#covered in blood. visibly masked | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lordprettyflackotara · 10 months ago

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Till Dawn || Eyeless Jack

Smut, 18+, minors dni. Tw: size kink, overall rough ass sex, unrealistic demon sex, stalking, a sprinkle of cnc, safe word IS in place, obsession, blood, blah blah. all the things. i had to lock tf in to finish this, it’s been sitting unfinished foreverrr. here you go my lovely’s <3

part two is here

part three is here

You were a fascinating creature.

EJ thought so, anyways.

Many years had passed since he had been human, his interest in mortals having previously faded. That engrossment only slipping away further after he had moved into Slenderman’s mansion.

Typically, besides killing for food, (and maybe fun), he never strayed from home.

When Jack wasn’t home, he was never staying. Always passing through.

That was, until he saw you.

Your scent was divine, the demon lurking inside the depths of EJ clinging onto the idea of a tasty snack.

Once Jack had found you, he began studying you from a far.

You weren’t hard to find, the annoyed curses leaving your lips giving away your location easily. You were awkwardly stumbling over your arms full of groceries, struggling to unlock the front door to your tiny home.

Typically EJ wouldn’t have noticed your behavior at all, his animalistic instincts shouting at him to break into the window upstairs. To slide in, waiting for you to get settled. To creep behind you and slit your throat. He could hear your heartbeat, the steady pulse sending adrenaline through his veins. His mouth was beginning to salivate under his mask, his interest now peaked as he observed your life.

You liked your coffee mostly black, with a single sugar cube. You were a night owl, giving Jack plenty to watch as he hid in the shadows of darkness. It occurred to EJ as he watched you join another round of an online game, your thick headset covering your ears, that he hadn’t really thought about what humans did in a long time.

Over the years he had sort of lost the man he once was, forcing himself to view mortals as meals, nothing more. After all, one sensitive vital organ and they’d be dead. Humans were so fragile. They aged so much quicker than he did. Why would he ever get attached?

The thought of a potential attachment hadn’t occurred to him, ever. EJ was content with passing through. He was content with his minimum social interacts with his fellow creeps back at the mansion.

But your scent.

Eyeless Jack grew more and more puzzled the longer he studied you. Why did you smell so fucking good? He had never cared for blood before, wounds not visible on your body anyways. Your pulse was normal, but he heard pulses around him all the time. Including two sets he lived with. Unless he was hunting, EJ had grown accustomed to tuning them out.

What was it about you?

It wasn’t until one night he was perched up in an oak tree, watching you prepare for bed. EJ had never considered himself to be a peeping tom. The female body held no interest to him other than the organs it contained. That was of course, until he saw you changing. You had tugged your shirt over your head, your bare breast bouncing as you pulled down your pants. Your panties were lacey, a material EJ hadn’t touched in ages. For the first time in years, Jack could feel his boner brushing against the fabric of his boxers.

You were so innocent, so unaware of his presence. EJ felt heat rush to his cheeks, awkwardly looking around to make sure no one else was looking at you like he was. You were so careless, leaving your curtains open like this. He was sure you figured since you were on the second story no one could see you. Jack liked that idea, him being the only one that could see you like this.

This made him only pay more attention. His attention now was not only on you, but the people you associated with. EJ liked that you mostly had friends and regular coworkers. He had no competition, no problem to deal with. His mind overworked itself trying to come up with realistic scenarios where he could meet you. Where he could feel the heat of your body, his cock buried in your cunt.

Despite Jacks obsession, he knew that the situation wasn’t ideal. His being over 6’5 and having dark gray skin the very least of his appearance issues.

The longer he watched your life, he noticed you were lonely. It didn’t matter how many friends you hung out with, he saw the look on your face deep in the night. The photos in your room of everyone you loved, every single photograph missing yourself. The filthy books you spent your time reading, the romance movies you watched. You needed a lover. Someone to tend to your needs, every dark desire.

He was over the moon when the opportunity presented itself.

Ben had given him a heads up, letting him know a ‘gnarly storm’ was heading the way EJ had recently been camping out at.

Standing in the rain wasn’t ideal for EJ. He didn’t particularly like being wet, the rain beginning to pour down. The thunder clapping and lightning striking was comforting for him, the wetness of the situation, not so much.

It was a usual night for you, your teddy bear wrapped desperately in your arms as you attempted to fall asleep. EJ watched you turn over restlessly, the storm clearly delaying your regular sleeping cycle. His gaze wondered over to the bright pink vibrator charging on your nightstand, his eyebrows raising.

When did he miss that?

It had to have been when he went to hunt earlier. Living off of deer was borderline revolting, his craving for human organs much more prominent. However he knew if he wanted to stay, eating one too many human organs created too much attention. A good chase from the cops taught him that lesson. Took him lots of stitches to heal, ones he had to do himself.

It occurred to Jack in that moment that if he was going to go through on his idea now was the time. He slowly walked down the thick branch of the oak tree, careful not to slip as he approached your window. He crouched down, raising his hand. He tapped on your window with his index finger, the unfamiliar feeling of fear filling him. Would you call the cops? What would you do? He watched you stir in your bed, as if you were internally debating if the noise was real.

EJ waited patiently for the thunder to subside, before tapping again. This time you sat up, your eyes landing on the window. EJ nervously realized this was the first time you were looking at him. He raised his large gray hand, waving at you. Your eyebrows furrowed, throwing the sheets off of you as you approached your window. EJ knew your window was broken, unable to be locked. He noted you pretending to unlock it, before shoving it upwards.

“Can I um, help you?” You asked. The rain droplets were splashing into your dry room due to the wind. EJ didn’t like that. He cleared his throat, trying to sound as non threatening as possible. He knew humans to be sensitive and after all of these years of not thinking twice about his voice, he was thinking about it now. “May I come in? It’s a bit wet out here,” EJ said as calmly as he possibly could. He watched you study him, your eyes fixated on his gray hands.

“I��m n-not so sure that’s a good idea. My brother’s home and I don’t think-” You stuttered, the lies spilling from your lips. Jack didn’t like this. You weren’t a liar. Without touching you, he slid into your room nimbly without a second thought. His drenched clothes were dripping water on the floor, his sights scanning the room up close for the first time.

“Hey! You can’t just barge in here!” You yelled. You stormed over to your nightstand, grabbing a baseball bat with ‘Vikings Middle School’ engraved on it. You rose the bat over your shoulder, swinging it with full intent to hit your intruder. Your eyes widened in fear as EJ caught the bat in mind air, his slender gray fingers wrapped around the metal. He tiled his head to the side, observing you.

First lies and now an attempt at assault. This is not off to a great start.

Jack immediately caught a whiff of your scent, the newly founded fear reeking off of you. And it was divine. EJ pushed the bat aside, taking a step closer to you. “Dont lie to me. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to offer you what you truly want in exchange for shelter from the storm,” EJ said. You were adorable, practically shaking in fear as he towered over you.

“I don’t want money if that’s what you’re offering. I’m not interested-” You began protesting. Jack noted your heart racing, his ears twitching at the delightful sound. He made you nervous. EJ’s dark chuckle cut off your sentence, causing you to stop talking. “Thats not what you truly want,” Jack purred. With another few steps towards you, he had backed you into a wall. With his arms on each side of your head, he slowly rose his knee. With an unseen smirk, he placed his knee between your legs.

A skimpy nightgown rode up your thighs, your face turning a light pink. “You’re lonely, I can fix that. I’ll only stay until dawn,” EJ said. Consciously he made an effort to be gentle as he rose his hand to touch your face. You were softer than he could’ve imagined, the softest silks having nothing on your skin. “I’m n-not-” You stuttered. Your heart was racing faster. It was music to EJ’s ears. “The vibrator sitting on your nightstand says otherwise,” Jack replied cockily.

His new found confidence was evident, your attention fully on him. Finally on him. EJ leaned forward, tilting up his royal blue mask as he leaned towards your ear. His voice was deep and soft, his breath hot as you trembled beneath him. “I promise i’ll make you feel really good,” EJ purred. His words were utter filth, your face flushing with heat. You could feel your core throbbing, your lust for a stranger so dirty but so thrilling.

“What’s your name?” You whispered. EJ was surprised by your question, causing him to lean back and slide his mask back into place. “I’m Jack, but you can call me EJ,” He replied. You toyed with the idea of asking him what EJ stood for, but decided against it. You stood up a little straighter, attempting to take more control of the situation. “Well EJ, if you’re going to fuck me, you better fuck me like you mean it. I want you gone at dawn. Understood?” You asked boldly.

A devious smile was curling up EJ’s lips, his mask blocking the view of his razor like teeth. “I knew you’d give into me, I can smell your arousal,” EJ replied. His gaze traveled down your body, soaking in your cleave that was revealed and your plush upper thighs. As if you could sense his devious thoughts, you pushed at his chest. “Hey i’m not kidding. Be gone at dawn or i’m calling the cops,” You threatened. Jack chuckled, before grabbing both of your thighs.

He picked you up with ease, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. “Gone by dawn. I got it. If you want me to stop say red. Say anything else and I won’t, got it?” EJ asked. He carried you over to your bed, plopping you onto your soft mattress. You audibly whimpered an agreement, staring up at the man in front of you.

“Oh and one other thing,” EJ began, shoving his hoodie over his head. You marveled as his bare chest, his dark gray skin defining his muscles. “Dont freak out,” Jack finished. You stared at him blankly, blinking before he slid off his mask. EJ wasn’t a fan of removing his mask for any reason, not even to his victims. The most he would do is show his razor blade teeth every once in a while. Matter of a fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had removed his mask in front of anyone.

Jack had pondered about what to do about his appearance, the oozing black empty eye sockets something that couldnt be ignored. He figured revealing it immediately would get it out of the way, and based on the way you reacted, he’d know what to do. His obsession with you wasn’t just pure filth or attraction, you smelled absolutely delicious.

He would win in every scenario.

He would know how to make his choice based on your reaction. You were confused, watching as EJ leaned down over you. He pinned you to the bed, your body on fire with desperation. “Scared?” Jack purred, waiting to hear all of the insults he heard in his worst nightmares. You found yourself nervously chuckling, thunder rumbling outside. “Only of not cumming,” You replied in a cocky tone, causing EJ to smile. Surely the unsettling rows of animalistic teeth were going to set you off.

But they didn’t.

Your approval and calmness gave EJ confidence, his lips bringing themselves to yours. He was careful, restraining himself so he didn’t accidentally nip you with one of his teeth. He kept his tongues in his mouth, deciding that would be a surprise for later. He was rough and needy, his lips practically begging yours to respond faster. His hips pressed down lower on yours, his bulge visible and pressed against your clothed cunt.

You tasted like mint, the taste flooding his tastebuds with an intense craving. You bucked your hips upwards, whimpering in his mouth as he grinded against you. “Needy huh?” Jack taunted. He pulled down your night gown, exposing your bare breast to him. He leaned down, placing soft and gentle kisses onto your chest. “I know you aren’t talking,” You teased.

EJ growled into your skin as he lowered himself down your body, prying open your thighs. “Whys that?” He murmured, pressing his chapped lips against your plush inner thighs. You clamped your mouth shut, your hips involuntarily moving upwards towards his mouth. “Dont think I get any play huh? Thats funny, considering you’re practically begging me to touch you,” Jack snickered cruelly. He was relishing and thriving in your desperation, dragging your panties down with his razor sharp teeth.

They poked holes in your thin panties, the shredded clothing being dragged down your legs. EJ couldn’t take his eyes off of your bare cunt, your cheeks flushing a shade of red as the demon above you admired your dripping wet cunt. Jack had seen a cunt before, in his human life and accidentally in his demon one. But yours, yours was a sight for sore eyes.

With his index finger and middle finger Jack spread open your lips, admiring how wet you were for him. “I don’t have all night-” You began complaining, only for one of EJ’s tongues to lick a stripe up your cunt. Electricity shot through your body, causing you to let out a sinful moan. “You do have all night. I have you until dawn. And trust me, you’re going to remember this long after,” Jack said, returning his attention to your aching core.

To your surprise Jack had three tongues, each of them assaulting your cunt is different ways. Two had made their way inside of you, abusing your cunt by fucking you. The other was attacking your clit, stimulating you into a babbling mess. You grabbed his hair, his name spilling off of your lips involuntarily. It was all happening so fast, your body struggling to keep up with the pleasure. Jack couldn’t contain himself, unable to tease you any longer.

Your pussy tasted better than any fucking organ he had ever eaten. You yanked at the roots of his brunette hair, chanting you were going to cum. This didn’t encourage him to slow down, the killer in between your thighs only wanting to make you do it again.

“F-fuck Jack I-I can’t,” You whined, closing your thighs around his head. Jack smirked as he removed one of his tongues from your clit, allowing him to speak. “You know what to say if you actually want me to stop. I think you like this though. I think you like being treated like the whore you are,” Jack panted. You felt humiliated at his words, your walls squeezing around his tongues.

This made EJ chuckle, his gaze now settled on your bright red face. “You like that don’t you? Being a whore for me?” Jack asked mockingly, continuing to fuck you with his tongues. Truth was when Jack had caught you reading the dirtiest of books, he ensured to do his research. To imagine himself being the one to do the things to you like he read in the filth romance novels.

You tried to hold back your unholy moans, biting your lower lip as Jack stared up at you. His third tongue playfully licked across your clit again, causing your hips to jolt upwards. “I asked you a question,” Jack said sternly. His large hands pinned down your waist, prying your thighs open. “Y-yes I like being a whore,” You replied pathetically, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. Jack brought his spare hand to your cunt, drawing quick circles around your throbbing clit.

Your legs began to tremble as an animalistic, low growl left EJs throat. “Whose whore are you? Tell me,” Jack ordered, your walls squeezing around his tongues. You could barely make sense of his words, the ecstasy he was providing you too heavenly. “I’m yours, i’m your whore Jack. Fuck, please make me cum,” You pleaded.

She taste good and can beg? Fuck me.

“Cum for me like the good little whore you are.”

Your legs shook violently and attempted to close as you came, Jacks merciless assault coming to an immediate halt. He watched you ride out your euphoria, slipping his tongues out of your cunt. Your pussy was red and puffy, suffering from the abuse of a demon. He wiped his chin with his hand, crawling up closer to you. Your heart was pounding so loudly it took everything in him for Jack not to tear it out of your chest.

“You’re going to feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock,” Jack growled, sloppily pushing down his pants. He leaned back, lightning flashing as he stroked his cock in front of you. “You sure you can handle me? You seem tense,” Jack asked teasingly. He knew was far bigger than you, your eyes widening at the mere sight of his shaft. “I can handle anything you throw at me,” You say, swallowing to create some moisture in your dry mouth. Your throat and mouth having gone dry from making so many sinful sounds.

Jack smirked as he slowly slid inside of you, his tip alone stretching you out. You whimpered, causing Jack to lean forward. He sank into you slowly, peppering soft kisses on your neck. Purposefully he targeted your more sensitive skin, testing the waters to see which areas made you loosen up more. You clawed at his back, your face scrunched up in pain. EJ studied your face carefully, slithering one of his hands down to your puffy clit. “T-too much,” You babbled, your words beginning to slur. Your hand slid down to grab Jacks wrist, the killer above you not changing his mind.

“Need you loosen up a bit more. You’re doing so good. You can do it for me, yeah?”

His words were like a remedy for your pain, his cock now fully buried inside of you. You pulled your hand away from his wrist, your fingertips brushing over the outline of his cock inside of your stomach. You forced yourself to open your eyes, the sloppy circles Jack was drawing around your clit helping you adjust. You swallowed hard, meeting the gaze of the lust filled demon above you. “You can move,” You whispered. Jacks ears twitched, almost as if he was making sure he heard you right.

“Play with your clit for me while I fuck you,” Jack ordered. You did as instructed, your small fingers trailing down to your abused clit. You drew slow circles as Jack propped himself up, slowly bucking his hips into yours. You let out a loud moan, his cock hitting your g spot. The demons gaze fell down to your womb, his eye sockets widening as he saw the shape of his cock slide in and out of you. “So fucking tight for me,” Jack snarled, picking up the pace.

His thrust were brutal and animalistic, unlike anything you had ever seen before. Or felt before. His pace was relentless, his body not seeming to tire. “Jack!” You cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck. He brought you into a sloppy kiss, struggling to be careful not to cut you with his teeth as he fucked you. “You feel so much better than I thought you’d feel. Fuck,” EJ groaned into your mouth, losing his control.

One of his teeth nicked your lower lip, a small tinkle of red crimson blood dripping down your bottom lip. Jack didn’t have time to think, his mouth on yours immediately. But this time, for a different reason. He sucked at your bottom lip as he pounded you, moaning at the taste of your blood. You felt disgusted how accepting your body was of this, your eyes fluttering shut as you allowed him to suck at your lower lip. Jacks orgasm was coming closer, even if he didn’t want it to.

His pace didn’t let up for a second, his body a slave to your pussy. He released your lip with a pop, growling as he felt his orgasm come closer and closer. “I’m going to fucking breed you. You’re gonna be all mine, all fucking mine,” Jack huffed, his control long gone. His gaze met yours, your face fucked out and your moans incoherent. “Cum with me. Cum all over me,” He panted, his orders now weak. Your small fingers were replaced with his own, his slender fingers resuming the assault on your clit.

“Fucking shit, EJ!” You cried out, gripping his arm as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Your walls were milking his cock, begging him for his cum. They were pleading with him to breed your pretty little cunt, to make you all his. Your orgasm was all it took, his hips stuttering as he came inside of you. His moans were no longer the human language, his sounds of pleasure reverting back to incoherent growls. EJ panted as he looked down at you, your bottom lip puffy.

Your neck was covered in light purple and brown bruises, his light pepper kisses not as light as he thought. You were fucked out, your body lying limply on the mattress below you. Slowly he slid his cock out of you, your cunt red and puffy from the abuse. EJ watched as a mixture of his and your cum dripped out of you, your breathing slow and heavy. “Y/n?” Jack whispered. He was terrified he had broken you, his gaze landing on the bruises in the shape of his fingers that had littered your soft thighs.

You murmured an audible response, causing Jack to sigh in relief. He looked over his shoulder, the sun coming over the horizon. The storm had subsided, a light spring shower coming down from the sky above instead. You sat up slowly, watching your tall demon lover dress himself. You were dizzy and tired, blinking slowly as he shoved his pants back on. “You don’t wanna stay?” You asked softly, yawning. EJ gave you a cheeky smile, before shoving his mask back on.

“We had a deal didn’t we? It’s dawn,” Jack said. He began to put his hoodie on, your eyes softening with disappointment. Jack could feel his stomach growling, the taste of your blood fueling his desire for a tasty meal. He wanted to stay, but he knew he would kill you if he lost control again. Without thinking he handed you his hoodie, before heading over to the window. You sat there dumbfounded, watching as he gave you a small wave goodbye.

“Don’t worry, i’ll be back,”

3K notes · View notes

halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago

Note

You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !

Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.

Moths Hit the Window

PAIRING: König x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.

A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment.

Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.

If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze.

König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others.

“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!”

“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect.

“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up.

Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.

No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.

“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.

König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child.

This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru.

“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”

The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes.

“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”

Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest.

“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!”

“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”

“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away.

“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!” König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”

You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture.

He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.

Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you, König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”

It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you.

But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt.

You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.

König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”

You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.

Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”

“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”

“Great!”

“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny.

“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone.

Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge.

“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”

“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.”

“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”

Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.

“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”

“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction.

König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”

“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl.

In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.

Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.

But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.

The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.

“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.

König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance.

Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.

“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”

“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”

König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.

“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.”

Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.

Too far.

Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.

You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.

“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.

Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.

Shame that it’s already too late.

Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”

His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.

“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!”

By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience.

—

Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.

Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done.

The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling.

Evolve, or die.

“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”

Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later.

“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.

“Three minutes.”

“...get to it then. We move in five.”

So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants.

“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA.

The Lieutenant is one of them.

Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead.

“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t.

But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact.

Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself.

The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins.

Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.

You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was.

Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding.

Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed.

Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes.

Closer now.

Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide.

Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady.

The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire.

Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock.

Your finger slams into the trigger.

—

You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.

Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself.

Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König.

You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary.

In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing.

Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch.

It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later.

You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure.

There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.

“You are late.” König.

He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone.

Anyone but you, that is.

König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter.

You watch and say nothing—dead-faced.

Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.

“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down.

Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm.

“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?”

Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment.

The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour.

“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”

“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you.

Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”

In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence.

Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up.

It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh.

He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest.

“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.”

The needle pauses and a swift nod is given.

“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.

“Pissed off?” You offer quietly.

“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”

Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.

“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”

“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.”

“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?”

“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”

König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.

“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?”

He freezes, muscles going taunt.

“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?”

Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away.

König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate.

“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”

“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”

“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit.

“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over.

There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side.

And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air.

König kneeled to you and bared himself.

Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this.

There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood.

Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.

The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug.

König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning.

But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.

You were reckless.

Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he.

A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame.

“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears.

König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him.

“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat.

Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English.

Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril.

You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust.

You find none.

“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”

A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening.

He speaks with a whispered confession.

“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words.

Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize.

He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized.

For you to come back to him. His partner.

You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.

König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.

The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths.

This time, you’re the one to gasp.

“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 10 months ago

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Simon is struggling, he can't get off and he doesn't know what to do. As his sergeant you are one of the closest to him and can see something is up. An impromptu visit late one night might just be what he needs... And the way you are suddenly making him bow to your authority and turning his brain off might actually make him come.

Word Count: 6.2 k

Warnings:

Part 2 - Read Here

Lt. Simon Riley is frustrated out of his mind and he’s no longer able to hide it.

Something inside the stoic officer is causing him problems as a recent development makes him unable to reach the finish line when he’s touching himself, a secret that is causing a mental roadblock to his release… and he knows it’s making him a nightmare to be around.

Being his sergeant, the second in command and one of the few people closest to him, you are the first to notice the shift in his personality. Simon Riley has always been a man of very few words, but lately he’s been even more silent when it comes to everyone else, except for you. Every time you two speak he is short and harsh and blunt as if you are getting on his last nerve. It strikes you as strange since you’re not doing anything out of the ordinary from how you’ve interacted before.

Then there is his temper which seems to be on a shorter and shorter fuse these days as a week turns into a week and a half of no change in his attitude. Mix that with the visible tension he is carrying in his shoulders whenever you are near and it’s hard to ignore how drastic things have shifted.

Something is up, though exactly what it is you aren’t sure, but you are curious to find out and nip this shit in the bud so things can go back to the way they were before: you two being able to interact in a friendly manner.

It is the weekend of the nearly third full week this has been going on when you finally decide that enough is enough. The last couple of days he’s avoided you almost exclusively and that is it; whatever it is that has gotten between you is going to be hashed out here and now. Determinedly, under the cover of darkness at this late hour, you make your way to his room with the intention of staying until this entire thing has been fixed.

Simon sits alone in his quarters with his hand shoved into the waistband of his sweats, his hand palming around his cock, stroking up and down in hopes that this will finally be the time his body does what it’s supposed to. Things are progressing fine…that is until he is abruptly interrupted out of nowhere.

There is a knock on his door and it rings through the room; who the hell could be so bold as to bother him at this time of night just when he is about to give this thing another try? Releasing himself, he straightens up his clothing and grabs his mask, putting it on as he stalks over to the door ready to lay into whoever is standing on the other side. He savagely flings it open and immediately he can feel his blood rushing until he can hear his pulse pounding in his ears at who he comes face to face with.

“Do’ya know what fuckin’ time it is?” he questions agitatedly as he stares back into your unwavering gaze.

Nodding in acknowledgement, you try to let his bad attitude slide; your mission isn’t going to be deterred just cause he wants to instantly get pissy. “Are you going to let me in or not?” you throw your own question back at him with a huff.

He weighs his options in silence as you stand in the shadow of his door waiting for him to react and after a few seconds he reluctantly decides that he can’t just keep you waiting outside; he isn’t foolish enough to think that if he just shuts the door that you will go away. There are too many prying eyes that could see something if he doesn’t act and he doesn’t need any of the bullshit that could come from someone catching anything. Stepping aside, he allows you to enter into the room.

“Shut the door,” he barks and you make sure it is secure before turning back to face him. You may have been permitted to enter, but the space right in front of the door is about as far as you can go as his body blocks you from moving in further, keeping you stuck between him and the exit.

“What the hell are ya doin’ ‘ere?” he asks.

Staring back up into his eyes, you survey the curious look through his agitated glare. There is something there sparking in their depths, an unspoken need of something that he is longing for, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. “You’ve been in a mood lately towards me and people are starting to notice,” you admit after a moment. “What’s going on, hmm?”

Simon diverts his gaze from your scrutinizing one. “ ‘is nothin’,” he says hastily, not ready to confess to you the cause of his frustration. It’s not exactly something he wants to go revealing to everyone…especially not to the source of the problem.

Just from his reaction you know it’s definitely not nothing and his lie falls flat without gaining any traction.

“Well something has gotten into your craw,” you say as you lean your back against the door with your arms crossed across your stomach; you can’t move so you might as well get comfortable as you hash this out. “Whatever it is that you think I’ve done that’s gotten you in a foul mood at me, if you’ll just tell me, we can figure this out cause we can’t go on like this; it’s going to affect our work.”

All he wants to do is listen to your words, but his attention is being drawn somewhere else besides your face and it is getting hard to pull his eyes away. Why the fuck did you have to wear that god damn tank top? Christ it’s so tight he can make out the contours of your body without even having to try and at his height all he has to do is look down to have the perfect view of the top of those juicy tits popping out of the top. Not to mention your jeans which look to be painted on to your every curve. There is a stirring in his pants, the first signs of life between his legs. It’s getting harder to tell you that you should go.

“Not exactly somethin’ I wanna talk ‘bout,” he says hesitantly as he adjusts his stance so that the fabric of the long, gray sweatpants he has on won’t reveal anything.

“Come on,” you say, trying to appeal to the small bond you had before all this, “you know you can trust me. All I want to do is figure out what I’ve done so we can move on.”

This isn’t your fault and Simon knows it isn’t fair to put this on you as if it is. As much as he doesn’t want to admit anything, he knows that it will only make things fester more if he doesn’t say something, and all he has right now is the truth. “Ya haven’t done anything,” he denies your culpability in his actions.

“Then what?” You wait patiently for his reply.

He clears his throat. “Look, I’ve jus’ been havin’ a fuckin’ time… Christ… tryin’ to … uh… get off lately,” he grumbles as he begrudgingly admits to his predicament. “Some god damn mental block that’s got me…unable to…”

The sentence trails off with a displeased sigh of defeat, but in all honesty he doesn’t have to keep going; just from that tiny bit of information you can glean what’s going on, why he’s been so on edge, and what he is going to need to fix it.

Simon needs to come.

“Seems like something I could help with,” you say as the corner of your lip upturns slightly at the thought. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I would have come over; it’s not like… you know… we haven’t done things before.”

There is a pause. “Thought we agreed that those were just to let off a little steam and we were just gonna leave it be,” he says in that low, gravely tone that instantly has goosebumps prickling over your skin.

Simon has you there; a couple quick, adrenaline-fueled rounds behind the mess hall after a few high stress missions doesn’t make you two actual lovers, but that also doesn’t mean those meetings meant nothing…or that you would deny any chance you could get to have him again. You just can’t ever say no to him.

Besides, he should know that this is something you would be doing for the greater good, right? A distracted lieutenant could mean trouble for the entire team, not just you. So, if getting him off will keep him from being distracted it is worth it; that’s a good enough reason for you to remedy this.

But how?

There are several things you know about your superior officer and one of them that stands out among the rest in this situation is that he always has to be in control of everything in all aspects of his life. What if you took away some of that power? He says he feels like there is a mental block keeping him from climaxing, what if you just shut off his brain for a bit? Make the dominant become the dominated.

Simon was the one to turn your brain off those times past, perhaps it is time to return the favor. Mental blocks won’t be a problem if he is an overstimulated mess.

With a small thrust you push off the door and stand up to take a few steps closer towards him, drawing the distance between your bodies down to just a few inches. “Don’t you want to feel good, Simon?”

“Don’t know if this is a good idea, luv...” he still tries to deny himself even as he catches a whiff of your scent, that natural musk mixed with your perfume that drove him to lose his head those other times, and the fragrance conjures memories of the past that only make his pulse race more heatedly through his veins. He wants to come and he can’t deny that he wants it with you, but if he gives in and allows you to do this it may only make things worse.

You smirk and shake your head as you reach out to grab playfully at the drawstring hanging down the front of his gray sweatpants, lightly tugging on it so that the fabric puckers up. “That isn’t what I asked, Simon. Good idea or bad, that doesn’t matter right now. Do you want to feel good?”

Fuck, how pent up he’s been and with you standing here enthusiastically pushing to help get him off, how in the hell is he supposed to turn you away when now all he can think about is wanting to fuck you until neither of you can move? He knows this is a bad idea, but is unable to stop himself as gives in to your question with a short bob of his head up and down.

“Jus’ somethin’ ta take the edge off,” he says with a hint of desperation.

“Then let me fix that…my way,” you say as you shove him backwards towards the small sofa you see he has sitting up against the wall a few feet from the door.

Large, greedy hands begin to fill themself with your body before he’s even sat down, but that won’t do. That is still giving him too much authority. Simon is bigger than you and if you want to be the one to dominate this hulk of a man you are going to have to cut off his ability to use his body to his advantage.

“Hands off,” you bark as you take a step away.

You can see the immediate shift in your superior. Simon has seen you work with the new recruits and he knows the way you lead and how it demands respect, but being on the other end of it catches him unprepared on how to react and he stops dead in his tracks.

Giving him a second to calm down you step back in towards him. “This is no longer in your hands as doing it your way hasn’t seemed to work this far. What I think you need is for someone to turn that serious fucking brain of yours off for a bit and that’s what I plan to do. So, here’s how this is gonna go: you are going to keep your hands to yourself and use your words while I play for a bit or I’ll just call it a night and leave and you’ll be back to square one. Understood?”

Simon remains silent, unsure of where his voice has gone as he can suddenly hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. What is happening? In an instant the tables have fucking turned and everything he has known is flipped on its head. He isn’t used to giving away any bit of his control to anyone, especially not like this, but god damn does he have to admit that the visceral reaction he has to the way you are standing firm on giving him orders has his cock twitching as it stiffens.

He doesn’t know exactly what is happening inside him, but he wants you to keep going.

Standing there lost in the assault on his sanity, he isn’t aware you’ve moved until you have your hands under the edge of his mask and holding tight you pull it up off his stark features, discarding it to the floor before grabbing his chin and bringing his head down to make him focus on you again. Suddenly he can’t seem to intake enough air.

“I said, is that understood?” you ask again, with more firmness this time. “I’m gonna need you to say it - out loud.”

He swallows to coat the dryness scratching his throat. “Yes, understood,” he confirms.

You smirk. “Good. Now, take a seat Simon.”

Maybe this is something he needs after all; you’ve barely done anything and yet he’s chomping at the bit to have more. He desperately wants you to stay and he will do whatever it is to make that happen. Taking his seat on the sofa he places his hands on either side of his thighs against the cushion before looking back up at you with those warm, golden eyes expectantly.

“See, I knew you’d be good at this. You’re already doing so well for me just like the good little soldier you are, following my orders perfectly,” you approve and his stomach flutters at your praise.

Those dilated pupils track your form as you step up to the edge of the sofa and grab onto his knees, pushing them apart as you lower yourself down between them. Your eyes look straight ahead to the place you want to start at, that broad area just beneath his shirt.

“I think this needs a bit of attention, don’t you?” you ask as you pull your hands off his knees and bring them up without waiting for a reply.

Your hands splay open-fingered and wide across his chest, palms flush with his muscles as you drag them slowly down the rigid peaks and valleys of his abdomen over the soft fabric of his thin sleeveless undershirt until you can feel his pulse quickening under your fingertips. Reaching the hem along the bottom, you lift it up to reveal the broad girth of his torso: those beefy muscles lightly decorated with a thin layer of hair that travels down into the waistband of his sweatpants, a guiding path straight down to the final object of your mission.

You lean in as you lower your head down and he inhales sharply before holding his breath as soft contact is made from just your mouth with all that toasty, smooth flesh just below his belly button, caressing your lips against him repeatedly until his skin tingles. He jerks under the connection as you stick out your tongue and place the pad against him to run it around the indention right in the middle of his lower abdomen.

And suddenly he is vibrating under your lips as if he has been touched with a live wire. Every single embrace of your mouth leaves him reeling in the heat of pleasure until he feels like a puddle in your capable hands.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans with a hiss as he looks down to maintain eye contact as you move up the length of his trunk with your licking and kissing and biting at his sensitive body, leaving a trail of heat everywhere your mouth touches. He knows you can feel his cock stabbing against your chest as you lean further over his body to get at his sides, but there is nothing to help it now.

Sharp teeth trail deliciously painful across his meaty hips like a razor blade over all that beautiful skin and old scars that are still a little numb and add an entirely new sensation to the mix. His abdominals clench under your bite as he takes in quick, short breaths until he is panting as your yearning mouth latches onto the thick of his hip as you suck in the muscles and bite down. Small grunts echo from his lips as you tease and tease his body until Simon can’t help writhing under you as he gets lost in the way you make him feel.

One of his large hands leaves the cushions involuntarily and palms the back of your head, fingers gathering the strands of your hair in the spaces between them to guide you as you move up his body, but unfortunately for him you are going to have to stop; he’s broken your rule by touching and you aren’t going to continue until he’s been reprimanded.

“What did I say about those hands?” you scold with your lips still against him before you pull away, the immediate lack of pressure making him antsy for you to come back.

Jerking his shirt off his torso to get the damned thing out of your way, your eyes dart around the room in search of something you can use to prevent him from disobeying again and it doesn’t take long for them to land on his leather belt just a few feet away. Reaching and scooping it up, you turn back and immediately hold your hand out to him.

“Sit forward and give them to me. Now.” you demand and Simon is compelled to follow your every word as if he has been placed under a trance, more and more eager to see where this leads.

Quickly you gather his wrists together behind his back and wrap the belt around them, slipping it through the buckle and pulling taut so they are bound together, but not too tight. You set the strap under him so he is forced to sit on the tail to keep him from being able to free himself. Satisfied with his restraints you rise to your feet and move yourself over him, kneeling into the cushion so that you are straddling his lap and sitting on top of his wide thighs, his cock resting between your knees.

“No touching,” you reiterate and he repeats the phrase, desperate to not have you stop again.

“No touching.”

“Good boy,” you say the moniker and hear the second he stops breathing as his eyes glaze over.

Never has anyone ever called him that before so it isn't until this moment that he knows what it's like and it triggers some innate part of his brain that now craves your praise as if he has always been starved for it. If his cock was tenting his pants before, it is nothing compared to now. Keep this up and he may come before he ever gets inside you.

Oh he likes that, does he? you think as you watch him completely fall apart at two silly little words. Best make sure to keep that in your back pocket to use again.

Everywhere you place kisses begins to burn until it feels like he’s on fire by the time you reach his chest and latch your hand around the back of his head, your fingers making the short hair tingle across his scalp. Brown eyes flit down to your lips as if willing them towards his face; he desperately needs to taste them, press his lips tight against them over and over until they are raw.

Yet you won’t give in to his soundless pleas. Denial is making him overwhelmed with the nature of his desire and soon his mouth is aching for you to break and give him what he wants. Instead, you tilt his head away from you so that your lips can connect with the feverish skin of his neck.

The sensation of his pulse racing violently against the skin of your mouth is intoxicating. Knowing that you are the one causing nerve ends to spark to life makes you feel powerful; that strong, stoic man is falling apart at the simplest touch. This must be what it’s like to be at the top and you cannot get enough. Never did you think you would have it in you, but now that you are here you can’t get over the euphoria of it all.

His neck is a mess by the time you’ve finished your work and you release him from under your teeth to lean back and admire how pretty he looks with your marks covering him to the sound of his heavy, ragged breathing. As your sight is drawn back to his eyes, you can see the depth of his desperate need swimming there as his slightly parted lips beckon you towards them.

Leaning against his chest, you bring your mouth closer until the space between your lips is only enough to force you to share air. His cock twitches against your leg as your lips ghost over his, but not giving in yet.

“What do you want?” you ask barely above a whisper.

Simon can feel the warmth of your breath on his lips as you speak and it is driving him insane. The ghost of your kiss can be felt across his mouth until the skin there is burning for you to break the tension. “Fuckin’ kiss me,” he says, his voice husky and dry with a slight rasp at the end.

You catch his gaze and smile with your eyes. “How bad do you need it, Lieutenant Riley? I want to hear the ache in your voice as you tell me just how much you want me.”

Biting his lip, he takes a calming breath that does nothing to the heavy pulsating beat of his heart. “I’m fuckin’ burnin’ alive,” he admits, a tremble in the start of his sentence. “Achin’ something’ fierce to taste ya again just like the last time. God damn ya tasted so fuckin’ good, sweatheart. Fuck, I need ta feel your lips on mine ‘fore I pass out.”

God, he wishes he could break his restraints and get at your lips, but with your combined body weight securing the strap beneath you both there’s no way he can pull it out; he’s been trying, struggling with the leather and getting nowhere.

Your lips are so close he can almost taste you and yet still so far that it physically hurts that they are not on him. He leans in closer, but you are quick to pull back so that he cannot even brush against them. His body squirms under the overwhelming tension of it all as you keep your mouth just out of reach.

“Tell me, because I’m curious,” you ask in a breathy whisper, “do you ever think about us fucking? Have you ever touched yourself to the memory of it?”

Cocky looks beautiful on you and Simon hardly knows what to do with himself. He bites the inside of his mouth in hopes that the pain will force him back from the brink of insanity, but he is no longer sane enough to even register anything other than the hazy euphoria course through his body like wildfire. You could ask him anything at this moment and he is so strung out that the only thing he can do is answer honestly just so you will give him what he needs.

“I…t-think ‘bout ya all the fuckin’ time,” he stammers out. “Don’t even know how many fuckin’ times I’ve stroked to the thought… I could even still remember the way ya feel wrapped around me for a while after, but lately the memory’s faded. That’s why…”

His hesitation drives you to believe that this is something significant. “Keep going,” you demand as your thumb strokes over the corner of his mouth over the remnants of a faded scar that leads down his jaw.

A strong throb through his cock, a product of his pounding heart, makes him choke on his words. “T-that’s why I can’t get off alone anymore,” he grunts through his heavy breaths. “And it has me fuckin’ outta my mind. Thought I’d not get another chance to feel ya again… and so I’ve been strugglin’.”

Now it all makes sense why all his aggression was directed solely at you: he had to be near the one thing he desperately wanted, but he thought he wouldn’t get to have anytime soon. It was eating him alive and he couldn’t relieve any of the pressure from it. Something about the way his needy voice hits your ears causes a stirring between your legs as your clit pulses.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” you praise. “Now, how about we fix that, yeah? Give you a taste of what you’ve been missing.”

The building anticipation is more than enough to kill as you finally break the tension and collapse your lips together with so much passion that his eyes are rolling back in his head as stars sparkle behind his closed lids. You taste a sweet as he remembers and he cannot get enough. Time doesn’t exist anymore as the moist warm air from your breath mixes in his mouth, the urgent connection of your lips making them sting from the friction, the heat between your bodies making him pant.

That mouth of his is insatiable, stealing all the sloppy, frantic kisses that you allow him to have until your lips are burning from the abrasion. He barely remembers his own name by the time you finally pull back from him; all he knows is that you’ve stopped and it has left him feeling so fucking empty.

His eyes beg you to come back to his lips, but you have something planned that might take his mind off the absence of your mouth for just a moment. “Lean forward,” you instruct, “I need to get these pants off of me and I want you to be the one to undo them… with your teeth.”

There is not a moment of hesitation or a word that needs to be said as Simon dutifully complies with eager movements as he leans to rest his forehead against your lower abdomen, his teeth heading straight for the button on the waistband of your jeans. Grabbing onto the fabric, he pulls it into his mouth and secures it with his teeth as he tugs and uses his tongue to unhook the metal before he catches the zipper and pulls the tab all the way down.

You aren’t going to be able to keep this up much longer, not with how you can already feel that familiar warmth growing in the pit of your stomach as a damp heat gathers between your legs. Even in a position of submission he still makes your clit ache and as much as you are edging him, the denial is working on you as well.

Placing your hand on the center of his chest you shove him back down into the sofa so you can remove your jeans painstakingly slow off your legs, doing the same to his sweats before climbing back on top of his lap to again straddle over him so that only a few thin fibers keep you apart. Your panty-covered pussy pushes down against the swollen tip of his cock straining against his boxers and you can feel the precum coating the tip soaking through the fabric as you press even harder over it.

Those thick limbs of Simon’s tense with an overwhelming need to touch, to feel your soft skin under his rough, coarse hands, to cling to all those deliciously full curves and every minute that passes only makes that need grow in intensity. There are no more thoughts, only sensations that overwhelm his consciousness now. You’ve edged him to the brink of insanity; his cock is so hard that he swears he is going to shred through his boxers if you don’t stop. He has to get at you.

You start to roll your hips over him in rhythmic waves, stimulating your clit off his tip until you are both a mess, and he jerks against the leather of the belt keeping him secure as if trying to break free. It’s time; he’s ready to be set loose.

Again you capture his chin in your grip and bring his face in close. “I can see you are trying to break free. What do you want?” you breathe the fierce words onto his lips. “Say it.”

“L-let me touch ya,” he pleads with what little dignity he has left, still struggling against his restraints.

You grind your pussy harder onto the stiff peak tenting his underwear and Simon grunts deep in his throat as his hips desperately rut against you to produce as much friction as he can. “But your groans are so pretty,” you moan as you roll your hips over him again and again. “Maybe I just want to keep you making good music for longer.”

Simon lets his head fall back as his eyes flutter closed; he cannot hold back those deep, guttural sounds that want to escape, summoned from the way you are grinding against him. “Christ baby, I need ta fuck ya,” he groans loudly into the silence with his mouth hanging agape.

Your pathetic little lieutenant, he does look amazing as a whimpering mess.

“You’ve done so good for me, Si,” you smirk, “I think you’ve earned your freedom.”

You get up on your knees and he lifts himself enough that you can wrench the belt out from under him and loosen the strap and he quickly pulls his hands out. They’ve barely been free for more than a few seconds before he is wrapping them around the sides of your face to aggressively drag it in so that he can overwhelm your mouth completely with his, taking the entirety of your lips and pressing his face against yours so hard that it hurts.

“God dammit, I’m gonna fuckin’ fill ya until ya can’t take anotha god damn inch,” he growls as he drives his fingertips into the bulk of your hips as he picks you up, carries you the few feet to his bed, and flips your onto your back to pin your smaller body down to the mattress with his as he crawls over top of you.

Wasting no time he reaches between your thighs and laces his fingers through the seam of your damp panties and rips them to the side out of his way as he shimmies his down just under the curve of his ass so that he can get his cock out.

“Can ya feel how fuckin’ hard I am?” he snarls as he aligns the head of his phallus with your entrance. “Ya see what you’ve done ta me? I’m a god damn mess. Now you’re gonna take it.”

“Yes, give it to me,” you beg, letting your tough facade fall away as you let him take the reins. “Make me take it, all of it.”

He prods against the tight opening as he readies to strike through and with a strong thrust he is inside you down to the base of his cock, the taut stretch around him that molds your walls to his shape nearly making him come just from the pressure alone. His eyes stay locked onto the point where he disappears inside your body as he waits to be able to watch it slide in and out.

“That’s it, baby. Fill me,” you cry out in adulation as that thick, veiny muscle stretches you out wide and fast, the pressure forcing your thighs to clench hard around his hips. Your fingers grip into his shoulder blades as you hold on for dear life, nails digging into his flesh as your body harshly adjusts to accommodate his girth.

Simon is trembling, struggling to regain some composure through the ragged breaths he takes. “God, I missed this so fuckin’ much,” he groans breathlessly and with such need that it gnaws away at your stability. “So tight, so wet, fuckin’ hell…”

It isn’t until he has calmed enough to start thrusting again that he realizes your hands are clinging to his back and now that he is in control again he rips them off and brings them up to keep your wrists restrained above your head, taking the opportunity to violently kiss your mouth and steal your breath away.

“My turn… no touching,” he snarls into your open mouth in mockery of your demands earlier. Two can play at this game and fuck does he want to return the favor.

His rough, hard thrusts shudder through the length of your body, shaking the bed along with you as his hips slam into yours while he punctuates each one with a loud grunt. He thrusts so hard it shoves his cock so deep into you he is nearly hitting the back of your cervix.

“God, ya feel so fuckin’ good,” his voice quavers as the pressure welling deep inside at the base of his spine radiates out through his limbs and threatens to burst at any moment.

It is a glorious mess that he becomes the longer he thrusts, drooling over your body as he can hardly function, going blind and delirious at the feeling of those tight, silky walls sucking him and fluttering around him. Those rough thrusts become more sloppy as his abdominals contract, his full body clenching as he grapples with holding on for as long as possible. The gauntlet of edging you put him through earlier leaves him in agony now.

“Keep your pace and come for me, baby,” you coax him through it. “Be a fucking good boy and come for me. I need to know I’m the one that can make you fall apart.”

Your mind is all static now, so lost on Simon’s cock that you cannot stand it. You are close, so close that it won’t take much more for you to come if he keeps this up and what better way to end this than to make him orgasm from the feeling of your walls clenching around him?

You focus everything on letting go and keeping silent so that the moment it happens he is taken by surprise and he will not be able to brace for it. Thrust after thrust he is trying to hold on to make sure you get yours, but he is losing it fast. Then out of nowhere your body shudders as you cry out and suddenly your body is squeezing him so tight that he can’t stop violently falling over the edge.

A roar is released from within his chest, his body writhing as he holds on to your waist for dear life while he hurriedly pries his cock out of you just as he burst his warm load all over your thighs, coating them in the sticky, milky white fluid. You grab onto his cock to stroke everything out as he trembles and grunts like a wild animal until he is dry and spent and only then do you let him go.

You melt like a puddle into the mattress as he finally pulls himself out from between your legs and falls down beside you, exhaustion flooding his body. Weeks of buildup have finally come to an end with an explosion. He turns to you, vision hazy as he relishes in the ecstasy of his high, and strokes your delicate cheek carefully with his rough fingers.

“Better than your hand, yeah?” you laugh, out of breath and dizzy from the flood of adrenaline and he chuckles along with you.

Simon’s body is still vibrating through the drunken stupor making his mind numb as he leans up onto his elbow as he pulls you against his chest so that he can connect your mouths again in a kiss that feels a lot like a thank you. With his mouth barely broken free of yours, you hear his whisper against your lips.

“I’m gonna need ya to do that again. ‘Cept next time, I wantcha ta fuckin’ make me really beg for it.”

Oh, I think you can definitely do that.

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mychapel-004 · 1 year ago

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FNAF SPOILERS! SCROLL! TALKING ABOUT THE SPRINGLOCK SCENE!

i’ve seen so many people discussing the springlock scene in both negative and positive ways and i think it brings up really cool points about how matthew played that scene and balanced fan expectations with his own characterisation.

i think the discussions around this movie have rlly exposed the disconnect between fanon and canon in fnaf, especially talking abt the core games in isolation, bc frankly in the game universe (ignoring the books) we get Very Little characterisation for William other than the obvious, but Matthew managed to add so much in the way he talks and his body language.

in the reveal scene, we see afton at arguably his peak. in his first scene, he comes off as somewhat demeaning and judgemental until he recognises mike’s name, at which point he seems to have this nervous energy, rushing to cover it up but stumbling slightly, his reaction to the tables being turned even slightly is massive.

this is a man who committed multiple mrdrs in essentially broad daylight, hid the bodies in the most obvious place, and still got away with it, and then kept the crime scene as a trophy of his actions, and an ongoing prison sentence for his victims. he has been in complete control for decades, and is confident that he can deal with any kind of threat quickly. his confidence in his reveal is palpable

it changes when vanessa shoots him. the whole parallel with vanessa and the animatronics is hugely interesting too- how william refers to the animatronics almost endearingly as “kids” when he wants them to obey, how both vanny and the animatronics have an unearned loyalty to him, almost a pseudo-adoption through what he did to them, taking them from their parents and keeping them under his thumb, forever stuck as naive, forgiving, obedient children. vanessa breaking from that control shakes him, but the mask slips back into place almost immediately.

then, he’s outsmarted by the brother of one of his victims, and the child he planned to end next. his pseudo-children turn on him and he can no longer manipulate his appearance or shed his skin to escape. he explodes on them, and his language is incredibly telling that he is being dishonest.

he calls them small, trying to belittle them into submission, even though they are ten feet tall metal animatronics powered by rage. he is grasping at straws to regain control, and failing miserably.

finally, the springlocks go off. the locks in the movie look more like a ribcage, so the first two likely puncture his lungs. they’re slow, and painful, but he doesn’t scream or beg or sob. he grunts and groans, gritting his teeth and only letting out sounds of pain that sound almost involuntary. there is no way in hell he would visibly let himself show weakness or pain in front of these creatures that he believes he has control over. he isn’t brought to his knees until there are eight metal spikes embedded in his abdomen. he doesn’t let the mask fall for even a second, until he literally PUTS THE ACTUAL MASK ON and finally collapses. even then, he’s fighting for consciousness, twitching and writhing with no control over his body. william afton thrives on control, and his soul will not rest until he gets it back.

it’s why he keeps the pizzeria- he always comes back. he can’t help but return to the scene of the crime, putting on his old costume, continuing his killings. he revels in being a constant threat on the horizon. and now, he knows he is going to die, and he knows the suit will bring him back, and noone will be able to get rid of him then. so he puts the mask back on, and waits.

in terms of the sfx- they’re pretty accurate. with stab wounds, you need to leave the knife in the wound as long as possible for best chance of survival, as it stops the blood from escaping. in terms of the springlocks, there wouldn’t be copious amounts of blood as the locks are keeping the wounds filled- which is good because it means a slower, more painful death.

#fnaf #fnaf movie #eden rambles #william afton #matthew lillard #springtrap #five nights at freddy's #fnaf spoilers #idk i thought it was a great scene #ppl just need to manage their expectations of what fnaf 1 Actually Is in isolation #not the years of other media and fandom and lore and theory #we literally saw him get springlocked one time in 8 bit with no audio and four frames. how is this worse in comparison #wanna make another post talking abt how the film explores images vs the reality when you look deeper #specifically abby and her drawings/the drawings at freddys vs mike’s motivation being based on the images he sees in his dreams #and how it’s so perfect for fnaf 1 being a game almost entirely made of just scary images without actually exploring the reality #that these robots are Children and Scared and Lost #tldr the fort scene was necessary

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latenightdaydreams · 9 months ago

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Can you write about Viking!Konig who's the leader of his clan. One time he raids a random village and meets fem!reader, who's beautiful with her hazel eyes and round breasts. Then he takes her as his wife!!!!! Ahhhhh I'm crazy about this. I'm sorry for asking too much 😭😭😭 BTW thank you for accepting my previous request ❤❤❤ love ya so muchhhhh

König is 100000% a boobie man and I will die on that hill😮‍💨 lmao, I LOVE this!!!! Don't ever feel bad for requesting. I'm having a bit of a writers block and this story helped me find my flow again🩷. I hope you're well and taking care of yourself🥰🥰

Viking!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, violence, naughty thoughts

1.0k word count

Part 2 Part 3

You wake up from your slumber hearing the screams from your neighbors in the small village you live in. You rush past your family who is now also scrambling to their feet, your husband rushing to gather himself as your children panic. You open your door slightly to see rooftops on fire and dead bodies lying in the roads.

Quickly, you close the door and turn to your husband with wide eyes, “Callum, it’s Vikings…” Your voice shakes with fear. You’ve heard stories from other villages about their attacks, leaving nothing but death and sorrow in their paths.

“We have to run, grab the children!” Callum whispers loudly as you stand there feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Everyone always assumed this village would be safe, untouchable, but this proved them all wrong.

Rushing to your children, you quickly squat down, “We are going to have to run, as fast as you can, okay?”

The children nod their heads crying, your oldest trying to be brave for you. Just then you all jump as the door is flung open. Screaming, you turn to see three big men and an equally large woman enter your home. An even bigger man, ducks to enter your home. Your eyes go wide seeing him, you’ve heard of the giant Viking man, but you assumed he was more of a myth to instill fear in people.

Using your body to shield your children as you step in front of them, you look to your husband. Callum seems to be frozen in fear, unable to even breathe. There’s a moment where no one moves and it’s quiet other than the sounds of your children crying.

The large man has a mask covering his face, his pale blue eyes are the only part of his face that is visible in the low light in the home. He has an aura about him that could strike fear in any warrior’s heart.

“P-please leave us, we don’t have much.” You speak up, your voice trembling.

The leader turns to two of the other Vikings and speaks to them in a language that you’ve never heard before. They nod and move to my husband, restraining him. He screams and the woman hits him, making you fear for your lives more. You look up wide eyed as the tall man begins to approach you.

König sees the family before him, a man frozen in fear, three children cowering behind their mother, and then their mother… you. A small but brave woman, brave enough to speak up when her husband couldn’t. It makes him impressed, wondering what type of woman could be so bold.

König approaches you with a hungry look in his eyes. His gaze drops down to the way the thin fabric of your nightgown clings to your body. Your breasts are massive and perfectly round, nipples hard and poking through the fabric. König has always loved a woman with large breasts and a little extra. Your breasts looking so perfectly full, his mind begins to wonder if you are still feeding your youngest. Your body is simply perfect for him.

“Name?” König asks in a low voice.

“Leave her alone!” Your husband shouts, trying to protect you. He gets hit by one of the people restraining him.

“I- I’m y/n.” You respond trying to be brave.

The closer he got the more his true size became obvious. The smell of his clothes-stained copper from the blood and his natural musk filled your nostrils. You feel small as he towers over you. His eyes are still wandering your body.

“I’m König.” He says finally.

He feels himself getting lost in your eyes as he takes in the beautiful color. You gaze up at him with the most stunning sage green eyes speckled with golden brown. The most beautiful hazel eyes he has ever seen. Gently he raises a hand to your face and caresses it, leaving a streak of blood behind. Your skin is so soft to his large and rough hand. He can only imagine the rest of you is this soft.

“Is this your husband?” He points to Callum.

“Yes, and these are our children. Please, we are simply farmers. We don’t have much.”

“Hm, I see.” König takes a deep breath and looks down at your breasts again. “Are you still feeding the youngest?”

“Y-yes…” You answer hesitantly wondering what type of question is that.

That is exactly what he wanted to hear. You are not only bold, daring, and beautiful; but also soft, desirable, and can create children for him. This is what he’s been looking for, and he finds you here. Wasting your milk on a weak man’s offspring.

“Perfect, you’ll be coming with me.”

Your jaw drops stunned as you look up at him shaking your head no, “I- I can’t leave my family. My husband-”

“That man? He’s not worthy of you. You deserve more, and I intend on giving it to you. Now please Liebling, don’t fight.”

König steps to you and grabs your arm to pull you away from your children. Your husband begins to yell at König, saying that he can’t do this. He can’t just take you. Your children stand confused, not understanding the whole situation completely while the youngest cries.

“Please, don’t.” You whimper, looking back at your family as he drags you away.

“You’ll be happy with me. You aren’t a farmer's wife, you’re a queen. My queen. Now come.” König scoops you up into his arms bridal style, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of your thighs as he carries you away from your small home.

“Don’t worry, my people will let your family live.” König whispers to you as he walks. His eyes are drifting down your body. He feels the anticipation rising as he begins to walk you back to his clan’s ship on the coast near your village. He wants you in his home, in his bed, undressed where he can enjoy you and gaze into your eyes as he makes you cum. Soon.

Part 2, Part 3

#konig #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #konig cod #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader smut #könig call of duty #könig x y/n #könig x you #viking könig

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bellasfortuna · 7 months ago

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butcher!simon has been on the brain so have a small brainworm i've been sitting on

TW: implied dark thoughts, implied kidnapping, creepy Ghost and leering Johnny, slightly NSFW

When the door to the butcher shop opened, the first thing she noticed was the lack of a chime or bell; instead there was only dead silence and the smell of coppery tang and cleaning solution. The shop wasn't completely silent, there was a small table, only two men, in the very corner of the shop, barely visible from the window outside, crammed in the corner. Their bodies seemed almost too large for the shitty metal chairs they were hunched in, talking amongst themselves.

What drew her eye next was the incredibly large and hulking form of the butcher behind the counter; the man was mammoth sized, blood stained apron around his middle, shirt slightly stained (what was the point of wearing the apron at all if he wasn't going to wear it completely?, she thought absently), sleeves rolling up his biceps unwillingly from the stretch of the muscles and veins there. As she drew closer to the counter, to the hulk of a man, could she even call him a man? his face was covered by a surgical mask and his hair was shaggy and unevenly cut like he'd shorn it himself, dirty blond and messy, a scar peeking out from the corner of the mask to his cheekbone, his form seemed even larger, more imposing.

But what caught his attention, no visual indication or warning, was how utterly uncaring she seemed, having just walked into a butcher shop in a rather seedy part of town, that was well known for how unfriendly the butcher was. Simon had seen the reviews (not that he cared, wasn't his business if whatever tosser passing through thought his service was shite and his shop wasn't friendly, his regularly knew his product was good and his cuts were prime), reviews that should scare off birds that looked like her, that wandered around looking too fragile and soft.

She seemed more interested in looking through the glass case, perusing the cuts he had on display, and for now, Simon was content to just leave her be, she wasn't loud or obnoxious (unlike Johnny in the corner who'd parked his ass there with Garrick for the better half of the morning), and she'd yet to ask any inane questions that would require Simon to have to speak. Just as she looked up, eyes connecting with his, her soft brown eyes colliding with his darker irises, the door to the shop opened again, more forcefully, her mouth shutting and stalling whatever question she'd been about to ask.

If Simon hadn't felt mildly annoyed before, he was certainly annoyed now; he wanted to know just how ignorant the bird was, but his annoyance flared into something darker when the newcomer opened his mouth. While Simon stayed silent as the two argued, he gleaned some information from the brusque conversation. The girl wasn't from here, at least her accent was foreign, as was his, so Simon surmised they were either visiting or had just moved nearby. He hoped it was the former concerning the scrawny shit that was now standing in his shop.

The boy made some comment about how she shouldn't be here alone, he had offered to come with her, yet, she brushed him off easily and said she was more than capable of coming to a butcher by herself and getting what they needed for 'the get-together', as she called it, turning back to look at the counter, saying she had been to more than enough butchers to know what cuts she needed, she hardly needed a second, lesser informed, shadow. Simon doubted this but he found it amusing to hear.

Simon watched with disinterest, the annoyance at the squabble going on before him still festering, but standing with his arms crossed over his chest, muscles tight, hoping they'd be done quicker and his shop would return to peace. For such a soft looking thing, she apparently had a backbone, though Simon would have been far more rude and unwelcoming, if someone hadn't listened to him; he didn't care much when the boy made a comment about his shop being unsafe, how these parts had unsavory people, he wasn't entirely wrong but the world wasn't kind to weak people who avoided all conflict. The boy looked like he'd snap in half if Simon leered at him too hard.

What did catch Simon's interest, was the quickness of her hand shooting up and smacking the boy upside the head, the sound cracking through the butcher shop. "Were you raised in a damn barn?" she barked, face unamused as she glared at the boy. "You don't say shit like that." While the boy looked rather nonplussed and incensed, Simon was definitely very interested now, eyeing her delicate small hand, the sound it had made connecting with his head, the wince it had caused.

He wondered how it'd feel against his face, his cheek, if he could fuck away the anger in her face afterwards, his hands pinning her delicate wrists above her head as he sank into her plush body. She didn't seem to notice his darker gaze as the boy left and she made her order in peace, her voice soft again and cordial. She did at least know what she asked for, not using generic shopping terms,so Simon assumed she was being truthful earlier, and that made something writhe inside him. She'd known what she wanted and she had come to his shop. She didn't notice when he gave her a nicer cut of the deli meats and trimmings she'd requested, a little more than she'd asked and paid for, taking the paper wrapped package with a small smile.

She definitely didn't notice when, as she left the butcher shop, package in her tote bag, Simon nodded his head at Johnny before sharply inclining his head towards the door, the shaggy mowhawked man following behind her obediently. Afterall, a butcher needs the best and what better way than sending his dog.

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comfortscripts · 3 months ago

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A Glimpse Of What I'd Do For You l Coriolanus Snow

Plot - As the First Lady of Panem, it is your duty to protect your husband. Even if it means dirtying your hands. But what is a little blood when the reward is so sweet? Pairing - Young!President!Coriolanus Snow x Wife!Female!Reader Warnings - Heavy plot + light porn. They are both mad, but sweet for each other. Murder/execution with guns, blood, body worship (??), nipple play, toxic language (??), light aspects of oral (fem receiving), softdom!corio. I fully believe he would be a total simp for someone on his wavelength Word Count - 1,288

Check out the rest of my kinktober fics

“Darling, could I trouble you for a moment?”

Words breaking through the tense atmosphere that Coriolanus has cultivated in his private office. Harsh oak furniture, meticulously organised bookcases, swirls of browns and reds with faint hints of a cool gold. The help liked to say the cold of the room matched Mr. Snow’s frozen heart, but even the ruthless President of Panem couldn’t help the way his shoulders relaxed at his wife’s delicate words.

“You are never a trouble,” he spoke with the push of his sturdy throne-like chair against the floor, punctuating his words. “Come in, my snowdrop.”.

The First Lady of Panem was nothing if not obedient. Perhaps that’s why Coriolanus allowed you into his kingdom after six months of marriage.

Wordlessly, you rounded the desk to perch yourself upon his navy-blue-clad leg and perfectly placed a light kiss against his lips. The kind of kiss that tempted him to become entangled in your sweet web regardless of duties. Piercing blues too busy consuming his prize, thinking of all the ways to corrupt his pretty petal. Not even noticing you slide a sleek silver tablet onto the desk.

“I have a gift for you, Corio.”

A glossy black screen stared back at him with a barely visible play button. Those pale digits broke from your waist to start the show before returning to their previous position. He could feel the shift of your body and took close note of how you were biting back a smile.

Suddenly a face that has haunted his dreams appeared: Lucy Gray Baird. Coriolanus could feel the bile rising in his throat at the sight of that traitor. Despite the fact she was strapped to a chair with thick masking tape covering her sickening mouth, he felt uneasy.

“What is this?”

“Freedom. Keep watching, my love.”

The tense grasp on your waist must have been aching, almost as if he was punishing you for showing him this she-devil. But it was soon alleviated as he saw your graceful figure walk into the cell of Lucy Gray. Stark white gown, as pure as snow, standing there inches away from her. Stoic guards either side of your regal stance, part of Coriolanus compared your image to the Queen being flanked by knights on his chessboard staring down a lowly pawn.

“Firstly, I'd like to say thank you, Lucy Gray. If you hadn’t betrayed the only good thing in your life, I wouldn’t have my darling husband. Truly, I appreciate it.”

This wasn’t his snowdrop. Never had he heard your voice that dominant and cold. Part of him preened at the words being spoken, yet he feared what was to come. Who had he married?

“You were very difficult to track down. See, originally, I wanted you gone because I knew he loved you, and I don’t like sharing. But then I found out that you wanted to destroy him. Drive him insane with your silly little tweety songs. And, well, no one can drive him crazy except me.”

Just as his mind caught up with the intentions of your words, a glistening of his father’s legendary pistol came into focus. Pointed between the eyes of the witch who once trapped his heart.

“Goodbye Lucy Gray. No one will remember you, and the Snow family will live forever.”

The bang of the bullet felt like an earthquake, but the image of you, his innocent little petal, with blood seeping into your porcelain dress was enough to silence all thoughts. Screen fading to black as the guards moved to remove the body.

“Did you like my gift?”

It was so small, as if you had made him a cake and were afraid that you’d added too little sugar. This was the wife he knew, and the wife he was growing to love. He always knew you were perfect; that is why he agreed to his marriage, but this was more than he could ask for.

He craved loyalty, obsession, ruthlessness, and compliance. You were everything he would ever need, wrapped in a pink bow. Finally, an equal, someone to love him the way he wished to be loved. Coriolanus would get rid of anyone you wished, and to know he has your devotion makes him feel invincible.

“It may be the best present anyone has ever given me. Let me thank you for it properly.”

Spider-like touches tingled down your spine before feeling the cool air prick your skin as Corio relieved the zip of its job, allowing your dress to pool in your lap. Three abrupt taps on the desk said everything, and within moments, you settled your bare body against the chill of the wood. There was nothing better than feeling his eyes map your body with such hunger. Swirls of lust flush through his eyes as he lightly runs his long digits over the exposed skin.

“Who knew my sweetheart could be so fierce? Those hands weren’t made for killing; they are far too pretty. And who would have expected those callous words to come from such beautiful lips? But you did it for me. Everything you do is for me.”

Standing to attention, he traced the expanse of your collarbone with featherlight touches. Eyes wide watching him in anticipation, every touch made your arousal swell. Never would you rush him; he ruled Panem and your heart. He was your purpose. He was yours. Coriolanus intoxicated you. Faint scents of leather and brandy washed over your senses; the heat of his body against your as he placed calculated kisses against your skin made you dizzy. With so little, he made you feel so much.

A gentle moan fell from your lips as the young president found his mouth on your taunt nipple, carefully flicking the tip with his talented tongue. Oh, how you wish that scandalous mouth was somewhere else right now. His appreciation was felt full force. Those large hands groped at your skin as if he were trying to consume you. Leaving a litter of marks and nips across your chest, as if he were an artist and you, his canvas.

“I would do anything for you, my dear. You gave me freedom from that whore, and all I can think about is how lucky I am to have your love. You are my only obsession. So tell me. Name it, and it is yours.”

A sense of shock washes over you; he has never once asked what you wanted in the bedroom. As with many things in his life, Coriolanus was not open to advice or direction. Images flashed of what you wanted but your tongue tangled as you went to voice it. So caught in the moment, it felt impossible to string a coherent sentence.

“I want- I want you.”

“Be specific, my snowdrop.”

He knew what you wanted. Sinking to the floor as one arm curls around the thickness of your thigh, pulling you closer to his body. That smile told you that he knew, he always knows. Coriolanus wanted to see whether your boldness extended past the video.

“Tell me, Mrs. Snow, how can I please you? You have pleased me so, and I want to show my appreciation, so tell me. Now.”

The feeling of his breath against the wet patch growing on your panties sent a shiver down your spine, feeding the need for his mouth on you. You needed him carnally. Hands wrapped in those icy locks, pale fingers curling inside, and him acting as if he were a man starved.

“I need your mouth- your fingers. Please Corio. Thank me with your mouth. Worship my pussy with those fingers, please, my love.”

Fingers hooking the corners of your underwear, gently discarding the elegant lace. Stormy blues and a haunting smirk told you that he'd be thanking you for hours to come.

“As you wish, my love. I am yours to use, as you are mine.”

A King is only as good as his Queen.

#kinktober 2024 #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth smut #corio snow #kinktober

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vrystalius · 26 days ago

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Hello! How was your weekend? I hope you enjoyed it. Anyway, can I have the upper moon trio (Kokushibo, Douma and Akaza) plus Muzan reacting to having a girlfriend that’s just like or similar to Mitsuri? If it isn’t too much that is.

Upper Moon trio + Muzan having a Mitsuri-like S/O

Bubbly, energetic, sweet and strong— how will the Upper Moon trio and their king react to having such an adorable S/O?

Pairing: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Muzan x gn!human!reader

Kokushibo

He is slightly perplexed by your sunshine-like personality since it differs so greatly from his, and yet, Kokushibo found himself falling head over heels for you for that exact reason. You express your emotions so freely and openly wich makes reading your thoughts so simple. One glance at your flustered face and he immediately knows what is going on in that pretty mind of yours. Your cheerful and bubbly nature counters his silent and cold demeanour, wich is stirring a protector instinct in him.

Holding you on his lap while you speak about as festival you visited and the different snacks you got to try out, Kokushibo quietly worries about how your stomach must be either about to implode or your organs about to shut down on you by the sheer amount of food you are able to eat in one sitting.

Also, whenever you compliment, coo or admire him, Upper Moon One feels like he could confront Yorichii in a fistfight and easily win. Your praises pride him immensely, even if the only visible reaction on him to your praise could be a microscopic smile or his eyes slightly softening. Although your cooing and fussing over him makes him want to curl up in your lap and let you coddle and cradle him for the whole day and night. Even the strongest samurai sometimes need to be loved properly every now and then.

“You are a very odd human. I like it.”

Douma

He absolutely loves your personality! You greatly amuse him with how easily you get flustered and how sweet you are to anything and everyone, unaware of some people’s intentions. Your naivety and innocence is a factor on how Douma fell for you. He thought about how he should charm you, but you simply smiling and batting your lashes cutely at him blanks his mind and he immediately forgets everything he wanted to say to you.

Your strength also greatly impresses him. Although he’s an Upper Moon, Upper Two nonetheless, you can still easily pin him down or do some emotional damage by rejecting his pleads for a cuddle or kiss, even though Douma kind of holds back during play-fights so you can feel even stronger and more confident. Anything to make his little lotus happier!

Sometimes Douma gets too annoyed or tired to keep his mask of emotions on for longer, so he retreats to his private chambers and recharges by having you shower him in affection. “Love transfer” or “Energy transfer” he calls it. With every kiss you plant on his face and lips, his smile keeps growing and growing, until Douma is finally satisfied.

“You’re so adorable, I could eat you right up! No, not literally— unless you’re into that?”

Akaza

First and foremost, Akaza admires your strength and durability, although you do get scared and intimidated easily. He just has to flex his arms a little and you already get discouraged to keep your playfight or training going. Outside of training though, he does get embarrassed when you squish his soft muscle and keep complimenting on his build. Whenever you worry about how could he must be getting due to his barely-covering clothes and his icy blood demon art, Akaza gets extremely flustered and shy about how you seem to care to much about his health, although demons cannot get sick. As far as he knows.

Your bubbly personality confuses him. How can anyone can be this naive and happy? Akaza wonders how you managed to survive in this cruel world on your own, despite knowing you can give out some good ass-kicking. He just thinks that you’re too trusting and good for your own good, especially since you fell for a demon like him. He doesn’t deserve your kindness and love at all but is eternally thankful for it anyway.

Another thing Akaza really loves to do is to watch you eat. It’s comforting to him to share such a human activity with you, even if he himself can’t participate (he tried once before, he got a really horrible stomach ache from just one bite and you had to hold him for the rest of the night), he likes bringing you massive amounts of snacks from all over Japan and sit next to you while you try them all out and describe the flavours to him. He sits there and listens to your animated explanations with a smile.

“How can you be so… soft? You’re too sweet for your own good, do you know that?”

Muzan Kibutsuji

You were quite easy to persuade into marriage it was almost sad to him. Although you are a fragile and rather pathetic human, Muzan found himself falling more and more for your bubbly and sweet nature. You’re incredibly caring, something he usually thinks of as a weakness and way to get extorted by others like him, and it makes him feel at ease whenever you talk to him about literally anything.

Usually he’d shoo his previous wives away or simply execute them when they get too annoying, but with you, Muzan wants to have you near him at all times. He even revealed his demon nature to you and you accepted him with a smile. A nervous smile, but a smile nonetheless.

He likes playing with your emotions in order to get a certain reaction out of you. Muzan’ll bring you beautiful flowers and shower you in the most thoughtful compliments just to see you blush and cover your face in embarrassment. It’s funny to him how easily you get embarrassed by him simply pointing out the obvious: that you are the most perfect being that was blessed to walk the earth at the same time as he did. For once in his life, Muzan thanked the gods for something that was gifted upon him.

Muzan barely shows it, but he does really appreciate the amount of warmness and energy you brought into his life. Surprisingly, with you around, he is much more merciful. Barely targeting and punishing Akaza for failing to murder a random child, more patience for Douma’s antics and Daki’s whining. He does demand some kind of reward for it afterwards.

“Must you always be so cheerful?— It’s distracting.”

(Despite his harsh tone, Muzan is trying to save his imagine of being cold and harsh. Don’t be confused, please continue be as cheerful as you like. It’s like an antidepressant for him.)

💠

I missed writing for my favourite demons </3 I hoped you enjoyed this one! I’m sorry that it took so long :,) I had a lot of fun writing this since I really love Mitsuri and am planning on cosplaying her after Douma!! I hoped I incorporated her traits well.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough <3

Take care of yourselves!!

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luxerians · 17 days ago

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The Last Mask (01)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 01 - An Invitation

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 02

In the dead of night, when most people were asleep, you found yourself running for your life. Your heart pounded violently as you sprinted through the poorly lit alleys. Every turn, every makeshift obstacle you created, failed to shake your pursuers. Their voices cut through the stillness:

“How long do you think you can keep this up?” one of them roared.

“You can’t hide forever, you bitch!” another spat, their words seething with anger.

You didn’t dare glance back. Fear propelled you forward, your mind singularly focused on escape. The narrow alleys, illuminated by flickering streetlights, offered little comfort. You weaved around piles of garbage and shoved a loose dumpster into their path, hoping to buy precious seconds.

But as you rounded a sharp corner, your heart sank. A loan shark was already there, standing in preparation. His eyes locked onto you, and before you could react, his hands gripped you with crushing force.

You screamed and fought to free yourself, but he slammed you to the ground. The rough concrete bit into your skin, and the acrid stench of the alley filled your nose. Panic surged as you writhed beneath his weight.

The others arrived moments later, their pounding footsteps signaling your doom. Their faces were shadows of fury and determination as they descended on you. Hands clamped around your arms and legs, pinning you in place despite your frantic attempts to break free. You kicked, clawed, and twisted, but their grip was unyielding.

“Stop struggling, or we’ll make this worse for you,” one growled, tightening his hold on your arm.

Pain flared through your limbs, but desperation kept you fighting. With one arm freed, you acted on instinct. Your hand dove into the pocket of your trench coat, fingers curling around the cold, heavy handle of the gun you had hidden there.

Shaking, you pulled it out and aimed blindly, squeezing the trigger.

The gunshot shattered the night, its sharp crack echoing off the brick walls. The men holding you jerked back, their grip loosening. You didn’t hesitate. You fired again. And again.

The loan sharks stumbled away in shock, their expressions frozen in disbelief. Some fell immediately, clutching at wounds, while others tried to flee. You kept firing, your trembling hands barely able to control the recoil. The alley became a chaotic blur of noise and motion until the gun’s chamber clicked, empty.

When the chaos subsided, the silence was deafening. You stood amidst the bodies, your chest heaving, your grip on the gun tight. Blood pooled around you, glistening in the faint light, mixing with the filth of the alley. The gun, once a tool of desperation, now felt unbearably heavy in your hands.

In the distance, the wail of sirens began to rise, faint but growing louder. The sound jolted you back to reality. There was no time to think, no time to process what you had done. You had to get out of there.

With a shaky breath, you forced your legs to move. One step, then another, until you were stumbling forward. Exhaustion clawed at you, but you couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when you had a little sister to take care of. You had to keep running. You had to survive.

You managed to flee before the cops arrived. Once you were on the crowded streets of Myeongdong, you tried to act normal and blend in with the bustling crowd. The neon lights and chatter of street vendors offered some cover, but your heart still raced. You tucked the gun deeper into the pocket of your trench coat, making sure its outline wasn’t visible.

You spotted the entrance to the subway station and quickly descended the stairs. The air down there was damp and heavy, filled with the faint hum of trains in the distance. You stood against the tiled wall, and scanned your surroundings. Nobody seemed to be watching you. No signs of the loan sharks, no suspicious figures lurking nearby. For the first time in hours, you allowed yourself a small, shaky breath.

Minutes passed, and just as you started to relax, a presence appeared beside you. You flinched, your body going stiff as if a jolt of electricity had shot through you. Your eyes darted to the side, and you saw him. A man in a crisp, tailored suit. His hair was neatly combed, his shoes polished to a shine. He looked out of place in the dingy subway station, like he had just stepped out of a boardroom. But it wasn’t his appearance that unsettled you. It was his smile. Calm and knowing, as if he’d just uncovered a secret you thought was buried.

“I apologize for startling you,” he said, his voice smooth and measured. “Are you alright?”

You stared at him, your suspicion immediate. Why was this stranger talking to you? What did he want? You said nothing, your silence deliberate. His smile didn’t falter.

“You seem like someone who could use some help,” he continued. His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it, a certainty that made you uneasy. “I have a proposition for you.”

Your shoulders tensed, but curiosity won over your hesitation. “What do you want?”

He reached into his pocket, and you stiffened, but all he pulled out was a square piece of folded red paper. It was a simple Ddakji tile.

“Ddakji game,” he said. “If you win, I’ll give you 10,000 won. If I win, I get to slap you, unless you can pay me 10,000 won. Simple, isn’t it?”

You blinked, taken aback. Of all the things he could have said, this was the last you expected. You wanted to laugh, to ask if he was joking, but his expression told you he wasn’t. The idea was ridiculous, but so was your situation. You were desperate.

“Why this all of a sudden?” you asked, though your resolve was already cracking. The man’s smile widened slightly.

“Because you need the money,” he said plainly, as if reading your thoughts. “And because I think you enjoy a little risk.”

He then pulled out a second one – a blue tile this time – from his pocket. He held the two of them up, waiting for your response. Your mind raced. You had no idea who this man was or why he was doing this, but he was right about one thing: you needed the money. And if losing meant nothing worse than a slap, it felt like a gamble worth taking.

You nodded. “Okay.”

The man nodded to the two tiles. “Choose one.”

You pressed your lips in a thin line before you took the blue tile. It felt heavier than it should. It felt like a proper Ddakji tile, not the D-I-Y one people usually made on a whim. Does he carry these everywhere?

He tossed the other tile onto the floor and stepped back.

“You go first,” he said, gesturing to the tile on the ground.

You crouched down, gripping the Ddakji tile tightly. You’d played this game as a kid, but that felt like a lifetime ago. Now, it felt like everything hinged on this one throw. Taking a deep breath, you raised your hand and slammed the tile down with all your strength.

But it wasn’t enough. The Ddakji tile on the floor barely moved, let alone flipped. You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment as the man’s smile widened.

“A pity. Looks like it’s my turn,” he said, stepping forward and picking up his red tile. From then on, you decided to call him Mr. Suit in your mind as it seemed fitting for someone so strange yet composed.

Mr. Suit crouched down and adjusted his stance before slamming his Ddakji tile onto the ground. The impact was sharp and precise, flipping the tile on the floor with ease. You braced yourself as he stood, stepping closer to you.

Your heartbeat quickened. You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the slap. But instead, you felt a light slap on your cheek. Surprised, you opened your eyes to see him grinning at you, his expression playful.

“Why do you look so surprised?” he asked teasingly. “I wouldn’t be rough on such a pretty face.”

Your cheeks instantly turned red. The compliment caught you off guard, a stark reminder of how long it had been since anyone had said something even remotely flattering to you. Years of overworking had left little room for anything else, let alone romantic experiences. You tried to shake off the flustered feeling, but it lingered.

“Let’s keep going,” he said, handing you your blue tile.

The game continued, and you focused hard on each throw, determined not to lose again. To your surprise, you managed to win a few rounds. With each victory, Mr. Suit handed over crisp bills, his demeanor as calm and collected as ever. By the time you’d played several rounds, you had earned a total of 70,000 won.

In the end, he handed you a card. The card was simple and it consisted of three different shapes with a phone number behind it.

“If you’re interested in more opportunities like this,” he said, “give it a call.”

You looked at the card, then back at him, unsure what to make of the situation. But before you could say anything, he tipped an imaginary hat, turned, and disappeared into the growing crowd, leaving you standing in the subway station in confusion.

You clutched the money and the card tightly, your mind racing with questions. Who was that man? And are there really other opportunities like that? Play a game and you get money? You thought.

You stared at the card for what felt like hours. Its plain design and embossed text had your full attention, though your mind was elsewhere. The same thoughts churned in your head during the train ride home, as you sat in silence with the card in your hand. Even when you finally made it back to your small apartment, you kept looking at it, the questions still swirling.

“Sis, you’re back!” a cheerful voice broke through your haze. Your twelve-year-old sister, Ji-yoo, came bounding into the room. She was all smiles, her hair tied into uneven pigtails. Despite the struggles you both faced, she always managed to stay positive.

“Oh, Ji-yoo,” you said, slipping the card into your pocket and forcing a smile. “How’s school today?”

“Today was fun!” she chirped, her grin widening. “I even learned a new game at school! It’s called Tuho. You’re good at it, right?”

You chuckled. “I do a little. Why?”

“Because I like it!” she said, dragging you toward the small dining table. “My friend showed me how it’s done and I thought it looks fun! Maybe you could teach me. Please?”

Her excitement was hard to resist. “Okay, I’ll teach you but first, help me take out the flowers in the plastic vase in my room. We don’t have a Tuho tong so that will do. For the arrows, we will use chopsticks.”

Ji-yoo’s eyes sparkled in excitement. “Okay!”

For the next hour, you taught her the basics of Tuho. Her laughter filled the room every time she failed to throw the chopsticks into the vase. For a little while, you forgot about the card and the stress weighing on your shoulders. Ji-yoo’s joy was infectious, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying the game.

When the evening grew late, you cooked dinner for the both of you, helped her with her homework and sent her to bed.

“Sis, are we going to visit mom and dad tomorrow?” she asked out of the blue as you pulled her blanket over her chest.

You smiled at her. “Yes, Ji-yoo. After your school, okay?”

Ji-yoo’s smile widened. “Okay! Good night, sis.”

“Sweet dreams, Ji-yoo.”

Once the apartment was quiet, the weight of reality returned. You sat on the edge of your bed and pulled the card out again. It felt heavier now, the simple embossed text almost daring you to act.

Was it really possible? Could you earn money just by playing games? The idea seemed absurd, but then again, so was the day you’d just had. You turned the card over in your hand, staring at the number like it might reveal some hidden secret.

The questions kept you awake long into the night, the card clutched tightly in your hand.

You decided to ignore the card for now. Life had to go on, and you couldn’t afford to be distracted. Your day after that evening returned to their usual grind – two part-time jobs and a constant, gnawing vigilance. You kept a close eye on your surroundings, scanning for any suspicious men. The image of the loan sharks still haunted you, and you knew they wouldn’t let the events in that alley slide. You had killed their men, and there would be consequences.

That late afternoon, you were standing outside Ji-yoo’s school, waiting as the last of the students spilled out into the crisp afternoon air. The playground buzzed with kids laughing and parents chatting. You spotted her instantly. Ji-yoo’s face lit up when she saw you, and she waved wildly, her tiny backpack bouncing with every step as she ran to you.

“Sis!” she yelled, crashing into your arms.

You hugged her. “How was school today?”

She pulled back, grinning. “We learned about space! Did you know Jupiter has sixty-seven moons?”

“Wow, sixty-seven?” you replied, feigning astonishment. “That’s so many, it’s like a whole moon party up there.”

Ji-yoo giggled, slipping her hand into yours as the two of you walked toward the bus stop. She chattered the entire way and you were grateful for it. It gave you something else to focus on, even if just for a moment.

The hospital loomed ahead as you approached. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight those days. Ji-yoo’s steps slowed as you neared the entrance, her grip on your hand tightening. She glanced up at you.

“Are they feeling better today?” she asked softly.

“We’ll see,” you said, squeezing her hand. “But they’ll be happy to see us, for sure.”

Inside, the air smelled of antiseptic and faintly of something floral, like someone had tried to mask the sterility with fake cheerfulness. You navigated the corridors with practiced ease, nodding at nurses you had come to recognize. When you reached their room, you hesitated for a heartbeat before pushing the door open.

Your dad was asleep, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. The sight of him so still sent a pang through you. Faint bruises marked his cheeks and jaw, their muted colors a haunting reminder of what he’d endured. He’d always been the strong one, the one who could fix anything. Now, he looked so fragile.

Your mom, on the other hand, was awake. Her face brightened the moment she saw you both, though faint bruises shadowed her cheekbones and forehead, the discoloration stark against her pale skin.

“Oh, my girls!” she exclaimed, holding out her arms.

Ji-yoo didn’t need to be told twice. She let go of your hand and rushed to her side, throwing her arms around her as carefully as she could.

“Mommy, look! I brought you a picture I drew in class,” Ji-yoo said, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from her bag.

Your mom took it with a smile, studying the scribbled stars and planets. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart. You’re going to be an artist one day.”

Ji-yoo beamed, settling into the chair beside her. You stayed back for a moment, letting them have their moment. Then your mom’s gaze shifted to you, her smile softening.

“Come here,” she said, patting the space beside her on the bed.

You sat down, careful not to disturb the IV line taped to her arm. She took your hand in hers, her fingers cool and fragile.

“How are you, really?” she asked, her voice low enough that Ji-yoo, now engrossed in pulling the white strands from your sleeping father, didn’t hear.

You knew exactly what she was asking. Her question was about everything. Your health, how your day went, and also about the debts. The loan sharks. The weight you’d been carrying alone.

“I’m okay,” you said, keeping your voice steady.

Her eyes searched yours, not quite believing you. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

“I’ve got it under control,” you lied, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You just focus on getting better. That’s what matters.”

“I know this treatment must be expensive,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “How are you going to pay this too?”

You hesitated, knowing she wasn’t wrong. “It’s not something you need to worry about, mom.”

Her grip on your hand tightened slightly. “Don’t lie to me. I know you’re struggling. With the bills, the loans… everything.”

You sighed. “I’m managing. It’s hard, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Figuring it out isn’t enough,” she pressed. “I don’t want you to do anything rash. No matter what, don’t sell your body.”

You nodded. “I know, mom. I could find money in many other ways than that. I just have to… work hard. It takes time. Right now, what matters is you and dad getting better. Don’t worry too much about me.”

She studied your face for a long moment before nodding slowly. The worry didn’t leave her eyes, but she didn’t push further.

Before she could say more, Ji-yoo’s laughter filled the room, drawing both of your attention. Your dad was awake now, a faint smile tugging at his chapped lips as Ji-yoo animatedly pointed to her drawing.

You took a deep breath, letting the moment wash over you. For now, it was enough to be there, together. The rest – the debts, the threats, the impossible weight – could wait until tomorrow or so on.

Two days passed without incident. Then, on a night like any other, you finished your shift at the convenience store and headed home. The walk back to your cramped apartment was quiet. The streets were empty, and for a moment, you let yourself believe you were safe. But the unease in your chest never really went away.

When you got home, something felt off. An envelope was waiting on the floor, just inside the door. Ji-yoo’s soft humming floated from her room, unaware of your arrival or the tension that gripped you. You bent down, picked up the envelope, and tore it open.

Inside were printed images on small sheets of paper. The sight hit you like a punch. It was you, captured in the dark alley that night – firing shots, bodies crumpling, blood pooling beneath them. The photos were grainy but damning.

Your hands shook as you unfolded the letter that came with them. The words were typed, cold and deliberate:

“You owe us. Pay up, or face the consequences. Here are your options: We report you to the police and let you explain these photos. Or we come to collect you ourselves. If that doesn’t motivate you, consider this: your little sister might just inherit your debt. She seems like a strong girl. We’re sure she’d manage.”

Your stomach churned. It wasn’t just a threat. It was a promise. They knew where you lived. They knew about Ji-yoo.

The envelope slipped from your hands, landing on the floor. Ji-yoo’s humming continued, light and carefree, completely unaware of the storm brewing in your chest. You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to breathe. You had to think. You had to act. Most of all, you had to protect her.

Mr. Suit’s words came back to you. He had promised a way out – earn money just by playing games. At the time, it sounded absurd, but now, it felt like your only option. The debt, the threats, all of it had consumed your life. You couldn’t let it take Ji-yoo too.

After dinner, you waited until Ji-yoo was busy with her homework. She sat at the small table, humming softly as she worked. Once you were sure she wouldn’t interrupt, you went to your room and locked the door. The card was in your pocket. You pulled it out and stared at the number on the back. Your hands trembled as you dialed.

The phone rang twice before someone picked up.

“Hello,” a calm, measured voice answered.

You swallowed hard. “I… got your card a couple of days ago.”

There was a brief pause. “Do you wish to participate in the game?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“If you wish to participate, please state your name and birthdate.”

“It’s [Your Name]. I was born on [Your Birthdate].”

“Understood. Tomorrow night, at midnight, be at the bus stop near XXXX. A vehicle will pick you up.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving you sitting there in silence. The phone slipped from your hand, and you stared at the floor. Whatever you had signed up for, there was no turning back now.

The next morning (Saturday), you decided to spend the day with Ji-yoo. When you told her, her face lit up with excitement. It was rare for the two of you to have a day together, and she practically bounced around the apartment, planning everything she wanted to do.

You spent the morning playing games, watching her favorite shows, and laughing at her silly jokes. For a while, it felt normal. The weight on your shoulders lifted just enough to let you breathe.

As the sun began to set, you knew it was time. You sat Ji-yoo down on the couch, your heart heavy.

“Ji-yoo,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I need to go away for a little while.”

Her small face twisted in confusion. “Why? Where are you going?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I have something important I need to take care of. It might take some time, but I need you to stay with Aunt Min-hee for a while. She’ll make sure you’re safe and taken care of.”

Ji-yoo’s eyes filled with questions, but she simply nodded. “Okay. But you’ll come back, right?”

Your chest ached at her quiet acceptance. You pulled her into a tight hug, holding her like you never wanted to let go. “Of course I’ll come back. I promise. And when I do, I want to hear about all the new things you’ve learned, alright?”

She sniffled against your shoulder, then nodded. “Alright.”

You leaned back, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You are a good girl, Ji-yoo.”

Whatever came next, you’d face it head-on. For her and for your parents.

NEXT : Chapter 02

Story Masterlist

I would love to know what you think so feel free to comment as long as you could!

Leave a comment on the masterlist post to be added to the taglist.

#hwang in ho #hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho fanfic #in ho #the front man #player 001 #squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game s2 #front man x reader #front man x you

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ellieslittleslutt · 1 month ago

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I’d Surley Loose Myself 🕷️

MEN AND MINORS DNI!!

spider-woman!ellie

cw: blood, mentions of a fight, wounds, pet names, fluff fluff fluff

a/n: its a short little thing but cute so yeah i hope you like it!!

wc- 0.7k

not proofread!

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dating spider-woman was no easy task. countless nights spent up nervously biting at your nails worried sick about her out there fighting people, the first aid kits scattered around your apartment for when she comes stumbling in. it wasn't exactly for the week. tonight was no exception.

you sat on ellies unmade bed bouncing your knee anxiously, checking your phone every 2 minutes watching each minute go by not knowing what's happening to her out there. in the midst of your worrying you're brought back by the soft tapping on the window snapping your head over to see ellie in her suit mask off with a bloodied nose and cut on her cheek.

jumping up from your position on the bed you quickly open the window for her helping her in, "holy shit ellie you got me worried sick" you say taking her mask setting it down. she just groaned plopping down on her bean bag exhausted "give me shit about it later please? im too tired to be yelled at" she mumbled closing her eaves tilting her head back. you kneeled down next to her eyes roaming over her trying to look for anymore visible wounds "just come to the bathroom let me get you fixed up" your voice still laced with worry, your hands hovering over her body as she gets up ready to support her.

she got up onto the counter while you got her first aid kit out from under the sink laying it out next to her as you placed yourself between her legs her hands on your hips head tilted back. you helped her upper body out the suit leaving her sports bra on so you can get a better look of her injuries. it wasn't anything big only some cuts and bruises scattered around her arms and ribs. "what happened?" you ask softly pouring some disinfectant onto gauze leaning closer gently tapping it onto the bloodied areas. ellie winces softly and hums

“i saw a bunch of police cars parked outside this office and it was some hostage situation... fucker beat the shit out of me.. the police had to come get him off me" her says her voice a bit shaky trying to ignore the sting.

"you have to be more careful ellie... i can't loose you" you whispered your voice shaky as you focused on cleaning her up to distract yourself from the tears slowly filling your eyes. "hey.. look at me" she says softly tilting your chin up "im not going anywhere okay? ill always be here and no ones going to take me away from you she says wiping the tears that run down your cheeks kissing your forehead. you just nodded wiping your nose sniffling "promise?" you ask your voice wobbly. "pinky promise" she says holding out her pinky so you can link it with hers and she places a soft kiss to it only making you want to keep her home away from all the danger out there never wanting to risk loosing her.

leaning closer you wiped the blood from the cuts on her ribcage grabbing the padding and medical tape covering all her wounds.

ellie watched you with low tired eyes her thumb brushing over your hips as a small reminder she's still here to keep you grounded. you really could never loose her, you'd surely loose yourself. after you got her all bandaged and sutured up you helped her get changed into a large shirt and some sleep shorts and waddle back to bed sitting down and helping her under the covers watching her soft features slowly relax into peaceful slumber after the long exhausting day. after putting her to bed you got yourself ready for bed getting into your pajamas and washing your face and brushing your teeth. you slowly got into bed the mattress dipping below you, her suit and some sewing supplies in your lap. you slowly went through the whole suit sewing up every tear and hole making it seem brand new for her, ellie had her head on your chest and arms around your waist while she slept the room falling into a peaceful silence. ellie's soft breaths, the pulling and tug of the thread against the fabric, the rustling of the sheets, it was all so perfect. once you were done you lie down in bed fully turning off the lamp and wrapping your arms around ellie holding her close to you scared that if you let go she'll disappear. lifting your hand to brush back her little baby hairs on her forehead you pressed your lips to her closing your eyes. "i love you"

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#tlou2 #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #tlou abby #abby anderson #tlou ellie #loser!ellie #vi arcane #arcane vi #arcane season 2 #wlw

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redd956 · 4 days ago

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20 Clothing Things in Whump

Pins inside of collars to keep people's chins up and alert

Caretaker's being known only by their eyes due to a medical face mask

Wearing concealing clothes or masks to hide previous scars, open wounds, or visible curses

Face masks, covers, and muzzles to "protect" others from a nonhuman character

Bangles, jewelry, and grandiose decor hanging off of a pet whumpee

A curse that puts a visible marking on the skin, growing in complexity as it continues to spread. New ways need to be found to cover it up, and soothe the pain.

Harnesses that are a little to tight. Corsets that make it a little hard to breathe. Chokers that are way too snug.

Bulletproof armor that is completely pierced through, blood starting to spurt out.

Jewelry that is so heavy it causes its wearer to bow their head or always keep their arms low.

Clothes that no longer fit right, leaving their wearers swimming them. If only they still had the weight.

A soldier screaming from inside their power suit, the disabled electronics unable to let them free.

Whumpee running away from their whumper finds their clothes caught on something.

Caretaker wrestling the helmet off of a slumpt body, to see if they're still breathing.

Wiping blood off of their visor, trying to see the wound they're patching, only to have to wipe again.

A battered and beaten set of armor stumbled its way in, their knees buckling, and the scrap of materials of meeting the flooring cried.

Whumpee successfully escape but now their torn and tattered clothing leaves them exposed to the elements.

Caretaker throwing their jacket onto a hypothermic whumpee.

Jewelry that is sharp enough to cut skin.

Whumpee mopping up their own sweat with removed articles of clothing while undergoing heat exhaustion.

Caretaker pulling back whumpee's hoodie to find chunks of whumpee's hair missing

#whump #whump prompts #whump prompt list #caretaker #whumper #whumpee #creepy whumper #pet whump

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joelsbloodyhands · 2 months ago

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HISTORY, HUH?

Din Djarin x Reader, Boba Fett x Reader (small teaser)

DESCRIPTION: When you get injured by a bounty, Din takes you to Mos Espa to get help from an old comrade. AKA; Din gets jealous when he finds out you and Boba have history.

WARNINGS: Discussions of injuries involving blood, descriptions of jealous behaviour, references to smut 🔞 but not explicitly written, references to gun use (ahem blaster use!), mentions thoughts of torture (just readers imagination), kissing, mentions of panic underwater, Din being clingy af, established relationship with Din, past history with Boba, a sprinkle of angst, unrequited love.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 🚀✨ cover photos from Pinterest

READER does not have a specified gender, they/them pronouns used. Reader is in an established romantic relationship with Din. Reader has parent relationship with Grogu (no gendered title used). Reader does not have a visible disability and has hair long enough to be pulled over their shoulder.

“I know this one,” Boba speaks, his eyes on your unconscious body, focused intently on your pained expression in a deep slumber. Din lifts his gaze, analysing the fellow bounty hunter uneasily. Din’s gloved hand rests instinctively on top of yours, laid flat against your stomach, his eyes darkening behind his helmet, unable to read his comrades face behind his own green weathered mask.

“In what regard?” Din speaks, his own tone scaring him.

Boba’s shoulders relax with a sigh as he looks you over again, “Little troublemaker,” Din hears a hint of playfulness in his words, a hidden note of admiration.

“We’ve crossed paths before. Can’t say I’m surprised to see them in such a predicament,” Boba gestures to your mangled shin and bruised shoulder. “How did this happen?” He asks and Din’s taken aback slightly by his sharp, disapproving tone.

“My bounty. Chased him down an alley, tried to corner him but he had allies. We were cornered and well…they…,” he runs a thumb over the back of your hand, his tone holding a hint of regret, “Well, they stopped him but-“

“Not without injury,” Boba responds, his voice a pitch lower, Din’s head turning once again, apprehending his friend’s sudden anger. Though was Boba’s anger directed towards the bounty or Din himself for putting you in harms way? He couldn’t tell.

“We should get them into the bacta tank immediately,” he lifts his head then, meeting Din’s piercing gaze. Though neither of them could see the others expression, Boba still cocks his head at the mandalorian, a wry smile playing on his lips. “You can trust me, my friend. I have no quarrel with your companion.”

Din hesitates, looking to the end of the room at the large metal windowed casket. “I’d feel more at ease if you explained your history,” he speaks, his head turning back to Boba who adjusts the blaster in his hand almost uncomfortably.

“Not my business to tell. I’d sooner face your wrath than theirs,” he nods to your face again, soft pained murmurs leaving your mouth now. Din squeezes your shoulder very gently, Boba watching him murmur sweet assurances in your ear, his cheeks warming underneath his helmet.

There’s no saying how long the two men stood hovering over your body silently, almost both deliberating how to move you to the bacta tank. Or more so not “how” but “who” would actually carry you there. Din found his hands slipping under your thighs and back, hoisting you against his chest gently, your head falling against the cold metal of his chest piece. You mumbled as he carried you over to the middle of the room. It took a moment for heavy footsteps to follow behind him, a gloved hand tapping buttons to open the glass chamber. Din laid you down into it while Boba watched him, analysing his movements with intrigue.

"If you can hear me, cya'rika," Din softly speaks causing Boba's fingers to stiffen above the control panel, "you are safe. This device should help the healing process. I will be close by. Do not fear. We are with trusted friends.” Din lifts his head almost seeking confirmation for the latter from Boba who nods once firmly. Din takes your hands in his as soft breaths leave your pained lips, he places your hands so that they are overlapping on your chest and then mindlessly taking the breathing mask Boba was holding out to him, placing it over your mouth and nose securely. Din forces himself to pull back from his protective hold against your hands, allowing the capsule to encase your body, filling quickly with the fluid as Boba's configures from the panel.

"How long does it take?" Din asks, his voice weak and rough, his eyes watering at the sight of your body so close yet feeling so far from him.

"Depends upon the injury," Boba starts, his eyes darting between the two of you; the Mandalorian he had come to known as a trusted ally and the trusted ally he had come to know for far more in his heart. "For this injury, perhaps an hour or less. Until then, we can wait in the throne room."

"I will not leave their side," the Mandalorian's words come out thick and unable to be coerced otherwise.

Boba sighs, his eyes back on your injury, the flesh of your ligament already re-growing, "they would not wish for you to stand by and wait. They'll be angry upon awakening if I know anything about their attitude towards injury in battle. There will be an air of shame-"

"It is not THEIR fault," Din argues, feeling an overwhelming sense of grief for allowing this to happen.

"I am not placing blame on anyone," Boba asserts, his voice lowering an octave to indicate to his old comrade that he means no threat. "But as I mentioned before, the...troublemaker and I have history. I know this. They would want you to take care of yourself while the opportunity allows it so that they can heal and awaken when the time is right."

Din shakes his head, his fists clenching, his visor focused solely on you and you alone.

He knows Boba is right.

You never did fare well when you got injured during a bounty hunt. You were self-deprecating, kicking yourself that you could have done better. It took the soft side of Din to convince you that you were good enough to fight alongside him. HIM who you called the best of the best, "a true warrior that I could only long to compare to. The fight is your religion. Your creed has taught you well." With all the sweet words of praise you've whispered to Din both in casual passing and intimately in the dark confines of your shared bunk, Din can only try to offer you the same but where he may excel in battle, he lacks in performance of admiration.

One which he vows to improve upon when you awaken.

"Fine," Din responds just when Boba's defeated steps move towards the large entryway.

"We will wait."

Some time later...

"Din..." you had started, grasping for your second blaster at your thigh. "There's another one-"

You are awaken abruptly with a jolt at the blaring sound of blaster fire colliding in your head. Your eyes widen, stinging and only allowing a fog of vision when you thrash suddenly, your hands thrusting forward, palms hitting a wall that you shove at mindlessly.

You're in water.

Or at least some sort of fluid.

Your movements are slowed. Your eyes blinking uncomfortably. There's some sort of mask over the lower half of your face, allowing air bubbles to escape above you.

You try to calm, your heart beating unsteadily.

One minute you were being shot at, the next you were here.

Where the kriff was Din? Grogu?

You moan out loud, trying to make some noise, your palms attempting to hit the wall blocking you from escaping.

Did they get hurt? Did Grogu get taken? Or were you captured and now laying in some sort of torture device awaiting your inevitable demise? What if Grogu was being dissected and Din was being beaten to death in the next room?

Fuck no. Calm. Calm down.

You close your eyes. Allowing your arms to drop slowly in the surrounding liquid.

Jumping to conclusion. Panicking solves nothing. I think better when I'm relaxed, you tell yourself, slowly but surely letting your fingers graze the surrounding hard bubble finding sharp edges beside your body.

There has to be a way out from the inside, you think.

Just when the panic returns, thoughts of Din hanging unconscious nearby or your sweet son laying on a ice cold table, your finger slips on something square and hard, causing a red light to blare in the liquid and a sudden suction sound to drag all the fluid down from your body. Your hands move quickly then, yanking at the mask over your mouth, the wall that you now realise was a windowed case, slides open. You cough, your hands going instinctively to your abdomen and leg, fingers smoothing over your skin exposed by the gaping rips in your clothing where the shots burnt through.

Healed.

Your eyes widen. Not a single mark of evidence that you were even shot to shit to begin with. Your neck snaps up, your eyes blinking away the remaining fluid taking in the room.

Wait...I know this place. Don't I? That banner.

Two banners hang from the stone ceiling above a large arched entry baring an embroidered signet you're all too familiar with.

"Well fuck," you say out loud, a grin plastering your lips.

You swing your legs off the side of the strange coffin-like device, your eyes overlooking it with a quirked brow. You slip off the side, wobbling slightly on numb legs, pins and needles in your feet as you wiggle your toes to rid of the discomfort.

Your legs carry you drunkenly from the room and under the large moss green banners, allowing one last grin to grace your features. You're not taking any notice of the water staining the stone floor with puddles as you pass through familiar rooms, carrying your fatigued body past a simple throne. You roll your eyes at it momentarily, a smirk on your lips when you stop at the sight in front of you.

Two visors snap to attention in your direction, standing in alarm at your unexpected presence.

“Huh,” you say with intrigue, overlooking the two men opposite each other at a table.

Grogu in the middle stuffing his face with soup, making a squeal of happiness when he sees you.

“This is a sight I never thought I’d see,” you murmur loud enough for them to hear, approaching the table while they both round it, Din more hurriedly than the green armoured man hovering near his abandoned chair.

Your full attention taken by the green bean making grabby hands your way, your smile gracing your features as Din manoeuvres your wet hair from your cheek and tucks it behind your ear.

“Are you well?” He speaks, gaze flashing to Boba whose busy looking over your exposed leg and stomach.

“I am, hey baby,” you soothe when approaching your small son, lifting Grogu from his high chair and bouncing him on your side when he takes your face into his hands, babbling a mix of mando’a and nonsense.

“Yes I’m okay, bean. I feel a lot better now. Please don’t worry,” your head lifts but it’s not Din who catches your attention, it’s the other armoured man, stood to your left, his wandering gaze lifting to your own.

“Boba,” you nod and he does the same back.

“Star-shine,” he speaks back and you don’t miss the way Din’s body turns rigid at the pet name.

You scoff, stifling a chuckle, “can’t remember the last time you called me that.”

Din’s hand slips to your side, gently tugging you further into him, his beskar cold to the touch against your wet skin.

You look up at him in surprise.

Din rarely instigated affection in the presence of others. It was then you realise he hadn’t turned his head from Boba, staring him down through his visor.

You’re distracted by what seems to be the growing tension between both men until you feel softness sliding over your bare shoulders, hands gently tugging the material around your body.

You smile.

“Fennec,” your body turns to meet a familiar grin, hands sliding around your wet hair to pull it over the blanket.

“You caused quite the worry,” she notes with amusement, her eyes glancing between the two warriors and back to you with raised brows.

Your cheeks burn when you realise neither helmet has turned back to you. Though unable to see their expressions, you had a feeling you didn’t need to.

“Din?” You try and sure enough the visor tilts back to you immediately, his stiff body relaxing and moulding into yours again. His fingers clutch your side.

“Mesh’la?” You look down uncomfortably at your wet clothes but before Din can respond, his shoulders lifting in realisation of what you’re asking, another voice cuts in.

“The trunk in your chambers houses some of your wares,” you mentally groan, watching Din’s body stiffen again.

Boba continues without a beat, “I’ll escort you.”

Fennec hides a smile when Din incapacitates.

“We’ll manage,” his hand taking yours possessively and wandering off towards a hallway just behind.

Fennec calls after, “on the right,” watching you both disappear and watching you get dragged into the room with a bewildered expression at the steel back in front of you.

She turns and looks back at the green helmet, dropping his visor from your direction back to her raised brows, “really?”

"It's been awhile," you say without a beat, tugging the long leather jacket over your figure, a shiver running up you while you stand outside in front of the palace.

“I didn’t think you would return,” the aged modulator responds.

Boba turns from his stance in the middle of the path up to the palace gate, his visor focusing in on you.

You allow a small smile to grace your lips as you walk to his side, watching the people of Mos Espa go about their daily markets.

“Not of my own choice anyway,” you tease and smile to yourself when the older man falls silent, his visor back on the market stalls.

Din had gone to fetch the Crest. You had offered to walk the short distance to it just on the outskirts of the town but your still uneasy figure had Din retaliating immediately and with a pressured look at Fennec who stood near the entryway to your room smiling curiously, he ordered her to watch over you while he went to retrieve the ship.

That was only a few minutes ago.

You left Fennec to babysit Grogu much to her narrowed gaze at the small child and her initial refusal. You had stifled an amused laugh when you left them to retrieve some fresh clothes and found her walking him around the palace rooms showing him artefacts from travels and battles. It gave you the opportunity to slip away to get some air. Grateful to have a moments peace since being encased in that tomb you now learned was a bacta tank.

“Thank you, by the way,” you spoke up, noticing the way Boba’s shoulders relaxed slightly under his rigid armor. “You didn’t have to help but you did. I’m grateful and in your debt if you ever need anything.”

“I think we’re past owing each other debts whenever one of us saves the others life. Would you not agree, star-shine?”

You smile slips only momentarily, “you’re angry at me?”

“No,” it comes out rushed and slightly raised. Boba falls silent a moment and you know he’s deliberating the delivery of his words before speaking them aloud. As was his nature as ruler of Mos Espa.

“Star-shine,” Boba spoke and you couldn’t mistake the way it shook slightly.

You turned looking to him.

“I know you are a wanderer. Content with roaming the planets to your own leisure but please do not forget that you have a home here in Mos Espa. In our home.”

He punctured the word “our” and you swear you saw the way his helmet tipped to the silver one you were now well aware of looming behind you silently.

Boba clears his throat, “at least, remember to visit when you have some time. I know Fennec would be grateful to see you. She’s very fond of you.”

You smile.

You understand what he means.

This isn’t about Fennec.

“I’ve missed you too, Boba,” you smile and you watch as his visor turns to the bustling market nearby like before, “and again thank you for answering Din’s distress call.” You turn your head, meeting the silver visor now looking down at you, a gloved hand seeking yours, “and allowing me use of your bacta tank. I know how important that device is for you. You look well.”

Boba turns back then and you notice the way his previously hunched shoulders relax slightly at your informality of which he wasn’t sure he could share with you.

“And you?” Boba inquires, his visor dancing between you and Din. “You are well?”

You are happy and safe with this Mandalorian companion you seek refuge with?

You nod, a peaceful expression on your face as your fingers intertwine with the gloved one tightening in your grip.

“You have history,” Din mentions, trying to seem nonchalant about prying for the information he so desperately needs to know.

You were both back in hyperspace now. The reunion pleasant but short-lived. You felt a small ache in your chest, missing the familiarity of the planet you were speeding away from but there was a relief too being back on the Crest.

“Somewhat,” you respond with a shrug, rocking Grogu to sleep in your arms, his small green hand clutching your shirt.

“He wouldn’t tell me how you knew each other,” Din added, pressing buttons to get the ship into auto pilot.

You smile, “probably didn’t want to upset you.”

Din turns in his chair then, swiftly, his boots stopping the full turn harshly against the floor of the ship as he meets your gaze.

“Did he hurt you?”

You laugh in response causing his cheeks to redden.

“More like the other way around,” you grin.

“Oh, what did he do?” Din asks and you clock the obvious innocent tone he’s implying, knowing full well he’s desperate for information.

You humor him. “Ner kar’ta,” you begin making Din’s heart race at his language gracing your lips, “it’s endearing how much you trust that I wouldn’t harm someone without reason. You truly think me so innocent?”

Din sways slightly in his chair, distracted by your beauty, his lips tugging up mirroring the smirk on your lips.

“To ease you, it was at the start of our relationship. It was how we met.”

You let off there. Not speaking another word, waiting for Din to press you further.

“Tell me,” his words reach your ears, oh so quiet and sweet.

You fight a smile.

“If you must know, I shot him.”

You giggle and Din sits forward with immediate interest.

“Why?” he asks.

You elaborate.

“At the time, I was seeking passage on a supply ship. One of which Boba and his allies choose to infiltrate. Of course he thought me a threat and of course I thought him a common pirate so we had a stand off which resulted in me shooting him point blank in the abdomen. Fennec appeared then. It seemed she saw right through me and stepped between us. She explained that the real pirates were these people that I was travelling with and I agreed to assist them for a price. Enough money for off planet travel to Naboo. She agreed, on Boba’s behalf and much to his rejection might I add. It seems Fennec took a liking to me.”

“A rare thing,” Din adds and you nod.

“So we took control of the ship. It was rather simple. They already trusted me of course. We landed it in Mos Espa and I assisted Fennec with getting Boba to aid. I housed with them for some time. Safe to say we didn’t like each other to start but with time, a sort of friendship happened.”

“And more?” Din asks quietly.

“Are you jealous, Din Djarin?” You ask, causing him to evade your intense gaze, head turning from you.

“I don’t mind if you are. I rather like jealousy on you, ner riduur.”

Din’s head flashes back to you.

It’s the first time you’ve used that term and one Din has yearned for quite some time since you started travelling and establishing a relationship, parenting Grogu between you.

“I just…I know it isn’t my business,” Din sighs, “but I just need to know if-“

“We only kissed, my love. That’s all,” you smile reassuringly.

Din doesn’t like any mention of the fellow Bounty Hunter touching you but his body does relax at the thought of the two of you progressing no further than a brief kiss. Though, the way Boba looked upon you and spoke to you betrayed any thoughts that whatever the older man saw of you was anything far from platonic.

“He confessed his feelings for me,” you add, grinning at the look of surprise you know would be plastered on Din’s face.

“I know I was shocked too.”

Din’s cheeks blaze, he’s always taken aback when you can tell how he’s reacting under his helmet.

Your smile slips, “I felt bad though.”

Din remains silent, knowing there is more to this story that you need to get off your chest.

“I’ve never seen him that vulnerable before. He’s usually so stoic. It wasn’t like I must confess, I have developed feelings for you. You know how he can be all formal and shit, yeah well, nothing like that. He was genuinely all like, shit, I think I’m falling for you. I don’t fucking know why.”

Din shakes his head in shock at what you’re saying. None of it sounds like the bounty hunter he fought alongside at all.

You shuffle uncomfortably, trying not to rouse your sleeping child, “There was a lot of cursing, believe it or not. A lot of pacing, his face was as red as the surface of Dathomir. You had to be there. I told Fennec. She didn’t believe me for a second then apparently he started venting to her in the middle of the throne room while they were waiting on a contact to show up because I was leaving the next morning.”

Din speaks the words that have been eating away at his brain while you’ve been recounting the story to him.

“Did you share his affections?” His voice betrays him, trembling at the last syllable.

“I don’t think so?” Your brows furrow, shaking your head in exasperation, “Did my heart flutter a bit when I would watch him in a fight? Yeah it did. I quite like how stern he can be. Makes me think how different he might be intimately but I don’t know, it just seemed more like curiosity than anything else. I still didn’t feel a want to remain in Mos Espa. I wanted to explore, see the universe. With or without him…it didn’t really matter to me.”

“Do you feel that way about me?” Din eagerly responds.

“No,” your answer is immediate, your eyes fixated determinedly on Din’s visor.

He’s silent when you explain.

“When we met, it was more than finding you hot when you beat the shit out of a bounty or curious about how sexy you looked under that helmet.”

Din’s fingers twitch, adjusting his seating position when his lower half feels like it’s tightening against his armor.

“it wasn’t curiosity. It was genuine desire. That’s the difference. It was the desire to wake up to you every day, regardless of what mood you might’ve been in. I craved your praise whenever you would tell me I did a good job watching over Grogu or when you were teaching me how to shoot. My heart still goes crazy whenever you’re even an inch behind me and I can sense your looming figure above me.”

Din’s heart pounds at your words.

“I am so in love with you, Din.”

Your eyes soften with your words.

Your lips plush as the confession he’s already aware of graces your lips once again. Spoken even more beautifully than the first time you had admitted to him, that the time you had spent together meant far more to you than business.

You wanted pleasure too.

You wanted it from him and in every way that he would give it.

And he’d give you anything you asked.

Din stands, his body gravitating to you, taking a knee before your chair.

You drop your head back, closing your eyes and inhaling sharply when you feel the cool metal touch your forehead delicately.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

You can’t fight back the smile twitching at your lips.

“I desire a life with you, Din,” his heart clenches at your words, his fingers brushing your lower back lovingly.

“And our son and whatever other foundlings you would want with me,” you smile shyly at him and he shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Mesh’la…I know you’re not teasing when you say that and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a desire of mine as well,” your eyes sparkle up at him, surprised by this new information. “But what about seeing the universe? Travelling from planet to planet? Isn’t that what you want before deciding to settle down with me?”

You sigh happily, using your one free arm to slide up past his chest, embracing around his helmet and pulling him closer.

“I’ve seen the universe, Din. I have. I wake up to it everyday. Every time I’m in your arms.” You gaze sweetly through his visor, feeling the way his arms tighten around you.

“Close your eyes.”

An order.

One which you’re more than willing to obey knowing the outcome.

You close your eyes, hearing the sound of metal clattering on the near console before feeling soft lips caressing yours.

!!Bonus Scene!!:

You’re in the cargo hold having since put Grogu to bed, organising food portions in a trunk near Din’s weaponry. You thought the bounty Hunter was busy sat in his flight chair navigating to your next refuge, so it was safe to say you were scared shitless when his modulator sounded close behind you.

“Is he a better kisser than me?”

You smirk but it fades quickly when you turn around to face him towering over you, his body moving closer and crowding you so much your back hits the cold wall of the ship behind you. You take a moment, searching the darkened visor focused on you like prey.

You let a wry smile reach your hot cheeks, batting your eyelashes at him.

“You’ll have to remind me.”

It takes a second for the lights of the ship to go out, plunging you into darkness, a crash of metal against the floor and warm lips meeting yours hungrily.

“Where’s our boy?” He pulls back breathlessly, your heart pacing at the rugged tone of his voice no longer hidden by a modulator.

“In our bunk,” you reply, feeling his ungloved hands on your face, relishing in the feel of his calloused fingers dancing along your jawline. His hands slip down your arms, gently grazing the insides of your wrists making you weak before intertwining your fingers and tugging you back towards the ladder.

“The chair it is then,” Din responds, his hand guiding your lower back now against the ladder crowding up behind you while you remain blind in the dark. His hands taking yours and placing them against the cool metal to guide you up.

165 notes · View notes

ohbo-ohno · 4 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 7 - Biting

Ghost x Soap - 3.3k (on ao3)

summary: Desperate for money, Johnny finds himself in a vampire's lair. (Soap POV)

cw: vampire ghost x human soap, description of drinking blood and other vampire things, discussed sex in exchange for money, drugging

Johnny stands at parade rest in the middle of the room, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically behind his back.

In the military, he’d always had more control of himself, always managed to stand still when he really needed to, if only to avoid pissing off whatever CO was lecturing him that day.

But here, in in a seedy club with music playing so loudly he can feel it in his feet, through his fuck-off mean combat boots that make him a good two inches taller, Johnny can’t force himself to fully relax into his stance. One look at the arrogant motherfucker leaned back in his leather armchair like a king, and Johnny’s hands were clenched so tight he was sure he’d split the skin of his palms with his nails.

Even without knowing who this particular nightclub is run by, Johnny would recognize the man in front of him as a vamp no matter the circumstance. His face is covered by a mask, but there’s no hiding the dull pallor to the skin of his hands, or the bright red of his irises.

“Well?” Graves asks from beside him, and oh Johnny wants to tear the man’s throat out with his teeth. “Whaddya think?”

The man in the chair – Ghost, that’s the name Graves had asked for when he’d dragged Johnny up here – tilts his head to the side, looking at Johnny in the same way a fox looks at a rabbit. He blows a cloud of smoke through the mask covering his mouth, bringing his cigarette to the fabric to take another drag, and Johnny wants to be as far away from this freak as he can get.

“Cute,” Ghost rumbles, stubbing the fag out on the worn leather of his seat. “Don’t know what you brought him up here for, though.”

Johnny swears he can hear Graves grind his teeth. “He asked if we were hiring, and just the other day you were complaining about needing a… well, you know.”

A cold feeling creeps up Johnny’s spine, and the realization that he’s missing something crucial settles over him.

“A personal assistant,” the man standing behind Ghost supplies, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and looking amused. He’s another vamp, his dark skin gray-toned and red eyes bright even under the dark lights. “Isn’t that right, sir?”

Ghost’s eyes narrow for a moment and he drags his gaze away from Johnny’s body and over to the other man, tone unimpressed. “There a reason you’re not doing your job on the floor, Garrick?”

Garrick looks over at Johnny and – bizarrely – winks, smirking. “Saw Graves heading up with a pretty thing, figured I’d see if he was gonna be sticking around.”

Johnny gives Garrick another once over, slotting this new information in his head. If he does get the job here, it won’t be bad to have a friendly face he knows to look for on the first day, so Johnny allows himself a small smirk when he makes eye contact with the other man. Garrick’s expression sharpens, and Johnny can’t help but feel like he’s missing the punchline to an inside joke.

“Get outta here,” Ghost scoffs, waving dismissively and Garrick goes without much more protest. He passes right by Johnny, letting their shoulders brush and pausing by his side.

Johnny does his best not to tense when he hears the other man sniff, chest pressed against his shoulder.

“Got a good one here, Ghost,” Garrick calls, and when Johnny shifts his head just enough to glare at him, he laughs and pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t break him too quickly, yeah?”

It’s only his decade of military experience that keeps Johnny from reacting in any visible way when Garrick gropes his ass on the way out.

“So?” Graves pushes, hands twitchy at his sides in the way all thrall addicts are. “He’s good, right?”

Johnny bites his tongue, his tolerance for being talked about like he’s not even in the room wearing thin. The only thing keeping him here is the number Graves had thrown out when he’d tried to leave the first time. He’s dealt with worse than an egotistical vamp and an addict angling for his next hit for a lot less than what’s on offer.

Ghost sighs and shifts forward, feet planted firmly on the ground and his hands dangling limp between his knees. “He’ll do.”

Graves lights up, darting forward a few more steps before forcing himself to stop, rocking on his heels. “Great! So when can we meet up next?”

Ghost snorts, shakes his head once. “Get out, Graves.”

“But–”

“Out. We’ll see how much he’s worth and talk later.”

Johnny grits his teeth. He’s worth more than both of these fuckers combined, but that won’t pay the rent in his shitty studio apartment.

Graves looks over his shoulder at Johnny, like he’s supposed to say something, then seems to remember that he’s on his own. “C’mon, Ghost, just a sip and I’ll be out of your hair – I won’t even take a full mouthful!”

Ghost is silent, head tilting to the side in a way that somehow feels threatening in the way only true predators can. He doesn’t even have to say a word before Graves is scoffing, head ducked as he turns and strides out of the room.

The room isn’t silent – can’t be, in a building like this – but the air feels stills once it’s just him and Ghost left. Johnny goes truly still now, gripping his forearms tightly and making sure that not a bit of him even twitches.

Ghost’s eyes are locked on Johnny, unblinking. Johnny resolves to wait him out, doesn’t want to make the first move when there’s a chance he’s somehow misjudged what he was brought in for.

“Well?” Ghost eventually speaks, voice low and expectant. “What’re you waiting for?”

Johnny shifts, eyes narrowed on the vamp in front of him. “Graves said you’d pay. I want half up front.”

Ghost snorts, leaning back in his chair and lighting another cigarette. This time instead of puffing it through the mask he pulls the fabric up, revealing thin lips and the scarred skin of his cheeks. His lips are tilted up in a smirk as he takes a puff, calm as can be. “Yeah? ‘Nd how much of my money did Graves promise you?”

Johnny rolls his shoulders back, braces himself. “Ten thousand.”

Ghost’s only reaction is a hum that doesn’t give away any of his feelings, not a part of him revealing his thoughts on the number. It relaxes Johnny a bit, tells him that maybe Graves didn’t just tack on a few zeroes to lure him in more easily.

“For a number like that,” Ghost says, blowing the smoke through his nose. “I’ll expect more than just your blood.”

Johnny shifts his weight, keeping his face flat. He’d known this was a possibility when he came up, knows that drinking blood is a prelude to sex for a lot of vampires. He’d been willing, is willing to do nearly anything for ten thousand dollars. Still, looking at a big brute like Ghost and knowing what he’s asking for makes him tense, makes him feel like he wants to run and never look back.

But this is the closest he’s been to making money in weeks. He can’t afford to run, no matter how much the prey instincts in the back of his head scream at him.

Johnny swallows his nerves as best he can, steels himself and straightens his spine. “Where do you want me, then?”

Ghost takes another puff, letting the conversation stall for what feels like an eternity. He makes no attempt to hide the way he’s looking at Johnny’s body, eyes lingering on his throat and his stomach, where his abs are visible through the sweat-damp white t-shirt that sticks uncomfortably to him.

He doesn’t speak until he’s finished his cigarette, leaving the butt in the ashtray like his first.

“On my lap.”

Johnny doesn’t let himself hesitate, forces his knees not to lock as he takes quick strides forward until he’s standing in front of the vamp, hands still locked behind his back. Ghost doesn’t say a word, even as he hesitates, just watches him from beneath blonde lashes.

“Half up front,” he repeats, heart in his throat.

Ghost snorts, lip ticking up enough to flash fang. Johnny barely resists shuddering, trying not to imagine what those will feel like buried in his throat.

Ghost is still silent as he pulls out his phone, asks for Johnny’s bank details so he can transfer money. He fumbles as he tugs his own phone from his back pocket, fingers shaking just slightly. He’d expected cash, but as long as the number in his account goes up, he’s got no complaints.

It takes a few minutes for them to exchange the right information, then another few for the money to process, and Johnny can’t help but feel awkward as they wait. He can’t bring himself to wish he’d waited to ask for the full price on the way out, though, especially not when he gets his first glimpse of the five thousand new dollars in his account.

“Alright,” he says once he feels like he can speak again, clearing the shock from his throat. He just barely keeps himself from saying thank you, the manners his ma had drilled into him warring with his pride as a grown man about to sell his body.

He puts his phone back in his pocket, instinctually wipes his damp palms on his jeans.

Ghost just watches him from amused eyes, still as relaxed as he’s been since Johnny stepped in the room. He doesn’t speak, just lets Johnny stand there awkwardly.

Johnny huffs after nearly a full minute of this, frustrated. “Well? You gonna take my blood or not?”

He gets the sense that Ghost is cocking an eyebrow beneath the mask, but Johnny can’t see. “I told you where to go. I’m not repeatin’ myself.”

Johnny grits his teeth, blowing a sharp breath through his nose. He wants to crack his neck, then each of his knuckles individually, then maybe his wrists and elbows, but he’s determined to keep what little pride he can during this… exchange, and part of that is pretending he’s not nervous.

So Johnny takes another deep breath, trains his eyes on Ghost’s nose instead of his eyes, and carefully shifts forward and into his lap.

It’s not a smooth thing, not when Johnny is as large as he is and as uncomfortable as he is, but he manages not to fumble too embarrassingly. He settles with his knees on either side of Ghost, stretched wide to accommodate the vamp’s width, and his hands resting on the leather back of the chair.

“Easy,” Ghost rumbles when Johnny stiffens over him, one massive hand coming to rest on the small of his back. The tip of his pinky rests just under the hem of Johnny’s jeans and he can’t quite repress his shiver at the cold fingertip against his heated skin. “You’re fine.”

“I know,” Johnny says through gritted teeth, determined to remain fine through sheer willpower alone.

Ghost makes a sound that verges on condescending, and if the man human Johnny knows he would’ve already broken his nose. ”Relax, then. It won’t hurt.” He stops, tilts his head to force eye contact with Johnny. “Much.”

Johnny bares his teeth in a mockery of a smile, forcing himself to relax one muscle at a time. “I’m not worried about it hurting. Just wanna get it over with.”

Ghost seems to appreciate that, nodding slowly. “C’mere then.”

Johnny fights all of his instincts to let himself be moved, Ghost’s free hand gripping the nape of his neck tightly and guiding his head down. His breaths shudder through his chest as he presses his face to Ghost’s neck, the pale skin cool against his forehead.

“Good,” Ghost murmurs approvingly. “Now don’t move.”

It’s a nearly impossible instruction to follow, but Johnny manages it. He can’t stop the way his fingers twitch when he feels the slick press of fangs to his throat, can’t stop the shiver when he feels a cold breath of air against that same sensitive skin, but he does manage to still himself completely when Ghost presses the tips of his fangs to Johnny’s skin.

He stops breathing, paralyzed in the moment, and Ghost just lets it sit.

Then, the sharp piercing pain of a bite.

Johnny cries out as the first shock of pain hits his system, then bites lip to keep himself silent. It fucking hurts, and he knew it would but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Johnny’s had friends who do this, either for money like him or pleasure like Graves, and while they all mention the pain (how it hurts, then it doesn’t, then you get a hit of venom and all your problems go away), they never mentioned how excruciatingly weird it is to feel someone drinking your blood.

The skin around Ghost’s fangs goes cold first, his stony face pressed to Johnny’s flushed skin and sapping all the heat. He can feel as more warmth seeps from that area, that same icy chill crawling down his neck and through his veins. It completely disables him, leaves him unable to do so much as twitch a finger lest he somehow encourage the terrifying sensation further.

He has no idea how long it’s been before Ghost hums, the low sound rumbling through both of their chests and shocking Johnny back into the moment. His breaths shudder in his lungs as he sits tense and frozen on Ghost’s lap, his heart racing a mile a minute.

Then–

It’s bliss. It’s warm, and soft, and sweet, and Johnny thinks that he’s never felt more at peace in his entire life.

His body goes limp, any hope of holding himself up fading as a blanket is pulled over his mind. Stars dance over his eyes, painting pretty pictures that he coos at and tries to chase with his fingertips. He can’t quite reach them, so he reaches further, pushing against the thing in front of him blocking him from getting any further,

There’s a sound beneath him, something that he can feel through his entire body, and it makes him melt. Suddenly the stars don’t matter nearly as much as getting as close to that sound as possible.

“What’re you doing?” A voice says, but Johnny’s too busy pressing his face to a cold throat to bother listening. “Hm. You’re warm.”

It sounds like a compliment, and as much as he wants to respond, words aren’t something Johnny can use right now so he settles for making a soft appreciative sound.

“All you humans are,” the voice continues, breaths blowing across Johnny’s hair. “Like little furnaces, the lot of you.”

Johnny doesn’t quite know what the man is saying, couldn’t care less as long as it doesn’t impede the serenity he’s found himself basking in. He pushes himself closer to the cold body in front of him, hands resting on its shoulders and face buried in what he thinks is its throat.

“Needy, aren’t you?” The voice asks, and Johnny’s body shifts as it laughs. He can feel the sweat starting to drip down his hairline and he presses even closer, consumed with the cool feeling against his over-heated skin.

“That’ll make the next part more fun,” the voice says, and a moment later Johnny feels his body being shifted for him. Then a cold hand passes down his spine, and oh why didn’t he beg for this before? He’s so hot and the skin against his feels like cool water on the hottest day of summer.

“You’re high as a kite, aren’t you?” The voice asked, and the cold shifts beneath Johnny’s pants. He whines, unsure, and shifts. “Hush. You never had any venom before? Haven’t seen someone drop like this without blood in a long time.”

Were Johnny capable of responding, or even understanding the question, he would say of course I’ve never had venom ye arsehole, I don’t make a habit of gettin’ high and beggin’ vamps like you for another hit. But he can’t say any of that, can’t even really think those words, so he whines instead, arching his back and pushing his ass further against the cool fingers dancing around his hole.

“You’ll be easy to stretch like this,” the voice considers, and Johnny gasps when something slips inside him. “Could probably fuck you now and you wouldn’t even notice.”

That sounds… off, so Johnny whines, squirming in place. The voice just laughs, and Johnny gasps when he feels himself stretched further.

“Calm down, I won’t do it. Not yet, anyway.”

Johnny relaxes, moans and sighs slipping from lax lips as the voice plays with his body. The high doesn’t fade, it keeps him docile and easy as he rides the waves of peace, more than happy to just exist as he is.

“Alright,” the voice grunts after some indeterminate amount of time, cold fingers slipping out of him and shifting to his hips. Johnny whines as he’s pulled away from the throat he was leaned against, the heat coursing through him suddenly becoming so much less manageable.

“Are you gonna cry?” The voice asks incredulously and yes, yes Johnny is going to cry, if the tears welling up in his eyes are anything to go by. On the next blink they streak down his face, blistering against his skin and God he wants the cold back. “Fuck, I can’t wait to watch you do that on my cock.”

Johnny whines, shifting, though he’s not sure why.

“Yeah, you want it too, huh?”

The hands are forcing him down, then, not helping him at all as he slips off the chair and falls to the ground. He groans at the pain jolting from his knees, falls forward into the lap in front of him.

The voice huffs, and the hands disappear.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be a fun one.” The part of Johnny that’s not high recognizes the sound of a belt being undone, but the part of him that’s still floating on another plane of existence can’t even muster the energy to open his eyes. “Alright, open up little human.”

When a thumb hooks over his teeth to force him to follow the order, Johnny doesn’t even flinch. When his mouth is filled with something cold, blessedly cold, he practically falls forward to get more of it.

It feels like ice on his tongue, shocks his sensitive gums enough that he manages to finally open his eyes, some small part of his mind returning to itself.

Ghost stares down at him as Johnny swallows his cock, red dripping down his lips and smeared messily across his chin.

“There you are,” he coos, and Johnny’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when a heavy hand rests on the nape of his neck, one of the hottest parts of him soothed by his ice-cold skin. “Comin’ back up, are we?”

Johnny has just wherewithal to think yes, I am, before Ghost’s hand turns tight against his neck. He’s pulled off the cock in his mouth like a puppet, then forced back down just as quickly, then again, and again, and again.

It doesn’t take long for the facefucking to take what little of his mind Johnny had gotten back, but he finds he doesn’t mind slipping away too much, not when away means all his stress is gone, even just for a bit.

If getting high on Ghost’s venom can make him feel like this, Johnny can understand perfectly how Graves has become what he is. He can’t quite bring himself to be upset with that, either, not with his hot skin being cooled by the vamp above him and his throat solidly used.

It’s easy to let his eyes slip closed, the venom crashing over his mind in another wave, and Johnny floats as he lets his body be used.

#ghoap #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #bo writes #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #john mactavish x simon riley #soap mactavish x ghost riley #kinktober 2024 #kinktober day 7 #ghoap smut #ghostsoap smut #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #kinktober

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sweetblossomsss · 3 months ago

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Behind The Mask || Kang Yeosang

Synopsis: A cold-blooded, masked king appoints you, a new personal servant. He expects obedience—not the stirrings of emotions to his long-buried heart. Your calm and soft presence softens something within him. His most dangerous dangerous battle? Dressing up as a mere guard and the risk of opening his heart to you because he has fallen for you.

Word Count: 20K. Started: 2022est. Finished: Nov. 11, 2024

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, happy ending, angsty, lots of killing, stabbing, blood, death (none main character), Y/N really can't tell he is the guard, very very sweet lovely dovey moments, historic era, smut, one shot, Y/N gets hurt at one point, if I'm missing anything let me know!

Blossom's Note: This story had me twirling my hair as I kicked my feet and all I saw Yeosang saying "blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff." How are my petals? I know its been a while. I'm sorry for disappearing. School and work consumed my time. Yes this story took two years because writers block SUCK and ofc school and work. I hope you all enjoy this story. I hold this story close to my heart. Now without further ado, grab a drink and popcorn and read on!

—

There he was, the one and only cold blooded king, sat upon this golden with different color rare gems, dragon like throne. Draped in the finest silk robe that adorned red and gold outlines of dragons patterns that just exuded majesty.

His long luscious black hair half up while the down part rests in front of his shoulders. His mask, dark blue with intricate golden designs concealed his features, leaving his piercing brown eyes visible through the narrow slits. His fingers accessorized in hand made green and red jade rings.

The room is filled with tension as his courtiers and advisors, who are also dressed in their finest, maintain a distance around him as they flicker their sight from him to the grand entrance of the royal palace. “Bring her in.” His cold voice slices the silence.

The doors opened, walking in was a guard gripping your arm, forcing you to walk into the room as you stumbled trying to keep up. When the guard let go of your arm, you instinctively fell onto your knees and bowed 'til your forehead touched the floor, “Your majesty.” You say greeting him with the upmost respect.

Your disheveled, covered in dirt appearance made you feel ashamed and embarrassed to be in the same room as him. You stayed down until he gave you the commanded. “Rise,” you heard him say. You lift your head up and slowly stand, eyes remaining on the floor. "Look at me."

Your breath hitched when your eyes first laid on him. The way he sat upon the throne was absolutely captivating. You always wondered who was the man behind the mask. “Why are you here?” His voice echoed in the room.

“I-I’m here to serve, Your Majesty.” You stuttered, nervously swallowing. You felt the sweat beads forming on your forehead as he intensely stares at you.

His eyes remain cold. “I was told that you were one of the few who were sold to the palace.” he said, remembering what his advisors told him.

You nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you answered him, feeling your heart pounding up to your ears. “I’m all alone, as I have no family. They told me to either work at the palace or face a worse fate.”

He stays quiet, studying you for a moment before speaking. “My last servant was removed for incompetence,” He said, feeling the color of your face drain, not liking where this is going. “You are appointed to be my new personal servant.”

You widened your eyes, hesitant before speaking up., taking a small step forward. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid that I do not know how to perform such task properly. I'm afraid I cannot-”

An advisor twisted his face in disgust cutting you off. “You dare question the King’s judgement? You should be ashamed of yourself. It’s an honor to serve the King.” His voice dripping with disdain.

Your mouth parted as you looked at the advisor, "N-No," You looked back at the King gasping as you quickly dropped to the floor, bowing down as you felt your heart sink. "No, Your Majesty, please forgive me. I just-“

“Such insolence will not be tolerated.” The advisor cuts you off as he takes a step forward to you, waving his hand around.

“Silence!” You heard the King yell, making everyone flinch at his voice booming within the room. He glared at the advisor who shrinks under his stare as he moves back to his spot, looking down. “Let her speak." He said fed up with the advisor interrupting you.

The King sighed, trying to calm down his frustrations. "She has acknowledged her shortcomings and is willing to change it. I will give her the opportunity to prove herself to me that she is capable.” He said looking all of his advisors in the room to which they nodded.

You felt yourself shaking in fright, breathing shakily as you had your eyes shut tightly. “Rise,” he commands you and you quickly rise up, looking at him. “Let me make it clear to you. Do make any further errors and it won’t be forgiven so easily. Understood?” he asks you.

Trust that it was a promise, not a threat.

You nodded quickly, swallowing feeling your throat dry. “Yes, Your Mastery.” You said, “I understand my responsibility and will do my utmost to fulfill it correctly.”

His eyes remained lingering on you for a moment, “Dismissed.” He said, leaning back in his chair.

The same guard from before moved from his position, walking up to you and grabbing your arm as he took you away. As you were being dragged away, you looked back and bowed at the King, having eye contact with him before looking forward.

He doesn't know why but there was something about you that had captivated him within minutes. He stared at you, watching you being dragged away until the main doors shut close.

______

After the audience with the king, the guard guided you to where you’ll be living from now on. It was a small, modest house that was right outside of the royal palace but still within the boundaries that separates the place grounds and city. Something interesting to note was that the King’s chamber window was in a clear view of you.

After you finish settling in, you went outside to take a moment to admire your surroundings. The house was nestled by a gentle stream that makes a melodic tranquil noise as the water flows by. Bright lanterns that are strategically placed alone a path and around the house that casts a beautiful yellow glow. Watching the petals of the cherry blossom trees, that are boarded around giving a sense of privacy, fall down as the wind shakes them.

You closed your eyes, turning to where the wind’s direction feeling it blowing through your hair as you take in a deep breath, smelling the nature around you. From afar the King watches in secret not knowing why he was watching. His thoughts were unreadable.

You opened your eyes, feeling a strange sensation of being watched. You turned and viewed the window, thinking someone is there. You could’ve sworn you saw a shadow but once your sight adjusted nothing was there, just the curtains being swayed by the breeze.

In the room the King had quickly stepped back, feeling a bit panicked. He gained his composure before slowly peaking his head out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of you again, but alas you went into the house.

____

The morning sun was starting to peak in as you inhaled and exhaled a deep breath, calming your nerves as you approached the King’s chamber door. You ran a hand down your black robe, a red dragon design outline on your right shoulder, trying to straighten it out before raising your hand to the door, gently knocking. “Your Majesty,” you called out. “I have arrived to help with your morning preparations.”

His deep voice rang muffled, “Come in.” You opened the door stepping into the dimly lighted room as you saw him sitting on a small cushioned bench by the open window, giving you his back. His posture up straight as his hands rested on his thighs.

“Be warned,” he said in his cold authoritative tone causing you to freeze in your step. “My mask will be off as you fix my hair. If you so much attempt to look at my face, you will be punished by death.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You say, feeling your throat hitch. You make your way to him, hearing the creak of the wood in every step. You’ve heard about the consequences of seeing the king’s face, many have fallen to them. You’ve heard about people sneaking in to see his face, or coming up to him to rip the mask off.

For the longest time, there has been a standing tradition for royals, in this kingdom, to wear masks to ensure their protection and to keep their identities hidden, that includes their name as well. The name chosen for this king was Dragon. It was to symbolize his power and aura.

As you approached, your eyebrows furrowed at the sight of his back. Deep, and some faded, rooted scars were etched across his back. What caught the most attention was one that ran from his right shoulder across the lower back. You couldn’t help but to feel empathy, heartbroken even. Who could do such a cruel thing?

Nonetheless, you kept your composure. You grabbed the brush, ready to start with the preparations. Feeling your longing stare of his back, he shifted slightly in his seat. “Are you ready to begin?” He asked with an underlying edge but stayed calm.

You cleared your throat, “Yes, Your Majesty.” Your hands moved with gentleness as you stroke his beautiful silky black hair. Each pass was tender, smooth as you were able to detangle without any discomfort. Your hands moved skillfully, slow trying to avoid any abrupt movements.

Diving his hair horizontally, you expertly twisted his upper half of hair into a neat bun, pushing in a golden dragon hairpin as the lower part of his hair cascades down his back, tangled free as you ran your fingers through. You grabbed his mask, “Your Majesty,” calling to his attention, “I will now be placing your mask.”

He remains quiet as you gently position the mask over his face. He raises his hand to hold in place the mask as you adjust the strings behind his head, making sure it’s completely secure but not too tight.

When you finished with the mask, you had accidentally grazed the big scar with your finger tip as you were fixing the bottom half of his hair. The next thing you know, he turned around with fury in his eyes, “what do you think you’re doing touching me like that?” he said with irritation hanging off his voice as he gripped your wrist.

Through the slits of the mask you saw his eyes flashing with anger and defensiveness. “Y-Your Majesty,” you say, trying to keep your composure. The death grip on your wrist was hurting you. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to cause you discomfort. It was purely accidental. I’m so sorry.” You trembled in your words, trying not to cry.

When he sees your genuine reaction something inside him shifts quickly. He lets go of your wrist, making you gasp at the release, and takes a step back. He closes his eyes, telling himself that it’s okay, he’s in no danger. “Just finish helping me get dressed.” His voice sounded a bit strained but controlled.

He sits back down only this time he remains stiff as a board, hyper-aware of his surroundings as if he is expecting to be attacked. He just wants this to be over with already.

Your demeanor remains apologetic and respectful as you continued with your job. With every gentle touch you gave, he would tense at it. You felt so much remorse, but not much could be done. You take a step back once you finished, “Your Majesty, I have finished.” You bowed slightly.

“You may go.” He said, still giving you his back. You walked to the door, reaching for the handle but hesitated. You turned back wanting to say something to ease the tension between you two, but you knew it wasn’t your place. You bowed once more and left the room.

When he heard the door close, he hunched over leaning his arms on his thighs to support his weight. His mind started racing with all these conflicting emotions, feeling like he can hear people talking to him, sounds from battles—everything was talking over him. He yells as he looses control, ripping his mask off and throwing it to the wall.

He breaths heavy, looking at the mask that split into two from the impact. The once silent room was suddenly filled by his faintly, anguished sobs as he falls to his knees feeling defeated. He hated how damaged he was inside and outside. The loneliness took over him as he cried all alone.

______

After that whole disaster, you barely saw him today. You figured he was occupied with his work, not really needing you. It was later in the evening and here you are in the laundry room. The fire on the torch illuminated the room as you worked on his clothes.

You paused for a second, using your arm sleeve to wipe the sweat beads on your forehead before going back to scrubbing the brush against the clothes. Slowly, your washing subsided as the memory from earlier creeped in.

Dropping the brush into the bucket, hearing the clank, you sighed. "How could I do something so stupid," You threw your face into your hands, feeling ashamed, embarrassed. "On my first day, nonetheless."

You rubbed your forehead, staring at your wrist. The adrenaline that was running in you in that moment must've suppressed the full pain because you didn't think your wrist would've bruised up. You moved your wrist around, feeling it just a bit achy.

You shook your head, trying to forget the interaction as you went back to work. "Can't change the past." You tell yourself as you stood up, stretching your neck and back. Your surprise he didn't kill you in that moment considering what he told you the day before.

You bent down, grabbing a wooden basked full of wet clothes by the handles and stepped outside. Feeling the evening breeze, you inhaled the fresh air. You walked to the clothesline, dropping the bowl near your feet, grabbing some clothes and wringing them of the excess water, making sure nothing is soaked up.

As you were placing the clothes and adjusting them to spread out to evenly dry, a young boy who was barely in his teens approaches you. "M-Ma'am," he said nervously as he fumbled with his hands, "The King is asking for fresh garments immediately." he said.

You smiled at him, trying to ease his nerves. He must've been sold as well, so young. "I'll go right now." You say as you finished hanging some clothes, grabbing the now empty bowl and leaning it on your hip for support.

You watched as the young boy nodded and ran away. You looked back at the clothes, checking to make sure everything was okay before gathering fresh garments and heading up to his chambers.

—

As his door came into your view, you started to feel your palms sweaty. Your heart was racing with the memory of this morning. When you arrived you raised your hand, hesitating to knock. When you did you heard him say to come in a few second after.

When you walked in, you saw him standing near the window, his silhouette highlighted by the moonlight, making him look so ethereal. "Your Majesty, I have your fresh garments."

He turns around with his mask on and nods, acknowledging you. You headed to his bed, separating each piece of clothing in an organized manner. You bit your lips, in concentration as you made sure the shirts and pants were laid down flat. “Is there anything else you need- oh!”

You yelped in shock, placing a hand over your chest when you realize that he was standing closely behind you. You let out a breath, “I’m so sorry. I did not see you there, Your Majesty.”

But he stays silent, looking at your wrist tilting his head to the side as he reaches out and examines it. You felt your heart racing when he looks at you, “Did I do this?” He asked and then looks back down, turn your hand over to see the bruising.

You gulped in nerves, slightly taken aback that he was concerned. “I-Uh-“ You fumbled with your words, afraid to tell him the truth not wanting to get him upset. “No. No your majesty, I accidentally-“

His eyes stared into yours, his eyes reading don’t come up with a pathetic lie. “Answer me truthfully,” he cuts you off, your wrist still in his hands. “Did I cause this?”

You bowed your head, sighing in defeat. “Yes, Your Majesty.” You looked back up at his eyes, “But it was not your fault. I mistakenly touched you so I deserve it and any other punishment you might give.”

Behind the mask, sorrow was written on his face. His eyes flashing with regret for a slight moment before returning normal. “I-…. I apologize.” The words felt so foreign on his tongue. “I did not mean to hurt you.” He doesn't know why he is apologizing, let alone even concerned for your well being.

Your mouth slightly dropped as you blinked a few times. Did you mishear him? “No. You do not have to apologize. It was all my fault, I reassure you.” You said to him. “I should’ve been more careful.”

First day on the job and you had the king acting like this? He has no idea who, what, why, or how you have a way to make him feel things within him. Never in the years he’s been living has he ever apologized. So what makes you so different?

You two shared a moment before he cleared his throat, releasing your wrist gently. “Just be careful in the future.” He looked away, feeling uncomfortable with the energy in the room. You watched as he walked to the window, “You are dismissed.” He turned his head to the side to tell you before looking back out.

You bowed, “Yes, your Majesty.” You turned and quickly left the room, gently closing the door as you leaned your back on it letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. You raised your wrist that he held, still able to feel his touch as your felt your heart doing leaps.

Meanwhile in the room, Yeosang was looking at his hand trying to remember the softness of your skin. His mind was running with a million of questions but the main one was; Who are you to be making him feel out of character?

—

It has been weeks now since that interaction with the King, and to say he has been maintain his distance from you is an understatement. Yes, you are his personal servant, yes, you two communicate a lot but even in the same room as him he feels so far.

Yeosang made it a mission to push these feelings, I guess you can call it, to the side. He never showed concerned for your bruised wrist, but he won’t lie that it pained him a bit when he saw you wincing in pain when you did a sudden movement or when it was in the healing stages how the yellow looked frightening.

He never showed any further signs of compassion or concern. Just his normal cold self and commands with the same detachment. You have seen the side of when he gets angry at his advisors during meetings or when they arrive with bad news or when they mess something up. There are times you flinch at his voice when he yells at them. Don’t even get started when it comes to his army. The physical torture he puts his men through to get stronger is not for the weak. But do not think for a second that he is not participating, oh, he very much is.

The many times you have seen him go into practice fights with his men, to which they end up passing out with broken noses, eyes swollen, blood all over there faces as you stand off to the side, holding his robe, waiting for him to finish up. The many times you have stood in the rain watching him and his men move with practice movements in synchrony.

But no matter how much he tries to shove those feelings to the side, he can’t help it when he sees you. For example, you have become an expert in reading his body language, trying to find ways to calm him down during meetings whether it is water, or collecting paper he has thrown in an angry fit, planning the meals that will bring him comfort after a rough day or the way you stand in the rain and run to him with an umbrella, draping his robe over drench shirtless body, having a warm bath prepped for him already. Just little things to big things that add up.

You have yet to see the brutal side that you have heard. But you couldn't help but wonder, what laid behind the mask. Not just the physical aspect but the emotional part. Why did he keep his emotions in a distance. Do you think you guys will share a moment once more?

The bright midnight moon lit your path as you wandered throughout the palace's garden, deep in thought. You ran your fingertips on the bloomed roses, watching them move from the movement as you walked by them. Coming across a stone bench that was stationed in front of the fountain, you take a seat.

You looked at the statue that stands in the center of the fountain, admiring the how the the man holds the woman in a embrace full of passion as she stares at him with eyes full of love. How can someone capture such tenderness and deep affection on stone. The glow from the moon casts on the statue, making it even more enchanting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A deep voice rang from the side. You turned to face where the voice was coming from and you spotted a man dressed in a guard uniform.

You smiled at the man, half of his face was illuminated by the moonlight as he leaned on a stone wall, arms crossed. "Very beautiful." You say looking back at the statue then to him, "I wasn't expecting to see anyone at this hour, but I'm glad I have company."

He smirks, "Glad to be of company." He said, pushing himself off the wall. "You know," He said, walking to you, "there's a story behind the statue," he extends his hand out to you, "if you're curious."

You smiled as your gaze jumped between him and his hand. "Do tell." You said, grabbing his hand feeling some rough patches on his hand. Wow, there was no denying that this man was handsome. You took this time to take in his features.

He had a heaven painted birthmark on his left eye, enchasing his piercing stare. The way the moonlight defined his cheekbones, giving him a sharp look. His eyes, for some reason, looked familiar but also striking.

He gives you a small twirl, making your heart leap at the gesture. He places your hand on his arm as he guides the way through the garden. "Well, this statue represents a love story from many, many years ago," he starts off, "The couple were from different social classes, much of the tales of forbidden lovers."

You stared at him in curiosity, his voice entrancing. "They met in this very garden, in secret, away from prying eyes of the palace, society," He said, grabbing your arm pulling you down in some bushes, "Everybody." It was in perfect timing because a guard walks by, looking side to side making sure the coast is clear, oblivious to you two.

When he sees him out of sight he goes on, "The woman came from the royal family, a noblewoman bounded to another man," he says, holding your arms, helping you get up, "While the man she truly loved was a no one, dirt poor, mere gardener."

You're so captivated by the story, you stare at him in awe. He goes on guiding you both on the path from before, "They were so deeply in love, felt like just them two in the whole universe. But from the start..." he paused in the story, looking at you watching your eyes full of curiosity, "There relationship was cursed."

You gasped slightly, eyes widened at the sentence, "No." you said fully engrossed into the story.

The man chuckled at your reaction, liking how your reacting. "But despite all the odds that came at them, they never gave up on one another, still visiting each other in the garden." he said.

No words can describe the way your heart is feeling as you watched him passionately describe the story. He finally stops, turning you as he slowly one by one takes your hands into his, "One night they decided to runaway together." he looks down with a hint of sadness, "But fate was not kind as they were discovered. Everyone saying their love deemed a threat."

He then turns you to face the fountain, your eyes widening at the sight. "They were separated and never saw each other again." He whispered in your ear, behind you. The angle he put you in brought the beauty out of the statue in its most perfect form. The garden surrounded the statue while the full moon shined behind the figure which was breathtaking.

But you couldn't help but to feel heartbroken for the couple. "That's so tragic. I can't fathom the pain they must've gone through." you said, processing the story.

"It is," he says, getting in front of you as he smells a rose he had plucked from a nearby bush. "The king at the time authorized this statue as a tribute to their love." He said placing it in your hair, "A reminder that love can leave a lasting impact."

You felt butterflies in your stomach, seeing him now take position of the statue with the moon behind him now. He looked like he was spotlight of the garden. "May I be honored to know the name of the enchanting lady who has captivated my heart this evening?" he asks, smirking.

You felt yourself blushing as chuckled at him, "I'm Y/N," you said, blushing a bit. "And who might you be?"

He stays silent as he gives you a smile, “if you return, then I’ll give you my name.” He grabs your hand and places a tender kiss, “Until then I must take my leave.”

You felt a bit frustrated with him mystery man, but you couldn’t help but to feel excited to see him again. You watched as he walked away, “W-Wait!” You called out to him and you reached your hand out to stop him, “When will I see you again? When do I come back?”

“You’ll know.” He said as he winks at you, smirking before leaving. You placed a hand on your hip, feeling frustrated even more, “Well, that doesn’t help.” You said out loud to yourself. You then grabbed the rose in your hair and smiled at it as you smelled it, walking home.

—

Meanwhile quicken steps can be heard against the floor as they made steps to the King’s chamber. The door opens and shuts in a hurry as Yeosang leans his back against the door, trying to catch his breath.

He then looks at the window, pushing himself off the door as he makes his way to it. He peaks out to and catches a glimpse of you admiring the rose in your hand as you sat upon the steps of your house. You smelled it once more before breaking out into a smile, feeling a giddy inside.

He watches you get up and head inside for the night. He sighs as he moves to his bed and sits at the edge of it. What compelled him to dress up as a guard and talk to you in such ways he never imagined he could do was beyond him. You captured him and he wants to figure out why he had fond feelings for you.

He feels a sense of anticipation, wanting to see again but as himself as Yeosang, not as the King. You consumed his thoughts. From the way you touched him with tenderness to the way you carry yourself with effortless grace. He laid down on the bed, looking up to the ceiling. "What am I doing?" he spoke to himself.

—

The soft sunlight casted on your skin, your eyes squinted as the sun shines brightly while you walked alongside the King and his guards, roaming around in the city. You took in the scene before you as vendors called to bystanders to try out or look at what they were selling. The sound of children laughing and running as they played with their friends through the crowds while the rest of the town-folks went about their day.

You then spotted a couple who were laughing together as they held hands, looking at the stalls full of jewelry. It reminded you of the mystery man from the garden, that you have yet to see again. Partly because you have just been so busy with your responsibilities and you’ve just been so exhausted.

It has been a couple of days since you last saw him, hopefully he doesn’t think anything bad of you since you haven’t gone back. You can’t help but let out a soft chuckle when you picture him telling you the story. “Something on your mind?” You heard the King ask you making you jump out of your thoughts.

Yeosang had noticed the way you stared at the couple, making you lose yourself in thought. He matched your pace in walking so he can spark a conversation. “Oh,” you smiled, “It’s nothing, Your Majesty.” You tell him, shaking your head.

“Interesting.” He said, as he waved back at the people who bowed and waved at him. Despite his cold demeanor and angry side, he truly cared for his people, wanting to ensure the best for them. “This nothing has you smiling.”

You bit your lower lip, biting back a smile as you felt butterflies in your stomach. “Yes indeed.” You say softly, looking down. “He does.” You whispered that part yourself but Yeosang heard it. He felt his heart flutter at your words.

The silence takes over you two. Still lost in your thoughts, you fail to notice children, who sneakily ran through the guards to approach you. You felt a tug on your shirt, causing you to look down, “Hi there,” you smiled, kneeling down to their height, “how can I help you?”

They looked at each other giggling then back at you, handing you a toy inviting you to play. “Oh, wow!” You gasped in admiration. You looked at the King who nodded his head in approval. “Stay with her, keep her safe.” The King ordered two guards who stood by you as you played with the kids. You couldn’t help but to smile as you played with them, taking in this moment of happiness.

Yeosang went ahead, looking at the stalls, seeing what the vender’s were selling. He then sees a table full of beautifully crafted hairpins, captivated by the designs and gems gleaming as the sun shines over them. When he approached, he saw the owner, an old lady, struggling to get up to greet him. “Please.” He held his hand up to stop her.

She smiles as he bows as best as she can, “Your Majesty,” she said softly, adjusting herself in her seat. “It is an honor. How may I serve you?” She asked, gesturing at her table with her hand.

He doesn’t reply just yet. Instead, he gazed at the variety of hairpins laid out in front of him. He can tell that each piece was delicately and intricately made. “These are beautiful.” He spoke as he looks at her, “Did you craft them yourself?”

She hums at him, smiling. “Yes, all handmade your Majesty. Thank you.” She watched as his eyes roamed all over until his eyes landed on a beautiful red rose hairpin. Behind the mask, his mouth opens in awe as he grabs it, examining the beauty of it. This is the one for you.

It was the perfect replica of the rose he gave you that night. He then turns to look at you in the distance, watching you tickling the kids as they fall into your embrace, full of laughter. He’s mesmerized at how your beauty shines more when you laugh. Behind the mask, he smiles at the sight of you.

“My husband use to look at me like that.” The old lady said full of warmth and nostalgia as she looks between you and him.

His eyes widened as he turned to look at her in shock, “W-What do you mean?” He said, stuttering feeling as he was caught red handed. Was it that obvious?

She chuckled gently, “Your Majesty, forgive me,” she said leaning forward causing him to lean in as well, “No mask can hide the eyes of love. Not even the coldest exterior can conceal what the heart truly feels.”

He lets out a low laugh, which makes the old lady be in shock before laughing with him. The cold king can laugh? “There is something about her that calls to me.” He tells her, feeling happy he can let this out of his chest. “Thank you for your wisdom and courage. Not many can talk to me in that way. It’s rare to find someone who can see so clear.”

He hands her the pin. “I would like to purchase this one.” He tells her and she grabs it as she wraps in a red handkerchief. “How much will it be?”

She shook her head, holding her hand out to stop him. “Free of charge. Anything for you, your Majesty.” She hands it to him, smiling.

“How much is it-“

“Young man-“

“Young man? You know I am the King, correct?”

“I am older than you. Respect the elders, correct?” The woman hits back at him. No one would ever speak to the King like this but he likes how she treats him as if that’s her grandson.

He tilts his head to the side as if saying try me as he extends his hand out signaling for his guard to give him the pouch full of coins. He places the pouch on the table, pushing it closer to her. “All yours.” He said, smirking behind the mask.

She looked at the pouch and gasped at the kind gesture. There was no way she felt comfortable taking that amount of money, “Your Majesty-“

“Please. You work so hard, you deserve it. Besides, it’s been a while since I was scolded like how my grandmother did. You remind me of her.” He said as he tucked the handkerchief away in his robe, making sure it’s safe.

She bowed and repeatedly thanked him as he walked away. He walked to your direction, watching your rise up from your feet, dusting off the dirt from your pants and hands as the children scampered off. Your face radiating a glow from the brief interaction with the kids. “The children really enjoyed your company.” He chimed in as you walked alongside him, feeling a huge shift in his demeanor, seeming more relaxed.

You looked at him with a smile, fucking some hair behind your ear, “Oh, they were just delightful.” You said, “I enjoyed spending my time with them.”

“It was a beautiful sight.” He mumbled to himself, looking ahead.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “I’m sorry your Majesty, did you say something?” You asked him.

He shook his head and let the silence take over once more. You didn’t question him. But behind the mask he was sweating bullets. Did he really speak his thoughts out loud?

—

It was getting late, deeming it time to go back to the palace. The King had mentioned it to the guards that it was time to leave, but in reality Yeosang has been wanting to see you again in the garden, in hopes of giving you your gift.

Just as you all were about to leave, a sudden commotion erupted. Everyone within the group froze, turning around quickly to examine what was happening. You see fellow townsfolk staring at where the sound was coming from but soon shifted to them running away as a group of masked men dressed in black charged through the stalls.

They were jumping on the stalls, smashing goods, overturning stalls in their path—panic was surging quickly as the crowd started to push one another to leave the scene as terrified screams radiated from them. You frantically looked around, watching people pass you as the guards tightened the circle around the king and you.

You felt the once relaxed demeanor shift into a protective one as the King grabs your arm, holding you close behind him. His eyes darkened when he sees the incoming masked men, “Y/N,” his voice rang in your ears, “stand behind me.”

You nodded, trembling in fright. “Yes your Majesty.” The sounds of the swords unsheathing made you more into a nervous wreck. Soon enough the king’s guard stepped into action, hearing the clashing of swords as you heard yelling from both sides.

One assailant stepped up to the king, which instinctively caused you to take a step back, trying to rip the King’s mask off his face. Your eyes widened at the action making you gasp as you covered your mouth with your hand.

The king was faster than him. He sidesteps, grabbing the man’s stretched out arm, giving it a twist and forced it upwards. A nasty pop sounded in his arm causing the man to scream in agony. Yeosang shoved him to the floor, turning to fight another attacker.

Without hesitation, he leaped into action using hand to hand combat skills, bringing down enemies. The precision and strength he had was able to tackle many of them down, one after another. You slowly backed away from them, scared to be caught up in the middle.

You then bumped into something, causing you to turn around to see an assailant, tilting his head side to side, almost as if a snake in trance, wondering what he is doing to do to you. You wasted no time turning to run away, but he was fast. He grabbed a fist full of your hair as he dragged you down to the floor, dragging you by your hair.

You held your hands onto his wrist, screaming in pain as your scalp burned. “Let me go!” You yelled at to him as you tried slapping or punching his hand. He roughly lets go as he gets on top of you, backhanding you causing you to slightly lose your consciousness as you felt the corner of your lip bleed by the impact.

You looked to the side, seeing the king fighting as your vision gets blurred. You then feel the weight of the attacker on you as he placed his hands on your neck, starting to choke you out. “Please..” you whispered with whatever breath you had left.

You clawed his hands in struggled desperation. Panic surged through you as your vision blacked out little by little as your fighting is subsiding slowly. Amidst in his own fight, from the corner of his eye Yeosang saw what was happening to you. His heart was racing when he saw your hands drop, closing your eyes. Something within him exploded at that sight as he quickly dispatched the guy he was grapping with, twisting the man’s neck as he killed him.

Yeosang takes out a blade he keeps hidden within his robe and in a swift motion and precise throw, he hurls it to the back of the head of the attacker. He watched as the attacker stiffens and then falls on top of you as blood spews from the back of his head.

Yeosang quickly runs to you, shoving the man off of you as he holds you in his embrace. “Y/N,” he said, tapping with some force on your face to wake you up, “Come on, wake up, wake up,” his voice trembled with fear, “please, Y/N. Wake up..”

You then shot your eyes open, gasping in shock as your hands shot out keep pushing the man off of you but he wasn’t there anymore. Your throat felt raw and burned as you coughed. You felt a hand on your face causing you to jump in fright as you shoved them off of you. “Hey, Y/N it’s okay!” You heard a familiar voice. “Y/N, it’s me.”

You looked at the king in fright. “Your Majesty-What-,” you cut yourself off as you looked around, “What happened?” You asked him as you looked down at your blood stained clothes and the dead body with the blade behind its head. “Oh my god.” You gasped as you looked away.

“Look at me, Y/N,” the King helps you up as he cups your face, “You’re okay.” He reassured you as you nodded at his words, feeling dizzy as you tried looking into his eyes. “It’s over. It’s over.” He cleans up your fallen tears, you didn’t even notice you were crying, with his thumbs. “It’s over.” He tells you once more.

His guards were able to take control of the situation. The danger was finally over, but the encounter had left a mark on everyone. “Call for more guards, we are going to clean up this whole mess, aid those who got hurt. Imprison all the assailants, I’ll handle the rest in there.” He told his guards, his eyes never leaving your face as you looked at your surroundings. In unison bowed, giving a strong yes sir.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said as you nodded at him as you walked back to the palace, hand placed on your back as he guided you. He’s going to take care of you right now, forget the responsibilities you two hold right now.

—

The dimly lit prison was heavy with tension as the sounds of the assailants muffled whimpering, groans of pains filled the ears of everyone in the room. You watched as they trembled in fear, faces now in display with swollen, bloody, beaten up features as all the mouths were gagged with a black cloth while others cold dead on the floor.

You said that you never saw the brutal side of the king tonight was the night that changed everything. Surrounding the room were the palace guards that were holding stern faces, barely illuminated by the flickering torchlights as they stood in the position of attention. You stood in the middle, up against the wall away from the king and the prisoners, watching how he slowly removes his regal robe as he approached the weapons table.

You swallowed nervously, looking down feeling afraid of what he’s going to do next. He dropped his blood stained silk robe on the floor, reaching for a rag on the table to dry off his hands full of blood. His back scars on display for everyone to see. His arms reach over to grab a knife, getting lost in thought as he moves it around, watching it gleam from the light.

You slowly lifted your gaze at him, watching him drop his arm, standing still as he stared ahead to the wall in front of him. His eyes flickered with void, behind the mask his expression was darkening, feeling the surge of anger coming over him. His people were in danger— you were in danger. He could never live with the fact that he let you get hurt.

“I’ll ask again,” his deep voice rang in the room causing the prisoners to whimper in fright. “Who sent you?” He turned around and faced them, causing them to widen their eyes in terror as some had tears falling down.

As he walked closer, the whimpering grew louder, a desperate plea for mercy. Some shook their head in disbelief as others begged with a muffled cry. Yeosang takes calculated movements, watching them as if they are his preys. You gulped as you watched this new side of him take over him.

You let out a shaky breath when you see him kneeling down to one of them, using the tip of his knife to raise his chin to look at him in the eyes. “You,” he said. “Things will go smoothly if you just comply with me. Who sent you here?”

The man shook his head as he tried speaking through the cloth that covered his mouth. “Shhh,” he hushed the man as he lifted the knife to the cloth, shoving the knife underneath it and he cut apart letting the man speak freely. “Speak.” He demanded.

“P-Please have m-mercy on me.” The man cried out to him as he bowed his head. Yeosang just laughs in his face. “Mercy?” Yeosang repeated, with a wicked smile behind the mask, “Mercy you asked of me? When you attacked my kingdom?”

The man whimpered when Yeosang drags the knife down from his temple to his jaw, not too deep but enough to draw blood, “Please, your majesty forgive me.” He pleads with him, closing his eyes tight in fear.

“Okay.” Yeosang said nonchalantly, looking at him with darkness in his eyes. The man parted his mouth in disbelief as he looked at him with widen eyes, “O-Okay?” He questioned. Yeosang placed a hand on his chin for support as he shrugged, nodding his head, “Okay.” He confirmed.

The attacker let out a breath of relief, guard coming down. Yeosang took the chance to jab the knife into his throat causing you to look away as if you’re going to throw up. “All is forgiven.” He said as he watched the knife slide out the man’s neck as he drops to his side, blood oozing out.

You closed your eyes as you heard the man struggling to breathe. You felt tears dwelling in your eyes, wanting to leave this place. You inhaled a sharp breath as you looked back at the king, feeling scared when you see the king stand up in frustration.

The king has been going at this with hours and nothing has yet to come. His patience, as you can tell, is wearing thin at this point. “Maybe we should try a new question?” He said as he flips the knife in his hand. “Which one of you is the leader?” He asked, pointing the knife at them.

The men shared panicked glances, but not daring to snitch on who it is. Yeosang’s jaw tightened, feeling angry again. But he tried to not let it affect him as he carefully looked over at the men, stopping at one who is particularly shrinking in his spot as he looked down, shaking a bit side to side.

Yeosang approached him as he grabbed a fist full of hair and yanked his head up to face him as he knelt down in front of him. “It’s you, isn’t it?” He tilted his head. He removed the cloth from his mouth but the man was too afraid with fear caught in throat. Holding the knife to his jaw, “Speak. Or should I slit the answer out of you?” He asked pressed the side of the knife into his neck.

“No, wait!” The man spoke out with widen eyes, “it’s him!” His eyes pointed to the man next to him which causes the man to yell at him, muffled. “He’s the one you want.” The man guided Yeosang with his elbow. “P-Please..”

Yeosang smile widens as he let go of the man's hair, standing up as he towers over the man next to him. “Finally,” The way he stood over him like a shadow of death. "Why don’t we start again, mmm?" he tilts his head to the side at him. The man frantically looks all over the room, trying to find an escape. Yeosang lets out a evil laugh that gave you chills down your spine, "Try all you want. There's no escape."

In a swift moment, he gets behind him, grabbing a fist full of hair as he pressed the knife shading the man’s throat. The man shivered as he closed his eyes pleading for someone to rescue him. “You hurt my people,” he whispered in his ear, “You hurt someone I care about.” He said as he looked at you.

You didn’t know what the king was whispering in his ear, but what you do know is that you froze in fright when he looked at you, letting out a shaky breath. The prisoner looks at you, “Don’t. Look. At. Her.” He hissed to the man as he pressed the side of the knife deeper into his neck causing the man to close his eyes as he shook his head.

The anger of him looking at you, the anger of seeing you helpless, the anger of your precious face hurt, the anger of seeing you lifeless in his arms— he loses it. He stabs the man on the thigh, dragging it upward causing the man to scream out in agony. The king shoved him to the floor as he gets on top of him, hand over his mouth, shoving the cloth further into his mouth.

“Answer me!” He yells at him as he turns on the knife in his thigh, “Who sent you?!” He asked once more as he takes out the knife and holding up against the prisoner’s face.

“-ee-in-om.” The prisoner said, repeating the same muffled words. Behind the mask, Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows as he reached to remove the cloth from his mouth. “Lee Kingdom.” The man breaths out, his chest heaving, “The Lee Kingdom sent us here to harm you.” He confused as he gulp, trying to moisten his dry throat.

Yeosang froze as he watched the man confess, the words processing in his head. He slowly stood up with the knife in his hands. You watched as he stood over the man, the lights shining on his sweaty body as he gave you his back, watching it rise from his heavy breathing.

The Lee Kingdom, how could he forget for a second? For years these two kingdoms have been at war, fighting for ownership of respective lands. He scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head as he looks down. He should’ve known this attack was park of a larger scheme orchestrated by them.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “Turn around.” He commanded. Within seconds you saw the guards turn around, making you look around in confusion. “Eyes.” He said. In sync PERFRCTION, the guards take out a blindfold as they wrapped the cloth around their eyes.

You furrowed your eyes in confusion as you take a step forward to the King, “Your Majesty-“

“Y/N,” he cuts you off as you froze in your step. You watched as he lifted his head, staring out the prison window. “Leave and wait for me outside.” He lifts his hands and slowly takes off his mask causing you tu turn away in fright, your heart was racing when you heard the men screaming.

The men were trying to stand up as they tried to find a way to escape, knowing the consequences of seeing his face. They know they are not leaving here alive. “I don’t want you to see this.” His voice rang through the screams as his mask dropped on the floor. You quickly ran out the door, the sound of the door closing faded the terrorizing screams.

You ran down the hall with a hand covering your mouth, feeling nauseous forming in your throat. You ran up to a wall as you placed your hand on it as you leaned for support. You felt yourself breathing heavy as you tried catching your breath. You placed your back against the wall, sliding down as you covered your ears hearing the screams.

The screams that followed a desperate pleas for mercy tugged on your chest. You knew they deserved punishment, you knew they caused harm to the kingdom but you can’t deny the fact that seeing such gruesome acts brought fear into you. Especially seeing the King do it. Each scream was more gut wrenching than the last.

You sniffed, removing the hands from your ears as the screams suddenly stopped. You let out a shaky breath as you blurred vision stared at the door down the hallway. The eerie silence makes your skin crawl as your heart pounds so loud to your ears as you slowly get up.

You take small, hesitant steps to the door but froze when you heard the door creak open. You soon see the king stepping out with blood splattered across his upper body as he puts his robe on, concealing the brutality that took place. His eyes never met yours as he walked past you with composed steps.

He heard your slight hesitation in steps as you followed behind him. He can sense how your perspective on him change— he’s now the cold blooded, brutal king everyone talks about. How can he face you now?

He stops in his steps, “Are you alright?” He asked in a gentle tone, turning his head to the side to talk to you. The concern in his voice was genuine, but his actions weights heavily on him. “I’m sorry you had to see that. But it needed to be done. I would do anything for my kingdom.” I would do anything for you, he wanted to say.

You paused in your steps. “Yes, your Majesty.” You nodded. “I understand.” You said quietly.

He inhaled and exhales as he turns to fully face you now. His expression behind the mask softens instantly as he sees your scared state. He sees your bruised up lip and slowly gets close to you. You controlled your breathing as you see him approaching. Slowly he grabs your chin to turn to the side to examine your lip but you jolt back as the flashback him holding the knife up to the man’s chin flashes in your mind.

You gasped as you looked away. You then looked back at him with your head bowed. “Forgive me. I-I don’t know why I did that your Majesty.” His heart felt a slight pang as he dropped his arm, slouching slightly in sadness.

“No, it’s okay.” He said gently, looking down. “Clean up your lip and be careful with your neck. There are a few bruises.” He said pointing to his neck. He sighed as he turns around, walking away from you.

“Go home and rest for the night, I’ll handle the rest tonight.” He said raising his hand to give a small wave. “Take care of yourself please.”

You bowed as he walked away, “Yes, your Majesty.” You stood up and watched as he disappeared from the hallway. You sighed as you started walking to your house, reliving the whole day in your mind.

When you entered your house, you walked up to a mirror looking at the state of your face. Your eyes red and swollen from crying, your lip slightly bleeding but your neck is what shocked you the most. Your finger tips run over the hand prints on your neck as the flashbacks of the attacker on top of you pops up in your mind.

You sighed as you shook your head, trying to forget it as you walked to your window. The moonlight peered in as you approached it, looking up to the king’s chamber window only to find him standing there already, gazing out to the moon.

Your heart leaped when he looked down, catching you looking at him. You slightly jumped back but gave him a small wave and a smile. He nods as you before stepping back and closing the curtains. You leaned against the wall, still looking at up at him. Behind the darkness, there is a beautiful soul within him.

—

The next morning, you headed to the palace. You beat the sun in rising as you see the golden hues peaking over the stone walls that surrounded the palace. "Good morning," You were greeted by one of the usual guards, "The king wishes to be alone today." He gives you a small sympathetic smile as he took in the injuries in your face.

You were taken aback, "Oh," you felt slightly sadden that he does not need you today, but you understand why he needs his solitude. "Thank you for letting me know." You said as you looked down at the clothes you brought him, "May you hand this to him?"

"Of course." The guard said as takes it from your hand. "If anything changes, we will come and get you." He said as you nodded and bowed, leaving the scene.

You gnawed on your lower lip as you walked away. You truly wish you can speak to him about yesterday and to apologize once more from jumping away from his touch. You wonder how he is able to cope with the weight that carries, wishing there was something to do to ease the pain.

The day was a blur as you were preoccupied with other responsibilities. You held hope in your heart to be called by the king but nothing. The sun began to set as the sky was painted with hues of pink and orange while you walked to the garden.

The peacefulness of the garden was slowly becoming your safe haven. It was a place where you can escape from all of weight of your stress. You take a seat in the familiar stone bench, your thoughts swirling around in your head as you sighed.

"I thought I was never going to see you again, beautiful." You heard a familiar voice say with a tinged of amusement. You looked at him with a soft smile tugging at your lips as you hear his words sinking in.

You rose from the bench as you walked to him, watching his expression change, "I'm so sorry. I have been overwhelmed with my resp-"

"Who-What-," he cups your face as he examines it cutting himself off from his shock. You winced slightly from his movements, feeling your neck hurt. "Are you okay?" he asked looking deeply into your eyes.

You gave him a small smile, "Yes. Do not worry. I'm okay, I promise." You say as you held onto his wrists, looking back into his eyes.

His face holds sorrow as he looks at you. His eyes holding a familiar gaze, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes, but you tilt your head to the side, "What ever for?" you asked him.

"I'm sorry this happened to you." He said as he leans his forehead against yours. "I should've been quicker." He says closing his eyes, remorse in his tone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What do you mean?" You asked him. You felt him freeze for split second, but relax as he opened his eyes. "I mean that I should've gone quickly to the king's aid when I heard about the news of the attack. I didn't know you were there." He said clearing his throat at the end.

Your close your eyes with a sweet smile, "Please, it is okay. I promise you." you tell him, trying to ease his worries. "I'm just happy to see you again.", you opened your eyes looking into his.

"Me too," he whispers with sincerity as he looked at you in memorization, "Me too." He grabs your hands, interlocking his with yours. "So tell me," You say changing the topic, "What story do you have for me today?"

He chuckles as he walks backwards, pulling you with him. "Well, can I show you something?" He smirks, "I think you're going to like it." He turns around, guiding you with one hand now.

You bit your lower lip, feeling a smile forming on your face. But then you stopped, "Wait," you tell him. He turned around with furrowed brows with a head tilt. "You promised your name." You crossed your arms at him, smirking.

He chuckles as he looks down, taking a step to close the distance between you two. "Yeosang," he says looking up at you, "Kang Yeosang." He feels a huge weight coming off his chest now that he gave you his true identity. His true self.

"Yeosang," You repeated, making his heart flutter at how you say his name. He extend his hand out and you happily take it. It had been years that he has heard his name and he was happy that it was you to say it for the first time in a while. "Lovely name Kang Yeosang." You two laugh as he keep guiding you.

You two laid on the grass, hearing the sweet sound of the stream flowing by as you stargazed. Your eyes twinkled in admiration as you looked at far away lights with your head laying on his chest, arm draped over his stomach. Yeosang has one hand supporting his head behind him, as the other was wrapped around you, holding you tight in his embrace.

He felt like he was dreaming in this moment. There was no way the woman he admired was now in his embrace. He wishes he could stay in this moment forever. "The stars are beautiful tonight," he heard you say as you snapped him out of his thoughts. He hums in agreement.

You closed your eyes as his heartbeat and the stream make music to yours, "How did you find this place?" You asked him, opening your eyes to look up at him.

He smiles at the memory before speaking, "One day, my work was getting to be too much. I felt overwhelmed so I sneaked out and stumbled into the woods, wanting to be alone, wanting some peace and quiet." He looked up at the stars as you stared at him in admiration. He remembered the time he was starting as king, the advisors all surrounding him, talking all at once and showing him paper works, as he tried focusing everything at once but he just exploded at them to leave. He later on snuck out of the palace and into the woods.

"Yeosang," You called to him. Oh, he can hear you say his name everyday, until he dies. "May I ask you something?" You asked him as you turned onto your stomach as you rest your chin on his stomach.

He smiles at you as he ran his fingers through your hair, "Ask me anything." He told you as your heart fluttered at his actions.

You smiled, sitting up, seeing your hair running through his fingers tangled free as his hand dropped onto his stomach. "How come you became a guard?" You asked, wanting to get to know him better.

He stayed silent, remembering when he was ascended to the throne. He remembers the weight behind the crown, the responsibilities of ruling a kingdom, how he has to hide behind a mask for the rest of his life, all the scarifies he made— He sat up slowly as the thoughts suffocated him. "I became a guard because," he paused for a moment, "because it was a duty that fell upon me to take."

He remembers the difficult trained he endured that was specialized just for the King. Those scars on his back were from the time he was told to stay still while they beat him with sticks or whips to build up his pain tolerance. The many times he had to stand still in harsh weather environments to build up his immune system- the battles he was in as he remembers losing some of his men and the nightmarish screams.

"There comes a time in life when you're called to step up to take a heavy role you might not have chosen for yourself." He continues as you placed a comforting hand on his. He smiles as he interlocks his hand with yours, "For me, it was about protection and guidance, ensuring welfare and safety of my people— like the kingdom in general." He swallowed nervously, thinking he had exposed himself.

He thinks about how countless lives that depend on him everyday, putting a great amount of stress on him. "Knowing that you cannot afford to mess up because your next moves can impact countless lives," he looked at you, "It's daunting, but a privilege."

Your heart feels heavy for him when you hear him finish the story. Your thumb caresses the back of his hand. You sensed that there is more behind his words, but you didn't want to push further. "You're incredibly noble, Yeosang. It must be a hard burden to bear." You tilted your head in sympathy, "You must've given up so much."

He smiles as he looks at your interlocked hands, "We have burdens," he thinks about when he first became king, swearing to protect his people, "but how you carry them out defines who you are." he said looking at you.

You nodded in agreement. "Thank you Yeosang." you say, "Thank you for sharing with me. I know it must've taken a lost to share so I appreciate it."

"No thank you for listening." He smiled. He turned his body completely to face you adjusting himself as he gets closer to you, "Now, enough about me," he said, "Tell me about you."

The way his eyes were filled with interest, made you look down a bit self-consciousness, "Oh, there isn't much to say." You chuckled, "I don't think I have an interesting story like you."

His expression softens, casting a faint knowing smile that plays on his lips as he stared at your black robe with the red dragon outline. "Well, judging from the dragon on your robe," he nodded with his chin, " I would say otherwise."

Your mouth parted slightly in surprised as you looked at the dragon on your robe and back at him. He chuckled at your reaction, "The symbol isn't just given to anyone," he said answering your thoughts on how he knew, "The dragon represents trust, loyalty, and a deep connection to the king himself. You were chosen to serve in a position of great importance. The alone say a lot about who you are."

"Oh, I did not know that." You chuckled sheepishly "I guess I never thought of it in that aspect before." You said, looking at your robe, "I've always seen it as my responsibility. My duty. Something I was chosen to do."

He smirks at you, "And that's exactly why your story is worth telling." He pauses for a moment, kind of hesitant to ask, "How did you end up at the palace?" he asked, softly.

You glanced down, sadness taking over, "I, um-" you cleared your throat. "When I was young I lost my family. It was hard, honestly. To be a child who grew up in the streets, surviving on scraps, struggling to find a place to sleep-" You paused feeling an overwhelming of emotions coming in.

He raised your hand to his lips, placing gently kisses on it, "Please, don't worry." He comforts you, "Take your time." He said softly as he looked into the tears dwelling in your eyes.

You nodded as you inhaled and exhaled. "No child, or human, should go through the struggles I went through. I know my education and knowledge is not top tier— as you can see from how I did not know about the robe. As I got older, I was able to do get by by doing small tasks for people. Then one day, marches in the king's guard," You say as you remember that day. "They mentioned that they were offering food and shelter in exchange for a life of service." You chuckled softly when you remember how quickly you ran to offer yourself.

"It wasn't much of a choice honestly." You shrugged at him. "It was either go with them or continue to struggle. And well, here I am." You tell him. He stares at you in memorization, he is amazed by the strength you have. "Wow," he said in admiration, his eyes twinkling. "You're... incredible." He breaths out.

You laughed at his reaction, playfully shoving his arm. "No, no. I'm not. Just someone who is trying to survive life." You saw, downplaying yourself. He shook his head, "You are so much more than you think." He said.

After a few minutes, he clears his throat. His eyes roam around," S-So how is it working for the King? It must be hard at times, no?" He then shoots his eyes back at you, making you laugh. To say that he was nervous and terrified of your answer was an understatement.

"Well," you take a deep breath in and out. You took a moment to think about your answer. "Where do I even begin?" You thought out loud as you looked up to the sky. Yeosang scratched the back of his head as he sits up straight, trying to calm himself down.

"It's very.. complex." You began, carefully thinking of your words, "There are days I feel overwhelming weight of my responsibilities, but there are also the moments when I feel privileged to be in the position I'm in. But serving him isn't just a job, it's about being there for someone who carries the whole kingdom on his shoulders."

He stays quiet as he listens. You put a small smile on your face, "The king... he isn't just a ruler to me. He's someone who cares deeply for his people. He's someone who has to make the difficult decisions with their best interests at heart. I've seen him at his most vulnerable, seeing him make those tough sacrifices every day."

Your voice softens further as you look at Yeosang, "I see him in a different light contrast to how people see the worst in him. People think that he just rules with iron fists, with no emotions but they couldn't be more wrong. Behind closed doors I've seen him carry the weight of the crown, the burden of every choice he makes, every life he's responsible for. He may not show it openly, but he cares more deeply than people realize."

"It's not that he lacks emotions," You say, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, "He's just learned to hide them, guard them well so to protect himself from the vulnerability that comes with showing them too much. There's strength in that. Being able to withhold so much and keep going."

Yeosang was in awe of how you spoke of him. He looked down as he felt tears in his eyes, "You see the humanity in him, don't you?" He asked in a low voice.

"Yes, I do." you nodded your head, "That's why I'll keep serving him with everything within me. If there is anything I can do to ease his burdens, I'll do it. Because I believe in him for who he is, not as the king everyone sees."

He looks up with a tear streaming down his face, "I apologize," he chuckled, looking away wiping his face, "Those words spoke to me deeply."

"Oh, Yeosang," you cupped his face, making him turn to face you as you wiped his tears away with your thumb, "Don't be sorry. It's okay to let yourself be human. Maybe you relate to the king in some aspects, mmm?."

He just laughed, nodding at you. If only you knew, "Yes, maybe." He said leaning into your touch as he placed his hand over your hand that cupped his face.

Since that night you have been seeing him quiet often at night in the garden. You two enjoyed sneaking around the night shift guards, hiding in bushes or behind stone walls as you two stand chest to chest at times, or how stargazing has become a things between you two, or the random sweet talks you have when walking to his secret place, or enjoying a childish act like throwing water to each other from the stream.

As each day passes, you two grew closer and closer. There was one special night where you two laid next to each other, moonlight casted on you both as you looked into each others eyes. Soon you saw Yeosang leaning in causing to flutter your eyes close, raising your eyebrows in shock when he kissed you. You both opened your eyes when he pulled away. He then sits up and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He hovers over you as you two returned to kissing passionately.

Let's not forget how your house is filled with bouquets of flowers he makes every time he sees you from random bushes or the flower field you two pass by in the woods. He always walks you home and hands you the freshly made bouquets before kissing you good night and leaving. You feel completely over the moon when you see him and you realize you are falling deeply in love with him.

And here you are once again, walking into the garden, seeing him sat upon the bench. You smiled mischievously as you sneaked up behind him. Yeosang, who was trained to spot noises from miles away, knew it was but wanted to give you a chance to scare him.

You covered his eyes. "Guess who?" You smiled as you felt him stiffen up but then relax in your touch. "Oh, wow, this is hard," he smiles when he hears you giggling. "Might it be," he pounders for a second, "the woman who has my heart?" He asks, causing you to laugh as you remove your hands, taking a seat next to him.

"How did you know?!" You gasped in a fake surprise tone. You placed a kiss on his lips. "Mmm, it was a wild guess." He tells you as you leaned your cheek on his shoulder, looking up at him.

"How are you doing?" You asked him, eyes twinkling. "Much better now that you are here." He smirks as he places a hand on yours. "I wish we could stay here forever." He whispers to you.

"Which reminds me," You say nervously as you played with your hands, looking away from him. "I wanted to ask you something. I-Is there a reason as to why we only see each other at night? How come you never stay longer with me?" You asked him. "Are you afraid to be seen with me?"

His eyes widened at the last question. "What? Why would you say that? That is not the reason at all." He grabs your chin and turns your face to look at him. He sighed, "My love, you know that I have my guard duties that take up my time during the day. And since we sneak around at night, I get worries we will be caught." His thumb caresses your cheek.

You nodded, looking down. "You're right." You tell him. "I apologize. I don't know why I let my thoughts get to me." You chuckle sheepishly, trying to ignore the pang of sadness forming in your heart. You want to be able to be a couple in peace. Like those that you saw in town. To be able to showcase your relationship freely.

His heart breaks, watching your emotions changed. "How about I spend the night with you?" He asks, his mouth speaking faster than his thinking.

You cleared your throat, "Huh?" Your eyes widened. Why are you acting so shocked, isn't this what you wanted? "Oh- I um-"

Yeosang holds his hands up, trying to stop your thinking. "Oh. N-Not like that-"

You let out a sheepish smile. "Oh- okay, I was just-"

"I mean, unless you want to." He cuts you off again. He widens his eyes, "No- wait- It's your choice, but I just wanted to sleep with you." He shook his head as he slapped his forehead in embarrassment. "I mean I want to lie with you." He shakes his head and throws it back frustration. You make him so nervous. "I mean-"

You stand up, "Yeosang," You cut him off with a smile. You extended your hand out to him. "Come with me." He chuckles at himself as he grabbed your hand.

The silence had a comfortable feeling as you two lied in bed together. You two faced each other as you looked into each other’s eyes all mesmerized as he had a hand cupping your face. “Thank you for staying the night.” You say softly as you smiled.

“Thank you for letting me.” He said smiling back at you as his thumb caressed your thumb, causing you to close your eyes in delight. He chuckled lightly, “Are you tired?” He asked you as you nodded. He lays on his back, arm open for you to come into his embrace, “Come here.” He tells you.

You blushed, feeling butterflies in your stomach as you get closer and feeling him warm embrace enclosed around you. His heart was racing, feeling as if he can die in peace now. “Good night, Yeosang.” You tell him as you adjusted your head on his arm.

He leans over and gives you a kiss on your forehead, “Good night Y/N.” He leans his head back onto the pillow as you two drifted to sleep. How he wished he could stay in this moment forever.

Early in the dark morning Yeosang slowly opened his eyes. He had to get back before the sun rises. He looks down at you, gently removing you from his embrace. He watched as you shifted slightly in sleep, groaning a bit before getting back into a deep sleep. He chuckled as he turned to your table, taking out a red handkerchief and note.

He looks back and presses a kiss on your forehead before slowly backing up and quietly leaving your house. On his way to the chambers he can’t help but to smile knowing that he shared such an intimate moment with you.

—

You heard the birds chirping, your nature alarm. You groaned when you felt the sun peering into your room as you held your hand out to block the brightness. You turn your head to the side to see if you spot Yeosang but he's not here. You sat up and looked around, rubbing your sleepy eyes, “Yeosang?” You called out to him, but he was no where in sight.

You pouted knowing you weren’t able to say goodbye. But maybe you’ll see him later on tonight. You sighed as you removed the covers from your legs as you stood up, stretching your neck as you prepared the clothes for today, seeing as you have busy day with the King as he has meetings.

You then walked to the kitchen to prepare some tea but was stopped when you saw a red handkerchief and note on the table. You furrowed your eyebrows as you tilted your head, “What is this?” You asked yourself as you picked up the note.

It reads, To the woman who captured my eyes, my heart, my soul there are no words to describe what you make me feel. Out of all the roses in the world, you bloom the most beautiful. This pin represents the beauty you bestow. - Kang Yeosang.

The warmth of his words made your heart leap as you smiled at the note. You placed it down as you grabbed the handkerchief, slowly unraveling it. You gasped at the sight of the rose hairpin. You grabbed it, letting the red cloth fall to the table.

You sighed out a gasp as you moved it around your hand. You turned and quickly walked up to your mirror as you adjusted your hair and slide in the pin, turning your head to the slide to admire it. Oh yes, you really love this man.

Here you are in the grand room of the palace as you stood behind the King, dressed in a red robe with a black and gold dragon outline on your shoulder with your new rose hairpin on display. Your eyes scan the room that was filled with the advisors, military leaders, and other high ranking officials. The atmosphere was tense, thick with the weight of important decisions that yet to be made.

Throughout the meeting, you stood by him, watching his body language shift in different emotions. The discussion today was about the plan on the up coming war with the Lee Kingdom. You felt knots of fear forming in your stomach as you tried to keep your feelings at bay. You watched how the men in the room yelled at one another as they voiced their opinions on what they should do or what they assumed was a horrible idea.

Many tried to speak for the king which only made things worst. Everyone in the room flinched and went quiet when he heard the King slam his hands on the table, standing up. "Why must you all handle this which such incompetence." His low voice rang. You gulped, wondering what his next actions were.

"General," He calls to him. The General sits up straight, "Yes, your majesty?" He said clearing his throat, trying to make his voice sound strong and not in fear. "Gather all the men tonight. Start their training at dawn. They must be prepared for what is to come." He looks up at the men in front of him. "We are going to showcase the most historic bloodbath known to man. We will make them regret ever attacking our kingdom."

They all nodded in silence. "Everyone is dismissed." He says. With that everyone stands up and bows in unison. The king walks pass you, looking out the window while everyone leaves the room. When the door closes, he lets out a sigh, feeling exhausted and burnt out.

"What is troubling you?" He asks you, sensing your uneasiness. Well, what weren't you thinking of. You were internally freaking out about this war, about how many guards were going, is Yeosang going to be one of them, what if he were to get hurt, what if he were to die, what if- "I sense something is disturbing you." He said turning you, approaching you with his hands behind his back.

You held his gaze slightly caught off guard by his direct question. "It is nothing, your majesty." You shook your head masking your emotions. He tilts his head, a way of saying don't lie. You sighed in defeat as you looked down. "I'm just afraid of this war. The many lives that will changed. The people we might lose." You looked at him, "Are all guards going? I-I just want to make sure you'll be safe." Not a lie, but you want to know if some are staying behind.

His eyes lingered on you almost as if he's trying to see pass the walls you put up. He stays quiet for a second before breaking it, "We will be sending majority of the guards. Some will be staying behind in case of anything." He gets closer to you, "I know this meeting was unsettling to you, but rest assured that I do not intend to lose." His tone softens up.

You gave him a small smile, looking down and back up at him. "Of course, your majesty." You return the soft tone. "I believe in you."

He nods, turning around. "Very well," His cold self returns in a matter of seconds. You were use to it already. "You are dismissed for the day. I will handle everything else from here." You bowed as he walked out the room.

After a few minutes, feeling as if he was already away from the sight, you quickly ran out the room to the garden in hopes of seeing Yeosang.

—

You felt the world spinning as you ran all over the palace trying to find Yeosang. You shouted his name, hearing your voice echoing his name throughout the halls, but there was no response. An overwhelming sense of fear was coursing through you.

Your search led you to the garden as you frantically turned your head looking for him. The wind was blowing roughly, making your hair fly as it created a harsh hum in your ears, hearing some leaves rustling by. You let out a choked sob as you hugged yourself, feeling sadness consuming you.

What if you don’t see him before he leaves? What if he was already shipped for training? What if he doesn’t come back from the war? What if— “Y/N?” A voice snapped you out of your rushing thoughts.

You gasped as you turned to his voice, feeling your heart leap in relief at the sight of him, “Oh.” you say as you run to him, trying to ease yourself.

Yeosang’s expression softened at the sight of you as he opened his arms to embrace you. He kisses your temple as he hugs you tightly, “My love,” he lets go as he goes to cup your face, “What’s wrong?” He asked you in a gentle voice, the sight of you broke his heart.

“Yeo-“ you cut yourself off with a sob as you held onto his wrists. “Yeosang, please tell me you aren't going..” You shook your head as you looked into his eyes. "Please tell me." You cried out.

He sighed as he leaned his forehead against your, closing his eyes, “My love—“

“No, no. please don’t.” You cut him off, not wanting to believe it. “Please, just stay. Stay with me." You sniffed. "Let's runaway. Let's just get out of here before it's too late." Your voice broke out into a whisper.

His eyes had tears dwelling in as he looked into yours, using his thumbs to clean the fallen tears. “My love,” he said as you whimpered in sadness at the name, “I would do anything to stay and be with you,” your eyes held on for tiny bits of hope, but it was shattered, “but I must go.”

You removed his hands from your face as you sighed turning around in frustration. "My love. This is something I have to do. I cannot just stand by and do nothing." He tells you, trying to grab your arm but you yank it out of his grasp.

He takes a step back at your actions, eyes widening. You stare at him with angry tears streaming down your face, "Why not?" You asked him. "Why you? Forgive me for being selfish, but why not anyone else? Why must you go and someone else gets to stay?" He stays silent. "What if I lose you?" Your hand clutched your chest, feeling your heart being crushed.

He sighed as he takes a step to you, cupping your face, "No. Don't say that-" He shakes his head.

You sobbed. "What if you don't come back to me-"

"Stop it." He cuts you off with a serious tone. "Look at me, please." He begs of you. "You will never lose me. I promise you, I will come back to you." He kisses your lips to calm you down.

You imagine about him not coming home after that promise. "Don't make such promises. What if something-." You close your eyes, sniffing.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side. "What? You think I'm weak? I feel quite offended that my woman thinks I am not capable." He jokes with you, trying to lighten up the mood.

Even in a situation like this he knows how to make your heart flutter. Even in a situation like this, he knows how to make you smile and laugh. You let out a soft chuckle as you shoved his chest playfully. "I will come back to you. No matter what." He places a kiss on your forehead.

You looked at him as you nodded. "Okay." You say quietly. "I-" You say, cutting yourself off, feeling nervous. "I love you."

His mouth parted slightly in shock. His eyes moved between your eyes and lips as he leaned in and kissed you. He kissed you as if tomorrow does not exist. "I love you too." He said between kisses, making you melt in his touch. "More than you know."

—

And that was the last you saw of Yeosang. That day he told you he would be gone for training. How long? No idea. Would you see him before he leaves? Much less. You really tried your best in not letting your emotions show but it's so hard. The king even notices the change in your demeanor, how you have been delaying his commands or making small mistakes you don't normally make.

When he asks you what the issue is, you just tell him your scared for this war. Which is not a lie. You are terrified of this war, of what will happen to Yeosang, or the king, hell, even the kingdom if we lose. You don't mean to doubt the strength of your king, but you just simple cannot help it right now.

You were tending to your responsibilities one afternoon, helping out with supper that will be packed up for the in-training guards. That is until one of the king’s guard came up to you, halting your actions. “You are needed in the king’s chambers,” he said causing you to look up at him, “Immediately.”

You stood up from your seat, removing your apron, “Yes.” You said feeling your heart racing with confusion and anxiety. “I’ll be on my way." You quickly abandoned your position as you hurried throughout the palace.

The sense of urgency in the guard's voice made you uneasy, wondering what had happened that the king needed you so urgently. You paused for a moment to catch your breath, swallowing to moisten your dry throat, when the sight of the doors came into your sight.

You wiped your hands down on your robe, fixing yourself before approaching to the door. You looked at the two guards who gave you a nod, signaling to enter the door. He steps to the side and opens the door for you.

You inhaled and exhaled, feeling your heartbeat in your ears with every step. Your eyes scanned the room and found him standing near the window, watching how his hair and opened top robe gently swayed from the wind. You took in his nightly robe, all silky white with a black dragon outline in the back.

The doors closed behind, letting you speak in private. "Your majesty," You say as you walked to the center of the room, "You summoned me? Is everything alright?"

There was a silence in the room before he inhaled and exhaled, “I was thinking about you.” he said causing your eyes to slightly widened. “And I was thinking that,” He pauses as he turns around to face you, mask still on his face. “you deserve to know the truth.”

Now you are just confused. You furrowed your eyebrows as you tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean your majesty?”

He takes a few steps forward, still maintains his distance. “There is something I must say," He pauses once more, looking down, " but I’m afraid of your reaction.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, taking one step forward, "Your Majesty," your tone comforting, "You do not have to afraid with me. Please, whatever is troubling you, tell me."

He stares at you. “I don’t think that I can hide from you any longer.” He said making you tilt your head in confusion. “H-hide? What would you be hiding from me that you’re afraid of how I’ll react?” You asked him.

He walks slowly to you, closing some the distance a tad bit more. “Do you trust me?” He whispers to you, looking back and forth at your eyes as he stops in-front of you.

You nodded, “Of course. With everything within me.” You reassure him. You watch as he slowly raises his hand up to his mask, fingers gripping at the edge of it. Your eyes widened as your breath hitched before completely turning around, "Your Majesty." His title coming out reflexively, as your tone was filled with shock and fear.

The room was filled with nothing but your shallow breaths. Your heart was pounding up to your ears, terrified at his actions. "Please," you heard his voice tremble with vulnerability, something that was unheard of from him, "Look at me." he begged of you.

You shook your head. “With all due respect your majesty,” you gulped nervously, “I- I don’t think I can. Why-Why are you doing this?" You stuttered at him as you frantically looked all over the floor, feeling shocked with his actions.

You jolted when you heard the thudding of the mask as it fell to the floor, feeling your heart racing even more. Is this a test of trust? "Y/N, please look at me. I promise you it is okay." You heard him say as he gets closer to you causing you to gasp as you covered your eyes with your hands.

"Your majesty, I don't think this is right." You felt your chest heaving, feeling beyond terrified of the consequences. "We mustn't. For your own protection."

There was silence- only your heavy breathing can be heard. You weren't sure as to why he would do such a thing to you or why he would even bother trying to show you his face. This must be a test, no doubt. You stood still, waiting for his response as you still covered your eyes.

He sighed as he looked down, "To the woman who captured my eyes, my heart, my soul," He spoke in a low voice. You froze. Slowly you dropped your hands from your face as your eyes widened in disbelief, your mouth parted in shock. "There are no words to describe-," his voice broke in sadness, "To describe what you make me feel."

Slowly, hesitantly you turned to face him. A trembling hand covered your mouth as you took a step back, "No.." You whispered at the sight. You felt the in coming tears burning the inner corners as you blinked in doubt.

"Y/N," he said your name causing you let out a gasp. The way he says your name- it bring you back into the fact that this is reality. This is real. . "I'm so sorry I kept this hidden from you." His eyes carried rawness, reflecting the vulnerability he had been hiding behind the mask.

You shook your head as you said no like a mantra as your hands held your head as you looked around the room as if you're going crazy. "This can't be happening." You spoke your thoughts out loud. You watched as the king—Yeosang— take a step forward but you took a step back, “No! Stay away from me.”

“Y/N,” his voice broke as he sniffed, “Please let me explain.” He said as he took another step forward, cupping your face. “My love-“

“My love?” You repeated in disbelief as you shoved his hands off. You stare at him with anger in your eyes. “Do you have any idea what you have done?” You asked him as you watched tears streaming down his face. “I trusted you-“

“My love, I know-“ he cried in sorrow and regret, coming close to you again but you backed up once more.

“How could you do this?” You clutched onto your chest, feeling your heart break. “How could you do this to me? To us-” You looked at him as a shiver went down your spine, realizing that you are looking at him. “A-Are you going to kill me?”

His mouth parts in shock as he stares at you in disbelief, “Why would you- No. No, I would never, ever do that to you.” He lets out a sob as he gets closer to you once more cupping your face. “Y/N please just give me a chance to explain myself. Let me prove to you that I am still the same man you know, despite the title I bestow. I’m still the same man who is deeply in love with you.”

"Your Majesty-"

"To hell with the that. It's Yeosang," he cuts you off. "Yeosang." he repeated, holding your face to look into his eyes. You stayed silent as you looked into his eyes that was full of desperation. He leaned his forehead against you, "Let me explain my actions please. I beg of you." He pleads with you. All you were able to do is nod, watching him let out a shaky breath of relief.

"Y/N," He begins, "From the moment my eyes laid on you, I knew my world was never going to be the same. Time slowed and all the noises in my head faded away when I was with you. I felt human again. I felt alive." He grabs your hand and places it on his chest, "You feel this? My heart beats for you. I would do anything for you, Y/N." He spoke from his soul.

"I portrayed myself as a mere guard because I couldn't risk it if they found out about you while I was in my king attire. I couldn't risk losing you. Yes, I know," he said as he watched you looking to the side, crying as he cupped your face to look at him, "I should've said something but I was afraid. Afraid of being caught, afraid of how you'll react, afraid of everything while doing this risky thing. Y/N, I have done things that haunt me at night but when I am with you they disappear. I wanted to know the real you and for you to know the real me."

He wipes your tears with his thumb, "I'm so sorry for pain I have brought upon you. I'm so sorry for making you fall in love with me, I'm selfish I know. But I, too, fell in love with you. Before I went off to war, I needed to tell you, no matter the outcome of me. Believe me, I never wanted to hurt you." He finishes as he hugs you tightly, pressing a kiss on your head.

You cling onto him as the words he spoke sink into you, crying into the crook of his neck. You felt torn apart with the love you had for him and the reality of your circumstances, "Why must you go? Why must a war happen in order to have peace?" You cried out to him. You removed yourself from his embrace as you looked into his eyes, "Even if you do win the war, you and I will not win. They will never let us be together. They will tear us apart- They will send me away." You whispered as your voice broke, "You're a royal. I'm nobody. We can never be."

"That doesn't matter," He shook his head, "I will-"

"Doesn't matter?" You repeated as you sniffed. "Look at what they did to the couple in the garden." You reminded him of the statue. "We are just like them. If it happened to them, it will happen to us."

He felt anger coursing in him. He takes a step back and kneels in front of you making your gasp, "Yeo-Yeosang, what are you doing? Get up. You don't have to do this." You say as you walked to kneel down with him but he puts a hand out to stop you. The sight of a powerful king kneeling in front of you felt surreal.

"If getting on my knees proves that I would do anything for you, then so be it." He said looking up at you. "I love you. You are the reason I am able to keep going. Your status or my status means nothing to me if I don't have you. I can lose everything and I can live with that but if I lose you-" He clears his throat as he looks down, cutting himself off. "I wouldn't be able to live. To hell with what people say."

You fall to your knees as you lift his face in your hands as you placed a gentle kiss on his. He exhaled as he felt your soft lips. "Yeosang," You say when you pulled away, "I have discovered so much with you. You taught me the meaning of true love, an emotion I never truly felt before. Words cannot describe the immense joy you have brought into my life. To be in this lifetime with you is blessing. I have deemed our love to be the richest thing I have ever owned in my life." You gave him a small smile, "But I.. I need time to understand what this means for us. For me."

He removes your hands gently from his face as he brings them to his lips, placing gentle kisses on them. He closes his eyes as tears streamed down his cheek, nodding. "Of course, my love," his voice barely a whisper, "I understand."

You felt as if a rock had crushed you as the days leading up to the departure neared. There was no doubt in your heart that you loved Yeosang. But you were afraid of how the advisors would react, how the people of the kingdom would react. You would rather stop the relationship between you two then to be sent away, never seeing him again.

Here you are in his room, dreading that it is the last time you will see him in a while as it is departure day. You were summoned by him, of course. He stood in front of the mirror, mask off now, as he watches you through it, seeing how you walked back and forth from the bed to him.

He watched as you handled his armor with care, placing it on him with a gentle touch. He closed his eyes delight as he felt your hand through his hair. He opened his eyes to take in your features. The way you bit your lips in concentration, how you furrowed your eyebrows- even with his intense stare, you moved with practice precision.

You turned around to place some accessories on the bed and turned around only to slightly jump back seeing him stand there. He smiled at your actions as he placed his hands on your arms. You gave him a small smile as you lifted your hands to fasten the straps of his armor adjusting the plates to ensure they fit well. As you finished with the last piece, you hesitated for a moment, your hand lingered, slowly gliding it down to his chest.

You looked into his eyes, taking in his features as well. Admiring everything you loved about him. "I brought something." You say the breaking silence, "I want you to take this." You reached in your robe and grabbed your rose hairpin he gave you. "I wanted you to think of me." You gave a sad sheepish smile.

You grabbed his hand and placed it as you rolled his fingers to grip it well. "I'll keep it close. I will carry you in my heart." He said placing it inside his clothes. His hand take home behind your neck as he pulled you closer to him.

"You better come back to me, Yeosang." You said with heaviness in your heart. A deep rooted fear inside you as you think this might be the last time you will see him. You felt a lump forming in your throat as you felt his thumb caress your lips. "Please."

"No matter what happens," He said looking into your eyes, "I will return. Besides," He gave you a playful smile, "You think I am weak?" He asked as he tilted his head.

You chuckled as you playfully hit his chest, softly. "Keep that smile for me." He said leaning his forehead on yours, running a his thumb over your lips. "Everything is going to be okay."

He looks into your eyes for permission before looking at your lips, asking for one last time. You held onto his shoulders as you two shared a passionate kiss. Feeling his hands roaming the curvature of your back, pulling you in, wanting to feel you tightly against his body. You melted into the kiss as your hands snaked down to his biceps, gripping at them as you held on for dear life in this heated kiss.

You two pulled away, panting as you tried catching your breath. "I will come back." He says.

The sun casted over the city as people from all over gathered to watch the king and his army departure. You stood among the crowd, crossing your arms as you heart felt heavy knowing what might or might not unfold as the wind blew in your hair. Everyone then falls in silence as they see him appear on a beautiful majestic horse, dressed in his armor and matching mask.

His presence commanded attention, eyes fixed on him. "My people of the Dragon Kingdom," his voice cut through the stillness of the morning, "Today we march, but not just for our defense of our land, but for the future of our people." His eyes roamed the crowd as he took a pause. "This path that is ahead of us is fraught with danger. I know many of you may have fears and doubts. But trust in me when I say the commitment I have to our kingdom and it's people is unwavering."

His continues to gaze over the assembled crowd until it landed on you, remaining his sight on yours when he says, "We will face this challenge together," He said. You knew he meant it meant more than the war. It was also about your relationship. "I will return, not just as your King but as someone who carries the hopes and dreams of each and everyone of you within him."

The crowed roared in excitement, cheering for their ruler as they jumped and threw fists in the air. He straightens his back as he takes in the roars of the crowd. His eyes scanned one final time before looking at you once more. You mouthed I love you and watched as he nodded before lifting the rope to turn his horse. He gives his men a command as they yelled yes in unison as started marching.

You watched as they walked away, feeling a sense of sadness and pride. The crowd around you slowly starts to disperse as you watched the last of the soldiers disappearing from view, making you the only that stood there. You inhaled and exhaled remembering his words. "Everything will be okay."

Weeks have past since the departure and the absence of the king and his army hung over the entire kingdom. The usual liveliness and bustling of the daily life was replaced by this harsh silence in the palace. Like many others, you were trying to grasp this new reality. You would often find yourself wondering the garden late at night, not bothering to be caught.

You would walk into his chambers to keep things dust free, switching the bed sheets in case of his arrival at any moment. You would run your hands over his clothes, missing his warmth. At night you would run your fingertips over the note he had written you, or how you would fall asleep with the note clutched to your chest as you dreamt about him.

You would walk into the woods and stargaze alone, hearing the stream fill up your mind with tranquility. You wished upon stars every time you visited, wishing for protection over him and a safety return. As each passed you feel yourself going through a mixture of emotions that range between hope and lack of faith that everything will be okay.

One morning, you heard a pounding on your door causing you to jolt up in your bed. "Miss Y/N, the-" You stood up quickly as you ran to door, not hearing what the person was saying as it sounded muffled. You opened the door and saw a fellow palace worker with a smile on her face. "The King and the army is back!"

You stood in shock as your eyes widened at the news and in perfect timing, the bells rang signaling the arrival of the king. Never in your life have you gotten dressed so fast. You rushed to town, hearing the gravel underneath every step. You scanned around as you saw people forming a crowd quickly. "Excuse me. Sorry! Coming through." You repeated as you passed through and stumbled to the front of the crowd.

Your heart flutters at the sight of the army marching in with Yeosang in the center as he looks bloodied and hurt. The crowd roars with cheer as they seem approaching into town. You see as the palace workers rush to tend to the army and your feet didn't stop you as you ran to Yeosang. You watched as they helped him off, taking his first steps to you all wobbly causing you to grab his arm, placing it over your shoulder as you became his support while you two walked. "I told you I would come back." He whispered with a tired voice as a lazy smirk painted on his lips behind the mask.

You dumped the bucket full of warm water, lifting your arm sleeve as you placed your arm inside to check the temperature. You removed it shaking your arm to remove the excess water, "All prepared for you." You say as you turned to him and gasped when he removed his mask. "What are you doing?" You whispered at him as you tried moving the mask back to his face.

He moves your hand away and cupping your face, eagerly kissing you, "I missed you." He whispers to you, kissing you with so much love that you melt in touch. But you break the kiss, looking back the door, "Someone can walk-"

"I'm the king. No one will touch that door unless I say so." He cuts you off, thumb caressing your cheek. You gulped at how those words made your knees weak. He kisses your forehead and smirks at you, "I'll call you when I am done bathing."

You sat up straight when you heard Yeosang calling your name from inside the room. You knocked and heard a gentle come in. Your heart was beating up to your ears when you see him standing, giving his back to you as he adjusted the pants around his waist, tying up the strings.

Your eyes then capture the red scratches, bruises that was marked all over his body. He turned around with a smile but slowly dropped when he saw your teary eyes. His eyes followed your sight as he looked down and saw the the markings. He looked back at you, giving a small smile, "It's okay." He tells you as he walks to you.

A surge of emotions rushes to you as you choked back a sob as you covered your mouth, "My love," He cups your face, "Look at me," He tells you centering your face to look into his eyes, "Please don't cry. I promise you I'm okay."

You sniffed. "How can I not be saddened at the fact that you got hurt?" You say as your fingertips roam his arms, your eyes looking at his bruised stomach. "Your pain is my pain." You sniffed.

He stays silent as he takes a step back, eyes locked on yours. You watched as he turns around, head turning to the side, "Can you..." he pauses, inhaling and exhaling, "Can you touch my back?" He asked you in a whisper.

Your eyes slightly widened at his request. Your mind flashes back to when you accidently grazed it. "I won't hurt you." He said, "I promise." You were still for a second before slowly taking a step forward. You raised your hand, hovering over his back. You exhaled as you gently placed it on his back. You feel him stiffen up as he let out a shaky breath feeling your hand roaming his back, tracing his scars, finger tips grazing the bruises.

"When I first became King," He said with a slight tremble in his voice. He was trying to replace the the brutal touches with your delicate ones. "I had to undergo brutal training. One of the training methods was to not let pain affect me during a fight which involved getting beaten with a stick." He explains to you and you gasped in shock. "In order for me to succeed, I had to stand still. No reaction."

Your hands froze as tears streamed down your face. "My father thought it was a method to show endurance, resilience, and emotional control." You shook your head as you leaned your forehead on his back, placing your hands on his waist, sniffing. "A horrible way to get you to detached you from physical discomfort. One day my father got tired of me failing and took matter into his hands, causing the scar across my back."

You placed a sweet, lingering kiss on his back. He drops his head and you feel his shoulders shaking. You moved in front of him as you lifted his face to look at him. "I'm so sorry for all the pain you endured." You tell him as you two shared tears. No one spoke a word as you two fell onto your knees, you hugged him tightly as he cried into your chest as you comfort him. "For as long as I'm here. I will do all I can to protect you." You tell him as you ran your hand through his hair.

For the first time in his life, Yeosang is no longer crying alone. He has someone he can lean on. He has someone.

After the moment you two shared, you had helped him get dressed for the night of celebration. You stood along side him as he sat upon his throne. The atmosphere was different- townsfolks were singing and dancing amongst each other, some clanking wooden cups as liquor spilled out as the laughed, beautiful music coming from instruments. Everything felt right. Minus one thing- what will become of your relationship.

But it's as if your thoughts were heard when you watched Yeosang standing up, raising his hands as the festive energy momentarily hushed down. "My people," He spoke, "Tonight we celebrate those who fought bravely in battle." You watched as people raised their cups. "As well as the end of conflict of hundreds of years. From here on out, this is a new journey for our kingdom. Throughout this voyage, I have discovered many things."

He looks at his advisors who offered a subtle nods of encouragement and approval. "It is with a full heart that I must share with you all," His gaze returns to the crowd, a smile on his face behind the mask. "I have fallen in love with a beautiful woman." The crowd erupts with surprised gasps and whisperings. "But this love is not bounded by the traditions of nobility. The woman who holds my heart is not of noble birth. She is a commoner."

You tried your hardest to not show any reaction. You licked your lips as you looked down, clearing your throat. You then looked back up as you bit your tongue to focus on that pain to try and not smile because there was no way your relationship was accepted by the advisors? How did that even happen? You watched as the crowd stirred with curiosity and murmurs. "I choose not reveal her name nor face, not out of secrecy but to ensure her safety. I know her position as a commoner makes her vulnerable and I wish to protect her from any undue attention and scrutiny."

He takes a deep breath as he continues. "The values we hold dear and the future changes we will embrace in this kingdom are inspired by the person I love. It is my hope that this will lead us to a better future where every individual is valued for who they are, not for their status."

With that finishing note, the crowd cheers for the new version of this king. They sense a positive change in him, making them radiate happiness throughout this festival. From the distance, Yeosang spots the old lady from the cart to who waves and bows at him to which is returns a nod in her direction as he turns to sit back upon his throne.

He calls to you and you bend forward, "Meet me in my chambers." and you felt yourself freeze.

Here you were. In his chambers. And to say you were nervous was an understatement as you walked and forth in the center of the room as you wiped your sweaty hands on your clothes. You then hear footsteps outside which causing you to look at the door as it opens up revealing Yeosang.

He swiftly removes his mask and drops to the floor as you two run closed the distance to each others embrace, sharing a sweet kiss. You pulled bac with a smile on your face. "I-Wha-How-" You two laughed at the fact that you couldn't even speak. "How did you even convince the advisors? When did you talk to them? What did they say?" You bombarded him with questions.

He smiled as you two gently swayed side by side in love. "Let's just say I have my many ways." Basically when the advisors were going to deny him, he went full berserk mode. He explained how he is the king and he has the right to change laws as he wished, he has the right to love whomever it was, and plus he threatened to show his face but that made everyone drop to their knees and begged for forgiveness. Maybe being ruthless came in hand for certain things. "I told you I would do anything for you." He tucks your hair behind your ear.

"That you did." You smiled at him. His eyes shifted to your lips as he leans in and captures them. Your hands snaked up his arms they tugged the back of his head, feeling this kiss starting to heat up. He backs away, "May I?" He asks you as you franticly nodded, wanting his touch again.

He kisses you again as his fingertips trail from your jaw to between your breast. The slight touch makes you gasp slightly as he undies the front of your robe. He backs up slightly, both of you softly panting from the intense kiss as his hands slide into your robe, sliding your clothes of your shoulders, feeling his rough hands on your arms.

The air hits your exposed skin, your nipples harden at the cold. He kisses you once more, his hand reaching to the back of your hair as he tugs it back, exposing more of you neck as he trails his lips down causing you to moan at the sensation of the pulling and kisses. You kicked your robe that was pooled around your feet as he guides you to his bed, his mouth sucking a sweet spot on your neck.

When the bed it the back of your knees, he gentle pushed you down as he hovers over you, "You're so beautiful." He says lowly, planting a kiss right above your nipple causing you bit your lip. "I'm a lucky man." He tells you as he starts to suck your nipple as his free hand slightly pinched the other one. Your chest heaves at the feeling, throwing your head back.

He looks up at you, mouth still latched, groaning at the sight. He lets go as his lips traveled further down your stomach, causing you to clench onto nothing. He position himself between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs as he hooks his fingers at the side of your silky soaked panties. He took his time in taking them off, biting his lower lip at the glistening sight.

The way the moonlight made your body glow looked so heavenly. Watching how your juices shine as he peppers kisses along your thighs, inching closer and closer. You felt your eyes dilate as your mouth parts when he started to suck on your clit. He lets his tongue slide between your folds before returning to suck your clit.

You arched your back when you felt his fingers rubbing on it, grabbing his hair when he shoved his tongue in and out of your hole. "Oh." You moaned out. His fingers swiftly moved into you as he went back to sucking on your clit. "Oh, oh right there!" You moan out, grabbing the the bed sheets. You buckled your hips up, only for him to hook his free arm underneath your thigh, holding you in place.

You were a whimpering mess when he quickened the pace, feeling the slight burn of the stretching he gave you. His tongue was flattened between your folds as he moved his head up and down, soaking in all your juices. "I- oh- Please-" You couldn't even comprehend words right now.

He hovers over you, fingers still at work. "Please what, my love?" He asked you as he leans down to suck of your neck some more, trailing down to your nipple. The sensation sent you on a overload of pleasure. "I need you." You cried out between the moans. He smirks at the sight of you as he removes his fingers, quickly getting up, undressing himself.

You propped yourself on your elbows, your mind a haze as you watched him remove his clothing. He teasingly took of his underwear, eyes widening at the size of him. He walks back to you, hooking his arms underneath your thighs as he drags you closer to him. He leans down, "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked you and you nodded, giving him a kiss. "I've never been more sure."

His eyes stayed locked on yours as he teasingly rubbed the head between your folds, lathering it up with your juices for a smooth glide in. He then positioned himself aligned with your hole, slowly going in. You gasped at the burning sensation, mixed with pain and pleasure. You gripped at arms for dear life with every movement he did. "Slowly, Yeo." You tell him. With every move, he waits for you to give the signal to move.

Once he is fully in, you stay there for a moment to adjust to his size. Feeling tears coming in from the pain and he wipes them away as he kisses your lips. "You're doing so good, my love. You feel so, so good." He praises you. "No one can make me feel how you make me feel." He kisses your cheeks, caressing your hair. You exhale, "Yeosang," You call to him, "I'm ready."

He lifts your leg, wanting to feel them both wrapped around him as his other one supports him as he hovers over you. He slowly thrusts in and out of you, groaning at the tightness around him. The way you suck in him, makes him want to lose control. Little by little the pain is gone and replaced with just pleasure.

You moan at the way he stretches you out so good. "Faster, please." You tell him as you clench around him. "Are you sure?" He asks you. "Do it." You tell him, sounding impatient causing him to chuckle at you, "Whatever my lady wants, she get's." He says as he places his hands behind your knees as he lifts your legs over you, giving you what you want.

You screamed at the new depth of pleasure this position gave you. "Tell me, how does it feel?" He asked you in between breaths. "I- Oh- So-o go-good." You try speaking out but it was no use, you were gone. You grabbed the sides on the pillows near you head as you bit your lip down, muffling your screams. Yeosang loved this new view of you, struggling to maintain your composure as your breast bounced with each thrust. "Touch yourself." He said.

"What?" You breathed out as you looked at him. "Touch yourself for me." He repeated. One of your hands let go on the pillow as you trailed it down your stomach to your clit. You rubbed yourself, jolting in the overwhelming pleasure it gave you. "Yeosang, I think I'm- I'm close-" you cut yourself off with a moan. "Me too Y/N." You loved the way he said your name in that deep tone.

He lets go of your legs, making you gasp in shock with the sudden movement as he hovers over you once more. "Finish with me, my love. I know you can do it." He tells you as you nodded, hands gripping onto his shoulders. Soon enough you felt as if a knot undid itself. You moaned out, feeling like you're seeing white from this overwhelming feeling. He leans down and kiss you as he swallows your moans, moaning into yours as as he cock twitches at his release.

Slowly he rides out both of your highs, laying down on top of you as your hands take home in his hair. Both of your hot, sweaty, sticky bodies, but you both didn't care. You felt as if you were in heaven right now.

The morning light shined into the chamber, causing you to groan as you used your hand to cover your eyes. You heard a chuckle in-front of you. You parted your fingers, looking through them and saw Yeosang sitting his bench, back leaning against wall with his arms crossed. "What are you doing up?" You asked him as you slowly sat up, bringing the sheets up to cover your chest. He stands up and walks to you, cupping your face, "I wanted to watch you sleep. You looked beautiful."

You smiled at him, "Why don't you join me?" You asked him as you pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you kissed him. He smiled into the kiss, "I love you." He said. "I love you more." You responded.

He was propped up on one arm as his other one caressed your arm, watching you sleep again. He smiled brightly looking at the rose hairpin he was able to place in your hair without waking you up. He throws his arm over you and brings you closer to his embrace. For the first time in his life, he was happy.

THE END

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