in record time. The ride was harsh and agitated your injuries, but you didn’t mind with Arthur at your back. He helped you down to the ground and practically carried you inside the hotel, slamming the door open. “A room for me and my wife, please,” he demanded.

The hotel clerk handed over the key. You clung to Arthur the whole way up the stairs, nuzzling against him and just glad to be near him again.

The lock clicked behind you and Arthur… changed. His embrace became more insistent. His eyes darkened. The edge of the bed hit the backs of your knees and Arthur laid you down. It was gentle, but he pressed you into the bed, climbing over you. “Where are you hurt?” he asked.

“It’s not too bad-” you tried to play it off.

He cut you off. “Where. Are. You. Hurt.”

It was terrifying, but thrilling. You shivered under his intense gaze. “My hip,” you grabbed one of his hands and gently lay his palm over your hip. “Makes walking and riding hard.”

He nodded. Clearly waiting for you to continue. “My back is pretty messed up, and my shoulder.”

He noticed the rips and tears in your shirt. All the places you had scraped or torn. His hands went to the buttons, lifting you carefully so he could get you out of the sleeves.

Your trousers were next, slowly pulled down over your hips. When you winced in pain, Arthur stopped to kiss you, cradling your face in his hands.

He stripped you down. His expression was pained as he took in the full extent of your injuries. You had fallen off of the rail bridge and gotten swept into the freezing rapids. The current slammed you into the rocks and swept you down the ravine before you washed up on the bank of the river. From there, it had been a grueling process of making your way out of the ravine and through the woods.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you reassured him. Glancing down, you got a good look at just what he saw. “It does look pretty bad, though,” you frowned.

Arthur’s expression was hard to read. You wondered if he was disgusted by you. It would take a long time to heal, and you knew he might not want to look at you while you were so beat up and battered.

He nearly collapsed on top of you. Luckily, he knew to brace his weight. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breaths ragged.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he gasped. “I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair. “I’m still here,” you promised. “Busted and bruised to hell, but I’m not gone yet, honey.”

He kissed his way along his jaw until he found your lips. It was perfect. You had missed him so much, so worried you would never make it back to him. But now you were here in his arms and kissing him. 

“I love you,” you said as soon as you caught your breath.

“I love you so much, darling.” He hovered his hands just above your skin, too scared to touch you.

You placed your hands over his and guided it to where you weren’t scraped or bruised. “Touch  me,” you begged.

He sighed as soon as he felt your skin against his palms, as if he just needed to know you were really there.

“I need you,” you tried to pull him against you, attempting to slot your hips together. “Please, Arthur.”

He hesitated. You could see the desire in his eyes, how badly he needed you, needed to feel you. But he didn’t want to hurt me. You would have to convince him.

“Arthur,” you grabbed the waistband of his pants. “I fell off a bridge and climbed out of a ravine and walked across half the damn state. I want you to fuck me, and I don’t care if it hurts.”

He seemed dazed, but lust clearly won out as you tried to slide your hand under his shirt. He was undressed in seconds, kissing his way over your neck and unable to keep his hands off you.

The pain was bearable, and you were too distracted with the warmth of Arthur’s skin under your hands. You couldn’t get enough of him, so glad to be near to him after all of those cold nights in the wild. 

He was impatient, desperate. He wanted all of you at once, and he didn’t know where to start. Now that you had given permission, he wasn’t afraid to take what he needed. And take he did. He sucked a mark into your collarbone before kissing down to your chest. You gasped as his lips found your breasts, teeth scraping along the skin.

“Please,” you rocked your hips.

He got the message, gently pressing your thighs apart so he could stroke your clit. It felt so good. The stretch when he slipped two fingers inside made you cry out. You sighed and pulled him closer, winding your fingers in his hair as he pulled moans and gasps from your lips.

“That’s it,” he said. “Good girl. I wanna hear you.” He doubled his efforts, determined to make you come around his fingers.

You pulled him up for a searing kiss, biting his lip as you came. “Fuck me,” you breathed.

He was just as needy, cock hard and aching against your hips. He grabbed your less injured leg and hooked it around his hip, dragging his cock against your slit. The teasing was going to drive you mad, but luckily he was just as impatient. He sank into you with one slow motion.

He hissed a curse against your skin, lost in the feeling of you around his cock. “God, darling. Need you so bad.”

He didn’t even try to start slow, setting a quick, frantic pace as soon as he began to move. His fingers dug into the bruises on your skin, but you didn’t mind the pain. It only reminded you that Arthur was there, that you had made it home to him.

You were so close, clinging to each other so desperately. You couldn’t imagine what Arthur had been through the past several days. He had truly believed you were gone, he had been in mourning. While you were focused on not getting eaten by wildlife, he was grieving your death.

It made sense why he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, why he sighed so deeply every time his hips met yours. The way he drank the taste of your lips as if he could never get his fill. You gave him everything you could.

The two of you went three rounds that night, fighting through your exhaustion in a desire to be close to one another. You fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms, curled together on the rickety hotel bed.

“I can’t stop seeing it,” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off you. “The sight of you falling off that bridge, the way you just disappeared. It’s kept me awake every night.”

You can see it. The dark circles under his eyes, how haggard and underfed he looks. You can only imagine how broken up he must have been.

“Not tonight,” you leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You have me here, safe and sound.”

[wenclexa4ever]

Personally, I want them to release them one at a time.

I dislike the way streaming services release shows all at once. I also despise the shorter seasons that they do. They have the FULL power to do whatever they want for tv shows. No time slots, no schedule requirements, no bowing to cable tv executives, none of that. They can do whatever they want and yet they’re like. “Let’s do less to make even more profits so we can shove our pockets and private jets full of gullible idiot’s money, and all we have to give them is the BARE MINIMUM.”?!?!?

I hate, hate, hate it. It’s stupid. It’s like they don’t learn. And this isn’t just Netflix, it’s (partly) HBO, paramount, Amazon, and ESPECIALLY Disney!

They pump out garbage that is only meant to satisfy the bare minimum of what people want, and say “Screw you.” To everyone else that wants more than two days of mind numbing content.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming the people who are part of the projects, putting their all into the shows. Because, for the most part, they are forced to work on them less, in some areas, just to fit the narrative/bill and put it out as soon as possible to make their bosses richer. They’re forced to sacrifice their integrity and vision to line their bosses pockets.

I’m not saying everything they put out is garbage, I’m saying that they don’t care about the people that watch them. It’s either only fan service just for money, or put out the content asap, just for money. There’s no love for the craft and putting out the best content they can, not anymore.

The point of the weekly releases was designed to fill time slots of cable television. It shifted from that, while keeping it as an important reason, to keeping suspense and building a “relationship” with the viewers. Generating talk, keeping people interested/engaged, creating theories, fanfiction, news articles, trends, fashion styles, etc. It served as a way to hold people captive (in a good way) and make people feel… full stop. It made people FEEL, for the characters, the situation, the anxiety, the pain, all of it.

The point of it was to build a relationship between the public and the characters/the story. Now? Now it’s just content. Made for nothing more than to generate money and to push agendas and a narrative.

I’m not trying to be political, for the record, that’s not what I want to say. I don’t care about that stuff. The narrative I mean is, “Ruin attention spans, get rid of the relationship with the content, force bad behaviors, and make money for the business.”

Maybe it’s my Autism/OCD, but I need more. I need more world building, I need more story, I need them to take it slower. They should take their time and actually build a story and not just push out whatever they can think up for 8 episodes.

I’m not saying that some shows can’t do it this way. Because there is a few that I think it, mostly, works for. (The Mandalorian, Book of Boba Fett, Obi Wan, (didn’t mean to only mention Star Wars shows, but whatevs.), Halo (although I wanted a couple more episodes, but it worked, mostly. We don’t talk about the scene between MC and her, it shouldn’t have happened, also they shouldn’t have killed her.) haven’t seen season two yet, though, so no spoilers pls.)

Now, Wednesday season 1 (IMHO) was a great show. Like I said, they should have taken more time and built suspense, but it was very good. Unfortunately, I didn’t watch it when it first came out, (took me a year and a half) so I didn’t watch it one episode a week, or all at once. (Idk how they released it.) It took me several months, because I watched it with my family and it was hard to find time together. So I had the suspense and time to process it before each episode.

Once me and my family had finished it, I’ve watched it three more times since. I fell in love with the characters, the universe, the lore (even though that department was kinda lacking), and all that. Then I turned to fanfiction and got even more. Which helped fill in parts of whatever was missing, because they show put out so little.

I long for the days that they would have 20 episodes per season, or even 15. Because those shows were able to fill it with so much more. They were able to actually build a story and not “quick plot device” their way through it. They had to make reasons for things and work stuff out. Not just resolve them, “Because it happened.” Style. (Now, shows have done these things before, but it was less frequent. Now it’s every show, almost.)

Anyways, they should do it once a week. Sorry, I must be in a ranting mood today. You’re the second person I’ve subjected to this today. Sorry.😬

Okay, but would everyone prefer it if Netflix releases Wednesday on a weekly basis like I'm seeing them do with other shows?

Like, it would be so nice to discuss each episode and pick out clues and over-analyze and scream over character interactions. It'll make the fandom stronger, keep people coming BACK to Netflix for however many weeks, and promote the show because people keep talking about it.

Idk, maybe I'm just getting old but I would much prefer one episode at a time so I'm not pressured into binging it and missing a bunch of stuff a lot of people worked really hard on, just to participate in the fandom.

Has Netflix even specified how Wednesday's being released?

[prettytoxicrevolver]

More Than Friends | Jimmy Donaldson

Requested? Nope

Warnings? None?? Maybe??

Summary: You and Jimmy have been friends with benefits to try and get over other people. However, the unexpected happens when you fall for each other.

Word Count: 1,710

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing, a groan escaping your lips as your eyes flutter open to grab it and lazily slide it open.

“Hello?” you answer groggily.

“(y/n)!” you hear Karl’s voice greet you cheerily and your heart stutters.

“Yes?” you ask still only half awake.

“You know you’re supposed to be shooting a video right now?”

“You know my car broke down and I have no way of getting to the shoot right?” you ask and Karl oh’s at your response.

“I can come to pick you up! We’ll make it a mini adventure!” he says and you nod even though he can’t see you.

“Yes please.”

You drag yourself out of bed, getting dressed in a semi-decent outfit, and wait for Karl to pull up. Your nerves had started to get to you, as you bounce your leg unknowingly, sitting atop your doorstep. You watch as Karl’s Tesla pulls up and you make your way over to it.

“Good morning!” he cheers when you get inside.

You had been half asleep the entire time waiting for him but being in his presence was an instant wake-up. Karl always had that effect on you, giving you more energy than you thought you could possibly have.

“Redbull?” he asks, handing you your favorite drink and you gasp.

“You truly are my favorite person.”

The rest of the drive feels quick, your nerves growing for another reason. You hated being late to shoots and had totally forgotten to text Jimmy that your car broke down last night. You prided yourself in being as professional as possible in any job you took even if you were working with some of your closest friends.

When you get to the shoot, Karl leads you to where the boys are shooting and you instantly hear Jimmy’s voice. You and Karl round the corner and watch quietly as he talks.

Your eyes trail over to Jimmy like they’re trained to find him in any room. His eyes meet yours, still speaking animatedly but keeping his stare even with you. You both break when he turns to look at someone else and you feel the same familiar fire spark through you.

When the bit ends, Jimmy’s eyes are back on you as he makes his way over to you. You falter under his gaze, the same one he always pierces you with. As he nears, you try not to let the same shallow breath paralyze you.

“(y/n),” he calls with a cool air about him.

“Sorry I'm late,” you say and he leans down until he’s next to your ear.

“We’ll talk later darling,” he says and your breath hitches.

Before you can respond, Karl bounces over with a bright smile and an explanation on your behalf that your car had broken down.

“Oh! Do you want me to drive you home?” he asks and Jimmy casts a glance at you.

“Nah I can take her man,” Jimmy says and you half want to roll your eyes at the two men but are also grateful for them helping you.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” you smile up at him but all he does is throw a wink at you when Karl turns away.

You and Jimmy Donaldson, infamously known as Mr Beast, had a complicated relationship. In short, he annoyed the fuck out of you. In long, he was your best friend of over 5 years now. You had met him just as he started Mr beast and you had always helped him as much as possible.

Now, you two had a slightly different friendship. Jimmy had been trying to get over his relationship with Maddy, his ex of 2 years. You were trying to get over Karl, a boy you knew was super close to getting a girlfriend and probably had no interest in you at all.

It happened by accident, you were hanging out, discussing your mutual frustration of trying to get over people you couldn’t seem to get over.

“This sucks,” you concluded.

Your arm was on the back of the couch, head propped into your hand. You gazed at your best friend as he nodded slowly. His hand lands on your knee, his thumb slowly rubbing back and forth against the exposed skin.

His touch sends shockwaves through you and you can’t help but shuffle forward at the contact. Your legs end up on top of his, his hand coming up to run down your arm. He takes his hand in yours, pulling you even closer.

In the silence your heads come together, foreheads touching and your heart pounds hard. His lips ghost over yours, electricity pulling the breath from your lungs and silencing any thought you may have had at the moment. When his lips finally connect to yours, a quiet squeak lets out at the contact, shocking you as fire spreads through you.

His hands trail down from your arms to your waist, moving you back until you fall back on the couch. Your arms circle his neck, pulling him in as close as possible. His legs slot perfectly with yours, a satisfied moan leaving your lips.

You woke up the next morning, forgetting the previous night's events. You tried to get up, and upon feeling a weight on your hips everything floods back to you at once. You turn to see Jimmy next to you, his shirtless chest, rising and falling slowly.

When he woke up, the two of you had decided that you didn’t want to ruin the friendship or the work relationship. However, you loved last night's events and wouldn’t be opposed to repeating them again. You had decided on friends with benefits and eventually worked out all the details.

That was a few months ago, and now you both were still in the same situation. You always went to each other when you needed a distraction, advice, anything. It always helped to have someone there for you.

The shoot goes by pretty fast, your mind somewhere else the entire time. You drifted in your thoughts about Karl, how he was perfect, how fast your heart was going when he gave you a smile, everything about him. Your mind wandered around the thoughts of Karl making you miss the look Jimmy had been giving you.

Jimmy couldn’t stop thinking about you. At first, he claimed that he was trying to get over Maddy. It was true, his heart ached at the mere thought of his recent ex-girlfriend but regardless the more time he spent with you, the more his heart ached for a different reason.

Every longing glance, every shared touch, every last word had him reeling for days. He tried to brush it off, claiming he was calm and collected and all you were to him was a friend with benefits. And yet, you were driving him crazy without even knowing it.

“Ready to go?” Jimmy asks and you turn to look at him.

“Anytime,” you say offering a smile.

You bid goodbye to Karl and head towards Jimmy’s car, the two of you in a comfortable silence all the way to your apartment. When you get to the complex, Jimmy parks and you both cast a glance at each other.

“Want to come in?” you ask.

Jimmy nods and the two of you head into your apartment. You head straight for your room, changing into something comfortable. As you do, you tell Jimmy to relax and watch as he takes a seat in the living room. You come back out, clad in a big t-shirt, and shorts that are hidden.

“Hey,” Jimmy calls and you smile lightly making your way over to him.

He pulls you close by your hand, and your legs slot together. His hand slips from yours and cups the back of your thigh, a mischievous smile gracing his lips.

“Hi,” you whisper, a strange sense of electricity flowing through you.

“Hi,” he reciprocates.

His other hand cups your other leg, effectively pulling you in until you’re straddling his lap. Your hands fall onto his shoulders, trailing up and down his chest and your eyes follow the movement. You avoid his eyes, knowing your heart might stop if you make eye contact.

“(y/n)?” he finally says and you look up.

Your eyes gaze into his stunning green ones, your heart stuttering at the look you share. Neither of you says a word, slowly moving closer until his lips are on yours and you’re numb from how fast your heart is going. The kiss is slow, with no urgency or need behind it, just passion and something else you can’t place.

Before you know it, Jimmy stands and you wrap your legs around his waist instinctively. You break the kiss for a moment as he starts to move, but your lips find each other quickly. You end up in your room, landing on the bed with a soft thud, and Jimmy crawls over you slowly.

Your nerves grow as he moves, this time is different than all the other times. Something in the air charged with tension, electricity, and you’re shaking with anticipation.

The issue with being friends with benefits with your best friend is you might end up falling in love with him. Which you seemed to be doing. You couldn’t help it, every night spent together, every day working together, every phone call, text message, everything was sent straight to your heart and your feelings for Karl were gone in no time and replaced with feelings for Jimmy.

“Jimmy?” you whisper and he stops, looking at you.

You try to get out the words, any form of expressing you wanted something different, and suddenly you’re dumbstruck and no words seem to be escaping.

“I like you,” Jimmy tells you.

“You-” you begin.

“I know I said I was getting over Maddy and I was and now I am but that was because of you and now I fell for you and-”

“Jimmy,” you state and he finally looks at you.

“I like you too.”

He smiles, that amazing and perfectly charming smile, and your heart stops. He leans down pressing a long kiss to your lips with no urgency, simple passion making you fall more for him.