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tojicide · 26 days ago

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OBSESSED. ☆ SYLUS QIN.

📰 extra, extra! why is your bodyguard so obsessed with you? girl, you wanna know...

warnings. nsfw, smut, mdni. porn with plot. fem!reader, popstar!reader, bodyguard!sylus. established romantic history (very brief). pet names. semi-public. fingering, oral (fem!receiving), cowgirl, unprotected p in v. wc. 4.6k

an. reused the header and a bit of the plot from an aaron hotchner fanfic i wrote on wattpad in like… 2021??? tweaked most of the details obvs but ig i was born as a bodyguard au lover

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Your bodyguard was such a buzzkill.

Dragging you out of every party you make an appearance at, replacing your shots with water once he believes you’ve had one too many, watching you like a hawk no matter where you are or who you’re with...

You despise those who have an inability to have fun, so as far as you’re concerned, Sylus is the devil reincarnated. You aren’t exactly shy about your opinions on him either, and perhaps in hindsight, that is exactly why he was currently pacing through the party you’re in attendance of to try and ruin your night yet again.

(Ruin your night or… do his job? Hell if you care about the logistics of it all. Two sides of the same coin, you think.)

His protective nature only grew more intense ever since the two of you shared a kiss before a concert of yours that left your lipstick smeared over your face like there was no tomorrow…

And what did that asshole do? Nothing. It was in his nature to make your life miserable after all. Sylus let you walk out in front of your thousands of fans, makeup messy and appearance disheveled all from his mouth on yours alone.

And boy, did the tabloids have a time with that one… Who was the culprit? A new fling of yours? Fiancé? Possible baby daddy? Each and every news outlet had some uniquely wrong to say. Can’t a girl have a makeout session with her bodyguard in peace?

Unfortunately for you, the paparazzi have been hounding you ever since that day, itching to get the 4-1-1 on your love life.

And ever since, you haven’t given many people the time of day—including Sylus. Tonight, you’ve managed to stay two steps ahead of your dear bodyguard and evade eventual capture for just a bit longer. You’re currently surrounded by a few of your friends, socialites and actors alike.

Your lips seem to flap freely when you have a few drinks in you, but tonight, you’re sober but even more talkative than ever. Your chosen topic of conversation? Your overbearing and stupidly handsome bodyguard, of course.

Too lost in your story, waving your arms around to your theatrical pleasure, you hardly noticed the way your friends’ faces paled to a ghostly shade of white, their eyes nearly bulging out of their heads and their lips parted as if they had something to say but… couldn’t.

All the while, you were too busy blowing off the steam that you’d acquired from your last encounter with the forsaken bodyguard. “…And I was like, why are you so obsessed with me?”

As fate would have it, you hear a throat clear behind you followed by an annoyed huff that you’ve grown to know like the back of your hand. You spin around, already wearing a scowl.

“Obsessed with you, hm?” Sylus says, his voice low and seemingly dangerous, though your utter distaste for the man rids him of his intimidation. “You’re quite self important. I could never live in a world where I’d fall at the feet of an egotistical popstar.”

You roll your eyes at that. Who does he think he is? Everyone loves you—all except for the disgustingly handsome man standing in front of you.

“Mm… well, you can always die an untimely death and never have to work for me again,” you reply, giving him the most passive aggressive smile known to man. “Hopefully that gives you an ounce of hope.”

“It does,” he replies, returning the same expression that you gave him.

It’s borderline infuriating how undisturbed Sylus was. No, it is infuriating. No matter how many insults you chucked his way, he never cracked. (And the one time he did, it led to the two of you playing tonsil tennis in your dressing room...)

You shake your head, huffing in utter annoyance. You then hold your wrists up for display, cocking your head to the side as you give him a mock puppy dog expression. “Sooo… are you here to take me away, Officer Buzzkill?”

Sylus merely blinks in response to your taunting, taking a firm grasp on one of your wrists before he tugs you through the sea of partygoers. He laces your fingers together, squeezing tight as to not lose hold of you.

“Must you always make things so difficult?” he asks, keeping his eyes ahead.

You shrug your shoulders. “More or less.”

“More or less?” he echoes, glancing over his shoulder to properly look at you. “I suggest you try a different style of communication, sweetness. Your clipped attitude will get you nowhere.”

“Oh? But it’s gotten me so far already…” you trail off, glancing at his lips for a few agonizingly long seconds before a smirk tugs on the corner of your mouth. “In fact, I think it can get me even further.”

Sylus’s jaw tenses, his eyes slipping shut as he tears his gaze away from you. He can’t handle the way you’re looking at him—so unbelievably beautiful with those siren eyes of yours, the mere sight of you already stirring something unwanted within him.

He turns around to continue leading you through the crowd without a reply. You begin to glance around yourself, attempting to plot your brilliant escape.

“Don’t,” he flatly states, his iron grip tightening on your hand.

“Why not?” you ask, your voice holding a strong tone of defiance.

Sylus gives your hand one solid tug before you’re standing in front of him, his free hand pressing onto the small of your back as he keeps you pressed to his chest. “If you haven’t noticed, you brat, I will always chase you. I’ll find you just the same.”

You almost deflate under his intense gaze, his deep red eyes piercing through your own. It wasn’t often that Sylus manhandled you, but when he did, it made you feel… different. Intrigued, maybe.

“How touching,” you deadpan, “but you still get on my nerves.”

Sylus clicks his tongue. “Tch. Oh, I’m sorry… when have I ever cared about what you think?”

“Never,” you say with a dramatic sigh. “You know… if you hate me so much, you should just quit on me.”

Sylus rolls his eyes, his red irises drawing you in like no other. “I don’t… hate you. You should be rather thankful that I don’t, because I’m doubtful that anyone else would want this job of mine—you’re quite the handful.”

“Mm, I’m only saying,” you murmur with a shrug, giving his hand a harsh squeeze as if the roughness of your grasp would make him let go, but he, of course, does not. “You don’t need this job, and yet, here you are.”

He raises a brow. “What do you mean by that?”

You smile, the same shit-eating grin that he has grown to be all too familiar with. “Give me your wallet.”

Sylus huffs, his broad shoulders deflating as he fishes his black leather wallet from his back pocket and hands it over to you. You take it with ease, slipping your hand from his as you crack it open.

You slip his Black Card from the sleeve, proving that he truly didn’t need the job for any monetary gain. And then, a triumphant smile graces your lips as you pull out none other than a Polaroid photo taken of you—backstage at your concert just before the kiss you two shared.

“Ooh… what’s this?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

Sylus reaches forward to try and snatch the tiny photo from you, but you are far too quick. “What are you revealing exactly? That you were secretly snooping in my wallet prior to now?”

“Yes,” you admit without hesitation, “and that you’re secretly rich and in love with me. Does that make us even?”

His jaw sets, his piercing gaze set on yours. He works to snatch the photo from you, tucking his belongings back into his wallet before he slips it into his pocket. “No. Maybe if you were less of a pain, we could be even.”

You wiggle your eyebrows in suggestion. “You’re not denying being in love with me, dear bodyguard of mine.”

Sylus gives you a deadpan expression. “Must you always be so self righteous? God forbid I am proud of you and your success.”

The genuine nature of his words set you back a step, your brows knitting together and your lips parting. If Sylus noticed the shift of your expression, he didn’t mention it. Thankfully. His cold fingers lace with yours once more, continuing the stride towards the exit of the party.

“Rather than putting on this show of yours, you truly should be thanking me for saving your reputation,” he quietly adds, his hand now curled around your waist as you approach the exit. “There is a swarm of paparazzi outside who are desperate to get their grimy hands on a picture of their beloved popstar doing something remotely scandalous.”

(And if Sylus knows anything about you, it’s that you love scandals. According to you, they ‘make life worth living’. Tch. Diva.)

You chuckle. “Aww, you care!”

“Do I care, or is it my job to look after you?” he asks, plucking his sunglasses from his pocket to place them on your face, shielding your eyes from the rapid camera flashes of the paparazzi. “Public intoxication numerous times a week is not a very good look for you, sweetie. Incredibly frowned upon.”

Your jaw sets as you listen to his words. While they are undeniably true, you don’t have any plans for admitting that—not now or in the near future.

“Making out with my bodyguard is frowned upon as well, but you didn’t seem to be complaining about that bit,” you say under your breath.

Your voice was low enough that your weighted words were almost drowned out by the booming music of the party and by the chatter of the photographers you’re about to be engulfed in. Almost.

Sylus flashes you a glare. “You shouldn’t mumble. I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

“You heard me,” you state.

He did hear you, that was exactly the problem. It was no coincidence that the two of you haven’t spoken much since your very intense lip lock. You’ve been avoiding each other, evading the invisible string that connects the two of you like both an electric current and a noose.

The tension between the two of you was tangible, palpable even—you could practically taste it just as well as you could still taste his lips on your own. It was intoxicating, imprinting, searing.

It managed to distract you from the flashing lights of the cameramen who were swarming you, capturing flick after flick of you being led through the crowd.

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “You know, you can help me out with all of this,” you murmur, gesturing towards the paparazzi. “My publicist came up with an idea that will get them off my back for a while. Give them the answers they need and… whatnot.”

“Yeah?” he asks, glancing your way. “Do tell.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, tuning out all of the chattering paparazzi who are currently surrounding you. “Be my impromptu mystery man for the cameras. I’ll give you anything you want in return, I swear it.”

Sylus hums, the sound omitting a deep rumble into the air. “Anything I want? My, my, sweets, you’ve made me an offer I cannot refuse.”

You huff, grasping onto the collar of his jacket as you pull him into you. “Just go with it.”

“Just go with wh— mmph!” Sylus’s words were muffled by your lips slotting against his in a searing kiss, his hands instinctively finding their home on the curve of your hips.

The kiss was… tame. It was supposed to be, after all. It was merely for the cameras, a way for you to put an answer to the questions that have been flooding your inbox and left your name circulating in the news for days on end.

But when Sylus’s tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you slightly pull away, muttering a faint, “Sylus, what’re you…” before he pulls you right back in, his large hand now resting on your cheek.

“If you’re going to use me like a whore at your disposal, I’d suggest you let me enjoy myself and taste you properly,” he says into your mouth, his hand shifting to tangle in your hair as he tilts you to his liking, your tongues meeting in with gentle swipes. “See? I knew you could do better than that.”

True to his suggestion, you kissed him like there was no tomorrow, your hands fisting his shirt in your palms as your lips moved in tandem with his. Lipstick and paparazzi long forgotten, you find yourself getting lost in the moment, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as his hands give your hips a firm squeeze.

The moment he hears that sweet, impossibly faint sound of your pleasure, he knows that he’s in for it now. That’ll do it for him.

He abruptly pulls away, clasping his hand onto yours as he continues pulling you through the now stunned crowd of paparazzi. Sporting an erection and your lipstick smeared on his lips makes no difference to Sylus—if anything, he enjoys the world knowing that he has the hots for the woman who he has sworn to protect.

Sylus helps you into the passenger seat of your black SUV, closing the door behind you before making his way to the driver’s seat. He peels off, driving with intention through the streets of the city.

It was now evident to you that he was driving the SUV in pursuit of his favorite lookout spot, one that overlooks the bustling city from a distance. Sylus had taken you there once before as per your request to ‘stay out a bit later’. Nothing happened then, but you have an inclination that your luck has changed.

“I know what I want from you,” he states, placing a hand on your thigh.

How did he already manage to figure out what he wants in return for helping you? A raise? A car? The blood of his enemies? You’re intrigued, raising a brow. “You do?”

“I do,” he confirms without missing a beat. “Get into the backseat.”

A gasp leaves your kiss swollen lips as you mull over the utter implications of his words. It didn’t take a genius to understand them, but you were… surprised to say the least. “I think you’re overstepping your boundaries, Mr. Qin.”

In a literal sense, sure he was. But if the two of you were going to judge based on what you two want, he absolutely wasn’t—you both knew that.

He chuckles, the sound low yet infuriatingly sexy. His hand slips beneath your skirt, his middle finger brushing along the damp spot of your panties. “Your body seems to disagree with you, ma’am.”

And if you weren’t already wet before, hearing him call you ma’am was more than enough to do it for you. “Shut up,” you grumble.

“You can make me,” he suggests, setting the vehicle into park before giving your thigh a few pats. He nods his head towards the backseat. “Go on.”

Without hesitation, you kick your heels off and crawl into the back of the vehicle, thumping down on the seat with a sharp sigh. Sylus follows you within the blink of an eye, his knees settling on the spacious floor of the car.

“What’re you…” you ask, though your eyebrows raise as the pieces of the puzzle click together in your mind. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” he repeats, his warm hands rubbing your knees as he spreads your legs apart, his lips finding the tender skin of your inner thigh. “You know… you truly should be resting for your show tomorrow evening.”

“Should I?” You bite on your bottom lip as he leans forward, nosing at your clothed pussy with a muffled moan of his own. He inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal driving him to the brink of insanity.

“You should,” he answers, pressing an open mouthed kiss on your cunt through the fabric of your panties. “You should stop talking too. You need to rest your voice just as much.”

You swallow hard, whimpering ever so softly as his fingers hook beneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down your legs to give himself access to your glistening core.

His eyes are set on your heat, his cool hands hiking your thighs over his shoulders. He rests his cheek on the warmth of your inner thigh, glancing up at you. “Because believe me, sweetie, the things that I want to do to you will not be in favor of that beautiful voice of yours.”

“Oh?” you ask, titling your head. “What will they be in favor of?”

He grins, wicked and devilishly handsome. “I’m glad you asked, because there’s someone else I’ve been wanting to hear from.”

Before you have the chance to reply, he’s already got his face delving deep between your legs, the filthy sounds of squelches and slurping filling the otherwise silent car.

“Oh, I— mmh, you didn’t answer my… my question,” you stammer out between breathy moans, your head tilting back on the headrest as your eyes flutter shut.

Sylus smiles into your pussy, pointing his tongue to accentuate the squelching noises that your heat was making, entirely wet and dripping for him.

“Can you not hear her?”

Never in your life did you think that having a man on his knees talking to your cunt would be this arousing, but… you’re fucking soaked.

“I-I can,” you gasp, cracking your eyes open to look down at him. “Fuck, you can talk to her in fifty languages for all I care, holy shit.”

He quietly chuckles, the sound sending a spark of vibrations onto your already sensitive clit. Your thighs tense, aching to close on him, but he keeps them spread with his strong hands on your thighs.

Your lips part as a string of breathy sounds leave you, beautiful moans and needy whimpers alike—all of which play as music to Sylus’s ears. It was nice to know that your mouth was good for more than just singing and bickering at him…

Teeth nibbling into your bottom lip, you glance down at him, only to be met with the most crazed eyes known to mankind. So disheveled, your slick leaking down his chin while his tongue delves into your heat like a man starved. He looks like he’s in his own pussy drunk heaven.

When you feel his pointed tongue begin to curve and lick in ways it hadn’t before, you do your best to follow his movements.

S-Y-L-U-S he spells on your puffy cunt with his writing tool of choice—none other than his stupidly talented tongue.

“You’re so—”

“Shh,” he cuts you off, his voice more like a husky whisper now. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, sucking on your clit before releasing it with a harsh pop.

Filthy sounds fill the air, your own breathy moans spilling from your swollen lips in tandem with the messy sucks of Sylus’s lips on your cunt. Not to mention, your girl truly was loud.

“Singing so beautifully for me,” he rasps, his eyes flitting up to watch your blissful expression. Lidded eyes, parted lips, flushed skin—an absolute wet dream of his come to life.

You bite your lip, hardly focused on the words coming out of his mouth. “Mmh, what…?”

“Quiet, sweets,” he repeats, hooking his hands even tighter around your thighs as he gives your heat a few more harsh licks. “I told you I was talking to her, didn’t I?”

It doesn’t take much longer for your legs to begin to tremble, your body writhing in his grasp as he sets you any way but loose. Your hips buck up, your core grinding against his wet muscle as you chase your release.

Sylus was more than eager to give it to you, redoubling his efforts while locking his hands over your legs to keep you steady enough for him to pleasure you effectively. The warmth pooling in your belly was far too much, far more intense than anything you had ever experienced before.

“Mmh, I… I’m coming,” you warn through an airy whine.

And when you do, Sylus swoops in even more greedily than before, his flat tongue lapping at your honeyed release. There was no way he would ever be able to go without tasting you like this now that he has. Fuck, he’s such a goner.

As you come down from your high, you grin with a few pants. “Look at you, falling at the feet of your ‘egotistical popstar’—mmph!”

Sylus plunges two fingers into your mouth to shut you up, rising to plant himself onto the seat beside you. “That’s hardly an insult to me anymore, my dear. I know what I am.”

He pulls his spit slick fingers from your mouth, bringing them to your pussy as he gently circles your sensitive clit. His free hand guides you through the motion of straddling his lap. With a simple nod of his head, he gestures for you to lift your shirt up, and you do.

“And what’s that?” you ask, watching as he leans forward to mouth at your breasts through the fabric of your bra.

“I’ve already told you,” he murmurs, bringing his free hand to his belt to free his cock from the confines of his pants. “A whore at your disposal.”

“I knew it,” you chuckle, though the sweet sound is interrupted by a breathy moan that he coaxes out of you once he slides his fat cockhead along your folds.

He clicks his tongue, tilting his head to the side. “Are you not going to reciprocate my affection?” he teases, grasping tightly onto your hips. “Or do I have to work a bit harder for it, ma’am?”

Your knees would have certainly buckled if they weren’t firmly planted on the leather seats of the SUV. Who would have thought that you had a thing for white-haired bodyguards who call you ‘ma’am’?

Sylus raises a brow, a cocky smirk tugging on his lips. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”

You feel your face heating up more and more the longer you look him in the eyes, shifting your hips so that the tip of his cock finally meets your entrance. “Just… shut up and put it in.”

“How demanding,” he hums, smirking ever so slightly as he uses his grasp on you to make one sharp snap of his hips, burying balls deep inside of your heat. “But as you wish, pretty.”

You cry out immediately, the burn of the stretch fading into unfolding pleasure. Eyes locked on each other’s, breaths mingling with ease, skin slicked with sweat, it was…

“Perfect,” he whispers, smoothing his hands along your hips before one reaches up to cup your cheek. He pulls you into a deep, searing kiss. “So, so perfect.”

Your movements are timid at first, you were merely testing the waters that had yet to be explored. His cock stuffed you full, his tip kissing your deepest points with ease, earning a muffled whimper from your mouth that his lips swallowed up eagerly.

Sylus begins to help you move a bit quicker, rocking your hips forward in smooth rolls, earning moans from the both of you that seemed to come straight from your guts.

“Give it to me how you like it, baby,” he encourages, both of his hands planting firmly on your waist. “Use my cock however you need it, sweets, it’s yours.”

His words have your clit pulsating around his thick shaft, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you begin to work up a pace of your own that has your heart beating wildly.

“I always… fuck—I always knew you were obsessed with me,” you jest, your grin stretching wide.

Sylus hums, the sound low and deep, his iron grip on your hips helping you maintain the intensity of your movements whenever your muscles beg for a break. “Yeah? Needed me to be buried inside of you to have that bit of confirmation?”

You nod with a smile, hands wrapping around his neck as you plant your forehead against his. He smiles too, a breathy moan leaving his mouth as you circle your hips in a way that has him seeing stars.

“Fuck yeah, I’m obsessed with you,” he admits without a semblance of shame, tilting his head back on the headrest.

Already feeling your second orgasm approaching, you bury your face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat that made a musk that was so beautifully Sylus. His hands smooth over your backside, giving your ass a squeeze.

“Tch, let me see that pretty face,” he demands, nudging you with his shoulder so that you were sitting up once more. “You look so beautiful like this.”

You struggle to form a sentence, bouncing unabashedly on his cock, skin slapping together in an erratic pattern that spurred you even further. A string of whimpers and whines leave your puffy lips. Though your reply lacked words, it perfectly communicated what you wanted to say.

“Oh, I know it, baby,” he rasps, tilting his head back again as his eyes slip shut. “Pussy’s addictive—shit, I’m obsessed with her too.”

You begin to lose yourself all together, reduced to nothing more than a blissed out woman riding her bodyguard’s cock. “Sylus, I… mmh, I’m gonna cum.”

He nods in understanding, smoothing his hand through your hair as he brings you in for another kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue, messy and drooling in the most beautiful way possible.

“Gonna come inside you if you keep riding me like this, baby,” he warns, pulling back to look you in the eyes.

You feel his cock twitch inside of you, as if it were confirming his words. You don’t do this often, contrary to popular belief, but you are on the pill. Luckily. “Please do.”

Sylus pants through a smile, licking his lips as he guides you through a few more fleshed out grinds on his lap. “Huh… you really are something special.”

A deep groan leaves his mouth as he dips his head, grip tightening on your waist as you ride him through your shared orgasm. You aren’t sure where yours ended and his began, or if you had gotten the order wrong entirely. All you know is that in that moment, the two of you became one.

Panting, your hand plants on the fogged up window of the vehicle, leaving your handprint in its wake. Sylus lets out a breathy chuckle, raising his own shaking hand to the window.

You watch through lidded eyes as he draws a tiny heart, writing his and your first initials inside of it with a little + in the middle. How cute.

Sylus then turns to face you again, bringing his hand to your cheek. You nuzzle into his palm, placing a kiss on his skin. “I have something to admit.”

He nods his head a single time, beckoning you to continue. “What is it?”

You give him a wry smile. “My publicist never gave me the idea for that publicity stunt.”

“…I figured that much, sweetie.”

note. bodyguard!sylus, my glorious king… ok i lowkey hate this but it holds no purpose saving up space in my drafts so :D pls interact if you enjoyed, rbs are greatly appreciated <3 thank you for readingggg !!!

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#♥︎ tojicide #sylus x y/n #sylus x you #sylus qin #l&ds sylus #lnds sylus #sylus smut #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus #love and deepspace #love & deepsace x reader #love & deepspace #lnds smut #lnds #lnds x reader #au

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watchmegetobsessed · 7 months ago

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MAKE HER REGRET IT

A/N: i was really in the mood for some smut and the neighbors trope popped into my head, so here we are!

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry, your freshly divorced, insanely hot neighbor needs your help: you have to pretend to be his new girlfriend when his ex-wife comes over, however your little stunt outdoes your expectations in a lot of ways.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

It's a basic instinct for you at this point to look up at the balcony whenever you’re approaching your apartment building. However you’re not looking at yours, but the one next to yours that belongs to one hot, freshly divorced guy who moved in next door about two months ago.

You remember the morning the moving truck appeared and you knew someone was taking the vacant apartment beside yours. You just arrived back from your morning run and you jumped right into guesses about who it will be. Maybe someone your age? A girl you can go to yoga with? Or a sweet old lady you can have tea with on warm afternoons? Hopefully not a noisy family, because the walls are way too thin to endure the screaming of a child.

Then you saw him. Carrying a heavy looking box up the stairs, a simple white shirt stretching on his torso, tattooed arms flexing under the weight of the box, you knew you were fucked the first time you saw Harry Styles.

It took you no time to lurk over the next day and introduce yourself as his neighbor.

“If you need suggestions for coffee spots around the neighborhood, I’m your person,” you smiled at him charmingly as he stood in his doorway in gray sweats and a black t-shirt, hair messy but so delicious, it was screaming for your fingers to run through his locks.

“I will definitely keep that in mind. I can offer to fix anything around your apartment, I’m kind of a handyman,” he chuckled and your knees almost buckled hearing his creamy british accent.

Fate played on your hand, because you kept running into each other so it didn’t take long for you to go out for a coffee run together and it was smooth sailing from then. You learned about how he just got divorced, his wife cheated on him and he found out on their second anniversary, tragic story and you still can’t quite understand how any woman could cheat on a man like him. You practically drool every time you catch a glimpse of him arriving back from a run in nothing but a pair of shorts, his tanned skin glistening from sweat. You definitely love to move out to the balcony around the time he can be expected to appear in the late afternoon, you watch him stretch and breathe heavily and the sight alone makes you break a sweat as well, but for a whole different reason.

You’ve been trying to flirt with him every possible occasion, but you also make sure you don’t come off too pushy. After all he just got out of a marriage, it must be hard on him to recover from being cheated on. There’s also a slight age difference between the two of you, not that dramatic, but that eight years could easily be a deal breaker for him, so you’ve been playing it safe.

When you’re lying in bed late at night and sleep is not coming to you, you can’t help but think of how he is on the other side of the wall, you imagine him sleeping without a shirt, maybe thinking about you the way you like to think of him… But it’s all just a fantasy, one you fancy very much.

The door to his balcony is open so you know he is home, but he is not out. You take your time walking up the stairs, your legs are definitely tired from the run you just had and just when you reach your floor Harry’s front door swings open and you stop, watching him walk over to your door. He didn’t notice you, so you stay still and watch him take a deep breath as he lifts his fist up to knock, but then it falls back to his side and he shakes his head, stepping backwards before returning to his spot on your doormat and that’s when you decide to put him out of his misery.

“Are you out of sugar, neighbor?” you ask, slowly walking towards him. Harry spins around with a stunned expression.

“Oh, I didn’t–I didn’t see you.” You catch his gaze running down your body and legs and you’re thankful you decided to wear your shortest shorts.

Playing with your keys in your hands, you finally reach him.

“What’s up?”

“Um… I have a bit of a situation on my hands and you might be able to help me.”

Unlocking the door you push it in and gesture for him to follow you inside.

“Do tell me.”

Rounding your way into the kitchen you step to the fridge to grab some water. Harry hesitantly follows you and stops by the kitchen counter.

“So, I talked to Rory this morning,” he starts. You’ve heard enough about Rory, his ex wife to know that if she’s involved, it’s for sure something messy. “You know that painting in my living room?” You nod. “Well, she insists it’s hers, because a friend of hers painted it, but I was the one who paid for it. Whatever. She’s been trying to get me to give it to her and honestly I’m over it so I gave in. She is picking it up today.”

“When will the part where I can help come?”

“Right here,” he chuckles nervously. “We got into a fight, no surprise. She screamed at me over the phone and told me I’ll die alone because no one can put up with my shit.”

You need to force yourself to swallow the bitterness in your mouth. That woman sounds very much like the spawn of the devil, because who would say that to anyone? Especially to Harry? Aside from being insanely hot you’ve also learned just how kind, passionate and funny he is, basically the whole deal. Rory is the biggest loser in history for letting go of a man like him.

“One thing followed the other and I just… Um, I told her that I have someone.”

The light bulb switches on in your mind, because you already know where this is heading. And you like it, very much.

“I don’t know what got into me, but I told her she can meet my alleged girlfriend when she picks up the painting so she can see herself that I’m not the loser she thinks I am. And… as you might now, I do not have anyone…”

“You want me to be your fake girlfriend,” you finish for him, saving him from having to say it out loud. You can see just how awkward he is, having to ask you for such a thing.

“Basically, yeah. Only if you don’t mind being part of this shitshow. I understand if you find it weird and I don’t expect you to–”

“When should I be over at yours?” you simply ask and watch his eyes go wide.

“Y-You will do it?”

“Sure, sounds fun. Besides, I’m curious to see the stupidest woman on earth,” you add smirking and he finally lets out a relieved laugh as well.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Really, I owe you big time. She’ll be here in about two hours.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there.”

For the next two hours, you do everything you can to bring out the hottest version of yourself. Hair, makeup, dress, everything is on spot when you step out of your apartment and walk over to Harry’s door, ringing the bell.

When the door swings open and Harry sees you his mouth hangs open, giving you that one last ego boost you need to be the best possible fake girlfriend ever.

“Satisfied with your girlfriend?” you ask, tilting your head.

“I-I uh–Yeah! I’m… yes.”

“Can I go inside then?” you ask with a chuckle and he steps aside in a hurry.

“Sorry, yeah come inside.”

“So what’s the plan?” you ask, walking into his living room and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Harry follows, but he takes the armchair across you and you can tell he is still struggling with not ogling you, especially your exposed legs and deep cleavage the dress teases him with.

“I don’t… I have no idea, I have never done this before.”

“I have.”

“Really?”

“Just once, in college. One of my friends broke up with a girl who did not take it well and I was his fake girlfriend for a week to get her to stop harassing him. It worked.”

“Then… I trust you with anything.”

“What’s the goal?”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes, as if he is embarrassed to say what’s on his mind.

“Harry, say it. I’m happy to help with anything.”

“I want to make her regret it.”

“Regret what she said?”

“Regret everything,” he corrects and when he looks you in the eye a shiver runs down your spine from the determination that’s behind his green irises.

“Consider it done,” you smile at him devilishly.

At your suggestion you both take a shot to ease your nerves and make it easier to lie. It seems to loosen him just enough that he doesn’t look like he is about to attend an interrogation.

And then the bell rings.

“Show time,” you smile at him and as he walks over to the door you take your place on the couch again.

You hear the door open and then a female voice mixes with Harry’s before the footsteps follow. Harry comes into view first, but then Rory steps out from behind him and you see the pure shock in her eyes when she finally spots you.

“Oh, hi!” you smile at her almost disgustingly sweetly as you stand from the couch and walk closer. “You must be Rony. I’m Y/N.” You hold out a hand for her and watch as her mouth twitches when she hears you mess her name up.

“Rory,” she sassily says and shakes your hand at last. “So you’re the… girlfriend.” The disgust in her tone is apparent, she is not even trying to hide it and it just makes it way more enjoyable.

“Yes and you must be the cheating ex-wife.”

Harry coughs beside you, he was not expecting you to be this blunt, but the look on Rory’s face is priceless, because she can’t deny what she is. Moving closer to Harry you wrap an arm around his waist and though at first he freezes at your closeness, he is quick to recover and join in on the act, his arm finding your waist as well.

“The painting is over there, just take it and let’s get over with it, alright?” Harry nods towards the painting he already took off the wall, now it’s leant against the console table that’s been underneath it.

“You didn’t even wrap it?” she scoffs. How am I supposed to take it like this?”

“Rory, I’m not a fucking gallery. You wanted the painting, take it.”

“It’s gonna be ruined if I just put it into my car like this!” she argues.

“That’s none of my business.”

“Harry, this is so not okay! I can’t–”

“Jesus, Rory fine! I think I have some bubble wrap,” he grunts, heading into his bedroom to find something to wrap the painting in, leaving the two of you alone.

Rory gives you another long, dirty look, as if you were the woman Harry cheated on her with when she is the culprit of this mess here.

“So how long have you been together?” she then asks, pretending like she is just chit chatting, but you know she is eager to know everything about you.

“A little over a month now. You know, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but Harry is just the perfect guy and I couldn’t stay away from him.”

“Oh, he is not that perfect, little girl.”

It’s obvious she tried to derogate you by calling you a little girl, she must be around the age of Harry, not more than thirty-six for sure, but she can’t find anything to use against you other than the fact that you’re clearly in your twenties. How mature.

“I know. But everything he can give me makes it worth it. And the sex, ah!”

She gives you a puzzled look. You knew this would stir her up, Harry mentioned how distant they grew in the last few months and sex wasn’t the same anymore. Looking at the timeline she must have started her affair around that time and Harry couldn’t perform the way he otherwise could because she wasn’t open to him anymore. It was a vicious cycle, but you also know Rory is the kind of woman who must have humiliated him because of that. Harry never said, but you just feel that she criticized his sexual performance when she left him even if it all happened because of her.

And now hearing that he is giving his all to another woman is definitely something that can drive her nuts.

“Oh please, he sucks in bed,” she scoffs.

“Not with the right partner. He is so good, I honestly don’t know how you could let go of him.”

“He couldn’t make me cum for months!”

“That’s unfortunate. I get an orgasm basically after every meal. He is so good at it, honestly, it’s like he just wants to please me every possible moment. I mean, I can’t remember a morning when I didn’t wake up with his head between my legs, he loves quickies, I have to sanitize the kitchen counter like twice a day.” You let out a chuckle and just watch as her face grows redder while staring at the kitchen counter, raging jealousy swirling in her mind for sure. It’s clearer than daylight that she didn’t cheat on him because he wasn’t manly enough, this woman is simply a stupid loser who couldn’t appreciate what she had, maybe panicked that she can’t mess around with others and then simply chose to ruin everything.

You’re more than happy to remind her what she lost.

“Alright, this is all I got,” Harry emerges from the bedroom with some bubble wrap he probably had left from moving, but when he sees you and Rory staring each other down, he stops. But before he could speak up, you decide to push that knife into Rory’s chest as your final move.

Stepping over to Harry you push yourself up against him, he drops the bubble wrap and his hands grab you by the waist instantly, though you see confusion in his eyes before you take his face in your hands and pull him closer, lips pressing against his hungrily.

It’s not a sweet, shy first kiss. This is the perfect show off, messy, passionate, full of tongue and eagerness as you practically devour each other. For a bit you forget about the show you’re putting up and it’s your real desire you’ve been fighting for weeks now. Every time you try to pull back Harry just keeps demanding more and you happily give him what he wants. He bites into your bottom lip when one of his hands moves down to your ass, giving it a not-at-all shy squeeze, making you moan into the kiss.

It feels like it takes forever for you to stop, when you open your eyes you’re met with Harry’s hungry eyes, his lips are slightly swollen and shiny from your kisses.

And then you remember you’re not alone.

“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you both!” Rory pops the bubble around you and when you turn to look at her, she is already grabbing the painting, not even bothering to wrap it.

“It was nice to meet you!” you call after her.

“Fuck you!” she repeats, marching towards the door and you’re just smirking like an idiot, pleased with yourself for pissing her off so badly.

Harry follows her to shut the door behind her and you let yourself bathe in the sweet victory you just earned.

“This went amazing, right? She was so mad, oh my God!” you laugh, but your smile quickly disappears when you realize the serious look on Harry’s face as he is walking back towards you.

Shit, maybe the kiss was too much. He didn’t want it and now he is pissed at you.

“Are you mad about the kiss? I-I’m sorry if it was too–”

The words die down on your lips when they crash against his again, his hand cupping the back of your head while the other returns straight to your ass, groping you so hard your whole body smashes against his.

Your mouth opens in surprise and it gives him the chance to push his tongue against yours, he is demanding, rough and so much more raw than what you imagined him to be like.

“What did you tell her?” he asks against your mouth, moving you around until the small of your back hits the kitchen counter. “What did you tell her that made her so pissed?” he demands, his hand already eagerly moving underneath your dress. He presses two fingers against your clothed clit, making your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“I said, ah–I said I wake up every day with… your head between my legs, and… Oh fuck!” You’re losing your ability to speak your thoughts as his fingers start circling, the fabric of your underwear is so drenched, if you could think straight you might be embarrassed just how aroused he made you so fast.

“And?” he urges you to continue, but at the same time he pushes your underwear to the side and pushes two fingers into you without warning, making you gasp so loud that people on the street must have heard it through the open balcony door.

“A-and that you fuck me on the… the kitchen counter all the time.”

He curls his fingers inside you as he keeps talking.

“Then that’s what I’ll do to you now. Are you okay with that?” he asks and you nod eagerly as you hold onto his broad shoulders.

The next moment he pulls his hand back and you whine, feeling empty all of a sudden, but then he lifts you up and makes you sit on the counter, he lowers himself and places your legs over his shoulders with careful, but confident moves. You grab onto his hair as he pushes his head between your thighs and his mouth meets your clit.

“Oh, fuck! Harry!” you gasp out, tugging on his hair as he swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, his fingers teasing your hole again. Then they push into you and he sucks on your clit, making you see stars.

You imagined him to be skilled, but whatever it is he is doing to you, it feels out of this world and now you know you weren’t wrong when you praised him that much to Rory before.

You’re totally out of breath when he comes up, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on his tongue, your hands impatiently tug on his shirt to get rid of it. Soon the fabric lands on the tiled floor and you map out every inch of his hard chest with your palm and while you keep kissing like there’s no tomorrow, you faintly hear the zipper of his pants come undone.

You look him in the eyes when you reach down and take his hard length into your hands and you can’t hold back a gasp when you realize just how big he is.

“I know you can take it, baby,” he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth and you’re ready to take him right then and there, but he moves back, making you reach for him in panic. “Condom,” he says and you lean back onto your elbows with a sigh as you watch him disappear in his bedroom. You have just a few seconds you process that here you are, on top of Harry’s kitchen counter, with your dress bunched up around your waist, your drenched pussy on show, waiting to be fucked properly. You definitely did not expect this outcome when you woke up this morning, but you’re not complaining.

Then Harry appears and he is walking over to you, completely naked, his dick in his hands as he rolls the condom on while moving and you bite into your bottom lip, hoping to remember this view until the end of time.

When he reaches you again he simply curls his arms around your thighs and tugs on you so you get closer to the edge. His erection wedges between your wet folds and the tip pokes against your clit, making you clench around nothing.

“I have to admit, I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on this counter since the day I moved in and saw you for the first time.”

“Just on the counter?” you ask teasingly.

“Every surface of this fucking apartment,” he admits with no remorse.

“Make a list then and I’m more than happy to do them all. But let’s tick the counter off first.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

He reaches down and circles his thumb against your clit a bit before grabbing his dick by the base and dragging it up and down your cunt a few times before pushing the head in first, letting you adjust to his thickness first. When you claw at his chest he takes it as a sign to go deeper and he keeps pushing until you take his whole length, feeling fuller than ever before.

“I want to go hard,” he breathes out, staying still for now.

“Go hard then. I can take it,” you assure him, though you do have doubts feeling just how stretched out you are now.

“Of course you can. You’re my good girl,” he praises you and before you could get a word out, he pulls back and slams into you hard.

There are moments when you actually think you’re about to burst, Harry did not joke when he said he wants to go hard, his thrusts are fast and rough and he makes sure he buries his whole length into you every time he pushes into you. At one point he pulls your legs over his shoulders and it allows him to reach a point in you no one has before and it pushes you towards the edge rapidly. The counter is painfully hard underneath you, but you somehow forget about the pain and only focus on how hard Harry is railing into you. His stamina is incredible, your body already feels like goo and you’re not even doing the actual work.

“Harry, I’m so close,” you moan and his fingers dig deeper into your thighs at your words.

“Come around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you squeeze me.”

You cry out his name again, a tear rolling down your cheek, because you’re so desperate to let go. Harry moves a hand to where you meet and his thumb returns to your clit and that’s what throws you over the edge.

Your back arches and you squeeze around him uncontrollably, gasping for air as he ruthlessly keeps fucking into you.

“That’s it, baby. You look so fucking beautiful, coming on my cock.”

You can’t stop moaning as you ride out your orgasm. The last waves are washing over your body when his movements fall out of rhythm, he slams into you hard and he sucks on his breath before moaning out your name over and over again, pushing into you a few more times as he comes. He falls forward, his face burying into your heaving chest as he tries to catch his breath along with you. There’s a long minute of silent bliss, his cock is still inside you, his lips peppering soft kisses onto the skin that’s exposed on your chest while you’re mindlessly playing with his hair.

When he straightens up he pulls out of you, the empty feeling hitting you again. He carefully helps you off the counter, but keeps his arms around you, because when your feet hit the floor you wobble.

Nuzzling your nose against his chest you take the cross pendant on his necklace between your teeth and pull back, looking him in the eyes.

“Don’t do that, or we’re moving to the next place on the list.”

Giggling you let go of it and push yourself up to steal a kiss.

“Give me some time to recover, but I’m all in to check out another place.”

“Jesus, I knew you’d be the death of me the moment I saw you,” he breathes out, before his mouth claims yours hungrily.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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sacredsorceress · 3 months ago

Text

Scars / Logan Howlett

pairing: dofp!logan howlett x mutant!reader summary: every person has a soulmate. after settling in the future that he saved, logan starts to consider his next mission when a suspicious mark appears on him. word count: 3.2k a/n: good ol'fashioned soulmate AU. this is the first actual fic i've written in a long time so please have some grace. reblogs and replies are super appreciated! warnings: general mentions of logan's past, scars, self-doubt, alcoholism, reader smokes a cigar, mentions of razors, scars, wounds, two uses of y/n

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It had been a week since Logan woke up in his healed timeline.

For most people, the change would have been dramatic. But Logan was far unlike most people. The initial dreamlike state he was in when he first walked through the mansion- seeing the ghosts he had once known returned to the flesh, unscathed- quickly subsided. Logan had always been a man thrown onto a new path- how he lived life constantly changing to best fit his interests. Now, with his newfound peace he found the most complicated mission of all: what to do with the life he was now free to live?

Even before the sentinels, the battles, the wars- he had always been a man on the run. He was solo, strategic, concise. For a man who was gifted with infinite regeneration, he had solely concerned himself with staying alive. He ate for sustenance, sought shelter for safety, and nursed a bottle to find enough peace of mind to sleep at night.

The professor had once told him that for a person to reach self-actualization they first had to have all of their needs met. Logan had scoffed at the time, assuring the professor that he knew himself just fine. But now, with his problems so solved that they had ceased to ever exist, he wondered if maybe the professor was right.

Who was he? Where did he go from here?

The answer was found in the form of a scar on his hand.

"Well, everything seems to be just fine."

Logan scoffed at the blue man in front of him

"Well it's not." Logan said. "Check again."

Two days after he had come back, a large, circular scar had appeared on the palms of each of his hands. When they hadn't disappeared after two minutes, he rushed to the bathroom and nicked himself with his razor, watching as the wound healed with only blood dripping down his scruff as a remanent of it. Thirty minutes after that he found himself in the lab with Hank, Jean, and the Professor hypothesizing his miraculous marks.

"Logan, the tests came back clear." Jean assured him, leaning against the wall. "Maybe it's time to consider that it's something else."

Logan quirked his head towards her.

"I haven't had a scar in over two hundred years," he reminded her, his voice laced with irony. "I get not one, but two and you... what? Think it's a coincidence?"

Before Jean had a chance at rebuttal, the professor moved to face Logan.

"That's not what Jean's inferring, Logan." Charles reminded him. "We're simply asking that you consider other options. Less... dire options. It could, after all, be a good thing."

"Yeah?" Logan scoffed. "Like what?"

A silence hung in the air.

When Logan had first come to them with news of his scar, the thought had been on all three of their minds. Still, there were a plethora of things that could have caused that. Though, when the tests came back clear and his skin continued to heal from all sorts of abrasions, it felt as if there was only one answer for his seemingly magical scars.

However, none of them were keen on sharing this diagnosis with Logan. One wondered whether he'd handle the idea of his body failing him over fated love.

Hank was the first to speak up.

"Like a soulmate."

Oh that was rich, Logan thought.

Logan wasn't unfamiliar with the idea of soulmates.

Around the time that two fated lovers were destined to meet, there would be a sign for each of them. In some cases they were eyes changing colors, feeling the other's pain, finding their names everywhere they looked. In other cases they were new birthmarks, tattoos, scars.

In some way, the two were inextricably connected.

In his long life he had seen others experience it dozens if not hundreds of times. When the first thirty years of his life rolled around with no one, Logan accepted that he was one of the outliers. He considered it for the best and by now, with everything that he had gone through, the concept of soulmates almost seemed like an old wives' tale.

Logan glanced at their faces. When he realized they were serious, a deep laugh escaped from his gut. There was a lack of light in his eyes that admitted his insincerity.

"So I disappear for a few decades and you all start believing in fairytales?" Logan pulled the needles from his arm, the heart rate monitor going flat as he did. "What a bunch of bullshit."

Jean laid her hand against his chest, urging him back into the seat.

"Logan." She soothed him. "This is a good thing. Scott and I-"

Oh this was real rich.

"Scott and you are... what, huh?" Logan urged. "Soulmates?"

Logan scoffed, swiping Jean's hand from his chest.

"Bet you're so happy with your 'soulmate' and that's why you lead me on, huh? That it? You're happy?" He taunted, a dark laugh escaping him once more. "Spare me-"

"Logan, that's enough!"

The professor's voice echoed against the linoleum walls of the lab, reverberating off of the medical equipment throughout.

"If you want to wallow in your own self-deprivation, be my guest, but spare the rest of us your grief." Charles continued. "I think it would be best if you go back to your quarters and consider the future the universe has offered you."

The energy in the air was thick.

Jean and Hank avoided Logan’s eye contact while the professor’s nearly burned a whole through him.

Accepting defeat, Logan threw his hands up in the air and pushed himself out of his metal chair.

“Fine.”

Soulmates. Logan thought. Who would believe in a thing like that?

"It's a pleasure to see you again."

The atmosphere in the mansion was a stark contrast to the lab Charles had been in days before.

Now the school day had commenced: children skipping from class to class, students chatting with their friends in the hallway, teachers grabbing coffee between lessons. Amidst the organized chaos, Charles had arranged to meet you in the foyer: the replacement history teacher for Logan's class.

"You too, professor." You smiled, reaching out your hand. "I was so glad to hear from you."

Your hand hung in the air briefly, awaiting his return. Charles examined it for a moment- a twinkle in his eye- before taking it. His thumbs brushed against the newfound scars between your knuckles as he did.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you didn't always have these scars, did you, Y/n?" Charles asked.

You had not.

You had woken with them a few days before. Despite your powers rooted in chaos magic, it wasn't uncommon for blemishes or wounds to etch themselves into your skin. However, you often knew why. These marks, scars, were not faint, but instead quite profound. Three thick, healed over wounds patched together like a stitch on the back of each of your hands.

"No professor."

He closed his eyes, a soft smile gracing his lips. Though you knew he wished to ask more questions, the moment was broken by Logan.

"Ah, the man himself." Charles beamed. "Logan, I'd like you to meet Y/n. She'll be covering your class."

You had seen your fair share of news stories about the Wolverine. Who hadn't? Though the television had never prepared you for just how tall, or broad he was.

"It's nice to meet you, Logan."

"You too." He nodded, taking your hand.

His hand lingered in yours for a moment. Charles cleared his throat.

"We were just discussing the most peculiar scar on Y/n's hand." Charles said. "Appeared just a few days ago out of nowhere."

Charles nodded his head in the direction of your hand, leading Logan to squint. As if a light bulb had gone off over his head, Logan glanced between Charles and yourself and with your hand still in his, he turned it examine the back.

Three scars between your knuckles. Right where his own claws would be.

Though he liked to imagine himself as the patron of remaining suave, Logan's eyebrows shot up at the recognition. He traced his view from your hands, up your torso, to your face where you eyed him questioningly.

He thought back to the way that he woke up in the seventies, wrapped in the arms of another woman. If times had been different and Logan hadn't undergone all the so-called character development in the last forty years, he was sure that a face like yours would have gotten him in a lot of trouble. You were beautiful, and your demeanor highlighted your strength.

Your face radiated kindness, warmth and most of all, sincerity- a trait that was difficult to come by in a trade such as his.

But then Logan recalled that this wasn't the seventies and you weren't at some bar leading him on the entire night: your hand was in his and, according to everyone else, he was yours.

The idea almost couldn't register in Logan's brain.

"Interesting, isn't it, Logan?" Charles asked, breaking the silence. "Almost identical to where your claws are, hmm?"

Oh the professor thought he was quite funny.

Logan pulled his hand back from your grasp and shook his head.

"Not that easy, Charles." Logan commented before turning to you, a spiteful tone in his voice. "See you around, bub."

Before you had the chance to open your mouth, you watched as Logan stomped down the nearest hallway, his boots squeaking against the floorboards as he did. His fists clenched and released at his sides as he disappeared from view.

His reaction had come so far from left field that if it hadn't given you whiplash, it would have hurt your ego. Instead you turned back to the professor.

"Was it something I said?" You asked.

The professor shook his head, patting your hand gently.

"Logan's quite a complicated man." He assured you. "I'm sure you'll come to know that more than the rest of us. Now, to your classroom..."

Glancing over your shoulder to the void-like hallway that Logan went down, you considered the professor's words.

A storm had taken over the mansion by nightfall.

As you padded down the wood panelled hallways, the lightbulbs shook in their glass with each thunder clap- wind swatting at the window panes every few seconds. The pitter patter of the raindrops, although harsh, was comforting. It was almost as if the mansion had been engulfed by the storm, trapping everyone inside, while consequently making the outside world feel a thousand miles away.

When you found Logan's door, tucked in at the end of the hallway, you knocked.

"Yep."

The weight of the door fell against the palm of your hands as you pushed it open.

Logan's room was dark. The only light in the space had been from the embers of the cigar that hung in his mouth, cradled between his thumb and forefinger. Despite the darkness, you could make out his figure sitting at his desk chair by the window, feet kicked up on the sill.

Logan only gave you a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to the view.

"What d'you want?"

His voice was thick and rough around the edges.

"I came for your textbooks." You replied, tiptoeing against his floorboards. "The professor said you'd have them."

The hand of his that held the cigar waved around. Minuscule ashes fell to the floor as your eyes remained trained on the light and the faint glow of the moon that illuminated the side of his face.

"Be my guest," he said. "Don’t have a clue where they are."

The professor had given you the lowdown when he saw your scars.

Charles told you that despite everything that you had learned- the history that you had known- the Wolverine you'd meet was not the same person. He was a man from a different time with far different, darker memories and enough baggage to weigh down dozens.

Amidst the silence, you cleared your throat.

"Must be hard to wake up in someone else's life."

By now you had reached his desk, your fingertips tracing the lines in the dark, lacquered wood.

You could smell him and the cigar from this distance- aftershave mixed with smoke.

"The professor tell you that?"

"Mhm."

The chair creaked as Logan flicked his hand towards the window, ushering you to come closer.

Watching your step in the dark, you maneuvered around the furniture and sat beside Logan on his desk- pushing loose papers to the side.

"He give you his whole spiel on soulmates too?" He asked, eyes trained on the rain outside.

Soulmates.

Now that was the last thing you expected to come from the Wolverine's mouth.

You'd heard of them more times than you could count. You once wondered whether every repetitive coincidence was a sign that your person was coming. But, when that never happened, you lost hope.

Who got to tell you who you belonged to anyway?

Leaning over, you gingerly took the cigar from his grasp and replaced it with your own fingers. Sitting back into the desk as lightening struck a tree in the distance, you took a puff.

"So that's what the scars on my hands were all about," You thought aloud.

The window fogged as you let the smoke leave from your mouth in a breathy sigh.

Logan tapped his fingers on his thighs, counting the seconds between a lightening strike and its consecutive rumble of thunder.

"Listen, I'm no prince charming if that's what you came here looking for."

Logan's chair creaked again as he leaned back in his seat. His arm draped against the desk as he met your gaze.

You chuckled and held out his cigar, offering it back to him.

"I came here looking for textbooks." You laughed. "You're the one who keeps talking about soulmates. I think you're more of a romantic than you let on.”

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the cigar back into his own hand. Another lightning strike met the ground in the distance, a clap of thunder following moments afterwards.

"You don't buy it?" Logan quirked his eyebrow. It was a teasing question, one he was curious to hear your answer to.

You shrugged.

"I don't think the universe gets to tell me who to love," you said. "If I fall in love with you it's because I love you, Logan. Not because some mark told me to. I just think of it as... a little shove in the right direction.”

The corner of his mouth quirked into a smile for the first time.

"A shove?"

"Like a... blind date." You finished. "Ever been on one of those?"

A congested laugh escaped him.

"Sweetheart, do I look like the type of guy to go on a blind date?"

You bit the inside of your cheek at the name.

Rolling your eyes, you swatted at his arm. You wouldn't admit how much it hurt your knuckles to do so. You'd have to make a mental note to remember his adamantium skeleton.

"Gosh, you're cocky!"

Logan shrugged, "You're the one who likes it apparently."

You felt yourself grow hot at his accusation.

Even though he had a mark signalling his future affection for you, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed by Logan's knowledge of yours. You felt like a child who's crush had just been exposed to the whole class. Was he noting ever glance that you gave him? The way you didn't move when his arm brushed against yours?

A brief pause hung in the air until another thunder clap reverberated against the walls.

"So what's your mark?" You asked.

Logan shoved the cigar into the corner of his mouth. The biting motion forced him to flex his jaw in a way that you would refuse to admit made you start to realize that maybe the universe was right.

And that maybe his cockiness was justified.

He laid out his hands for you. The room was still dark, making the ability to discern the details of his scar impossible. Taking Logan's hands in yours, you summoned your magic into your hands, watching as they glowed gold.

Logan had two large, circular scars imprinted into his palms. It was a clear indicator of your own magical power that surged from your hands.

It left a feeling you couldn't describe in your chest to know that someone else was marked for you. They were destined for you. To be with you. You had a future written together before the two of you had met. Even if he rejected you, there was a sign etched into his skin that bound the two of you together in some fateful way.

Gently, you traced your fingertips against the mark, feeling the warmth that radiated from his palms.

When your eyes flicked upwards, you noticed how close the two of you were now sitting. You could feel his warm breath against your lips as the lingering smell of the cigar drifted up your nose.

Although he wouldn’t admit it, Logan was enchanted by the energy radiating from you. Whether people hated or loved him, his ability got a lot of talk. In his mind though, he would never be a hero. He was just some guy who got lucky.

You, though? He didn’t need you to tell him that you were an Omega level mutant. Logan had heard about you from the professor: you could cast spells, read minds, reconfigure reality- to name a few. You didn't need a reason to fight for what's right, you just did. Again, and again, and again. Even here, now, you were picking up Logan's history class when he knew very well you could be on the other side of the world sipping pina coladas if you wanted.

What the hell was the universe thinking putting you with him?

Logan admired the reflection of the magic on your cheeks and the way your eyes stayed trained on his palms. Your touch was so gentle he could have sworn he was in a distant dream until your eyes met his.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, gaze locked.

Then another clap of thunder shook the mansion.

You quickly leaned back, pulling your hands from Logan's touch.

"I should... I should go." You said, pushing yourself off of Logan's desk. "It's getting late and I have my first class in the morning."

Logan leaned back in his seat. He said nothing but eyes remained fixed on your form as you made your way towards the door.

Looking back at him with your hand on the knob you made a mental note to remember the image of him with his feet kicked back on the window as he smoked his cigar.

A soft smile remained.

"Good night, Logan."

When you didn't leave immediately, he nodded.

"Night, sweetheart."

Mustering up the courage to shoot him one last smile, you pulled open the door and stepped outside.

Now, Logan didn't know how much he believed in soulmates, but he could be inclined to consider that it was one good wingman.

Leaning back in his seat, Logan sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself drown out his worries with the sound of the rain.

a/n: my inbox is open for more requests! thank you for the request @welcometochilis585

#wolverine #logan howlett #logan #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine fluff #wolverine fanfiction #xmen #xmen fanfiction #deadpool and wolverine

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thesacrificialdove · 2 months ago

Text

tags two cocks, hypnosis, kidnapping, dub-con, praise kink, light sub naga, oviposition, breeding kink, aftermath of mind control, altered memories

—📜" Making your way back to the campsite, a kind stranger guides you back to where you're needed. With him

Recounting your steps would be futile. It’s best for you to leave fate like this.

It got dark too quickly and you still haven’t traversed your way back to the camp. A short trip to your van for some extra supplies became a longer task than you anticipated it to. You can barely see the sun anymore. The trees start to look the same. Your lamp feels like it’s about to go out any second now.

The camping materials hold you back severely. Your shoulder aches and the cooler in both of your hands are heavy. Watching the sunset, you drop the cooler below a landmark tree. Four scratches. You don’t exactly know what caused those scratches, but whoever did it, they marked your path back to your friends.

With a sigh, you bend over to carry the cooler again—

“You need help with that?”

The cooler drops to your feet, making you scream out. The person, who materialised out of nowhere, comes up to you. “Sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The man looks concerned. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. It’s alright. It’s just… someone.

“Oh,” you say, wincing as you hold yourself up against a tree. “I’m alright, I guess. Are you, uh, camping here too?”

He smiles. His teeth are white and he has little fangs like your little sister. It’s cute. “Yeah, just by the lakeside,” he says.

You haven’t seen another tent on the lake. You’d know since you and your friends are stationed there. Maybe he’s more camouflaged. “Oh, uh, actually, me and my friends are there too. If it’s not too much of a bother…—”

“You want me to take you there?” he says, practically reading your mind. “Yeah. It’s getting dangerous out at night.” He approaches you, looking around the forest with cautious eyes. “Let me lead the way, yeah? Just follow me and you won’t get lost.”

You nod. He doesn’t look away from you and you don’t either. When he turns to the path, you follow his figure closely. You feel lighter now. The equipment doesn’t seem so heavy anymore… Did you forget something?

He asks you, “You guys staying for long?”

“Ah, well, for a bit. We leave tomorrow morning.”

“Really?” he laughs. “I’ve already been here a while and I never wanna leave,” he jokes. You think that to be true. He turns to look back at you, seeing as you struggle behind him. He reaches out, “Let me get that for you so that you won’t worry about carrying anything.”

You nod. Your backpack, your lamp, all of it goes to him. He smiles as you catch up to him.

You think you’re reaching the lake right about now. You remember seeing another landmark earlier. You think you were supposed to take a turn—but he hasn’t, right? He knows where to go. He knows what to do. You should trust him. You should trust him.

The night looks darker. Did the lamp run out?

He’s not holding anything. He’s not looking at you anymore.

“Hey,” you call out, looking around, “Are we…?”

“Yeah, we’re almost there,” he assures. “Come on. Hurry now. I can hear your friends from here.”

You don’t hear them. The wind threatens the both of you for a moment, the breeze coming along with it. He takes your hand to guide you forward. You think you hear them now.

There’s something in the distance. It looks like a cave. “Ri-i-ight over there,” he drags out, hands in his pockets as you both stand outside of it. “Your friends are calling for you there.”

It’s too dark to see them. It must be later in the night now. You can hear their voices. They’re calling for you. They’re calling your name. You can hear them so vividly. Get in the cave.

Get in the cave.

Listen to me.

Get in the cave.

Darkness envelops you with each step forward. They’re closer now. The footsteps behind you feel distant. Yet, you feel the warmth of a body pressed against you. You can feel the air against your neck, like soft whispers and heavy breathing.

You call out one of your friend’s names. It echoes in the cave.

“They’re here, sweetheart,” someone whispers behind you. He's the kind man. “It’s getting late. You need to change into sleepwear, hm? Take your bottoms off for me.”

There’s nothing you can see in the dark. You feel around for your pants as you start to unbutton them. Another pair of hands come to hold yours, guiding you where to pull and where to unzip. It helps you take them off.

“You look very nice,” you’re lowered to the ground, “sweetheart, you look very nice. Can you lay on your front for me?”

The kind man allows you to the cold floor. You feel nice. Just a bit sleepy. He keeps you up with his hands going up and down your body. “Wish you could see yourself,” he says, pushing your top up—revealing your chest—” you look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

You can hear something in the background. It sounds almost terrifying. Like the sounds of rubber stretching, the peeling of the skin, and small little grunts that echo throughout. Still, you’re soothed by the kind man who shushes you calmly.

“It’s alright, I just wanna…” he trails off, shifting you around so you’re laying on—something. It’s smooth yet hard beneath you. It’s cold, too cold. “...sweetheart?”

Has he been calling your name the entire time? You can’t really speak. You try to open your mouth but it’s too heavy. You’re lightheaded.

“It’s okay, just wanted to make sure you’re still here,” he says, “I wanna ask you something, just nod or shake your head, yeah?”

You nod.

“Do you like your friends?”

You nod.

“Do you truly want to see them again?”

You nod.

“Then can you help me out? Just for a moment, just for a little while.”

…You nod.

His chuckle is all you hear before he pulls you up. You can hear something dragging behind him. Once you’re pressed against the wall, you continue to hear it as something slides against you. You can’t move. You can’t feel your arms.

The panic settles in and he’s trying so hard to keep you calm. He whispers unintelligible things to you as something goes tighter, almost making you unable to breathe. It’s tight against your stomach and your shoulders. You can still feel your legs but you can’t move them. You won’t. You won’t move them.

“Stay still,” he says. “Just help me since I helped you, okay? Just one small thing.

“I need to mate with you,” the coils around you tighten, “I need to use you for a while and I promise I’ll return you to your friends. Just make me good for a bit, okay? You got that, sweetheart?”

You let out a little noise. He doesn’t say more as you feel air caress your now bare cunt. It surprises you. “I’ll try to prepare you.”

Something prods against your hole. It’s dry but you feel that you’ve already started leaking. He moans, “Already feeling good? I’m so glad. You’re gonna enjoy this, I promise.”

It pushes inside of you. Your breath gets choked out of you as you feel it massaging deep inside of you. Your legs shake as you struggle with it constantly rubbing against your G-spot. It’s playing it so easily that you can’t help but moan.

“Doing so good for me,” he says, his voice suddenly on your neck as the coils around you loosen. “Gonna put another in.”

He’s true to his word. Another thing goes inside your pussy and now you’re being scissored open. Your legs quiver hard. “So fucking wet,” he moans, “I wanna put my cocks inside of you. I wanna keep you with my eggs stuck inside. Fu-u-u-uck..!”

You cry out as the things inside of you fuck you. It thrusts relentlessly and makes you accustomed to the feeling of being stretched wide. It’s driving you crazy how it reaches so deep inside of you like an actual cock.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, the thing inside of you pulling away. “I’m so sorry. I need to fuck you. I’m about to fucking burst and it hurts!”

You’re pulled up a little before something wet touches you. You moan, the slickness of it cold and almost uncomfortable. He whines in your ears as it rubs between your folds desperately.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna fuck you with my cock, okay?” he says, something—his cock spreading slickness all over your cunt. “I’ll be gentle later. But you’re so good for me, so pliant, so fucking delicious—!”

He gets cut off by both of your moans. You scream out as you feel his cock stretch you. His fingers aren’t enough as you feel him split you open. The heat inside of you is warming you from the inside out, threatening to burn you alive.

“O-oh,” he moans, the coils tightening you, “that’s only one cock. I can’t wait to feel your ass on my other one.”

You don’t get to process his words as the coils around you guide you up and down on his cock. You’re stuck moaning without a name. His cock feels like your entire first, punching you in and out without mercy as he chases his orgasm.

In front of you, he’s panting. He’s going mad with the feeling of being inside of you. Every part of him feels like it's losing as you clench around him, unaccustomed to his size.

“So… tight~!” he moans, thrusting his hips along, “so fucking good. I wanna feel you take all of me. I wanna see you carrying my eggs so much. I wanna fill you up please..!”

He’s mumbling incoherent things as something slaps you from your behind. It feels like his other cock. You don’t panic. Instead, you feel tenfold the arousal as it pokes you at your dry rear.

It doesn’t push in. You know he’s disappointed with the way he’s crying out as he fucks your pussy harder.

“...so much. Wanna fill you up so much,” he moans, a sound coming from the back of his throat like a hiss. “I need to train you on my cock and make you never wanna leave. You’ll never need anyone else but me! Only—only me!

“Fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.” His hips don’t stutter as you’re being suffocated again. You’re dizzy. You can feel yourself losing air in your brain as your cunt gets railed over and over again. The buds inside of you are getting rubbed to their most sensitive degree as you can feel him in your stomach. It’s jarring. It’s terrifying.

It’s so fucking good.

You wanna stay here forever.

You wanna be trained on his cock

You never wanna leave.

You never need anything but him

Only him.

A cry escapes your throat as you squirt all over his cock. Your spams doesn’t make him stop. “Oh, fuck, you’re so cute!” he says, “you’re shaking. You’re—you’re so tight around me. I’m gonna make you a momma. You’ll never be able to let go of me after this, sweetie. You’re going to want me forever.”

Least expecting it, his cocks stretch you further. You let out a meek noise as it struggles to push something in. “N…no more,” you sob, your walls pushing against it as it tries to make itself home.

“It’s okay,” he hushes. You can feel his arms around you as the coils loosen. “Take a deep breath for me. You’re doing so good.” It pushes in more. “Be a good girl. Be a good momma, okay? Come on, take it!”

He thrusts into you one last time and you scream as something gets pushed inside. You pant, feeling something heavy stretch you inside. It feels like you’re throbbing inside. It feels like a heartbeat

“That’s so good, you’re so good. Such a good girl.”

For the first time, he kisses you. The first thing you feel is his tongue pushing against your lips. It fucks your mouth open as you feel it slither. It’s long and thicker than at least three of your fingers.

You gag. You can feel it against the back of your throat and you struggle to take it in. He tasted sweet. Is it supposed to taste this sweet?

He moans on top of you as he rubs his cock inside of you, pushing the thing inside of you a little deeper. He pulls out of the kiss and you’re left with a drool connecting the both of you. “Mmm, sweetheart, you taste so good. Do I taste good?”

He does. You nod lazily as your head falls into his shoulders. He laughs as he strokes your back. “It’s okay. I’m satisfied for now. I’m sorry I rushed, okay? When you come back next time, I’ll be more gentle. I’ll even make a nest for you and our child.”

Before your brain can catch up, you’re falling into the sweet comfort of his arms.

When you wake up, your friend ushers you awake.

“Get the fuck up, sleepyhead!” she yells. “You’ve been asleep for hours, we need to go soon!”

You groan, unwilling to wake up. Your body feels so sore. The sleeping bag wasn’t the best for camping, you’d guess. What a waste of purchase.

Outside, the birds are chirping and the sounds of the river are soothing. You’re gonna miss this place, not gonna lie. It’s like something would die in you if you were to leave. Then again, you’re very dramatic.

Your name is called. “Hey! Help me bring this stupid ass cooler! Jacob’s already carrying the other one.”

You put it up against your arms. Huh. You feel like you got a moment of déjà vu. It’s probably nothing. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the morning fog in your head.

Fuck. You think you need to check in at a hospital. You can barely walk and your stomach feels heavy. Maybe get someone to check in on you—...

No.

You can’t do that.

You can’t let anyone touch you down there.

Just need to return to the lake after a month and you’ll be good as new.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ go_h_og

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saintobio · 5 months ago

Text

sincerely yours. (12)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. depression, mentions of cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships, illnesses

notes. 11k wc. finally. i wrote this with only one eye open so please don't mind the inconsistencies, i'm trying my best to tie any loose ends before we reach the ending. if the writing feels rushed, it’s bcos i’m just ready to wrap up this series 😭

series masterlist -> episode thirteen

You thought everything that had happened last night was just a dream.

Because you had gotten used to the constant disappointments and vicissitudes of your life, sharing such domestic bliss with the person you loved had started to feel far-fetched for you. It had become an unachievable fantasy, a colorful delusion created by your mind to conceal the actual darkness of pain that surrounded it.

But as you opened your eyes that morning, the familiar warmth of a sleeping Satoru’s embrace was the reality you never saw coming. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the comfort of his arms around you, it all felt surreal—like a fragile dream teetering on the edge of shattering. You wondered if it would be okay to stay here for now. To forget about the rest of the damn world and remain in his arms, staring at his beautiful saintly face, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.

When Satoru stirred from his sleep, you knew your daydream was over. But he was pulling you dangerously close with arms wrapped around your frame and his lips pressed against your forehead. He was only half-awake, it seemed. His long white lashes reminded you of Sachiro’s as you watched him mumble incoherent words from his sleep, something along the lines of, ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Akemi’.

That was your cue to pull yourself away from him. With guilt now coursing through your body, you sat up from bed and covered your naked body with the duvet. Akemi. You had completely abandoned the thought of Akemi last night, and now you were here in bed with ‘supposedly’ her man. As much as your heart was in bliss from last night’s events, the dark and cold reality was that you slept with a man who wasn’t yours. It was a principle you told yourself you would never cross, but everything concerning Satoru Gojou seemed to be bringing you to that.

“Satoru, hey.” Your voice almost came out as a plea as you shook his arm, your guilt eating at you with every minute that passed. “Wake up.”

His eyelashes fluttered as he struggled to open his eyes, blinded by the sunlight that gleamed through the window as he stretched his arms and looked at you. “Y/N?” he softly whispered, a hand tenderly placed on your back as he scooted closer. “What’s wrong?”

Slight disbelief blanketed your gaze. “You think this isn’t wrong?”

Satoru let out a sigh of exasperation, pulling his head back, and covering his eyes with a hand as if last night’s events played through his mind scene to scene. He was obviously caught in a mindwreck thinking about the girl he had just cheated on. “It shouldn’t be,” he mumbled, “But it feels like it.”

“So you do regret it,” you laughed at your own words, internally in pain.

“I didn’t say that.” He finally pulled himself back up, sitting as he pulled you towards him. “Y/N, if we really thought last night was wrong, we would have stopped after the first time.” He shook his head at the irony. “Look, it’s on me, alright? I put you in this situation.”

“And I allowed it,” you argued, “I allowed it, Satoru. It makes me feel dirty. I feel like, like I’m wrecking someone else’s home. It’s not me.”

Satoru held his breath, a look of hesitation dawning on his face as he realized that this wasn’t just a dream of his. It was pure and raw reality that he had made a mistake that he could never undo. While thinking it through, he rubbed his eyes and sat up, leaning against the headboard as he assessed the situation. Then, he looked at you, his expression softening as he spoke, “No, not your fault. It’s just complicated,” he insisted, “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who owes ‘Kemi an apology.”

Each time you heard her nickname from him was a punch to your gut. And each silent cuss that left his lips was an arrow to your heart. So you put it on yourself to accept his reaction. “It’s okay. You can be honest and say last night was a mistake.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t say that,” he replied quickly, reaching out to take your hand.

But you already stood up from the bed, clutching the duvet around your body like a shield against the encroaching chill. Your throat felt tight, and tears threatened to spill, but you fought to keep them at bay. Satoru’s gaze followed you with an expression of helplessness, as if he was struggling to bridge the gap between his rights and wrongs.

As you turned to face him, a knot of frustration and heartache tangled within you. “So, what now?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your composure. “How are we gonna fix this, Satoru? How?”

Before he could answer, the door to the cabin suddenly burst open, and Akemi stood in the doorway with her eyes wide with shock and fury. The confrontation followed as soon as she caught you in a compromising position with Satoru, and the words she uttered next were ones you least expected from her.

“You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married.”

“You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me..”

“Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”

You felt like an outsider in your own heartbreak, the confrontation intensifying as you tried to process the bitter truth in silence. All you could do was stand there and cry. Even Satoru’s attempts to placate Akemi were futile as her anger only seemed to grow. The more her eyes danced back and forth between you and her lover, the more she wanted to destroy everything in her path.

Satoru’s face was indiscernible from where you stood. “Akemi, please, just listen—”

Akemi, however, was already turning on her heel and storming back into her cabin while eliciting loud, muffled sobs. Your chest tightened with sorrow and shame. Complete, utter shame of doing this to another woman. How could you even correct a situation like this? How could you pick yourself back up after you just trampled on another woman’s feelings because of your actions?

Satoru, like you, hesitated on his next move, his eyes meeting yours with a look of anguish. “I need to talk to her, Y/N. I’ll be back.”

Without waiting for your response, he already bolted after her, leaving you alone in a quiet, pathetic state. The door slammed behind him, the sound reverberating through the cabin like thunder in a heavy storm.

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to face everyone, didn’t have the guts to even talk to Shoko and Suguru who now both have to deal with such scandals. You were too ashamed of yourself, as if your femininity had been stripped off its rights after you slept with the man you swore you would never get back with.

“I didn’t mean it,” you could only silently whisper your laments, pacing around your cabin while swallowing the weakness that tried to escape. “I hate this.”

The minutes dragged on, and each second stretched into an eternity as you waited for Satoru’s return. For now, you sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, wondering what excuse he was telling Akemi, and what actions he would do to try and calm her down. Did he kiss her, perhaps? Did he cup her face and tell her that you were nothing but a mistake? What was taking him so long? Or were they doing things to try and erase the same deeds you two did last night?

The cacophony of voices and commotion from outside the cabin grew louder, and your curiosity led you to open your door, meeting the eyes of one of the hotel staff who sent you a look full of judgment.

“Where’s…” you hesitated if she was the right person to ask, “Where’s Satoru? Would you know?”

“Oh, ma’am. He already left the hotel half an hour ago… with Miss Akemi.”

Her answer hit you hard like a truck on a highway. And your heart dropped as you realized who became The Fool in these deck of cards. Satoru had not only run off after Akemi, but had also left you behind without a word.

The room felt colder now, the once-intimate sanctuary you shared with your ex-husband now a prison of your own grief. Even the familiar warmth of the bed seemed like a distant memory as you approached it, your body trembling as you thought of how you were treated like a dirty rag, thrown away after being used over and over again.

With a soft, choked sob, you collapsed onto the bed, the duvet still a tangled mess from earlier. And your emotions, so tightly restrained, finally broke free. You pulled the blanket around you as if it could shield you from the crushing pain. The betrayal, the sense of being discarded for another—it all converged into a torrent of anguish. All you could do was cling to the duvet as if it were the only anchor in a stormy sea.

——

Returning home didn’t make the situation any better.

Although you tried to tell yourself that you shouldn’t be waiting on Satoru to contact you, you still found yourself checking your phone multiple times a day. Each second that passed without hearing from him was another stab to your heart. But it shouldn’t feel like that. It shouldn’t, not when Satoru clearly made his choice of choosing yet another woman over you.

Of course, you knew what you did was wrong. In everyone’s eyes, sleeping with someone else’s man was unforgivable. There was no excuse, no way to justify your actions. Even if some people might side with you, saying you owed no one loyalty, it didn’t change how you felt about the whole situation. And that was because you remembered all too well the pain of being cheated on, and letting another woman endure the same heartbreak and betrayal was a weight on your conscience that you couldn’t ignore.

Sighing, you turned to the left side of the bed and saw Sachiro sleeping peacefully, clutching his favorite starfish plushie in his tiny arms. The thought of losing your son was unbearable, especially when he was your only source of calm amid the chaos that surrounded you. Caring for him was your solace, and his innocent presence served as a band-aid for your wounded heart. The most heart-wrenching part of this was knowing you couldn’t even repay him for the stability he brought you. Sachiro deserved a complete family to enrich his life, yet you—as his own biological mother—were unable to give him that.

“Sleep tight, Sachi.” You lightly stroked his white hair before planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

The past few weeks had been a blur of emotions, work, and parenting—with each day blending into the next like a tornado of dull colors. You still hadn’t heard from Satoru, but the days of waiting and checking your phone for any notification from him did gradually stop. The only thing that didn’t stop replaying in your head like a broken record was the cabin incident, the very night that drew all these overthinking in your mind and in your heart.

Returning to work did provide some distraction, but it didn’t take away the sting. It also didn’t help that your staff noticed the change in your demeanor, and how distracted you often were during your meetings and warehouse visits. Even Nobara was worried about how absentminded you had become, but you brushed off all their concerns with a forced smile. After all, staying at home would do you worse than being at work.

Now, you were back in your office, and the soft knock on the door cut you off from your trance. It was Yuki peeking through the small opening on your door, her usual professional demeanor softened by a concerned expression. “Hey, Y/N. Do you have a minute?” she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

You nodded, trying to muster a smile. “Sure, Yuki. What’s up?”

“I wanted to check in on you,” she began, taking a seat opposite your desk, “If you need to extend your vacation, please, by all means, go ahead. It’s off-season, anyway. I’ll take care of everything here while you’re focusing on yourself.”

That wasn’t really a good idea. And you shouldn’t be slacking off work when this very fashion house you establish used to be your passion, not your job. Yet here you were, losing all the inspiration to even run a business. “I don’t know if I have the energy for anything else right now.”

“Well, if you’re too worried about leaving work,” Yuki continued, her tone shifting to a more business-like note, “the progress we’ve made with Hearte is looking really promising. The new collection is getting great feedback, and our upcoming showcase is shaping up well. We’re on track for a strong quarter.”

“All because of you, Yuki.” A spark of gratitude appeared on your face. “Thanks for the update. It’s good to know things are moving in the right direction.”

She then stood up and gave you a reassuring smile. “I’m here if you need anything, Y/N. But seriously, take some time for yourself. You deserve it.”

On that same evening, you came home to your father’s mansion, and the first thing that greeted you when you entered the foyer was Gen sitting by the living room. And needless to say, her expression was a mix of concern and frustration as if she had been waiting for you to return. You weren’t really in the mood to have some back-and-forths with her, but you also didn’t like how she dropped her phone on the table and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing at you like she was a mother who could scold you like a child.

“I’m not even gonna say anything at this point, but did you really do it with him?” Gen’s voice was low, but the disappointment was palpable. You could feel it from a few meters away.

“What are you talking about?” you bit back, your already-terrible mood swings shifting into an unhealthy direction.

Gen responded by pointing at her phone, gesturing for you to take a look at whatever’s on it. Reluctantly, you grabbed the device, and as you were scrolling through the screen, you stumbled upon a blind item circulating on social media. The words were vague but pointed, hinting at a scandalous encounter between two ex-spouses, both of whom were well-known figures. Great. Your heart stopped as you realized that the article was very much about you and Gojou.

The online comments were brutal, not like you weren’t used to anonymous harassment anyway, but these ones were full of speculating and judging without knowing the full story. Everyone also seemed to be siding with “Ms. A” instead of you as though the person behind the article was clearly trying to paint you as the villain. It was written for the purpose of destroying your reputation rather than any regular exposé, and whoever wrote it was definitely someone who disliked you.

Your shoulders slumped as you scrolled through hate comment after hate comment, a seemingly endless vitriol for someone they didn’t even know, and avoided your sister’s gaze knowing full well that seeing her expression would only make you feel worse.

“Is it true?” your sister asked like there was even an ounce of chance that it was simply a rumor. Unfortunately, it was anything but.

Sliding her phone back on the coffee table, you drew in a deep breath. “I can’t undo it, Gen. It happened.”

“So, you did sleep with him? Am I hearing this right?” Gen sighed, rubbing her temples. “Do you have any idea what this could do to you? To Sachiro? People are ruthless, and now this blind item is all over the place and they’re targeting you like a punching bag!”

Your mouth felt heavy, as if it was weighed down by an invisible burden, making it difficult to form words or speak. And before you could think of a response, Ian became your temporary savior as he walked in with a calm but serious mien. “I’ve seen the post,” he said, holding up his phone. “It’s clearly defamatory, and we can take legal action. I’ll handle it.”

Even though Ian was a man of remarkable phlegm, you remained abashed, knowing that everyone’s feasting at the juicy rumor that you slept with your ex-husband. Yet, the only thing you could do was to put on a front. To save face. To act like someone you’re not. “Thank you, Ian. I’d appreciate that.”

Anticipating another lecture from Gen about Satoru, you began retreating to your room with your footsteps bouncing desperately on the grand staircase. This conversation was done. You just weren’t there to hear it anymore. However, as you climbed the stairs with a vacant mind, you could still hear your sister calling out to you.

“Y/N!” she called, her voice now tinged with concern. “I’m not going to give you a hard time. We can sort this issue out. Maturely.”

“I’m good.” Sorry, Gen. It was the anxious-avoidant side of you speaking. You didn’t want to discuss such a sensitive situation to anyone, even with your sister, because you weren’t ready to face all the negativity it would put you through. You were already dealing with enough, and going through yet another emotional turmoil might actually put you to your deathbed at this point.

So, for now, isolating yourself from the world was the best choice.

And as soon as you entered your room, you saw Sachiro’s nanny tucking him into bed. All your worries and self-destructive thoughts vanished in an instant the moment you looked at your son. It was like the heavens gave you your personal angel, a cute little cherub who brought nothing but light and happiness to your life. He was your sunshine, your shooting star, your bundle of joy. Nothing in this world could erase the pessimist in you than little Sachiro.

“I got it from here.” You thanked the nanny and asked her to close the door before quickly joining your son in bed, wrapping him in a warm, comforting hug—more for your own comfort than his.

“Mama?” he asked, his voice unusually raspy, and his chest rising and falling heavily. “I mwiss you, mama!”

You pressed your lips onto his forehead. “I miss you too, my baby. How was daycare today?”

He seemed to struggle to speak too, but Sachiro still did his best to recount his day while he was trying to catch air in between his sentences. “Teacher ask Sachi to go home, mama. Sachi is tired.”

“Baby, are you okay? Are you sick?” Now, your motherly instincts kicked in immediately. You could tell something was wrong, so you reached for a thermometer from the bedside drawer to check his temperature, and listened to his breathing at the same time. “What happened to Sachi? Do you want Mommy to take you to the hospital?”

Sachiro shook his head and gave you a sleepy smile. “No, mama. Sachi is just sweepy.”

When the thermometer beeped, you were relieved to see that his temperature was normal. “Are you having trouble breathing, my sweetheart?” You looked into his droopy eyes and gently placed your hand on his chest.

Once again, Sachiro shook his head. Maybe you were just overthinking. He often ran around the house or played in the bathtub before bed, which could explain why he seemed out of breath. It wasn’t the first time it happened.

“Okay, Sachi. Go to sleep now. Close your eyes, baby.”

“Night night, mama.”

For now, you turned off the night lamp, and headed to the bathroom in silent and careful steps. It was quiet enough indeed, but in your head was an awful noise you couldn’t escape. And stepping into the shower only increased the warfare in your mind, as it immediately brought images of Satoru and Akemi back in the cabin, the harsh comments from the article, and the lack of contact from your ex-husband which all overwhelmed you at once. By now, he would have already seen that article. Nanami or Miwa might have already alerted him about it. But the fact that he said nothing, the fact that he let the public scrutinize you, destroy you with such vile, hurtful words behind their screens brought you a kind of pain that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone else.

Because if it was Akemi in that position, he would have defended her in a heartbeat.

So in your silence, under the cascading water of the shower, you let the tears flow—its warmth distinguishable compared to the cold droplets falling on you. If only you had successfully drowned yourself that night at the lake. If only Satoru didn’t pull you back in, none of this would have happened.

That moment was deeply poignant to you, and you saw him in a new light you thought you would never see again because of the darkness of your past. Yet, with the events that followed your special moment, memories eventually turned into spite. Your sweet exchange twisted into something bitter. Looking back at that time when he kissed you at the lake now made you feel nauseous and hollow inside, with bile forming on your throat and threatening to be retched.

The most gut-wrenching part about this was the fact that there wasn’t anyone left who could rescue you from this abyss of heartache anymore.

——

There had been a sense of detachment in your emotions in the following days that passed, almost as though they belonged to a stranger inhabiting your body. Toji, the only person who comforted you at times like these, was no longer by your side to fulfill the warmth you once desperately sought, and now you were alone to face this cruel, mind-numbing battle all by yourself. It was you against the world. You against the entire populace inhabiting this living hell. And with that many enemies against one, how could you win?

It was quite funny, actually, that your humor took a surprising turn when you thought of how Sera must have felt when it was revealed to the public that she was Satoru’s mistress. The irony didn’t even stop at your thoughts alone, it manifested itself outside Hearte’s headquarters, wearing a pink puffer jacket and a white prairie skirt.

“Sera?” you blurted out her name in wonder, nonplussed as you got out of the car to approach her.

“Hey, Y/N.” She offered a casual smile while carrying an air of sophistication around her. That wasn’t the only thing that changed about Sera. Her hair was also shorter than the last you saw her, her face now sporting a more natural makeup, and her outfit a more modest yet classy choice. It was no longer the Sera who tried hard to fit in amongst the upper echelon of society, but a Sera who seemed to be satisfied at her current standing in life.

What an awkward encounter. Was her presence your hypocritical reminder for sleeping with Satoru behind Akemi’s back?

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

And she answered with, “I read about what happened. You know, the thing on the internet.” She took a moment to pause, probably trying to choose the right words to say to her previous adversary. Because in a way, you two weren’t exactly friends. And you were no longer rivals either. Satoru was the only common denominator here, and Sera proved her exact sentiments about him by saying, “I just wanted to let you know that I understand your side. It’s a tough situation.”

You looked at her, searching for any hint of insincerity, but found none. “You were once on my spot,” you pointed out and gauged whether or not she would take the bait. For all you know, she could be putting on an act. “I’m assuming you’re here to rub it in my face how much of a hypocrite I am.”

“No, that’s not it.” Sera was vehemently denying any malice on her intentions, and was instead trying to show you the sympathy of a woman who was once caught in the same predicament. “Look, I know it’s weird that I’m here out of all people. But the truth is, I just had to let you know that someone’s on your side. I’ve met the girl, okay? That… whoever she is. I don’t remember her name, and I hate having to pit two women against each other, but I’m telling you it’s about time you cut Satoru off your life. Completely. She doesn’t look like someone who’d easily let go. You’re just gonna suffer, Y/N.”

Perhaps three years was too far back in your life and that tables could turn in a direction that you didn’t expect, as you could recall fragments of memories from when your only dilemma was dealing with Satoru and Sera in your marriage. She used to be besotted with your ex-husband back then. But now, it wasn’t until you heard the way she spoke about him that you realized she must be harboring a grudge deeper than you had imagined. After all, he did ruin her life in ways you couldn’t imagine. And her advice, though unsolicited, made sense. Because you could understand where she was going with it. You could see the true intentions clearly conveyed by her face.

The only problem here was that you didn’t have it in your heart to agree with her. You were too much of an empathic person to be taking sides, even if the supposed villain in this painting was the ex-husband who, time and time again, hurt you. Your heart stubbornly cared for Satoru deep down, and your wifely instinct of defending him no matter how poorly he acted had always been there. No one could hate Satoru more than you did, that was true, but you also weren’t very accepting of hearing others describe him as this ruthless, cheating bastard.

That was the reason why talking to Gen had eventually exhausted you. Because no one knew the real Satoru Gojou behind his facade of an irresponsible and reckless husband.

“Now that you’re here…” The idea to redirect the conversation to another topic struck you, unwilling to engage in a conversation that pushed Satoru in a bad light. “Would you be interested in being a model for our upcoming campaign? We’re launching a new collection, and I think you’d be perfect.”

Sera’s eyes were an amalgam of confusion and surprise. “Uh, I mean… I’d love to, but why so sudden?”

“You have the face for it.” You shrugged, but still sent a smile her way. “Are you working right now? If not, this could open doors for you to be discovered by modeling agencies. I’m closely tied with them since I work in the fashion industry, so I can do a few calls if you want.”

“Hold on, I’m—” Sera touched her head, laughing as if she were dreaming this conversation. “Y/N, you’re doing too much here. I mean, I’d obviously love that, but wouldn’t it be awkward? People know me as your ex-husband’s mistress, and if they recognize me in Hearte ads, I’m sure as hell those fuck ass netizens won’t stop talking about it.”

She had a point, a very good point, but then again, your suggestion was only brought up because you had to change the topic. “Well, it’s just an offer to consider in the future.”

“And I appreciate you always extending a hand to help me even if I did you wrong in the past,” she said, feelings of shame lacing her voice. “I haven’t forgotten about what you did for my brother, that’s why I’m here. I’m not your enemy anymore, Y/N.”

Just then, the roaring engine of a classic red Ferrari pulled up to the curb, interrupting the unexpected conversation you were having with your ex-husband’s former mistress. The window rolled down to reveal a pink-haired man whom you recognized as Ryomen Sukuna, an up and coming tech mogul, that Toji had mentioned about many times before. His eyes were only on one woman alone, and it wasn’t you. “Ready to go, babe?”

Honestly, good for Sera. No wonder her aura had become different. They seemed to be in a stable committed relationship, something that you could only ever dream about. If karma was truly real, this was the perfect example for it.

In the back seat, you spotted a younger boy who looked exactly like Sukuna and, surprisingly, Megumi, the son of your ex-fiancé. Really? How many more people were you going to ‘coincidentally’ run into today?

“Hello, miss!” the other boy called out cheerfully, while Megumi offered a polite nod. You replied with a wave, feeling a small sense of normalcy in their innocent presence.

“I gotta get going, Y/N,” excused Sera, gesturing a civil goodbye.

But as she moved to get into the car, your phone buzzed in your pocket. A single glance at the screen made your heart drop. It was a call from the hospital.

“Hello?” you answered almost immediately, pressing the phone on your ears with a tight push.

“Ms. Y/N, this is the hospital. Your son, Sachiro Gojou, is in the ICU. We need you to come as soon as possible.”

Your stomach contracted into a tight ball as you stood rigid with terror. Then and there, the world seemed to tilt on its axis. “Wh-What do you mean he’s in the hospital?!” you managed to shout, swept by horripilation from the sudden news. “What happened to my son?! What’s—!”

Sera’s concerned gaze met yours as you desperately yelled into the phone, hyperventilating. Your trembling hand was threatening to drop the phone. “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“My son… I… he…,” you stammered, your voice shaky with fear and urgency. Your muscles locked in a momentary paralysis, eyes wide with astonishment, and surprise rendering you immobile. The thought of Sachiro in a critical state was about to make you faint, with the last bits of images you saw that afternoon were of Sera and her boyfriend rushing to catch you from completely falling to the ground.

——

Megumi didn’t know how to deliver the bad news.

He came home after Yuuji’s brother rushed you to the hospital, shocked by everything that happened in a span of a single day. His mind was aching from all the thinking he was doing; praying that little Sachiro will be fine, hoping that you would stay strong throughout, and lastly, wondering how he would break it to his dad that something terrible had happened.

His father wasn’t exactly the greatest man to tread this Earth, especially not after the drunken words he had ‘mistakenly’ uttered to you that night in Miami that resulted in your separation. Yes, Megumi knew every word and detail. His father told him everything just as a sober man would. Did you really think that the Toji Zen’in you knew would sputter that utter nonsense to you? That you had an empty soul. That he couldn’t be with someone like you. That you would forever be a placeholder to Megumi’s mother. Bullshit. None of those were true. His father told him that the reason he had to say those words, as piercing and trenchant as they may be, was because it was the only way he could free you from being caged in a relationship your heart didn’t genuinely want.

It was Toji’s last resort to hurt you with his words, hoping that you would wake up from your false fantasy and finally have a reason to leave a relationship with a man that wasn’t Satoru Gojou. If Megumi’s father wasn’t at the top of the list of Forbes’ richest men in Japan, he would have felt a great deal of inferiority complex over a younger man like Gojou. Not because of his looks and his riches, but because he had you. No matter what Satoru did, no matter how many times he hurt you, he was and would always be that man you wanted to be with.

Sighing, Megumi’s first task upon coming home was to check on his father’s room, only to find the dark room void of its owner. When he made his way down the grand staircase, he met an ill-spirited Naoya who was ranting to Mai about Sera flaunting Sukuna in front of his face. Megumi’s sigh was then followed by another. The drama in this house was relentless. He felt like he was exhaling endlessly, like a malfunctioning appliance.

“Where’s dad?” asked Megumi, directing her question to a more rational Maki.

The tall, green-haired girl gave him a knowing shrug. “You already know,” she said, “Drowning himself in alcohol down at the bar.”

As always.

Megumi jogged around the estate to eventually find his father at one of the wet bars near his home office. He was there, seated on a stool, his head drooping low with a glass of premium scotch in hand. How many glasses he’d had, Megumi could only hope the numbers weren't that high. But upon approaching his father, his presence was barely acknowledged as he sat on the stool next to him, suggesting that the grown man might be more inebriated than his son had expected.

“Dad,” spoke the Zen’in heir, “Dad, you good?”

Toji lifted his head up, three sheets to the wind, as a smile crept up on his scarred lips. “Son.”

“Let me take that.” Megumi grabbed a hold of the glass of scotch, sliding the strong liquor away from his father. “There’s something I ought to tell you.”

Toji stayed nonchalant, sitting upright and tapping his fingers on the counter. “What’s it about this time?” he asked. “I’ve told you, I can’t stop the elders from arranging your marriage unless you’re honest with me about someone you like. I know you have someone in mind, but you’re not saying who. Are you just shy?”

Megumi gave his father a look of exasperation. He’s rambling, he thought, frustrated with his father’s inebriated chattering. “It’s not about that. It’s about Y/N-san.”

The mention of your name was the only thing that made Toji's demeanor shift to one of genuine concern. “What happened?”

“Sachi’s in a critical condition,” the younger Zen’in went straight to the point, “Y/N-san went manic over it and fainted before we could get her to the hospital.”

Toji was quick to grab his coat and car keys, as if all the alcohol in his system had immediately evaporated. But before he could leave, Megumi caught his father’s arm and pulled him back.

“What?” said Toji, concern and urgency blanketing his gaze. “I need to be with her.”

“Do you really need to?” Megumi countered. “Dad, I know it’s not right for me to stop you in this crucial situation, but are you gonna do this every time she’s in trouble? Do you plan to do this forever? Do you plan to keep drowning yourself in alcohol thinking about her? We care for her like family, that’s true, but you and her aren’t a thing anymore. Your responsibilities in taking care of her should stop, too. You, yourself, said it’d be best if she stopped being reliant on you. Now, do yourself a favor and stop trying to be this pathetic superhero.”

The concern etching on Tojis’s face softened into a sense of realization, a sense of candidness that only someone as straightforward as his own son could evoke. Megumi had to, not because he didn’t care for you anymore, but because he had to ensure he wouldn’t lose his father over a relationship that had already ended. Toji was the only real family Megumi had left.

“Stay, dad,” he pleaded, “Please.”

Toji took a deep breath and released it in the same second. “Okay,” he softly said, ruffling his son’s hair. “I won’t leave.”

——

Why is it that you keep attracting things, places, and people that you disliked the most?

You hated hospitals, and you had spoken about it enough to make it clear how much you dreaded going to a place where your worst memories had taken root. Yet, the sterile environment seemed to beckon you, dragging you back with a new nightmare each time. It was beyond your worst fears that you would find yourself racing through the halls mere minutes after regaining consciousness, desperately trying to reach where your son was.

Please be okay. Please be okay.

Frantically, you scanned the corridors, searching for the ICU and hoping that what you had just heard was nothing more than a cruel illusion, that this was all just a nightmare. You weren’t a deeply devout person, but you did send prayers to every saint you could think of, hoping that Sachiro’s current state wasn’t in the median between life and death.

Because if you lost your son, then there was no point in living anymore. This life wouldn’t be worth enduring.

“Y/N!”

You weren’t the first one to arrive outside the pediatric ICU, with Gen and your father already being there moments before you came. You were struggling to breathe by the time you reached them, feeling your heart race with a thunderous beat. “Gen… Dad, what h-happened to him?” You couldn’t stop the weakness in your voice. “Tell me he’s fine, please. Please. My baby. If anything h-happens to him, I’m g-gonna die, Gen! I c-can’t h-have that!”

Gen quickly enveloped you in a tight embrace, trying to offer any form of comfort she could. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Dad and I are just as shocked.” She held you closer, her voice trembling as she, too, was just as anxious as you. “Sachi refused to eat and complained about having a hard time breathing. He was so pale and his lips were blue. We knew we had to rush him to the hospital immediately.”

“Oh my God.” Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to stifle the uncontrollable cries that were escaping. The news of Sachiro developing cyanosis shattered your heart, and the crushing reality that you weren’t there to take care of him tore you apart. “My baby, no. No, no. H-He—”

“Y/N!”

Out of breath and also visibly shaken was the father of your son, Satoru, who came running to your side the moment his eyes landed on you. Behind him was his mother, clutching a rosary in her hand as both of them were seemingly shell-shocked in the same magnitude as you and your family were. Everyone cared for Sachiro’s well-being, everyone prayed for his safety, and the thought of losing an angel like your son was a soul-crushing thought that sent you slipping into a chasm of suffering.

“Wh-What happened to Sachi?” Satoru asked in desperation, his question raised to everyone in the vicinity—you, your family, the nurses. But no one could give him a decent answer. “Please, tell me my son’s alright. Tell me.”

You watched him walk in circles, raking his fingers through his hair as if he was seeking anything to hold onto. And you, feeling that magnet that pulled you closer to him, broke away from Gen’s embrace to look at your son’s father. “Satoru…”

“Y/N,” his voice cracked as he met your gaze, “Our son.” He stopped, ready to wrap you in a hug—a moment of solace you both desperately needed in this critical time. But just as he pulled you close in a fragile attempt to find comfort together, the door to the ICU swung open, abruptly ending the brief respite.

All of you immediately rushed over to the doctor, the sterile white walls and the distant hum of hospital machinery did nothing to calm the turmoil inside you.

“Doctor, how’s he?”

“How’s my grandson, doc?”

“Doc, my son, is he okay?”

“Is he stable, doc?”

“Doctor, how’s my son, please?” you asked, your body growing tense to the point of shaking.

The doctor took a deep breath, his expression serious amidst the fusillade of questions thrown at him. “We’re currently running a series of tests on the patient. We suspect Sachiro may have congenital heart disease, specifically a ventricular septal defect with associated pulmonary hypertension.”

No, it can’t be. It’s not possible! The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to process the information, your vision blurring with tears and your heart drumming a rapid staccato inside. You didn’t need to look at everyone to know that they all, for a moment, looked at you. “Heart disease? But… how? I didn’t think—”

“Can you explain more, doc? Please.” Gojou was desperate, his bright blue eyes now dull and severely clouded with a brewing storm. It was as if he was keeping himself from crying.

The doctor continued gently, “VSD is a condition where there’s a hole in the heart’s ventricular septum. It can lead to pulmonary hypertension, which means the blood pressure in the lungs is elevated. It’s a serious condition, but we’re doing everything we can to assess the extent and provide the best treatment.”

“N-No, oh God. My baby.” You felt your knees go weak, and you sank down against the wall, with more tears cascading down your cheeks like waterfall. The weight of the diagnosis was crushing, but the hardest part was realizing that this was something you had unknowingly passed on to Sachiro. The heart disease was inherited from you and had now manifested in your beloved son.

It’s my fault. It’s my fault!

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information. Please, try to stay calm, Y/N. It’s not best for your heart to panic right now. Sachiro is in good hands.”

You were unable to speak through the sobs that wracked your body. The hospital corridor felt endless, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt and helplessness that consumed you. You could feel all eyes on you, judging, harboring hatred, carrying deep-rooted resentment. You were torn apart by the knowledge that the very thing you had feared most was now a reality for your son.

“It’s… It’s my fault,” you sobbed, covering your face with your quivering hands, “This is all my fault. I gave it to Sachiro, I… I’m a terrible mother!”

Gen knelt beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders with a firm yet gentle touch. “Y/N, stop it. This is not your fault. You didn’t choose this for Sachiro.”

Your father, who had been pacing anxiously nearby, joined in. “Your sister’s right. You’re blaming yourself for something beyond your control. We’re all here for you. We’ll figure this out.”

But amidst your familial exchange, Satoru stood nearby, frozen and listless. His silence only added to the overwhelming distress. Was he also blaming you for what Sachiro was going through right now? Was he also angry at you for putting his son into this critical situation?

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the commotion—voice that was equally harsh and spiteful. It was Satoru’s mother, boring her fiery eyes into your skull as she opened her mouth. “That’s right! You’re self-aware, aren’t you?” she spat and stood rigidly, arms crossed defensively over her chest. “This is all your fault. You’re such an irresponsible mother! You can’t even take care of my grandson properly, and now you’ve passed your disease onto him!”

You looked up in shock, seeing Satoru’s mother standing there with a disdainful expression. The sting of her words felt like a knife twisting in your heart, because they were true. They were painful, yes, but they were true. And all you could do was lower yourself until you were sitting on your haunches, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Excuse me?!” Gen stood up, her eyes blazing with anger that came from the deepest pits of hell. “You’re unbelievable, Auntie. How dare you speak to my sister like that! You have no right to blame her for this. I hope to God it was you in the ICU right now instead of Sachiro!”

“You…!”

Satoru’s mother raised a hand to slap Gen, but your father stepped forward, his face a mix of disbelief and indignation. “This is despicable. How can you stand here and say such things to someone who’s already suffering? Weren’t you friends with my wife once?”

Satoru, who had been standing still, suddenly moved with a menacing calm. His face was hard as stone, and his eyes narrowed in anger. What was scarier was him approaching his mother with a threatening stance. “Are you really this pathetic, mother?” Satoru questioned with a cold, cutting tone. “Do you get off on making Y/N suffer? Do you think you’ve gotten away with slapping her behind my back? You don’t get to blame Y/N for anything. Any fucking thing!”

His mother’s eyes widened in shock, but she tried to defend herself at the ruthless stance her son was carrying. All of you were stunned at the realization of how Satoru resembled his cruel father at that moment. “B-But Satoru, my son—”

“Shut up!” Satoru cut her off, his voice harsh and unforgiving, before he threw his cold knuckles against the hard surface of the concrete wall. “I don’t want to see your face ever again! Don’t consider yourself my mother any longer, you witch. You’ve lost that privilege.”

This took a wild turn, and hearing the brutality of Satoru’s words was like a thunderclap in the tense atmosphere. His mother’s face turned pale, her mouth opening and closing in shock as she struggled to respond.

“Get out of here,” Satoru commanded, his voice uncaring towards her. “Leave, and don’t ever come back. You’re nobody to me now.”

With that, Satoru’s mother turned and fled, stumbling down the corridor as if she was the victim in this situation. However, the tension in the air began to dissipate as soon as she left, leaving you, Satoru, Gen, and your father in a heavy silence. Only your sniffles could be heard.

Even Gen, who was often hostile around your ex-husband, had remained quiet and composed after she watched him take such drastic measures to keep his mother away.

Everyone was silent. Pure, unbothered silence until Satoru’s phone began to buzz loudly, cutting through the stillness of the hallway. For a moment, he closed his eyes, then he fished his phone out of his pocket where you caught a glimpse of the caller ID.

Akemi.

——

The ICU only allowed short visits and one person at a time, so there was no need for everyone to stay the night. You were the parent, you were the one responsible for your son’s situation, so you insisted it was best for your dad and Gen to go home and get some rest. You didn’t mind watching over your son for the whole night, because coming home without him was the last thing you would do right now.

My precious angel.

Sachiro lay in the hospital bed, his small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The doctors had managed to stabilize him for now, and the sight of his heart monitor showing a stable rhythm was a small comfort amidst the chaos.

Still, you sat by his bedside, mindful of your timed visit as your hands gently held his tiny ones, feeling the warmth of his small fingers. You glanced down at the medical report on your other hand, trying to make sense of the complex terms and figures.

The words blurred together as your tears fell silently onto the paper. “I’m sorry, baby.” He didn’t deserve this. He’s just a baby. “Mommy’s very sorry.”

You tried to stay strong, putting on a brave face for your son, but inside, you were falling apart. It was impossible not to blame yourself over this, wishing you could do more than just be present around him. This was the comeuppance of your own actions after you focused on your own emotions for the past few weeks to the point of neglecting your son’s wellbeing. If you had been more present in his life, if you had been more observant, you would have easily noticed the signs. Now, you allowed Satoru to find a flaw in your duty as a mother, and he could cite this very event as evidence to get full custody of him. That is, if he were to ever consider taking your son away from you.

But in the first place, he should be the last person to do that, because where exactly was he now?

Your thoughts kept drifting back to the earlier scene, where he excused to answer Akemi’s call, and later that night told you he had to leave and “check something” urgently. He promised he’d be back before midnight, but where was he?

Resentment began to fester within you.

You had been very perceptive of Akemi’s feelings, apologetic in the way you supposedly betrayed her, but the fact that she was still scrambling for Satoru’s attention in the midst of your son’s hospitalization was something you could never forgive her for.

And as for Sachiro’s father, how could he prioritize another woman when his own son was in such a critical state? The confusion of his actions was overwhelming. It felt like a cruel deja vu that, at a time when you needed him the most, he was choosing to be elsewhere. You could accept it if it was a choice between you and another woman, but between his son and her? His behavior was unacceptable, disgusting even, and it only served to deepen your grudge against him.

You clenched your fists, trying to push away the surge of anger that threatened to consume you after seeing that the disparity in his actions felt like both a betrayal and a slap to the face. Your poor son. You stared at Sachiro’s peaceful face and stroked his cheek. How could Satoru be so indifferent to his own flesh and blood?

The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor and your quiet sobs. The situation was almost too much to bear, and your resentment towards Gojou grew heavier by the second. Each minute felt like a lifetime, and the emptiness left by his absence was a constant reminder that yet again he chose another woman over his own family.

It’s okay. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. I won’t leave you, Sachi. For Sachiro’s sake, you needed to find the strength to carry on, to be the mother he needed in this moment of crisis and never again failing to be there for your only child.

At exactly 10:30 pm, the nurse came in and told you visiting hours were over. You complied.

At 11:00 pm, Ian paid you a quick visit and talked to the nurses, perhaps giving them reminders to look after you.

At 12:00 am, you were alone again. Seated at one of the benches outside the ICU—sleepless, starving, and nauseous.

At 2:00 am, you remained in your seat despite the sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with your own discomfort. The flickering fluorescent lights above did little to help you get some proper sleep. The cold air-conditioning alao made you shiver slightly, hugging your own body to try and give yourself some warmth.

At 4:00 am, you awakened from the noise of the movements beside you. Realizing you had fallen asleep, you looked up and saw Satoru taking a seat to your left. His coat was draped over his arm, and he offered it to you.

“Are you cold?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, but you could see the bags under his eyes suggesting the sleepless nights he’d had for the past few days. “You can use my coat.”

You took the coat, but as you caught a whiff of it, a familiar scent of Akemi’s perfume lingered. Rose Prick by Tom Ford. It was a scent you’d come to recognize after your years of being her best friend, and it made your stomach turn slightly. Without any hesitation, you handed the coat back to him. “No, thank you. I’m fine,” you replied, avoiding his gaze. Looking into his eyes was the last thing you would do.

And you knew Satoru was sighing, but didn’t press the issue. “The nurse mentioned you haven’t eaten today.” He pulled out a small bag of assorted fruits, placing it gently on the seat between you. You eyed the offerings, feeling a pang of hunger but also a strange aversion. “I bought some fruit. Is there anything you like?”

You took a deep breath and broke the silence with a hint of sarcasm. “You’re really good at this, huh?”

“At what?” was his immediate question, puzzled.

“Hitting two birds with one stone.”

“Y/N…”

“Stop trying to take care of me,” you interrupted, your tone sharper than intended. “ I don’t need it.”

“But—”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You can’t even be here for Sachi. You can’t even choose your son. He’s in a life and death situation and we’re still only receiving scraps of your attention.” It was the deep-seated grudge spilling out of you. “You’re so good at abandoning people, huh? Even though that’s what you hate the most. You’re so good at disappearing without even a text or call to check on me and our son. After that night at the cabin, you just…” you paused, realizing that you were opening too much of your heart to a man who didn’t deserve it. “Forget it. Just go home to Akemi. Live a happy life, build a family with her. Forget us. I don’t care. I’ll take care of Sachiro myself. I’ve done it for three years!”

“Y/N, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just…” Satoru fumbled for words, his somber blue eyes bearing the history of your shared heartbreak. It was as though the painful memories of your past were flooding his thoughts, seeking justification as to why he couldn’t pick you again this time. “I had to be there for her. She’s…”

You turned away before he could see your expression, because your heart was splintering at the thought of Satoru Gojou shattering it once more. As he always did. There seemed to be no end to this relentless heartbreak, as if any hope of a happy ever after with the man you loved would only return a pain that was a hundred times worse. Perhaps, this was destiny’s way of telling you that you and him weren’t meant to be. That any wishful thinking of being with Satoru again was only something that you could expect in another universe.

So, in your defense, you had to pull on a facade. A mask that you had to wear in the face of being the target of never-ending despair. “Satoru, I don’t want to talk about it,” you said firmly, concealing the raw ache in your voice with a smile. “And I don’t expect you to choose me every time. It’s okay. It’s happened before.”

“Can’t you see I’m hurting, too?” he asked, his voice breaking. Though you couldn’t see his face, the tremor in his voice revealed his struggle to hold back tears.

You couldn’t understand why he would be hurting with his decision. When faced with two crossroads, he always seemed to pick the path that led away from you. So instead of trying to comprehend his pain, you decided it was time to honor your own. For your sake. For Sachiro’s.

“Let’s just forget about that night,” you declared, wiping your eyes as you got up from your seat and prepared to walk away. “From this day forward, let’s pretend it never happened.”

——

Akemi’s apartment was dark when Satoru stepped inside.

And to be honest, the darkness was a relief. At least, she wouldn’t be able to see the lassitude etched on his face, not just from juggling his time between his son and her, but from the constant ache of hurting the person he loved.

Miscommunication is a couple’s greatest enemy, and the persistent disconnect between you two, coupled with the reluctance to clear things up, had worn Satoru down. He wanted to end this—the feeling of helplessness and the torment of seeing the woman he cared for caught in a labyrinth of despair.

The hospital visits to Sachiro alone had been a whirlwind of emotions and responsibilities, and this brief visit to Akemi felt like an unwelcome detour, but one he couldn’t avoid. Satoru knew his heart wanted to stay in the hospital with you, to wait for any updates on his son, to hold your hand and care for you, yet here he was, dragging his feet across the carpeted floors to approach Akemi.

“Hey.” She was sitting on the couch, looking frail but alert as if she had been desperately waiting on his arrival. She had recently started treatment for her stage 3 endometrial cancer, and Satoru could see the toll it was taking on her, physically and emotionally. He would be cruel to leave her hanging like this, to neglect her at her worst when she had been there by his side at his. Satoru had an unspoken accountability on her, because it wouldn’t be fair for him to just abandon her after she poured all her heart and soul into helping Gojou get back onto his own feet.

“Hey, ‘Kemi,” he said, his tone soft but distant. “Did you take your meds today?”

Akemi looked up at him, her eyes tired and heavy. “I did. I took them just like the doctor said. How’s Sachiro?”

Gojou’s expression tightened. “He’s holding steady at the moment.”

A heavy silence settled between them before Akemi broke the tension. “I’m glad he’s stable,” she said, quietly. “Are you okay?”

He nodded once, his mind already drifting back to the hospital. “Yeah. Listen, I need to head back soon. Nanami and Miwa will be alternating in looking after you from now on. They’ll make sure you’re okay while I’m dealing with Sachiro. I have to focus on my son.”

Akemi’s frail hand reached out to gently grip his arm, the other held her lower abdomen in pain. “Satoru, please don’t go just yet. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Now’s not the time to feel guilty. It was either her or Sachiro. Her or his son. Gojou decided to pull his arm away gently, his gaze distant. “Sachiro needs me, Akemi. You know that.”

Akemi’s face fell, but she knew it would be ridiculous to argue over that. “No, I understand. I get that. I want you to focus on Sachi, too. I just wish—” Before she could finish, her voice faltered, and she looked up at him with a hesitant gaze. “Satoru, do you regret that I took you back even if you cheated on me?”

The question caught him off guard, and Satoru’s blue eyes narrowed as he processed her words. He had been so focused on his responsibilities and the immediate crisis that he hadn’t given much thought to their ‘relationship’. All he knew was when he showed up at her doorstep back at the cabin, he was only going to try and end things with her. He was only going to clarify the longstanding feelings you and him poured out to each other that night, which was why he ended up sleeping with his ex-wife. But because Akemi suffered at the time, because her pelvic pain worsened to the point of an emergency, he had to hold back and just take care of her in the weeks that passed. He was caged in this situation like a prisoner who was found guilty for the crimes he had committed.

Just be honest, Satoru. Disregard everything else and just be honest. Satoru believed it was about time he stood his ground no matter the consequences. “You can’t take me back if we’re not together, ‘Kemi,” he breathed out those words, reticent on hurting her with the truth. If she would lash out on him, throw a vase on his head, slam a book on his face—he wouldn’t mind. He was ready to accept all the violence he deserved from being an asshole. “You knew from the start that this, us, was only temporary. It was never supposed to be serious.”

Her expressions turned doleful. “Then, in that case, did you at least…” Tears welled up in her eyes as she she paused, “Did you at least love me?”

“I just… I never saw it that way, Akemi.” Satoru’s honesty would destroy her, but he didn’t want to keep on sending out false hopes. He had to be firm, and while he was grateful for everything she did for him, that doesn’t mean he owed her his life and loyalty. In the first place, he warned her that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. And God, he was far from ready to even settle down, yet Akemi constantly hinted at wanting to tie the knot with him. Again and again did she mention the thought of a wedding and a child and her own family.

Satoru wanted all those things too, but with another person in mind. He was only set on having those things with one woman.

Akemi’s face paled upon hearing his answer and the fact that he didn’t even bother to explain himself. “I see. I guess I needed to hear that.”

Gojou looked at her with a mix of regret and sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you like this, I really do.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

It definitely wasn’t fine, but Satoru had to take her word for it as he got out from the couch and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “I have to go. Nanami will be here soon. Please make sure to follow the treatment plan and take care of yourself.”

Akemi nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Alright. I’ll see him when he gets here.”

As Gojou turned to leave, he felt a pang of guilt twisting deep in his gut but pushed it aside. He was a father first before anything else. Sachiro would always be his first and foremost priority amongst everything else.

——

After leaving Akemi’s place, Satoru was driving his car into the evening air beyond the speed limit. And his mind was racing together with him as he thought of you, your son, and the myriad of emotions he was struggling to manage. He couldn’t wait to be home, not literally at his own place, but anywhere with you and his son was his definition of home.

It would be diabolical for him to run into your arms and yell, ‘I’m free! We can be together again!’ No, that would be cruel and disgusting. He respected Akemi just as he respected you. It was himself that he couldn’t respect, because he was the one responsible for the mess that he created. And adding Sachiro’s critical condition on top of the already festering wounds in your relationship? It truly was the manifestation of karma in his actions.

His footsteps bounced through the hospital corridors the moment he arrived, each impatient step was ready to see your face and tell you he would never leave you and Sachiro now. But as he neared the pediatric ICU, his eyes darted around, the sight of his ex-wife was nowhere to be found. And instinctively, his heart pounded in his chest, and a drum of panic seemed to warn him of a storm that was about to come. Something was off, and it scared him.

“Nurse,” he called out, his voice edged with urgency as he approached their station. “Where’s my wife? The boy’s mother?”

The nurse looked up, recognizing the infamous CEO’s face. “Uh, Mr. Gojou, she was heading to the rooftop, I think.”

“What?!” he unintentionally yelled at her face, “Why didn’t you guys keep an eye on her?”

“Sir, calm down. She’s probably going to get some fresh air.”

A cold chill ran down his spine. You were definitely not there for that.

Without another word, he sprinted towards the stairs, taking them two at a time instead of waiting at an elevator together with a group of people. He had to get to you as soon and as fast as he could without another second to waste. Although the climb felt endless, his mind racing with fear and dread was the push he needed to finally reach you.

And upon bursting through the door to the rooftop, he was met with the soft whisper of the evening wind and the heart-stopping sight of you standing perilously close to the edge.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice breaking with desperation. “Don’t do this. Please, step back.”

You stood motionless, eyes fixed on the distant horizon, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of sorrow. “The world hates me, Satoru,” you whispered, the mellow tone of your voice carried away by the wind. “I’m a burden to everyone, even my own child. I-I just… I want to end it all.”

“No!” Satoru’s heart shattered at your words while he moved closer, his hands outstretched and careful not to startle or provoke you. He was dying to have you in his arms and keep you safe. “Y/N, please. Come back. What about Sachi? What about me? We need you. Sachiro needs you. I need you.”

What exactly made you go here? How did thoughts of ending yourself suddenly come into fruition? Was there something you discovered that brought you to this ultimatum? Gojou was desperate, utterly desperate, to hear what was running through your mind so that he could at least ease the burden that you were carrying all by yourself. He was once in the position where he wanted to commit too, and he knew the temptation that came with permanently escaping the cruelty of the world in just a single action.

“Y/N, please. Please, I’m begging. Come to me,” he rattled on in a suffocating whisper, the pleading in his voice was heavy, “Please. I love you. Only you.”

It was when you turned around that Gojou’s world collapsed, and the words you said after had shattered his entire universe.

They were still.

You.

And the wind.

“I’m pregnant,” you finally confessed, voice cracking as you looked at the faint tears that fell from Satoru’s eyes. “I don’t wanna have this baby.”

#series: sincerely yours #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo angst #gojo x reader

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feral4daryl · 1 year ago

Text

masterlist || MDNI

sweet scent.

perv!daryl x fem!reader

summary: while looking for his crossbow around the house, daryl ends up finding a pile of your dirty clothes and... used panties of yours. and when no one's looking, he decides to have some fun with them.

warnings: EXTREME AGE GAP (daryl is in his late 30s/early 40s and reader is 18), not entirely proofread, smut, mean!daryl sort of, corruption kink, daryl being an absolute pervert, panties sniffing, daddy kink, masturbation, cussing, daryl imagining himself doing the dirtiest things to you (unprotected p-in-v, squirting, face fucking, praising, loss of virginity, cunnilingus and i think that's pretty much it)

word count: 2.8k

a/n: please proceed with caution, this piece of work portrays a few extreme or unusual fetishes, so if you're not comfortable with any of those i've listed above please do not ready this. the idea that inspired this work originally belongs to @dilfsandmartinis.

if there was something daryl absolutely hated, it was the feeling of uselessness.

since andrea had mistaken him for a walker and shot him from afar, grazing his head, useless was exactly how he felt, having to lay down on a bed the whole day and night, doing absolutely nothing but be left alone with his own thoughts. and oh, what a disgraceful fate.

everytime he wasn't focused on hunting, fighting or surviving in general, the farmer's sweet younger daughter flooded his mind. your hair, your face, your stupidly adorable sundresses, everything about you was so... distracting.

daryl wasn't ever the kind of guy to simp for a woman, but that one specific girl made him feel emotions and sensations that were hidden deep within his being for years, maybe even decades. feelings he thought had vanished from his heart a long time ago were now blooming all over again, like he was some stupid teenager looking at a playboy magazine for the first time.

there was something about your innocence, your adorable mannerisms, your sweet voice and your kindness that had awakened something in him, something he wasn't quite sure what it was.

no, he wasn't exactly a young man. and while being aware that you were very young, he couldn't help but feel so guilty for having those feelings. whenever you bended over to pick something up, he had to fight demons not to have a glimpse of your panties. he often wondered how could you be so careless by exposing yourself like that, even if you didn't do it on purpose.

and there was him again, thinking about you. it's like no matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they were like water, always finding a way in.

he huffed, feeling defeated. he knew he was still recovering from the incident, and that he should rest, but why was he following orders around anyways? he wasn't a damn puppy. plus, everybody else had left him there to go looking for sophia. he wanted to be able to help too. he was alive after all, and if he was alive, he believed he should be on his feet.

so that's what he did. he slowly lifted his right foot, resting it on the floor, then he did the same with his left one. his body reluctantly lifted itself up, and he immediately could feel the consequences for laying down for so long, his back killing him and his vision a bit foggy. anyways, he ignored any discomfort and started walking slowly, his head still a little dizzy.

then, he remembered he needed his trustworthy crossbow, he couldn't just leave unprotected like that. he looked around the room he was settled in but it was nowhere to be seen. he knew it was still in the house, so he left the room. he started walking down the corridor, his eyes attentively looking for any signs of his crossbow. he was even starting to think that his mates might've hidden it to force him to stay in the house when he spotted a halfway open door.

his calloused hands pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom, all pink themed and stupidly decorated. no, his crossbow wasn't likely to be there, it just looked like it belonged to one of hershel's daughters, but it was like something was calling him in.

he stepped in the room and it almost looked messy. the dressing table on the corner had lipsticks, combs, all sorts of make-up and girly stuff all piled up and... a perfume.

it was happening again, images of you flooded his mind and it was like he could almost smell you. oh, your sweet scent had the power to make him hard like nothing else. just by looking at that small bottle, just by imagining your scent, he could feel little shock waves travelling all the way down to his cock, threatening to awaken it.

he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong thinking about a much younger girl like that. and it was even worse considering that you were the daughter of the man that provided him shelter in such difficult times. it felt ungrateful.

when he saw you for the first time, he didn't think much of you. he was actually careful, treating you like the stranger you were. and even when time passed, he never really got close to you. now and then you tried to share a word, even if just a little bit, but it seemed useless since he would reject all your attempted approaches. he didn't hate you like he tried to after acknowledging his disgusting desires for you, but he just couldn't allow himself to interact with a girl that made him sick to his stomach for all the wrong reasons.

your sweetness was almost annoying. the entire world had gone to shit, for goodness sake! dead bodies walking around and eating all the people they could find. how could you act so clueless all the time? daryl even wondered if you had ever seen a walker before, if you knew what was really happening out there. after all, it was very obvious that you were a daddy's girl, always protected under your father's wing.

but strangely enough, acknowledging that only made him protective towards you. he was always somewhat watching, always around you making sure you were safe and he barely knew why, he just felt like he should.

so he didn't stop himself from reaching over to your small perfume bottle. the design was very simple, no labels to be seen, time had probably faded it away. the cap was baby pink and heart shaped, and when he removed it, he immediately brought the bottle to his nose, giving it a gentle sniff.

fuck.

now, he was 100% sure that was your room. the fragrance was the same one that filled his nose and made him drunk in you everytime you walked by. he wondered if that was the scent he would feel if he ever hugged you, burying his face into your chest.

in that moment, he couldn't think about anything else, not rick, not carol, not his chores, not surviving, not even sophia. you were everything that he had in his fucked up mind.

he wouldn't feel so fucking guilty if his thoughts were only about your innocence and sweetness, but they were also dirty as fuck. countless were the times when daryl imagined groping you, running his hands all over your delicate body, feeling every texture, squeezing every junk and listening close to your every little whimper. he would pull your hair, gently at first, just to get it off your face and neck so he could pamper them with little wet kisses, gently scratching his teeth along them. he imagined he'd have to keep you on your feet himself, since you'd struggle to because of how weak your knees would get at all the sensations he would provide you and...

wait, no.

what was he thinking? was he out his fucking mind? he needed to stop those absolutely disgusting thoughts right away. he couldn't keep having those thoughts about you, not when you're out taking care of such important business with the others. he put the perfume bottle back on the dressing table, determined to let all that go. he knew he couldn't just let himself get so distracted like that over something so mundane and unimportant as his own sexual desires but then...

...he spotted a basket filled with clothes when he turned around to leave. his mind immediately started to rush all over again, and for the 100th time that day, he turned careless. he slowly approached it. shorts, tops, pants and so on could be seen at the top of the pile.

in that moment, he had totally forgot why he had entered that bedroom or even left his bed in the first place. he couldn't even remember the existence of his crossbow or his duties.

and then... he gets an idea. he starts going through the pile of dirty clothes and in no time, he finds your panties. they were white with a pink ribbon on the front, a clear reminder of your innocence. for a moment, he just looks at it, contemplating the possibilities. then, he remembers seeing you in it when you bended over to pick some off the floor the day before. he remembers catching a glimpse of it under your yellow sundress when you went to change his bandage.

that meant that those panties had been freshly worn.

if just your perfume ignited such vile desires in him, he couldn't even imagine what your natural scent could do to him. and he was oh so curious to find out. he still felt guilty, but that man had been sex deprived for so fucking long, he didn't even masturbate very often. he knew damn well he was about to commit a big mistake, maybe even starting something he was sure he couldn't finish, but he finally made up his mind.

he flips the small piece of cloth over, eyeing the soft-looking lining of the panties. he gulps, feeling his mouth water right away. god, what was he doing? what was right, what was wrong wasn't even important to him anymore. he just wanted to embrace his sickness.

there was a small stain on the lining, probably from you wearing it. just that sight alone was enough to get him off, and once again, he found himself having to face that tingling sensation inside his pants. he knew damn well what that meant and what was about to happen. but honestly, he couldn't give a single fuck anymore.

in one quick motion, he brought the fabric to his face, giving a long sniff while he rolled his eyes to the back of his head. that fucking scent of yours got him drunk the moment it filled his nostrils. so intense, so feminine and raw, daryl couldn't remember the last time he felt that type of pleasure, or if he had even felt anything like it before.

it made him needy like a horny teenager. he felt himself going back to puberty when all he could think about was jacking off day and night. and it was all your fucking fault.

daryl palmed himself through his denim pants, never taking your panties off his face not even for one second. the natural scent of your cunt was more than successful to make him hard as a rock, the sensation of being in his pants started to get uncomfortable as his dick grew bigger and bigger.

just palming himself wasn't enough.

he slowly unbuttoned his pants and unzipped them, inserting one of his hand in his briefs to catch his hard cock in it, freeing it for the first time in a while. his angry-red tip was literally pulsating while a clear and sticky liquid dropped down his length.

he wasn't able to hold a small grunt as he wrapped his calloused hand around his cock, the rough sensation of his fingers causing him to feel a jolt of pleasure so fucking delicious and guilty at the same time. the archer brought his hand to his mouth, catching some of his saliva to use as lube.

oh, how he wished you were there. he'd make sure you'd get his cock nice and wet with your spit so you could rub it up and down. and then, without warnings, he'd just shove it down your throat, forcing you to prove how much of a good girl you could be just for him.

and just for him. he wanted you all for his own. daryl never really liked to share, specially when it came to a girl like you, so princess like, so adorable looking. your plump lips looked so fucking perfect, and they would look even more wrapped around his big cock.

knowing how fragile you were, he knew you would definitely choke and gag on him, struggling to fit all of him in your mouth. he would whisper sweet encouragement words to you like “tha's it, tha's ma good girl”. he imagined how he would hold your head in place and keep a hand on your throat so he could feel his cock while he aggressively pumped it in and out, making you drool all over him. “just like tha', yeah, show daddy how fuckin' good ya are fer him”.

in his imagination, you would look up at him with those big doe eyes of yours, with a mix of uncertainty and desire to make him proud. “am i doing this right, daddy?” he could almost hear your voice saying it whenever you would take him off his mouth to catch your breath for a moment, never disconnecting your small hand from his thick length.

he started pumping faster, squelching sounds were all that could be heard in that silent room, a proof of his degeneracy. the grunts and stifled moans were only getting harder and harder to hold back. he was sticking those panties to his face and sniffing on them like his life depended on it, like he was a desperate virgin.

a virgin. he wondered if you were one. you sure looked like it, your dad never let you out of sight for long enough for you to try something like that, he supposed from what he knew about your relationship. he imagined how would it feel like to be the one to pop your cherry for the first time.

oh, he would teach you so many things, everything he knows. he would guide you through it all along, teaching you where to touch, where to kiss, where to lick. he would make your virgin little cunny cum so many times it would get all puffy and red. he even wondered if he could make you squirt, stuffing you with his fingers, brushing against your sweet spot over and over again until you were a quivering mess, squirting all over his skull tattoo. and yes, he would make you lick his fingers clean, your sweet little tongue dragging across them, and then, he would kneel down in front of you, not wanting to waste a single drop of your sweet release, attacking your sensitive clit and slit with his lips and tongue.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

he was so fucking eager to taste your slick, to revel in your salty taste. he imagined how fucking good the smell he was getting from your panties was from the actual source. he would lick it all, your lips, your slit, even your ass, but he would give special attention to your little clit, flicking his tongue on it, making it cum again just for him. he would never grow tired of it.

and when he felt you were finally ready for him, he would bend you over just like you used to do so absentmindedly. he would be gentle at first, but knowing himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for too long before absolutely railing the shit out of you, making you cry out and scream his name in pleasure and pain.

and when he flipped you over on your back, he would be able to see the bulge on your lower belly caused by his big cock inside you. just by imagining that he felt himself getting close to the edge. he would press his hand on it, making the little room inside your pussy even tighter. fuck, he imagined the sweet sounds you would make just for him.

all those dirty thoughts and your sweet scent from your panties were more than enough to make shivers run down his spine and his whole body tremble. he kept his eyes shut tight as he licked a stripe on the lining of your panties, trying to get some of your delicious taste. meanwhile, he hadn't stopped his hands not even for a second, harshly rubbing his cock up and down until it was too much.

in a strangled moan, his cock started shooting spurt after spurt of thick cum onto the floor, the dressing table and pretty much anything that was around. he couldn't remember the last time he had such an intense orgasm, the sensation making his mind completely empty except for your image.

his movements got slower until they stopped and he let go of his now sensitive cock. he sighed after catching his breath. he was left with that afterglow and the feeling that he made a huge mistake. suddenly, he felt dirty like before. he opened his eyes slowly, removing your panties from his face and putting them in his pockets. yeah, he knew it was wrong, but he was still planning to keep them for later.

then, when he averted his gaze to the mirror on his side, he saw...

you. standing on the doorframe with a shocked look on your face.

“u-uncle daryl?”

[PART TWO]

a/n: i know, i'm disgusting. i'm sorry. (just a quick reminder, english isn't my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or awkward phrasing lmao, and tysm if you read it this far)

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ybklix · 4 months ago

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KINKTOBER! ⁺˚⋆｡✧

˚‧｡⋆ SKZ ‘24, the masterlist:

⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★

OT8 INTRO: LUST

synopsis: Lee Minho plans a little getaway with his closest friends, their wives, and you, his girlfriend and most adored and prized possession, right after he intentionally reads your private diary and leaves him wandering with your writing about something particular.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

☾ BANG CHAN ☽˚.⋆

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

synopsis: As part of a college assignment, you interview a peculiar doctor about his success and long career, but then he starts telling you about the odd and unbelievable lifestyle he used to lead that got him there, claiming to be something you find funny at first, but then you get caught up in the details, causing tension and questioning reality. pairing: vampire!chrisbahng x inexperiencedfem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: corruption kink, breeding, choking, +more...

☾ LEE KNOW ☽˚.⋆

somebody’s watching me

synopsis: Meeting a mysterious and secretive man thrills every part of you, but unknowingly, he watches you from his window on a lonely night, not realizing that it will ignite a new behavior in him. pairing: lee minho x camgirl!femreader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: voyeurism, sex toys, perv tendencies, +more...

☾ CHANGBIN ☽˚.⋆

like lovers do

synopsis: Your new boss is quite interesting, so the night lends itself to a few drinks and the discovery of never-before-explored bodies in such an inappropriate but magnetic act. pairing: ceo!seochangbin x fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: deepthroat, dom/sub tendencies, sir kink, +more...

☾ HYUNJIN ☽˚.⋆

ART DECO

synopsis: An eccentric and peculiar artist, whose art is well known for its captivating and erotic method, is fascinated by you, who naively thought you just accepted a small job for him. pairing: dom!hyunjin x sub!femreader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: shibari ropeplay, bdsm, +more...

☾ HAN ☽˚.⋆

MIDNIGHT SHADOWS october 18th

synopsis: After discovering his wife's infidelity, a sorrowful man seeks fun and solace on a peculiar and dark night, whose twisted games of fate lead him to meet you, in such a strange way, in what seems to be a forbidden place where he shouldn't be. pairing: han jisung x fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: amaurophilia, facefucking, impact play, +more...

☾ FELIX ☽˚.⋆

nocturnal whispers october 21st

synopsis: On a long and tedious night, you and your boyfriend decide to spend some time, openly trying new things. pairing: lee felix x fem!femreader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: roleplay, sex toys, dreg kink, +more...

☾ SEUNGMIN ☽˚.⋆

unspoken storm october 25th

synopsis: On an unfortunate night of heavy rain you find yourself stuck without being able to move forward, until a kind man sees you and offers to give you lodging until the rain stops but he turns out to be your teacher; once being alone leads you to get to know each other better in such a specific way, exploring dangerous territories and forbidden fantasies. pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: spanking, corruption kink, +more...

☾ I.N. ☽˚.⋆

hotel california october 28th

synopsis: A young and naive Jeongin stays for a few days in a mysterious hotel with a certain strange vibe out of necessity but decides to stay after meeting you and in a way, until he has you, but everyone around him seems to keep secrets. pairing: rockstar!yangjeongin x fem!reader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: roleplay, chocking, +more...

⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★

OT8: Season of the witch october 31st

⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★ ⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★

INTERLUDES🕸️

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

BAHNG CHAN

⟶ pretty when you cry

⟶ in the night

⟶ teacher’s pet

⟶ dollhouse

⟶ playground

⟶ big bad wolf

⟶ be my daddy

⟶ sweater weather

⟶ little red riding hood

⟶ enjoy the ride

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

LEE MINHO

⟶ the uninvited

⟶ sad girl

⟶ behind closed doors

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

SEO CHANGBIN

⟶ asylum

⟶ onsen

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

HWANG HYUNJIN

⟶ lost muse ₊

⟶ ultraviolence

⟶ night time, my time

⟶ allure

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

HAN JISUNG

⟶ doll parts

⟶ don’t talk to strangers

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

LEE FELIX

⟶ trick or treat!

⟶ sinner

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

KIM SEUNGMIN

⟶ illicit affairs

⟶ veil of innocence

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

YANG JEONGIN

⟶ a little death

⟶ gods & monsters

⊹　︶︶　 ୨୧　︶︶　 ⊹

OT8 / fem!reader x specific members:

⟶ LIAR (ot8)

⟶ burning desire (ot8 - 3 part series)

⟶ fight club (chan & minho)

⟶ I put a spell on you (han, felix, seungmin)

⟶ intruders (han & felix)

🎃 ̊ ̟ ꒷ ꒦ 🦇 ꒦ ꒷ ̟ ̊ 🎃

happy fall and spooky season⭒✧˖°.🕷 ๋࣭ ⭑✮₊ ⊹

playlist (i'm still working on it)

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pellucid-constellations · 4 months ago

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Trial and Error (5)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Illness, angst babyyy <3

a/n: I'm going insane and crazy and every iteration of that. I love writing this fic so much I want it tattooed on my forehead. Thanks, love you all <3

Main Masterlist ♡

You were in and out of sleep for the next few days—much to your displeasure.

After attempting to down all the herbal remedies Azriel’s healer had left and continuing to care for your daughter without missing a beat, Azriel had made it clear that that would not fly. You told him several times to go home and not burden himself with caring for the two of you, but he was entirely too stubborn to listen to you.

You even watched as his shadows left and returned with messages for him, sure that his High Lord was calling him home.

But Azriel still stayed.

He made food, he served the food, and he fed Melanie, coaxing her delirious eyes open to make sure she took medicine at the right times. You weren’t completely incapacitated, but it didn’t matter; Azriel wouldn’t allow you to lift a finger.

He answered the door to the apothecary several times, sending away customers after collecting payments and restocking shelves, somehow privy to the knowledge of the store. You weren’t entirely confident that he wasn’t overcharging everyone or putting things in random places.

A few times, when sleep fought for the space in your mind, you felt fingers in your hair, along your face, across your shoulders. Each brush would send you deeper into the void you avoided so adamantly, and you were ignoring the fact that you had never felt safe enough to fall asleep in front of other people until now.

You caught Azriel holding Melanie on a few occasions.

You would crack an eye open after an unexpected bout of sleep and he’d be rocking her in his arms, bouncing her to sleep as she lay her flushed face on his shoulder.

Azriel had never told you if he had experience with children. Sure, he mentioned his closeness with Nyx and how much he loved his nephew, but that was… different from this. The ease with which he held Melanie, the instinct he seemed to have towards her—it felt different. Looked different.

You felt an unexplainable sense of safety as you watched them.

Melanie would pull back from his shoulder and arrange her fingers on the planes of Azriel’s cheeks and he would smile at her. And you felt safe.

You found more energy on the third day of the fever.

You got out of bed and took some semblance of a bath, fumbling around in the bathroom without much coordination. Your head was still fuzzy and an ache still permeated deep within your muscles, but the feeling was lessened.

It wasn’t until after your bath that you realized you hadn’t checked on Melanie the moment you woke up.

You hadn’t shot out of bed and raced to her room as you had done almost every morning since she was born.

You hadn’t feared that she was somehow taken from your home, from your arms—that she was in danger of being ripped from your grasp and sent back to Autumn to live out the same cruel fate you were destined for.

A small voice in the back of your mind offered a gentle whisper, reminding you that it was because of Azriel that you found that brief moment of peace.

You pushed it back.

With a shiver, you made your way down the narrow hallway to your daughter’s bedroom.

Empty.

You felt your heart rate tick up in a small bout of panic, but you were calmed by a fluttering in your chest just as quickly. The light pressure led you into the kitchen and then flushed into a warm bloom as the scene in front of you unfolded.

Melanie was bundled up in a blanket and sat atop the kitchen counter as Azriel whisked the contents of a bowl. She was talking her head off about something that happened at school and Azriel was nodding his head with each exasperated huff she let out. Another glance told you that Melanie had eaten an entire plate of food before you’d entered, a feat in itself as your daughter hardly ate to begin with—let alone when she was sick.

“Mommy!” Melanie cheered, wrapping her arms around your neck as you entered the quaint kitchen. “I thought you were gonna sleep forever. I wanted to wake you up but Mr. Azriel said you had to sleep to get better so he made me lunch.”

“Lunch, huh?” you smiled, gathering her into your arms and sliding her off the counter.

“Uh-huh. You slept through breakfast and lunch. Aren’t you hungry, mommy?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“Well, you should have Mr. Azriel’s pancakes.” Melanie yawned. Her blinks became longer. “They’re so good, mommy. He should live with us and make them all the time.”

From the stove, you heard Azriel breathe out a laugh. You glanced at him through your lashes as you held Melanie in your arms, the broad expanse of his wings barely contained in the kitchen. The shirt he wore strained against his arms as he shifted a pan on the burner and he didn’t look back as the two of you spoke.

“I think I need a nap,” Melanie proclaimed, rubbing at her heavy eyes. “I thought I was a big girl at school now and didn’t need to take naps. You told me that, mommy.”

You tore your gaze from Azriel’s back and offered your daughter a soft smile. “Well, you need rest to get better, too. So it’s okay for you to take naps right now.”

“I don’t like having hot blood. This is so annoying.”

You jutted your head back at her statement and made to have her explain, but Melanie shimmied from your arms and scampered off to her room before you could make a sound, her blanket dragging behind her.

That left you alone with Azriel.

“Hot blood?” you asked, leaning against the counter and attempting to appear casual in your own home. It was still surreal that he was up here—making pancakes in your kitchen—when just a few days ago, you never would have let him get past the stairs.

Azriel hummed and flicked the burner off, leaning his back on a nearby counter to face you. “I think she heard what Madja said when she was explaining what was wrong with you both. Mel’s been calling it hot blood. I didn’t—I didn’t think it was my place to correct her.”

You pressed your lips into a line and rubbed your forearm in some attempt of comfort. “Right.” A long pause. Azriel didn’t press you to speak. You did anyway to fill the dead air. “You really didn’t have to stay for as long as you did. I know this place isn’t what you’re used to and it must have been a handful with Mel—”

“I wanted to stay,” Azriel interrupted. He stepped forward and placed a hand on your forehead, ignoring the tension you felt weighing on your shoulders. “You’re still warm.”

“I feel a lot better. Almost completely fine. It would be okay… if you had somewhere to go. If you had to leave, I mean.”

The hand on your forehead slid down to your chin and tilted your face up. Azriel’s gaze flickered between your eyes—back and forth with a furrowed brow as if trying to parse out a deeper meaning behind your words or solve a puzzle you hadn’t presented. His hand was hot against your chin in a way it wasn’t against your forehead.

“You should eat,” he settled on. He brushed your still-damp hair back from your face before turning on his heel. “Mel was right. I make great pancakes and you haven’t eaten in a while. Lucky for you she didn’t finish all of them. She was close, but there are a few left.”

You let him fuss, watched him as he rooted around the cupboards to pull out a plate and a glass, and tried to figure this out now that you were more coherent.

Azriel had stayed—for almost three days he had stayed at your apartment and cared for you and your daughter as if it was expected. Each time you had woken up he had been there, coaxing water and bone-dry broth into your mouth before helping you see Melanie and then helping you to fall back to sleep. He had held your daughter and made her pancakes and he was still here.

Could this somehow be nefarious? Some ploy to get close to you just to use you as a bargaining chip and send you back home? Had the High Lord demanded that his Spymaster keep a close eye on you and this was the outcome?

No.

No, that couldn’t be the reason Azriel was setting a plate down on the counter beside you. That couldn’t be why he caught your eye with a worried gaze and seemed to pinpoint your inner turmoil almost instantly.

But why?

His visits over the past few weeks had been welcomed—confusing at first, but a welcomed break from the mundane, anxiety-fueled life you lived. You had grown comfortable with him and Melanie had begun asking for him when she showed you her art projects or had questions about the walks of life. You had come to expect his presence in your store and found yourself looking forward to the chance to see him outside of Melanie’s school.

But what could he possibly have to gain from making himself a constant in your life?

You had asked before, a single question with a simple “Why not?” for a response that you had brushed off. Because it wasn’t too much of a big deal for him to stop by or help you lift the apothecary boxes or let Melanie talk his ear off.

But this was a big deal.

It was a big deal when he sat beside you until you fell asleep and it was a big deal that he was still standing here now, inches from you, eyes boring into yours.

“Why are you doing this, Azriel?”

Your question seemed to suck all of the air from the room. Azriel winced to such an infinitesimal degree you almost missed it. His fingers twitched as they rested on the counter. The plate of food sat forgotten, its intended distraction wasted.

“I’ve already said.”

You shook your head. “‘Why not’ was okay when you were stopping by the apothecary a few times a week and flirting with me for fun. It was okay when you were saving me from nosey teachers and opening doors when my hands were full. It was okay when this—” you jabbed your finger between your chest and his “—didn’t involve you in my apartment holding my daughter until she fell asleep. I need more than why not, Azriel. I need to understand if… if…”

“What?” he whispered so close the air between you warmed.

When had he gotten so close?

“I need to know if this isn’t safe. If there’s some other reason for all of this.”

This time, when Azriel winced, he flinched. His body seemed to stun and his face twisted into a frown etched with such an uncomfortable pain it was difficult to look at.

He spoke as his head shook. “I’ve told you this isn’t… I want you to feel safe with me. I thought I would have proved that was possible after this.”

“You have,” you were quick to reply. “I wouldn’t have been able to take care of Mel if you hadn’t been here. But, that’s the thing. I don’t even know how you knew to come here. You walked in asking if I was okay—asking where Melanie was. I know your shadows spy, but why, Azriel? Why take such an interest in me? In us?”

“Is it not enough to just want to know you?” he asked, his words tight and pained.

“No. For others, maybe. But not… not after everything I’ve been through. Not when everything I have could be ripped away. I need a reason, Azriel. I can’t let this happen without one. I can’t put Melanie in danger.”

“I don’t understand,” Azriel pleaded. He got closer, wrenching his head down to find your eyes. “Help me to understand. What danger are you in? I can explain, but I can’t protect you without knowing.”

You let out an exasperated scoff, tugging at your hair and regretting the action as a headache bloomed. You took a step back until your back met the kitchen wall.

“You can’t protect me, Azriel. You can’t.”

“I could if you—”

“It doesn’t make sense that you want to! You work for the High Lord. You spy for him! Do you have any idea what any of that means in the grand scheme of things? What it could mean if someone found out that the Night Court’s Spymaster was suddenly asking around about someone from Autumn?”

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, confusion marring his features, but you were breathing faster, the fever and the panic combining beneath your skin.

“I have stayed hidden for five years—five. I shouldn’t have sent Melanie to school. I shouldn’t have asked for help from anyone. If… if someone finds me—”

“No one will find you. Hey—hey.” Azriel invaded your space, your back against the wall and his hands against your face. His eyes softened as they caught yours. “No one is going to find you. You need a reason why I want to be here with you? Why I care about you and Mel?”

Your jaw quivered under his fingers. You nodded in place of speech, unable to find words that wouldn’t make tears fall down your cheeks.

Azriel stared back at you with so much torture and conflict in his eyes you almost wanted to take back the request. He took several breaths and seemed unsure of his next words. But he held your face in his hands with such surety, strong fingers unshaken.

The Shadowsinger brought you forward with the guide of his palms until his lips met your forehead.

And then he pulled back and said, “You are my mate. I want to keep you safe—to protect you and Melanie—because you are my mate. You are what I’ve been waiting for for hundreds of years and if you want nothing to do with me after this, that’s fine. But if you’ll have me, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

part 6

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #acotar #acotar fanfiction

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sheep-from-rad · 17 days ago

Text

Batfam x Neglected! Ghost! Reader

Note: This is just an idea right now but I will turn this into a series. Currently I have two series in my head, maybe three if I will try and pursue that fake dating series with Jason Todd and Idol reader. I suck at writing angst so if this turns to a series, it will be a really short one.

Warnings: MCD, no use of y/n. I use (name) instead, angst

Masterlist

The neglect on Reader was unintentional. Bruce loves them, the family loves them, they check on them every now and then, spend time, hang out, etc. Reader was that one normal kid that flew under the radar because of that Bruce and the family never had to worry about them. Just checking on them once in a while is already good enough to quell whatever fear they have. However, one day, the reader just disappears.

There were no clues, no struggles, no bodies to be found. The family keeps trying to find reader but at the end the case was closed and became one of those unsolved files at the back of the GCPD archives

The Wayne manor is not haunted. Sure they have encountered metahumans and heroes (Deadman for example) with power that deals with the spiritual realm but there are no hauntings in the manor, not even scurrying rats.

The hauntings started when Bruce homed an artifact from Zatanna. He wasn’t supposed to home the artifact but there was a mix up with belongings during one night of crime fighting and he accidentally took the artifact home

Weird things started happening in the mansion: flickering lights, floating orbs. Sometimes they are also faces and disembodied voices, you know, standard haunting stuff

At first they thought it was just pranks between brothers like they were trying to scare each other as competition and they had the electrical units in the mansion checked. Each family member started pointing fingers at each other until Bruce remembered the artifact and he immediately called Zatanna to take it home

Problem solved, right? Well, not really because the hauntings continued. There were voices whispering at the once quiet halls, shuffling but there was no person present, even Titus and Alfred the cat are now more alert and they always seem to be watching something.

Seeing no other explanations, Batfam called in help from other heroes to solve the problem. During the ritual though, a familiar person came out.. Well, familiar used to be a human

“(Name)...is that you?” “...who?”

Ghost! Reader is a ghost that can’t move on because they have a business left to do. However, in some sick twist of fate, Ghost! Reader doesn’t also remember anything. They don’t know their name, why they are in the mansion in the first place, why they gravitate towards the family. In their head, they just randomly woke up in the mansion and they are a spirit

In other words, I just want to make a fanfic where Batfam is like ‘I want you to stay for a longer time but at the same time I know I had to help you gain your memories back and move on because if we don’t and then your soul will disappear forever’.

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simjaexy · 2 months ago

Text

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 | 𝙔.𝙅.

Pairing ⇀ Patient! Yang Jungwon x Patient! (F) Reader

Synopsis ⇀ After a traumatic event leaves you struggling to cope, you get admitted to a mental hospital in hopes of finding peace and healing. Feeling lost and overwhelmed on your arrival, you meet Jungwon, a fellow patient with his own burdens and a mysterious past. Even though Jungwon is a bit hot headed and tend to come off as rude and smart to people, you find solace in Jungwon company. What happens when you and Jungwon go through struggles together? Will he open up to you to his mysterious past? Or will he shut himself out, just like he did with everyone else?

Genre ⇀ ANGST, Fluff (If you squint), Eventual Smut

Warning ⇀ Implied character deaths, Car accident, Family issues (Jungwon side), Crying, Smoking, Depression, Mis-Communication, Fighting (Reader gets hit once in one), Shots, Arguments, No comfort, Jungwon is mean to Reader a lot, Jungwon has anger issues, Dom! Jungwon x Sub! Reader, Making out, Eating out, Overstimulation, No protection, have a feeling I missed some so lmk!

W.c ⇀ 15.7k

A/n ⇀ Hey guys! Sorry for being inactive lately, studies have been coming at me left and right and I didn’t have time to make any fics. :( So why not make a depressing fic just because. 😼 Reminder everything in this fic is fake and not real! Sunghoon fic of Hidden Desires is almost done so please stay tune for that! I know a lot have been waiting for that so I apologize for the wait! Also, if you would like to be added to the perm taglist click here! Not proofread!

Masterlist here

You remember clearly how the snow flew ever so softly against the window. Your eyes full of innocence and curiosity. Your mom looked back and gave you a soft smile. You returned it as she looked away from you.

You continued watching the snow fall when all of a sudden you hear the sound of screeching tires and the crunch of metal against metal filled the air as the your car collided with another vehicle.

Time seemed to slow down, and in those agonizing moments, you could feel every jolt and impact. The world spun around you, and then, everything went black.

Months had passed since that fateful night, but the memory of the crash haunted you every waking moment. You sat in a dimly lit therapist's office, your hands trembling as you recounted the events leading up to the accident. Your therapist, Dr. Mitchell, listened intently, a look of concern etched on his face.

“I just can't get it out of my head," You said, your voice barely above a whisper, "Every time I close my eyes, I see it happening all over again."

Dr. Mitchell nodded sympathetically, "You've been through a traumatic experience, and it's completely understandable that you're struggling. But I think it's time we consider a different approach to your treatment."

You looked up, confusion and apprehension mingling in you eyes, "What do you mean?"

“I believe that a more intensive form of therapy might be beneficial for you," Dr. Mitchell explained gently, "There's a mental health facility that specializes in helping individuals who have experienced severe trauma. I think it could be a good fit for you."

Your heart raced at the thought of being admitted to a mental hospital. The idea was daunting, since you’ve never been to one before, but you knew that you couldn't go on living like this. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the constant anxiety—it was all too much to bear.

“Okay," You said finally, your voice steady despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "I'll do it."

The rain poured heavily as you stepped out of the car, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and uncertainty. The imposing building of the mental hospital loomed ahead, its grey facade blending with the stormy sky. You took a deep breath, clutching your bag tightly, and made your way to the entrance.

As you entered, the sterile smell of disinfectant filled the air. A kind-looking woman approached you, her smile warm yet professional.

"Welcome," She said softly. "I'm Dr. Kim, the head of this facility. I'll be escorting you to your room."

You nodded, feeling a slight sense of relief at her reassuring demeanor. She led you through the winding corridors, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the walls. The hospital seemed quiet, almost eerily so, with only the occasional murmur of voices or the distant sound of a door closing.

Just as you were beginning to feel a sense of calm, a commotion erupted from a nearby hallway. Raised voices and the sound of a struggle reached your ears. Dr. Kim's expression tightened, and she quickened her pace, urging you to follow closely.

As you turned the corner, you saw them – two boys in the midst of a heated fight.

One of them, with strikingly intense eyes and a determined expression, was on top of another boy. He was grappling the another boy, their movements a blur of fists and fury. The sight was shocking, a stark contrast to the otherwise serene environment.

“Jungwon, stop!" Dr. Kim's voice cut through the chaos, authoritative and firm. The boys hesitated, their breathing heavy, but the fight didn't completely cease.

You stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Jungwon's eyes flickered towards you for a brief moment, and something in his gaze made your heart ache. There was pain there, and anger, but also a flicker of something else – a plea for help, perhaps.

Dr. Kim stepped between them, her presence commanding, "This is not the place for this," She said sternly, "Both of you, to your rooms. Now."

Reluctantly, the boys separated, still glaring at each other. Jungwon's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he turned and walked away, his shoulders tense.

Dr. Kim sighed, turning back to you with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry you had to witness that. Sometimes, emotions run high here. Let's continue to your room."

You nodded, still shaken by the encounter. As you followed Dr. Kim, you couldn't help but glance back towards the hallway where Jungwon had disappeared, a sense of unease settling in your chest. This place was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place of healing – but it seemed there were deeper wounds here than you had anticipated.

You followed Dr. Kim down the sterile, white-walled corridor of the mental hospital. The soft click of her heels echoed in the quiet hallway, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your mind. She opened the door and stepped aside, allowing you to enter first.

“This will be your room for the duration of your stay,” She said softly, her voice filled with a calm reassurance, “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask the staff.”

You nodded, offering a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Dr. Kim.”

She gave you one last encouraging look before leaving, the door closing with a soft click behind her. You stood there for a moment, taking in the room. It was simple, yet comforting in its own way.

A single bed with crisp white sheets, a small wooden desk, and a chair. The window overlooked a garden, the trees swaying gently in the breeze.

You walked over to the bed and set down your suitcase. As you began to unpack, the memories of the crash started to flood back. You tried to push them away, focusing instead on the mundane task of organizing your belongings. But the images were relentless.

You could still hear the screeching of tires, the shattering of glass, and the deafening silence that followed. You remembered the fear, the panic, and the overwhelming sense of helplessness. Your hands trembled as you folded your clothes, the fabric slipping through your fingers.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You couldn’t let the memories consume you. Not now. Not when you were trying to heal. You placed your clothes in the small dresser, each movement deliberate and slow, as if grounding yourself in the present.

Once everything was unpacked, you sat on the edge of the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion. You lay down, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your skin. As you closed your eyes, the memories of the crash played out behind your eyelids like a haunting movie reel.

You remembered the faces of your parents, the ones who were no longer with you. The pain was sharp, cutting through the fog of your mind. You took another deep breath, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest. Slowly, the memories began to fade, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your breathing.

Sleep began to creep in, a gentle pull that you didn’t resist. As you drifted off, you silently promised yourself that you would get through this. One day at a time. You would find a way to heal, to move forward, even if it meant facing the painful memories head-on.

In the quiet of your room, you finally found a moment of peace. The world outside continued to turn, but for now, you allowed yourself to rest, finding solace in the promise of a new beginning.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you got ready for your first group therapy session. You were surprised when a nurse woke you up from your sleep already seeing it was the next day. You guessed the flashbacks really got to you.

The events of the previous day still lingered in your mind, especially the sight of Jungwon fighting in the hallway. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease. Today was a new day, and you were determined to make the most of it.

You left your room and made your way down the corridor, the soft hum of the hospital’s air conditioning filling the silence. As you walked past someone room, you heard raised voices. Curiosity got the better of you, and you slowed your pace, peeking inside.

Jungwon was there, his face flushed with anger as he argued with a nurse, "I told you, I don’t need any help!" he snapped, his voice sharp and filled with frustration. The nurse tried to calm him, but Jungwon’s agitation only seemed to grow.

Feeling a pang of sympathy and a bit of fear, you quickly walked away, not wanting to be seen. The intensity of his emotions was palpable, and it left you feeling unsettled.

You continued down the hallway and finally reached the room where the group therapy session was being held.

As you entered, you were greeted by a circle of chairs, each occupied by someone who, like you, was here to find a way through their struggles. The therapist, a gentle-looking woman named Dr. Lee, welcomed you with a warm smile, "Come in, take a seat," she said kindly.

You sat down, trying to focus on the session. The group began to share their stories, each person’s vulnerability and courage inspiring in its own way. But your mind kept drifting back to Jungwon, wondering what had pushed him to such anger.

During a break, you overheard two doctors talking near the doorway, "Did you hear about Jungwon?" one of them said. "He’s not going to be in the group sessions today."

“Again? Why?" the other doctor asked, sounding surprised.

“Apparently, his behavior has been too disruptive. They think it’s best that he stays in his room." the first doctor replied.

You felt a mix of emotions – relief that you wouldn’t have to witness another outburst, but also sadness for Jungwon. It was clear he was struggling deeply, and it pained you to think of him being isolated even further.

When the session resumed, you tried to focus on the stories being shared, drawing strength from the collective resilience of the group. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but hope that Jungwon would find the help he needed, even if it wasn’t here in the group.

As the session ended, you left the room feeling a bit lighter, the support of the group giving you a sense of hope. But as you walked back to your room, you couldn’t shake the image of Jungwon’s angry face, and you silently wished him strength and healing in whatever path lay ahead for him.

After spending the morning in your room after two group sessions, it was time for lunch. You made your way down the corridor, the scent of food growing stronger with each step. The cafeteria was bustling with patients and staff, the noise a stark contrast to the quiet of your room.

You grabbed a tray and moved through the line, picking out a sandwich, some fruit, and a drink. As you turned to find a place to sit, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. The room was filled with people, but you felt alone, unsure where you belonged.

You scanned the room, looking for an empty seat. Just as you were about to settle at an isolated table in the corner, a guy approached you. He had a sly grin on his face, his eyes glinting with something that made you uneasy.

“Hey there,” he said, stepping closer, “Why don’t you sit with me?”

You hesitated, clutching your tray a little tighter. Before you could respond, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. Your heart raced, a sense of panic rising within you.

Suddenly, another voice cut through the tension, “Leave her alone.”

You looked up to see Jungwon standing there, his expression firm and serious. The guy stepped back, his grin fading as he realized he was outmatched.

“Mind your own business,” the guy muttered, but he didn’t push further. With a final glare, he walked away, leaving you and Jungwon standing there.

You turned towards Jungwon, you opened your mouth, ready to say a thank you, but Jungwon cut you off.

Jungwon turned to you, his eyes cold, “Seriously, can’t you handle anything on your own? If it weren’t for me saying something that guy probably would’ve assaulted you.” He snapped, “It’s like you were looking for trouble.”

His words stung, and before you could respond, he walked away, leaving you standing there with your tray. You felt a mix of gratitude and hurt, unsure how to process his sudden change in demeanor.

You found an empty table and sat down, the weight of the interaction pressing on your mind. As you ate, you couldn’t help but replay the scene in your head, wondering why Jungwon had been so harsh after helping you.

By the time you returned to your room, the encounter with Jungwon still lingered in your thoughts. The small spark of hope you had felt earlier was dimmed, replaced by confusion and a hint of sadness. Maybe, just maybe, this place wasn’t as comforting as you had hoped.

The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the hospital grounds. After a long day of therapy sessions and group activities, you decided to take a walk in the garden. The fresh air and the gentle rustling of leaves always brought you a sense of calm, a brief escape from the sterile walls of the hospital.

As you wandered through the garden, you noticed a figure sitting on a bench tucked away in a quiet corner. It was Jungwon. He seemed at peace, his eyes closed and a faint thin line playing on his lips. You paused, not wanting to disturb his moment of tranquility. There was something captivating about the way he looked, so different from his usual guarded demeanor.

You stood there for a while, watching him from a distance. The way the soft light highlighted his features made him seem almost ethereal. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice when his eyes fluttered open and landed on you.

“What are you staring at?” Jungwon’s voice cut through the silence, harsh and unexpected.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden change in tone, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to what?” He interrupted, standing up and closing the distance between you, “Spy on me? Invade my space?”

“No, I just...” You struggled to find the right words, confusion and hurt mixing in your chest, “I was just walking and saw you. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed, his expression hard, “You think just because we’re in the same place, you have the right to watch me like some kind of freak show?”

His words stung, each one like a sharp jab to your heart, “I didn’t mean it like that,” you said softly, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

For a moment, Jungwon’s face softened, but then he turned away, his shoulders tense, “Just... stay away from me,” He muttered before walking off, leaving you standing there in the fading light.

You watched him go, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. The peaceful moment you had witnessed was now overshadowed by his harsh words. You couldn’t understand why he had lashed out at you, why he seemed so angry when all you had done was admire the serenity he had found.

As you continued your walk, the garden no longer felt like a sanctuary. The beauty of the flowers and the gentle breeze couldn’t chase away the confusion and sadness that Jungwon’s words had left behind. You wondered if you would ever understand him, if there was more to his anger than what he had shown.

The next morning, you wake up with a sense of dread lingering from the previous evening's encounter with Jungwon. After getting ready, you head to the group therapy session, hoping to find some solace among others who understand your struggles.

As you enter the room, your eyes surprisingly immediately land on Jungwon. He's sitting in one of the seats, his expression unreadable. You hesitate for a moment, considering whether to sit next to him or not. The memory of his harsh words still stings, so you decide to sit far away, choosing a seat on the opposite side of the room.

The session begins, and Dr. Lee starts by asking everyone to share their experiences. As the circle progresses, you feel a knot forming in your stomach. When it’s your turn, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“I’m here because of a car crash,” You begin, your voice trembling slightly, “It happened a few months ago. My parents... they didn’t make it. I was the only one who survived.”

The room is silent, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. You notice Jungwon watching you intently, his eyes softening as you continue.

“I’ve been struggling with survivor’s guilt,” You admit, tears welling up in your eyes, “Every day feels like a battle, and sometimes I don’t know how to keep going.”

Dr. Lee nods empathetically, offering you a comforting smile, “Thank you for sharing that. It takes a lot of courage to open up about such a painful experience.”

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability. As the therapist moves on to Jungwon, you can’t help but glance in his direction. He’s staring at the floor, his hands clenched into fists.

“Jungwon, would you like to share why you’re here?” Dr. Lee asks gently.

For a moment, there’s only silence. Jungwon’s jaw tightens, and he shakes his head, “I don’t want to talk about it,” He mutters, his voice barely audible.

Dr. Lee respects his choice and moves on to the next person, but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to Jungwon’s story than he’s letting on. Throughout the session, you catch him glancing at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place.

As the session comes to an end, you gather your things and head for the door. To your surprise, Jungwon approaches you, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says quietly, avoiding your gaze, “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just... I have my own issues, and sometimes it’s hard to control my anger.”

You nod, appreciating his apology, “It’s okay. We’re all dealing with something here.”

Jungwon finally meets your eyes, and for the first time, you see a glimmer of vulnerability. But then it goes away just as fast and he walks away, leaving you alone in the room.

After the therapy session, you head back to your room, feeling a mixture of relief and exhaustion. The weight of sharing your story and hearing others' experiences has left you emotionally drained. As you settle into your bed, there's a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

The door opens, and the nurse from the day before steps in. You recognize her immediately as the one who had the confrontation with Jungwon. She smiles warmly at you, carrying a tray with some medication and a glass of water.

"How are you feeling today?" She asks, placing the tray on your bedside table.

"I'm okay," You reply, though your mind is buzzing with questions about Jungwon. You hesitate for a moment before deciding to ask, "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," She says, her expression kind and patient.

"The day before yesterday, I saw you with Jungwon. He seemed really upset. Do you know what happened to him?" You ask, hoping for some insight into the boy who has been occupying your thoughts.

The nurse's smile falters slightly, and she shakes her head, "I'm sorry, but I can't discuss another patient's history or personal information."

You nod, understanding the need for confidentiality, but you can't help feeling a bit disappointed. The nurse notices your expression and seems to soften.

"Jungwon has been through a lot," She says carefully, choosing her words with caution, "Sometimes, people have experiences that are difficult to talk about, and it affects how they interact with others."

Her words linger in the air, and you sense there's more to Jungwon's story than she's letting on. The nurse gives you a knowing look, almost as if she's trying to convey something without breaking any rules.

"Just remember," She continues, "everyone here has their own battles. Some are just more visible than others."

You nod again, feeling a bit more at ease. The nurse's words, though vague, give you a glimpse into the pain Jungwon might be hiding. She hands you the medication and waits while you take it, then collects the empty glass.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call," She says before leaving the room.

As the door closes behind her, you lie back on your bed, your mind racing with thoughts about Jungwon. You can't shake the feeling that there's something significant in his past that has shaped him into who he is now.

The sun was slowly setting indicating it was almost time for bed. You let out a yawn and rolled on your side. Your hoping tomorrow will be a more peaceful day.

The morning light filters through the thin curtains of your hospital room, gently waking you from a restless sleep. You stretch and decide that today, you'll make an effort to eat breakfast. It's been days since you arrived, and the thought of food hasn't crossed your mind much, but you know you need to take care of yourself.

You slip into a pair of slippers and make your way to the cafeteria. The smell of pancakes and coffee fills the air, and your stomach growls in response. You grab a tray and select a modest breakfast: some scrambled eggs, toast, and a small bowl of fruit. Scanning the room, you notice most of the tables are occupied by small groups or pairs, deep in conversation.

Finding an empty table near the window, you start to head that way when a voice calls out to you, "Hey, are you new here? Wanna sit with me?"

You turn to see a girl around your age, with bright eyes and a friendly smile. Grateful for the company, you nod and make your way over to her table, "Sure, thanks," you say, setting your tray down and taking a seat.

"I'm Mia," she introduces herself, extending a hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mia. I'm Y/n." You reply, shaking her hand.

As you start eating, Mia glances at you with curiosity, "I heard you talking about a crash in the group session yesterday. That must have been really tough."

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat, "Yeah, it was. It's been hard to process everything."

Mia gives you a sympathetic look, "I can't imagine what you're going through. But talking about it is a good step. It helps to share, even if it's painful."

You appreciate her understanding and openness. As you continue your conversation, you notice Jungwon entering the cafeteria.

He looks tired, his hair slightly disheveled, and yet he still looks handsome. There's a quiet determination in his eyes as he grabs a tray and starts selecting his breakfast.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you turn to Mia, "Do you know anything about Jungwon?" You ask, keeping your voice low.

Mia's expression shifts slightly, and she nods, "Yeah, I do. Jungwon's story is pretty intense. He doesn't talk about it much, but word gets around in a place like this."

She pauses, gathering her thoughts before continuing, "Jungwon had a rough childhood. His parents weren't around much, and he had to fend for himself a lot. There was an incident a few years ago that really changed him. He lost someone very close to him in a tragic accident. It left him with a lot of guilt and anger, and he's been struggling to cope ever since."

You listen intently, feeling a pang of empathy for Jungwon, "That sounds really hard," you say softly.

Mia nods, "It is. But he's strong, even if he doesn't always show it. He's been trying to work through his pain, just like the rest of us. Maybe one day, he'll open up more."

As Jungwon walks back towards his room with a tray, you can't help but feel a deeper connection to him. You understand now that his silence and his struggles are rooted in a past filled with pain.

As much as you wanna know more, you think focusing on building connections with the people around you first, starting with Mia. The road to healing is gonna be long, but with a friend by your side, it feels a little less daunting.

The room was filled with a mix of nervous energy and cautious optimism as the group gathered for their weekly session. Today’s topic was coping mechanisms, a crucial skill for everyone present.

The facilitator began the session by guiding the group through various techniques, from breathing exercises to journaling, aiming to equip them with tools to manage their emotions.

As the session progressed, the atmosphere lightened, and soon it was time for a break. You decided to grab a cup of coffee from the corner of the room with Mia. While you were pouring yourself a drink, you overheard two guys whispering near the window. Their voices were low, but the disdain in their tone was unmistakable.

“Did you hear what Jungwon did a few days ago? Always trying to start stuff," one of them sneered.

“Yeah, always trying to act like he's better than everyone else. It's pathetic," the other one added, chuckling.

You glanced over and noticed Jungwon standing nearby, his face paling as he caught every word. His fists clenched at his sides, and you could see the anger building in his eyes. Before you could intervene, Jungwon stormed over to the two guys.

"Say that to my face!" Jungwon shouted, his voice trembling with rage.

The room fell silent as everyone turned to watch the confrontation. The two guys smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction they had provoked. One of them stepped forward, ready to escalate the situation.

"You heard us. You're nothing but a—"

Before he could finish, Jungwon threw a punch, and chaos erupted. The facilitator and nurses rushed over, trying to separate them.

Amos tried grabbing you as you quickly moved to help, “Y/n no!” You heard Mia yell.

You grabbed Jungwon's arm in an attempt to pull him back. In the confusion, Jungwon swung his arm wildly, accidentally hitting you in the face.

Pain shot through your cheek, and you stumbled back, clutching your face. The room was a blur of shouting and movement as the nurses finally managed to pull Jungwon away, restraining him.

"Are you okay?" one of the nurses asked, her eyes wide with concern as she helped you to a chair. Mia quickly went by your side holding you up.

You nodded, still dazed from the impact. "I'm fine," you muttered, though your cheek throbbed painfully.

As Jungwon's anger flared, he didn't even notice that he had accidentally hit you. His focus remained solely on yelling at the guys, his voice echoing through the room.

The nurses quickly realized that the situation was spiraling out of control. Despite his protests, they managed to escort him out, hoping that some fresh air would help him cool down.

Mia sobbed, her worry not fading watching you hold your cheek, "Let's get you back to your room so they can patch you up properly."

You both made your way to your room, where the nurse was waiting with a first aid kit. The nurse looked up as they entered and gave the reader a grateful smile, “Thank you for stepping in earlier. It was very brave of you, but also quite dangerous."

You winced slightly as the nurse began to clean the cut on her cheek, "I know. I just couldn't stand by and do nothing."

The nurse nodded, her expression thoughtful, "What surprised me was how Jungwon seemed to calm down for a quick second when you touched him. It was like he recognized you and it brought him back to reality, even if just for a moment."

You thought back to the incident, remembering the brief flicker of recognition in Jungwon's eyes, "Yeah, I noticed that too. Maybe there's still a part of him that knows we're here to help."

The nurse finished applying a bandage to your cheek and gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, "Let's hope so. Just be careful next time, alright?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and determination, "I will. Thanks for helping me out."

Mia gave the reader a gentle hug, "We'll get through this together. Just take it easy for now, okay?"

You smiled, grateful for her friend's support, "Okay, Mia. Thanks for being here."

She gave you a bright smile before exiting the room with the nurse. You let out a pained sigh and lay on your bed. You decided to just skip lunch and your group sessions for the rest of day by sleeping.

You weren’t sure what time it was given how it was pitch dark out when you were jolted awake by a sudden, insistent knocking on your door. Groggy and disoriented, you stumbled out of bed and made your way to the door, wondering who could be visiting at such an odd hour.

As you opened it, you were surprised to see Jungwon standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and something else she couldn't quite place.

"Jungwon? What are you doing here?" You asked, your voice still heavy with sleep.

He didn't waste any time, "Why did you step in earlier?" He demanded, his tone sharp.

You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts, "I wanted to help. I didn't want you to get into trouble."

Jungwon sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You can't do that again. When I get angry, I can't stop until I see the person on the ground, not breathing. Do you understand?"

A chill ran down your spine at his words. You could see the seriousness in his eyes, and it scared you, "What do they do to you, Jungwon?" You asked quietly, needing to understand what was happening to him.

He looked away, his jaw tightening, "They gave me a shot to make me fall asleep. It's the only way they can control me when I get like that."

Your heart ached for him. Your reached out and gently touched his arm, trying to offer some comfort, "I'm sorry you have to go through that. But you have to know that I'm here for you, even if it's dangerous."

Jungwon looked back at you, his eyes softening for a moment. But when he noticed your arm on him, he quickly retreated back, “Don’t step in like that again."

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his request. "I promise. But please, if there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

He scoffed, “I stopped asking for help a long time ago.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he turned away and left, leaving you alone once again. You quietly shut your door and head back to your bed. You fell asleep hoping that Jungwon will open up soon, even if it meant going out of boundaries.

The morning sun was setting through the window of your room where Mia and you sat on your bed, cards spread out between them. Mia was patiently teaching you a new card game, her voice calm and encouraging.

"Okay, so you want to match the suits, like this," Mia explained, demonstrating with a couple of cards. You nodded, trying to follow along, when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," You called out, glancing up from the cards. A nurse poked her head in and smiled.

"You have a visitor," The nurse said.

You frowned in confusion, "A visitor? Who could it be?"

The nurse stepped aside, and in walked your aunt, her face lighting up with a mix of relief and concern as she saw her niece, “Auntie!" You exclaimed, standing up quickly and moving to embrace her.

"How did you know I was here?" You asked, pulling back slightly to look at your aunt.

Your aunt sighed, brushing a strand of hair from the reader's face, "Your therapist told me. I was so worried when I heard."

As you both stood there, your aunt's eyes fell on the patch on your cheek. Her expression shifted to one of worry, "What happened to your face, sweetheart?"

You touched the patch self-consciously and gave a small, reassuring smile, “It's nothing serious, Auntie. Just a little accident. I'm doing fine, really."

Mia, sensing the need for some privacy, began to gather up the cards, "I'll give you two some time to catch up," She said kindly, offering you a supportive smile before slipping out of the room.

Your aunt guided you back to the bed, sitting down beside her, “Tell me how you're really doing," She insisted gently.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's been tough, but I'm managing. The doctors and nurses here are great, and Mia's been a big help. I'm working through things with my therapist, and I feel like I'm making progress."

Your aunt nodded, her eyes filled with empathy, "I'm glad to hear that. It's important to take things one day at a time. Just know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

You felt a wave of gratitude and relief wash over her, “Thank you, Auntie. That means a lot."

You both spent the next hour talking, catching up on family news and sharing memories. Your aunt's presence was a comforting reminder of home and the support system waiting for you outside the hospital walls.

As you talked, you felt a renewed sense of hope and determination to keep pushing forward on your journey to recovery.

After spending a comforting hour with your aunt, you felt a sense of warmth and reassurance. You both shared a heartfelt hug, and you walked your aunt to the door of the hospital room.

"Thank you for coming, Auntie. It really means a lot to me," You said, your voice filled with gratitude.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Remember, I'm just a phone call away," Your aunt replied, giving one last squeeze before heading down the hallway.

You watched your aunt leave before turning back to her room. You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go find Mia. You wanted to invite Mia back to your room to continue their card game, hoping it would help distract you from the day's emotions.

As you approached Mia's room, the reader heard voices inside. You paused at the slightly ajar door and peeked in, your curiosity piqued. Mia was sitting on the edge of her bed, and Jungwon was standing in front of her, his expression tense.

"When are you going to tell her, Jungwon?" Mia asked, her voice filled with concern.

Jungwon's face hardened, and he responded harshly, "That's none of your business, Mia. Stay out of it."

Your heart sank as you watched the exchange. You noticed Jungwon turning to the door and quickly hid behind a chair. After he stormed out the room, walking the opposite direction you stood up, but only to be met face to face with Mia.

Mia looked up and saw you standing there, her eyes widening in surprise, “Oh, hey," She said, trying to mask her anxiety with a forced smile, "I didn't see you there."

You stepped in front of her, your mind racing with questions, "I was just coming to ask if you wanted to come back to my room," You said slowly, eyes flickering to the door where Jungwon had just exited.

Mia stood up, her expression softening, "Of course, I'd love to. I'm sorry about that... you know, what you just saw. It's... complicated."

You nodded, sensing Mia's reluctance to explain further, "It's okay," You said, though your mind was far from at ease, "Let's just go back and finish our game."

Mia followed you back to your room, the tension from the previous conversation still lingering in the air. You both sat down on your bed, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something important was being kept from you. You glanced at Mia, who was shuffling the cards with a focused expression, and decided not to press the issue for now.

As you both resumed the game, you tried to push the unsettling encounter out of your mind. But the questions remained, nagging at the back of your thoughts. What was Jungwon supposed to tell that person? And why was Mia so concerned? The answers would have to wait, but you knew you couldn't ignore them forever.

After a fun and intense game of cards, you and Mia share a laugh together as you kept messing up. The room is filled with warmth and the faint smell of antiseptic, but the laughter makes it feel almost like home.

You stand up, stretching slightly before announcing, "I'm going to use the restroom, I'll be right back."

As you walk down the dimly lit hospital corridor, the sound of your footsteps echoes softly. Turning a corner, you notice a faint haze and the unmistakable scent of cigarette smoke.

Curiosity piqued, you peek around the corner and see a group of guys huddled together, smoking. Their faces are shadowed, and their laughter is low and menacing.

Your heart races as they try to quietly walk away, hoping to avoid any confrontation. But before you can escape, one of the guys notices and calls out, "Hey, where do you think you're going?" You freeze, feeling a knot of fear tighten in your stomach.

"Come here," Another guy demands, his voice rough. You hesitate but steps closer, trying to stay calm, "If you don’t tell anyone, we’ll let you have a hit." One of them says, holding out a cigarette. You shake your head, backing away slightly.

"No, thanks, we’re not supposed to be smoking anyways." You reply, trying to keep your voice steady. But the group steps closer, surrounding you. Your mind flashes back to what Jungwon had said earlier about being weak. Determined to prove him wrong, you tried to push past them, but one of the guys grabs your arm.

"What's the matter? Scared?" He taunts. Your pulse quickens, and you yank your arm free, shoving the guy away. Anger flares in his eyes, and the group tightens their circle.

"Leave me alone," You say firmly, but your voice wavers. The guys laugh mockingly, and one of them steps forward, pushing you against the wall.

"You're not going anywhere," He sneers. You struggles, trying to fight them off, but your outnumbered. The group grows more aggressive, their grip tightening.

Just as things seem dire, a loud voice echoes down the hallway, "Hey! What’s going on here?" You look up, hope sparking in your eyes. A nurse rounds the corner, her expression stern and authoritative. The group hesitates, then reluctantly backs off, muttering under their breaths as they disperse.

The nurse rushes to your side, helping you stand, "Are you okay?" She asks, concern evident in her voice. You nod, still shaken but relieved.

"Yeah, I think so," You reply, your voice trembling slightly. The nurse escorts you back to your room, as you were reaching your room, you glanced back over your shoulder.

That's when you saw him—Jungwon. He stood at the edge of the hall, his expression serious and intense. He had been watching the entire scene unfold, his eyes never leaving you.

The nurse led you inside your room. You collapse into a chair, trying to steady your breathing, but your mind was also elsewhere. You couldn't shake the image of Jungwon standing there, watching you with such intensity. What had he been thinking? Why hadn't he stepped in to help when he saw you having trouble?

Mia goes up to you, worry etched on her face, "What happened?" She asks. You takes a deep breath, recounting the encounter briefly. Mia listens, her expression shifting from concern to anger.

"Those guys are the real weak ones," She says firmly, “You stood up to them, and that's what matters." You nod, feeling a sense of pride and relief wash over you.

When the nurse finally leaves, you found yourself drawn to the door, your gaze searching for Jungwon. He was still there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Your eyes met, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Finally, Jungwon pushed off the wall and walked the opposite way, leaving you confused and upset. Mia voice slowly disappeared as you continued staring at the door.

The night was thick with silence, the kind that made every creak and whisper seem amplified. You tossed and turned in your bed, unable to find any semblance of sleep. Frustration gnawed at you, and you finally decided that a walk might help clear your mind. Slipping out of bed, you padded quietly down the sterile hallways and out into the hospital garden.

The garden was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, casting long shadows that danced with the gentle breeze. As you wandered aimlessly, you spotted a familiar figure seated at a bench—Jungwon. He was in the same spot you had seen him before, his posture rigid, his gaze distant. You felt a pang of something you couldn't quite name and decided to turn away.

But before you could take another step, his voice cut through the stillness, "Stop," He commanded, his tone cold and unyielding. You froze, your heart pounding, "Sit with me," He added, though it was less of a request and more of an order.

You hesitated, your pride and fear warring within you, "No, I don't think I should," You replied softly, trying to muster the courage to walk away.

Jungwon's expression darkened, and he stood up, closing the distance between them in a few quick strides, "I said, sit with me," He repeated, his voice harsh and leaving no room for argument.

Swallowing your apprehension, you nodded and followed him back to the bench. You both sat in silence for a few moments, the tension between you guys palpable.

Gradually, the stillness of the night began to soothe your nerves, and you found yourself gazing up at the stars. They seemed to twinkle with a kind of serene indifference, a stark contrast to the turmoil in your heart.

Jungwon finally broke the silence, "You were brave," He said, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of seriousness, "What you did with those guys... it took guts."

You glanced at him, surprised by the unexpected compliment, "I just didn't want to be seen as weak," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to look at you, his boba eyes reflecting the starlight, "Bravery isn't about never being scared. It's about facing your fears, even when you're terrified," He said quietly. "You did that. Although I think I’m the cause to why you acted like that."

His words hung in the air between them, and you felt a mix of emotions—gratitude, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite place. You both sat there for a while longer, simply admiring the stars. The silence between you guys was no longer tense but filled with an unspoken understanding. As the night wore on, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

When you both finally stood to leave, Jungwon's serious demeanor softened just a bit, "Next time you can't sleep, come find me," He said. "We can admire the stars together."

Your eyes widened before a soft smile rose on your lips, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, "I will," You promised. And as you walked back to your room, you felt a sense of peace you hadn't known you needed.

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, gently waking you from a restless sleep. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, knowing today was the group therapy session.

You got ready, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The sessions lately have been going good with Mia by your side. You felt grateful with her, but today felt different.

As you walked into the room, you noticed Jungwon sitting alone, his usual cold and serious demeanor even more pronounced.

You took a deep breath and decided to sit next to him. He gave you a brief glance but didn’t object, which you took as a good sign.

The session began, and everyone shared their updates. You could feel the tension in the room when it was Jungwon’s turn. He had never opened up before, always keeping his emotions tightly locked away.

To everyone’s surprise, Jungwon started to speak. His voice was low and controlled as he began, "My parents… they never really cared for me. It was always about what I could do for them, not about who I was or how I felt."

The room fell silent, everyone hanging on his every word. He didn’t go into much detail, but the mere fact that he was sharing was a huge step. When he finished, he simply looked down, not saying anything more.

You felt a surge of pride for him. Jungwon had taken a significant step by opening up, even if it was brief. The group might have been shocked, but you understood the courage it took for him to speak up.

Dr. Lee immediately spoke, “T-Thats amazing that you shared Jungwon. I’m glad you did.” Jungwon didn’t say anything.

As the session ended, you gave him a small, encouraging smile, hoping it conveyed your support. He didn’t give a smile back and simply got up and left. Mia stood next to you, “I can’t believe he actually said something.”

You gave her a small chuckle, “Me too. It’s a big step.” You murmured. Mia nodded her head. You both headed to lunch with. few other people.

As you and Mia joked around, ready to head to the cafeteria, Dr. Kim's voice halted you in your tracks, "Can I speak with you for a moment?" She asked, her tone serious. You turned to see her standing in the doorway of her office, her expression unreadable.

"Sure, Dr. Kim," you replied, you looked at Mia who gave you an understanding nod, and you following her into the room. She closed the door behind you and gestured for you to sit. You took a seat, feeling a knot of anxiety form in your stomach.

"I saw you in the garden last night," Dr. Kim began, her eyes locking onto yours, "With Jungwon."

Your heart skipped a beat. You and Jungwon had thought you were alone, away from prying eyes, "I... we were just talking," You stammered, unsure of what to say.

Dr. Kim nodded, her expression softening slightly, "I understand that you're trying to help him. And I commend you for that. Jungwon is a difficult person to reach, and it seems you've managed to get through to him in a way that no one else has."

You felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe she was going to support your friendship with Jungwon. But then her expression turned serious again, "However, I need to warn you. Jungwon is a troubled person. He has a lot of issues that he's dealing with, and I'm concerned about the impact it could have on you."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop you, "I know you care about him. But you need to think about your own well-being too. It's not your responsibility to fix him. He needs professional help, and while your support is valuable, it can't replace that."

Her words stung, but you knew she was right. Jungwon had been through a lot, and his cold, hard exterior was a defense mechanism he had built to protect himself.

You had seen glimpses of the real Jungwon, the one who was vulnerable and hurting, but you also knew that he had a long road ahead of him.

"I just want you to be careful," Dr. Kim continued, "You have a big heart, and it's admirable that you want to help. But don't lose yourself in the process."

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. You cared about Jungwon deeply, but you also understood the risks involved, "I understand, Dr. Kim. I'll be careful."

She gave you a small smile, her eyes filled with empathy, "That's all I ask. Now, go and enjoy your lunch. And remember, I'm here if you need to talk."

You left her office, your mind racing with thoughts. You knew you couldn't abandon Jungwon, but you also had to take care of yourself. It was a delicate balance, one that you would have to navigate carefully.

As you walked to the cafeteria, you resolved to be there for Jungwon, but also to heed Dr. Kim's advice. You would find a way to support him without losing yourself in the process.

Once you came to the cafeteria, you sat down in front of Mia. Mia looked up from her book, immediately noticing the troubled expression on your face.

"What's wrong?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed and sat down on your bed, running a hand through your hair, "Dr. Kim told me to stay away from Jungwon," You admitted, feeling a lump form in your throat, "She said he's too troubled and that I need to think about my own well-being."

Mia's eyes widened slightly, and she put her book aside, "She told me the same thing," Mia confessed, her voice soft, "And back then, I actually did stay away from him."

You looked at her, surprised, "How long have you known Jungwon?"

Mia sighed, leaning back against the headboard, "Jungwon was in the hospital longer than I was," She explained, "But I only knew him because my guy friend used to be friends with him before he got discharged. After my friend left, I stopped talking to Jungwon."

You felt a pang of sympathy for Jungwon, realizing how many people had distanced themselves from him, "Why did you stop talking to him?"

Mia shrugged, a sad smile on her face, "It was easier that way. Jungwon's issues were too much for me to handle, and I had to focus on my own recovery. But I always felt guilty about it. I did promise my guy friend that I’d stay by Jungwon side for him."

You nodded, understanding her perspective, "I don't want to abandon him," You said softly, "But I also don't want to lose myself in the process."

Mia reached out and squeezed your hand, "It's a tough situation," She said gently, "But you have to find a balance. You can support him, but you also need to take care of yourself. Don't let his problems consume you."

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more grounded, "Thanks, Mia. I needed to hear that."

She smiled, her eyes filled with empathy, "Anytime. Just remember, you're not alone in this. We're all here for you."

You walked into the second group session, scanning the room for familiar faces. But one face was missing – Jungwon. You assumed he had already spoken and decided not to stick around. The session went on, but your mind kept drifting back to him, wondering what he was up to.

Once the session ended, you made your way back to your room. As you passed Dr. Kim's office, you were startled by the sound of yelling. You peered inside and saw Jungwon, his face contorted with rage, shouting at Dr. Kim.

"How could you do this to me?" He screamed, his voice filled with anger and hurt. He slammed his fist on her desk, sending papers flying. Dr. Kim tried to calm him down, but he was beyond reason.

Your heart pounded as you watched in shock. Jungwon's outburst escalated, and he started throwing things off the shelves, his fury uncontrollable. Nurses and doctors rushed in, trying to restrain him.

"No! Let me go!" Jungwon yelled, struggling against their grip.

You couldn't just stand there, "Don't give him a shot!" You shouted, running towards them, "Please, just let him calm down on his own."

The medical staff hesitated, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Dr. Kim looked at you, her expression a mix of concern and frustration, "We're trying to help him," She said firmly.

"I know," You replied, your voice trembling, "But sedating him won't solve anything. He needs to feel like he has some control."

Slowly, Jungwon's resistance weakened, and he slumped in the doctors' hold, exhausted from his outburst. They guided him back to his room, and you followed closely behind, making sure they didn't administer any medication.

As you reached his room, you stepped inside, and the staff left, giving you a moment alone with him. Jungwon sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, breathing heavily.

"Hey," You said softly, sitting down next to him, "Are you okay?"

He looked up at you, his eyes red and filled with a mix of anger and sadness, "I don't know," He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, "Everything just feels so messed up."

You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "It's okay to feel that way," You said gently, “But you don't have to go through it alone. We're all here to help you, even if it doesn't always feel that way."

Jungwon nodded slowly, absorbing your words. It was silent for a few seconds before he slowly shrugged you off. Not again. "Thanks," He muttered, "I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this."

"We'll figure it out together," You promised. "One step at a time."

For the first time since you entered the room, you saw a flicker of hope in Jungwon's eyes. It was a small step, but it was a step in the right direction. And as you sat there with him, you knew you would do everything in your power to help him find his way.

You waited patiently for a few seconds before you decided to ask him a question, “Jungwon, what was Dr. Kim saying to you?” You questioned. It was silent for a while.

You felt like you stepped out of line and tried to cover it up, but Jungwon spoke before you did, “She was saying that… that my sister was gonna see me today, but she told her that I wasn’t in right mind to be visisted.” He whispered.

You were lost in thought. Jungwon's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features, "I don't know," He muttered, looking away, "I just... don't."

"That doesn't make sense," you pressed gently, "Why would she say that to her? I haven’t really known you for a long time, but I know you’d never do something stupid to your sister."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "It's complicated," He said, his voice softer now, "I have... issues."

You took a step closer, your heart aching for him, "Jungwon, what kind of issues?"

Jungwon hesitated, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "Anger issues. People don't want to be near me because of it."

You felt a pang of sadness, "Is that why you were upset? Because you think your sister wouldn't want to be near you?"

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor, "Yeah. I guess... I just assumed she’d be like everyone else."

“Jungwon," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I'm not like everyone else. I want to understand you, to help you if I can. And I know your sister would too.”

He looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty, "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I care about you," you replied honestly, "Everyone has their struggles, and it doesn't make them any less worthy of friendship or support."

For a moment, Jungwon seemed to struggle with his emotions. Then, slowly, he began to open up, "I've always had a hard time controlling my anger," He admitted, "It scares people away. They think I'm dangerous, that I'll hurt them."

"But that's not who you are," You said firmly, "You're more than your anger. And I'm willing to stand by you, if you'll let me."

Jungwon stared at you for a hot second before staring down on the ground. You can tell he was fighting some dry comment, "Thank you," He whispered, "I don't know if I deserve it, but... thank you."

You smiled, feeling a sense of relief and hope? "We'll figure it out together," you promised.

As you both sat there, but being able to move, you knew this was a big step for Jungwon to opening up to you. You hoped you helped in some way about being comfortable.

"Jungwon, can I ask you another question?" You asked gently.

He looked at you, you noticed his eyes shifted from soft to hard and guarded, "What is it?”

"I want to understand you better," You said, "I want to know why you always seem so angry." If you were going to help him, you’d have to know why he always felt angry and out of place.

Jungwon sighed, running a hand through his hair, "It's complicated," He muttered, looking away.

"Try me," You encouraged, "I'm here to listen."

He hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke, his voice low and filled with pain, "I’m not really sure why I have it, but my parents never paid much attention to me," He began, "They were always too busy with their own lives. The only person who ever really cared about me was my older sister. She promised she'd always be there for me, but when she went to college, she never contacted me again. No calls, no visits. Nothing."

You felt your heart ache for him, "That must have been really hard."

"It was," Jungwon admitted, "But it got worse. I had a best friend, Sunoo. He was the only one who understood me, who made me feel like I wasn't alone. But then he passed away. It felt like the universe was against me, like everyone I cared about would eventually leave me."

You saw his eyes turning glossy, but then he blinked and harshly wiped them away, "I'm so sorry, Jungwon," You whispered, "That must have been unbearable."

He nodded, “That's why I never got close to people. I pushed everyone away, even Mia and our other friend. Because at the end of the day, they left me too. I couldn't bear the thought of getting close to someone else, only to lose them."

You reached out and gently took his hand, "You're not alone anymore, Jungwon. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.”

“How do I know if I can trust you?” He whispered. You immediately fought the urge to hug him. Like you said before, you aren’t really that close. But he was willing to open up to you. So you’ll leave at that for now.

“Because I’m not willing to leave anytime soon until you’re better.” You spoke, your face serious.

Jungwon didn’t say anything, instead he looked out his window. You knew you didn’t need another reason to stay any longer, so you stood up from his bed and headed towards the door.

“Please let me know if you need anything Jungwon.” You said. Jungwon didn’t look at you. You let out a quiet sigh before shutting his door with a click.

The day had been long, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, the hospital began to quiet down. You had just finished your last group session for the day and decided to take a moment for yourself. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you were headed back to your room when you overheard a conversation that stopped you in your tracks.

Two nurses were talking in hushed tones near the nurses' station, "I heard Dr. Kim is planning to transfer Jungwon to another hospital," One of them said, her voice tinged with concern, "He's been so angry and upset lately. They think a change of environment might help."

Your heart skipped a beat. Jungwon was going to be sent away? You couldn't believe it. After you finally got to know more about him, he’s being sent away?

Without thinking, you made your way to Jungwon's room. The hallway seemed longer than usual, your footsteps echoing in the silence. When you reached his door, you hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts. Then, summoning your courage, you knocked softly.

A few moments later, the door opened, and there stood Jungwon, his expression as unreadable, "What is it?" He asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, "I just overheard the nurses talking. They said Dr. Kim is planning to transfer you to another hospital."

Jungwon's face remained impassive, showing no sign of surprise or concern. "I knew she was gonna do something," He replied simply, his tone flat.

You felt a wave of frustration and sadness wash over you. How could he be so indifferent? "Aren't you worried? Don't you care?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Jungwon's eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something—an emotion, perhaps—before it disappeared, "It's not my decision to make," He said quietly, "If she think it's best for me, then so be it."

You stood there, searching for the right words, "I just... I don't want you to go," You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, "I feel like I’ve known you too late, I still want to help you.”

Jungwon's gaze softened ever so slightly, but he remained silent. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, "Thank you," He said, his voice almost gentle, "But I guess Kim was right, it's easier to keep people at a distance."

You suddenly felt anger. Why does he listen to her? “Jungwon, what Dr. Kim says to you isn’t true. I don’t know why she treats you so horrible, but it’s not right!”

The air in the room was thick with tension after you finished. The words hung in the air, heavy and significant, but Jungwon's face remained impassive, showing no trace of emotion. You could feel your frustration building, a knot tightening in your chest. How could he just stand there, so unresponsive, when everything was falling apart around you?

"Jungwon," you began, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation, “Did you even hear what Dr. Kim said? Do you even care?"

Jungwon remained silent, his eyes fixed on a spot somewhere beyond you. It was as if he was in another world, completely detached from the reality of the situation. The silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms.

“Say something, Jungwon!" You finally shouted, unable to hold back any longer, "Anything! Just let me know that you're feeling the same way I’m feeling!"

Before you could utter another word, Jungwon moved. In an instant, he was in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face. His eyes, which had seemed so distant moments ago, were now filled with an intensity that took your breath away. And then, without warning, he kissed you.

The kiss was soft yet urgent, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness. It was as if he was pouring all the emotions he couldn't express into that single, tender moment. Your anger and frustration melted away, replaced by a flood of warmth and love. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you could see the unspoken apology in his eyes.

“I'm sorry," He whispered, his voice barely audible, "I just... I don’t know how to handle it. But I'm here. I'm with you."

You stared at his apologetic eyes. He kissed you. You suddenly felt that wave of sadness and before you could stop yourself, tears poured out of your eyes. Jungwon felt you tug at his shirt as you cried.

You didn’t want him to leave. To leave you. You don’t know how much longer you would stay here, and to have Jungwon be alone once again. Jungwon let your cry in his shirt, unable to push you away. And at the moment, the only thing left was you cries and sobs, and that one last string that was holding you and Jungwon together.

You woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, remnants of last night's tears still evident on your pillow. Every muscle in your body felt heavy, weighed down by the emotional turmoil you had gone through. The thought of eating breakfast or attending the group session seemed unbearable, so you decided to stay in bed, hoping to find some solace in the quiet of your room.

A soft knock on your door shattered the silence. You hesitated for a moment, then slowly got up to answer it. Standing there was Jungwon, his expression serious and his demeanor cold. The warmth and tenderness from last night seemed like a distant memory.

"Jungwon," You said, your voice barely above a whisper, “What are you doing here?"

"I'm leaving in a week," He stated bluntly, his eyes not meeting yours. The words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt a fresh wave of sadness wash over you.

"In a week?" you repeated, your voice trembling.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer and gently rubbed your cheek, his touch surprisingly comforting despite his cold exterior. The memory of the kiss from last night flashed in your mind, and you couldn't help but ask the question that had been haunting you.

“Why did you kiss me, Jungwon?" You asked, your eyes searching his for any hint of the emotions he seemed to hide so well.

He finally looked at you, his gaze intense and unreadable, "I don’t know," He admitted, his voice quiet but firm, "It was just something I've been wanting to do."

The simplicity of his answer left you speechless. You had expected a deeper explanation, something that would make sense of the confusion and pain you were feeling. But as you stood there, looking into his eyes, you realized that sometimes, emotions couldn't be neatly explained or understood. They just were.

Jungwon's touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before he pulled away, his expression softening just a fraction, "Just because I’m leaving, that doesn’t mean to take advantage of yourself Y/n. Take care of yourself," He said.

Now that you’ve looked at it, you noticed how his expressions were. His once anger that he always felt seemed to just have drifted away from him. He looked numb. Maybe he was only feeling that way towards you, or that he just gave up on trying.

“I won’t. Thank you.” You muttered.

It had been a long, dreading week since you learned that Jungwon was leaving on Friday. The news had hit you hard, but you resolved to spend as much time with him as possible before he left. Each day felt like it was slipping through your fingers, and the more you were with him, the more you noticed how numb he seemed. The seriousness that he held never wavered, and it was as if he was trying to distance himself emotionally before his departure.

You tried to make the most of the time you had, mostly in the garden and seeing the stars together. You liked watching his expression soften as he stared up at the stars.

The days flew by, and before you knew it, it was Friday—the day Jungwon was leaving. The morning felt heavy with unspoken words and emotions. You met him at the place where you'd first met, a small, quiet spot that held so many memories. He stood there, his face as unreadable as ever.

"Jungwon," you began, your voice trembling, "I can't believe today is the day."

He nodded, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance, "Yeah."

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, "I've noticed how numb you've been this week. Why, Jungwon? Why do you keep everything inside?"

He finally looked at you, his eyes softening just a bit, "It's just how I deal with things," He said quietly, "It's easier to be numb than to feel everything at once."

You reached out and took his hand, hoping to break through the walls he had built around himself, "But you don't have to do it alone. You don't have to shut everyone out."

For a moment, he squeezed your hand, a small but significant gesture, “I know," He said, his voice barely above a whisper, "But it's hard for me to open up. Especially now."

You felt a tear escape and quickly wiped it away, "I'll miss you, Jungwon. More than you know."

He took a step closer, his expression softening even more, "I'll miss you too," he admitted, his voice filled with an emotion you hadn't heard before, “More than I can say."

You stood there in silence, holding onto each other, trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Finally, he pulled away.

“Take care of yourself," He said, his voice steady but tinged with sadness.

"You too," You replied, your heart aching.

As he walked away, you felt a mix of sorrow and hope. Sorrow for the time you were losing, but hope that maybe, this wasn't the end.

You spent your days in the hospital feeling a void that couldn't be filled. Jungwon's absence was a constant ache in your heart. Every corner of the hospital reminded you of him, from the cafeteria where you'd share quiet thoughts to the garden where you'd steal moments of peace together.

Mia, ever observant, noticed the change in you almost immediately. One day, she approached you with a concerned look, "Hey, are you doing okay? You seem different lately."

You forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside, "I'm fine, Mia. I promised Jungwon I wouldn't change because he left."

Mia gave you a sympathetic look, "It's okay to feel a little sad, you know. It's only natural."

You sighed, feeling a weight lift slightly from your shoulders, "Yeah, you're right. I do miss him a lot."

Dr. Kim had also noticed the change in you. One afternoon, she called you into her office. You sat down, feeling a bit anxious as she looked at you with a serious expression.

"I've noticed a difference in you lately," She began, "I was hoping you didn't have romantic feelings for Jungwon, as that's not allowed."

Her words stung, and you felt a mix of anger and sadness, "Why would you say that? Jungwon is one of the kindest people I know."

Dr. Kim sighed, her expression softening slightly, "Jungwon is not in his right mind right now. It's important for you to focus on your own well-being. I also noticed Jungwon change when he was leaving. You must mean a lot to him, but like I said, that’s not allowed."

You felt a surge of frustration, “How can you say that? You don't know him like I do."

Dr. Kim looked at you, her eyes filled with concern, "You're right Y/n, I don’t. I'm just looking out for you. It's important to stay professional and keep your emotions in check. You’re not here to look for love.”

You left her office feeling even more conflicted. You missed Jungwon deeply, and now you had to navigate your emotions while trying to remain professional. But you knew one thing for sure—you wouldn't let anyone dictate how you felt about Jungwon.

The sleepless nights seemed endless. Each one was a reminder of how much you missed Jungwon. You'd lie awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying memories of him in your mind. The hospital felt colder and lonelier without his presence.

In an effort to cope, you started attending group therapy sessions. At first, it was difficult to open up, but over time, you found solace in the shared experiences of others. The group became a small beacon of hope, helping you feel a bit better day by day.

Despite the progress, the ache of missing Jungwon never fully went away. His absence was a constant shadow, but you learned to manage it better. The group sessions taught you valuable coping mechanisms, and slowly, you started to find small moments of peace.

Months passed, and you began to notice a change in yourself. The sleepless nights became less frequent, and you started to feel a sense of normalcy returning to your life. You still missed Jungwon deeply, but you were learning to live with that feeling.

Finally, the day came when you were getting discharged. It felt surreal to be leaving the hospital after so long. You packed your things, feeling a mix of emotions—relief, anxiety, and a lingering sadness. As you walked through the halls one last time, you couldn't help but think of Jungwon and all the moments you shared.

The day had finally arrived. After months of being in the mental hospital, you were getting discharged. You packed your belongings, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As you walked through the familiar halls one last time, you made your way to Mia's room. Mia had become a close friend during your stay, and saying goodbye was bittersweet.

"Mia, I'm leaving today," You said softly, trying to hold back tears.

Mia smiled, though her eyes were watery, “I'm so happy for you. You've come so far. Promise me you'll take care of yourself out there."

You nodded, giving her a tight hug, "I promise. I'll miss you."

With a heavy heart, you left Mia's room and headed towards the exit. Just before you reached the door, you saw Dr. Kim approaching.

"Hello, Dr. Kim," you greeted her.

Dr. Kim smiled warmly, maintaining her professional demeanor, "I'm proud of you. You've made remarkable progress. Remember to take things one day at a time."

"Thank you, Dr. Kim. I couldn't have done it without your help," You replied sincerely.

Dr. Kim handed you a folded piece of paper, "This is for you. Open it when you have a moment."

Curious, you took the paper and nodded, "Thank you."

You walked out of the hospital and got into the cab waiting for you. As the cab started moving, you unfolded the paper. It was a letter. The handwriting was familiar, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized it was from Jungwon.

Dear Y/n, I'm so sorry I never had the courage to confess my feelings to you. I've loved you ever since we first spoke. I regret not telling you sooner. I hope you can forgive me. If you want to, visit me anytime at [hospital address]. I’m hoping you meant what you said you’ll never leave me.

Love, Jungwon.

Tears streamed down your face as you read the letter. The emotions were overwhelming. You had missed Jungwon deeply, and knowing he felt the same way brought both pain and relief. You clutched the letter to your chest, feeling a mix of sorrow and hope for the future.

As the cab drove on, you looked out the window, the world outside seemed a little brighter. A new sense suddenly came to you and that’s when you had an idea.

You told the cab driver to take you to the hospital where Jungwon was staying. The drive felt like an eternity, your mind racing with thoughts of what you would say and how he would react. You hadn't seen him in so long, and the anticipation was almost unbearable.

When the cab finally pulled up to the hospital, you paid the driver and stepped out, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. You walked through the sliding doors and approached the front desk, where a nurse was busy with paperwork.

"Excuse me," You said, trying to keep your voice steady, “I'm looking for Yang Jungwon. Is he still here?"

The nurse looked up and smiled kindly, "Yes, he is. He's in room 312. Just take the elevator to the third floor and turn left."

You thanked her and made your way to the elevator, your heart pounding in your chest. As the elevator doors closed, you took another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. When the doors opened on the third floor, you followed the nurse's directions and walked down the hallway until you reached room 312.

You hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the door handle. Finally, you gathered your courage and pushed the door open. There he was, sitting up in bed, looking healthier than you had ever seen him. His skin had a healthy glow, and his eyes were brighter. He had changed so much in the months since you'd last seen him.

"Jungwon," You said softly.

He looked up, and for a moment, his cold exterior seemed to melt away, "You came," he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and relief.

Without thinking, you rushed forward and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly. He stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed, hugging you back just as tightly.

"I missed you so much," You whispered, tears streaming down your face.

"I missed you too," He replied, his voice cracking with emotion, "I'm so glad you're here."

You pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," He said with a small smile, "A lot better, thanks to you."

You walked into Jungwon's room, immediately struck by how neat and orderly everything was. The room's cold, clinical atmosphere seemed to match his reputation. But you knew better; you knew that beneath that exterior was someone worth caring for.

You sat down on the edge of his bed, feeling the tension in the air, "How's everything been here?" you asked softly.

Jungwon looked at you, his eyes softening for a moment, "A lot better," he said, his voice tinged with relief.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you, "I'm so glad to hear that. I was really worried about you."

He nodded, then his expression became more serious, "I'm relieved that you got discharged. I was worried too."

You reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "I hope you get discharged soon too. You deserve to be out of here."

Jungwon sighed, looking around the room, "No one has visited me. My sister is always so busy; she doesn't get the chance."

You felt a pang of sadness for him, "I'd like to meet her," You said, surprising even yourself with the sudden declaration.

He looked at you, confusion flickering in his eyes, "Why?" He asked, but he didn't press further.

"Where do you think she lives?" You asked, determined.

Jungwon gave you a small, grateful smile, "I think she lives in the city, not too far from here. [apartment adress]?"

You nodded, already planning your visit, "I'll go see her and tell her about you. She needs to know how you're doing."

For the first time in a long while, Jungwon looked genuinely relieved, "Thank you," He said softly, "That means a lot to me."

You spent the rest of the visit talking about his stay here and how much everything was different. You noticed how better he looked when he spoke about different things.

You stood by Jungwon's hospital bed, feeling a mix of emotions. It was time to say goodbye, but you promised yourself it wouldn't be for long, "I'll visit you again soon," You said, your voice filled with determination.

Jungwon looked at you, his usual stoic expression softening slightly, "I'll be waiting," He replied.

Gathering your courage, you leaned in and gave him a shy peck on the cheek. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. Jungwon's lips curled into a small smile, a rare sight that warmed your heart.

You turned to leave, glancing back one last time before heading out of the room. As you walked down the hospital corridor, you couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. You needed to see his sister and tell her everything.

The cab ride felt like an eternity, but finally, you reached the apartment building where Jungwon's sister lived. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing a woman who looked strikingly similar to Jungwon.

"Who are you?" She asked, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"I'm a friend of Jungwon's," You explained, "I met him at the hospital."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she stepped aside to let you in. You took a seat on the couch, feeling a bit nervous but determined to convey your message.

“Would you like anything to drink?” She asked, heading in the kitchen.”

“A glass of water is fine.” You replied. You heard turning on the sink as she hummed a tune before coming back in with a glass of water. She gave it to you and sat across from you.

"I wanted to talk to you about Jungwon," You began. "He's been really lonely at the hospital. He misses you a lot."

She looked down, her expression softening, "I know I've been busy, but I didn't realize how much it affected him."

You nodded, understanding the weight of her responsibilities, "He understands that you're busy, but he needs you. Even a short visit would mean so much to him."

She sighed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, "Thank you for telling me. I'll make time to visit him. He deserves that."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you, “I'm glad. He really needs his family right now."

She stared at the ground, “I know. Everything been going downhill for me lately that I forgot to visit. I-I feel so bad that I left my baby brother like that. I’m the reason why he’s in the hospital.”

As she sobbed, you noticed how she’s been probably keeping all of this in. They were both going through so much, and yet, no one was there to comfort them. As she wiped her tears away she took a deep breath.

“Jungwon was a good boy. He was never a bad kid. When my parents wouldn’t be there for him, I was. He relied on me so much that when I left for college, he cried so much. I knew that leaving him would be my worst mistake.” She began, “When I got to college, I was so focused on my studies I couldn’t call or visit. And then all of a sudden I hear about him being admitted to a hospital and his friend passing away I knew he was going through so much. And yet, I still didn’t see him. I felt guilt for leaving him that I thought he didn’t wanna see me.”

you nodded your head in understanding, “I know how you feel. I would’ve thought that too. But Jungwon really does miss you. I feel like talking to him first would tell you everything.”

She nodded and wiped her eyes, “I will. Thank you…um,”

“Y/n. Kim Y/n.” You said.

She gave you a smile and nodded, “Thank you, Y/n.”

As you left her apartment, you felt a sense of accomplishment. You had taken a step towards helping Jungwon reconnect with his sister. And as you hailed a cab to head back home, you couldn't wait to see the look on Jungwon's face when his sister finally visited him.

You arrived at your aunt's house, feeling a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. She welcomed you warmly, her embrace providing a sense of comfort you desperately needed, "How was your visit?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"It went well," You replied, managing a small smile, "I need to unpack my things."

She nodded, understanding your need for some time alone. As you unpacked your clothing, your thoughts drifted back to Jungwon. You were determined to visit him again the next day, hoping to see some improvement in his spirits.

You finished unpacking and lay on your bed, soon your eyes began drifting in to slumberland.

The next morning, you made your way back to the hospital. As you approached Jungwon's room, you paused in the doorway, a smile spreading across your face. Jungwon and his sister were sitting together, deep in conversation. It was a sight that filled you with immense relief and happiness.

His sister noticed you first, giving you a warm smile as she stood up to leave. "Thank you," She whispered as she passed by, her eyes conveying her gratitude.

You walked over to Jungwon, who looked up at you with a faint smile, "How are you doing?" You asked, taking a seat beside his bed.

“I'm doing fine," He replied, his voice stronger than before. "Actually, I have some good news. I'm getting discharged soon."

Your heart leaped with joy, "That's amazing, Jungwon! I'm so happy for you."

He nodded, his eyes reflecting a sense of hope you hadn't seen before, "Thanks to you, I got to reconnect with my sister. It means a lot to me."

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you, "I’m just keeping my promise. You deserve to have your family around you."

Jungwon reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently, "You did more than help. You gave me hope."

As you sat there, holding his hand, you realized that this was just the beginning with Jungwon. You knew you were gonna be with him every step of the way. And knowing that he would soon be out of the hospital filled you with a sense of optimism for the future.

After a few days of visiting Jungwon, the day finally arrived for him to be discharged. You could hardly contain your excitement as you made your way to the hospital for the last time. Jungwon's sister had given you her number, and you had arranged to meet them at their home to celebrate.

When you arrived at Jungwon's sister's house, you felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. You knocked on the door, and it was quickly opened by Jungwon's sister, who greeted you with a warm smile, “Come in, come in," She said, stepping aside to let you in.

As you walked into the living room, you saw Jungwon sitting on the couch, looking much healthier and happier than the last time you saw him in the hospital. The moment he saw you, his face lit up with a big smile. You rushed over to him and hugged him tightly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

"I'm so glad you're finally home," You said, pulling back to look at him.

“Me too," Jungwon replied, his eyes shining with gratitude, "Thank you for everything."

The afternoon was spent in the best way possible. Jungwon's sister had prepared a delicious meal, and the three of you sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. It felt like a family gathering, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for being included in such a special moment.

As the sun began to set, you found yourself feeling more and more at home. Jungwon's sister noticed your comfort and suggested, "Why don't you stay the night? We have a guest room, and it would be nice to have you here."

You hesitated for a moment but then nodded, realizing that you didn't want to leave just yet. "I'd love to," you replied, smiling. You sent your aunt a text to let her know.

The evening was spent watching movies and talking about everything and anything. Jungwon seemed more relaxed than you'd ever seen him, and you felt a deep sense of contentment just being there with him and his sister.

When it was finally time to go to bed, Jungwon walked you to the guest room, "Thank you for staying," He said softly, his eyes filled with warmth.

"Of course," You replied, giving him a hug, "I'm just glad you're okay."

Before he could go, you gently grab his wrist. You hesitated for a moment before speaking, "I was wondering if you could sleep with me tonight. I just... I don't want to be alone."

Jungwon's eyes softened, and he nodded, “Sure, I'll stay with you."

The two of you made your way to the guest bed, and as you settled into the bed, you felt a sense of comfort wash over you. Jungwon lay down beside you, and you turned to face him, feeling the warmth of his presence.

As you both lay there in the quiet, you decided to share something that had been on your mind, "I visited Mia today," You began, "She's getting discharged soon."

Jungwon smiled, "That's good to hear."

You looked into his eyes, searching for something, and then you asked, "Can I ask you something? I know you and Mia talked a few times, and I was just curious about what you talked about that one day. I-I’m sorry but I kind of eased drop.”

Jungwon sighed softly, his expression thoughtful, "Mia and I were talking because I told her that I wasn't sure if you'd be okay with a guy like me liking you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a mix of emotions, "Why would you think that?"

He looked at you with sincerity in his eyes, "I just didn't want to burden you or make you feel uncomfortable. I care about you a lot, and I didn't want my feelings to complicate things."

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently, "Jungwon, you don't have to worry about that. I care about you too, more than you know. And I'm really glad you're here with me."

A soft smile spread across his face, and he leaned in closer, and kissed you. The kiss was soft and gentle. You softly sighed into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. He gripped your waist softly.

The kiss soon turned into a urgent one and before you knew it, he was above you kissing your neck. You softly moaned and gripped his hair making him let out a groan. He took his shirt off and bends down to kiss you again.

Slowly, you took off your shirt and shorts, leaving you in your undergarments, “Fuck,” Jungwon whispered. He kissed along you jaw and chest and was faced to face with your core. He kissed your cloth pussy softly making you gasp.

He slowly pulled your underwear down to reveal your soaking pussy. You whined when his hot tongue licked your folds, “You taste so sweet.” He teased. You couldn’t speak and continued letting out breathy moans feeling his tongue do magic.

You felt your orgasm coming and squirmed, “J-Jungwon- hic! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned. He sucked on your bud and that’s when your orgasm came over you. He didn’t stop licking and sucking on your pussy until you were clean.

He leaned up and took off his sweats and boxers revealing his dick. You bit your lip staring at the red tip with precum. He softly stroke it and aligned his dick in your entrance. Slowly, he finally pushed in making your breath get caught.

You held him tightly as he waited for you to get used to it before moving just a tad bit. You let out a choked cry feeling him push in deeper, “Your squeezing around me so tight.” He hissed.

You mewled in his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. He took that as a sign to keep going and that’s when you felt a sting of pain and pleasure, “P-Please. Move.” You whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice and began moving at a normal pace. The sound of loud skin slapping and moans were heard in the room. You couldn’t hold in your noises and covered your mouth remembering his sister isn’t that far.

He chuckled and dipped down to give you a kiss on your temple before gong at faster pace making you let out a choked moan. You felt him in your stomach, feeling his mushroom tip hitting all the right spots. You knew you were gonna cum soon. You watched Jungwon let out breathy groans and sighs feeling you milk his dick. He could be in you forever.

You felt your orgasm coming and rubbed your bud in circular motions, “G-Gonna cum- ah!” You cried out before you were coming all over his dick. Jungwon snapped his hips a few more times before cumming inside you. He slowly pulled out of your now filled pussy and lay beside you, panting.

He slipped his arm around your waist and nuzzled his nose in your neck making you giggle. Jungwon stared at you with a look in his eyes, “I wouldn’t mind having a baby with you.” He suddenly said.

You stared at him back, “I mean, you did cum inside me.” It was silent for a few moments before you both burst out giggling.

“I love you, Jungwon.” You whispered. He hummed, his eyes slowly closing.

“I love you too.” He finally said. You felt a wave of happiness feeling your heartbeat quicken.

Eventually, you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence. It was a night that marked the beginning of something new, something beautiful, and you couldn't have been more grateful for it.

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starsofang · 6 months ago

Text

CALL OF THE SEA / PART TWO

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, kidnapping, 141 are mean pirates, brief mentions of gore/death masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

The time you spent in the brig was frigid and isolating. Despite it being summer, the cold gusts of the sea had crept in through the thin cracks of the wooden ship, rising goosebumps on your skin and sending shivers wracking through your body. You were in no attire to accommodate the chill, only dressed in your barest of summer garments, thin and dirtied from the poverty your village lived in.

Silence became your new friend, while also your enemy. As much as you were one to appreciate the quiet of the world, the waves crashing along the sides of the ship were far too loud, taunting you with a grim reminder that you were lost at sea with no home to return to.

Your home was burned down to ash, surely with no survivors, given the state of havoc you’d returned to when Ghost told you to fetch your things. Your home didn’t treat you kindly, but it was still the place you’d grown up in and planned on dying peacefully. Now, you were a prisoner to pirates, ones only told about in silly fairy tales.

The stories of pirates had scared you when you were a young child. The elders had grouped together all children on summer nights such as this one, feeding them useless fables of the dangerous men and women that ruled the seas. They were ruthless, showing no remorse for the ones they tormented, uncaring of the bloodshed they splattered along native lands of the innocent.

That’s all they were when you were a child. Stories. Only meant to keep the youth away from the seas as not to witness them fall in and succumb to a painful death of drowning.

Now, though, it was your cruel reality. A nightmare. The pirates from those tales had been plucked straight out of the book and planted right into your life, erupting it into living hell.

Nobody had come to check on you after Ghost left you locked up in the cell. It had been hours since, the only telltale sign being the peek of sunlight poking through the small brig window and illuminating the room enough to shower you in a faint glow. There was nothing but a cot in the cell, the lower deck bare of anything useful.

Your escape would be fruitless. You’d thought about squeezing through the tiny window, but even if you managed, where would that leave you? Captured in the waves of the sea until you’d sink to the bottom in exhaustion.

You had to play it smart. Staying awake for hours alone had left you with plenty of rapid thoughts, some irrational. The best thing you’d decided in the end was to play along, gain their trust, and fulfill your role. As much as a part of you wished you were dead, it would be betraying your village, betraying Mary.

They needed to be caught. These pirates needed to pay for their crimes.

Gain their trust. Get off of the ship. Inform the nearest guard station.

When daylight fully broke, the sound of a creaky door caught your attention. More sunlight poured through the open doorway from the top of the stairs, showcasing one of the pirates. This time, it wasn’t Ghost, but instead, the one who had tossed you over their shoulder like a weak sack of potatoes.

Gaz said nothing as he descended down the stairs. In his hand was a steaming bowl, swirling around him like an ominous mist. His eyes locked on to yours, hardened from years of thievery and slaughter. There wasn’t an ounce of kindness in them, nor indication that he was anything besides a sailing machine designed to follow Captain’s orders.

You watched keenly as he approached your cell. He stood over you like a brewing storm cloud, shadowing you from the stretch of light behind him.

For a moment, the two of you sat there frozen. You, terrified and cautious. Him, off putting and brooding.

Breaking the tension, his free hand scrambled for the keys latched on to the loops on his trousers, inserting one of the keys into the lock. He paused, eyeing you as a warning not to pull a brainless move. When he was satisfied you wouldn’t dare, he tugged the cell door open before stepping inside.

“Here,” he muttered, crouching down to place the bowl of food in front of you. Upon further inspection, you realized it was porridge. Bland and colorless.

You had no appetite after the horrors you’d seen. The sight of food had your stomach twisting, filling with rotten bile that begged to escape you and paint the floor beneath you.

Brimming with rage and seethe, you did the first thing that came to mind. Your hands picked up the bowl, carefully guiding it up to your mouth in attempts to seem starved. Gaz watched carefully, face set in firm lines that bristled a resentful itch inside of you.

With a turn of your hands, you tossed the porridge directly at Gaz, coating him in the piping liquid, chunks of vegetable that had been carelessly tossed in for flavor slipping down his front. His shirt and trousers were drenched, staining with the lifeless meal.

His face morphed into one of surprise before quickly shifting course. Instead, he was angry, eyebrows pulling taut, scowl curling on his lips. His eyes darkened impossibly more, filling the warm pupils with a menacing black.

“You fuckin’ wench,” he hissed, standing from his crouch to angrily swipe at the food that littered his clothing. It fell to the floor in a mushy mess right in front of you. Due to his aggression, a few stray chunks splattered back on to you in retaliation.

Realizing what you’d done, you tensed up, shuffling back from your place on the floor until your back hit the splintering walls of the ship. Gaz let out a roaring groan in irritation, sending a daggering glare your way.

“You are not hungry?” he asked tauntingly. He stepped out of the cell, slamming the door shut and locking it up tight. “Starve then. You will learn soon enough.”

Watching with widened eyes, he left the brig, grumbling angry curses to himself. When he shut the doors of your escape, you were met with sickening silence once again. The sound of waves taunted you, whispering insults in your ears for being such a stupid girl.

The pact you’d made with yourself was already in ruin. Befriending the pirates would be a difficult task if you couldn’t swallow down your enmity, and now you’d gone and made a foe.

Nobody returned to your cell for the rest of the day. It was punishment, that much you could figure out. Your stomach grumbled with desperate pleas, yet you could do nothing but wallow in your own acrimony for the remainder of the night.

When morning rose, you were awakened by the sound of the door once again. The light was blinding as it invaded the room, temporarily blocking your view of the person who’d stepped inside. When your eyes adjusted, you were faced with another pirate, the one who had held Mary down while you pleaded with him to release her.

Gaz stood beside him, arms crossed to appear larger. His face was unreadable, but you could feel the tease of resentment fluttering in his eyes.

“Not goin’ to toss yer breakfast on me, are ye?” the other snickered, eliciting a glare from Gaz. The pirate stepped forward, unlocking your cell and slipping inside. This time, he held the stale porridge while Gaz remained a pace behind him. “I know yer starvin’, so don’t be a prude. Eat up, aye?”

He set the bowl in front of you, just as Gaz had done. Remaining crouched in front of you, he made a gesture of his head towards the steaming meal, a toothy grin on his face.

You knew better than to feel relieved at the kindness. He was a pirate, just as the others, and he was cruel and unruly. Though, thinking back on your plan, his youthfulness may be a much easier one to befriend.

“Thank you,” you mumbled quietly with a respectful bow of your head. You reached for the bowl, gathering it in both hands. Gaz and the other studied you, seemingly waiting for a repeat of dirty laundry. It never came, though, and you lifted the wood spoon to your lips, swallowing down the first bite.

Just as you thought, it was bitter. How one could even make porridge bitter, you were unsure, but your stomach made no protest to the grainy oats. In fact, it was rather appealing, having been starved for two days.

“Take it ye like it, then?” the one pirate hummed, cocking his head at the display. “Get used to it, birdie. It’ll be yer meal for majority of yer time here.” He shot you another grin, resembling a mangy cat.

The reminder of your permanent stay was a difficult one, but your plan played over in your head. You wanted to go home, though it was no more, and you wanted your freedom back. Neither would be possible if you didn’t show kindness in return.

“What’s your name?” you questioned, making a poor attempt at conversation.

“Soap,” he introduced proudly. You didn’t mean to, but the name made you snort, triggering a light cough from the porridge you’d been in the middle of swallowing down.

“Soap is an… interesting name,” you grimaced. Soap didn’t seem to mind the back-handedness, only keeping that signature grin that was beginning to grow a bit hard on the eyes.

“Aye, got the name from bein’ a bit too rowdy. Price wanted to wash my mouth out.” His own words had him cackling, loud and boisterous in the cramped brig. Gaz had no reaction, opting for the hardened look that was practically piercing into you like thousands of knives. “What’s yer name, birdie? Got to learn who our new medic is.”

You wanted to remind him that you weren’t a medic. Not a professional one, anyway. You knew the bare minimum of proper medical etiquette and your medicines Ghost had told you to bring with were simply experimental mixtures. But you also knew that he wouldn’t listen nor care.

“The village called me dove,” you explained, swallowing down more porridge. It was warm in your mouth, coating your throat with gooey goodness. “Though, I don’t think it was much out of kindness.”

Soap hummed in acknowledgement, shooting a lopsided smile and a nod of his head. “Not quite a pirate name, dove, but it’ll do.”

“I’m not a pirate,” you defended with a frown.

“Ye are now,” he reckoned mindlessly, shrugging a lazy shoulder. Soap stood from his position, straightening up next to Gaz. “I’ll give ye some advice to be a part of this crew, dove. It’s not nice to throw porridge at a poor lad like Gaz.” Soap clapped Gaz on his shoulder, earning a scowl, which he ignored.

Your eyes shifted from Soap to Gaz, taking in the pure annoyance radiating off of him in waves. It was undeniable, practically filling the room’s atmosphere with black mist.

“I apologize,” you forced out, though that bitter part of you denied it. You wouldn’t feel sorry for these pirates. After all, they didn’t feel bad for the innocent lives they ruined.

Gaz’s nose twitched at your faux remorse, staring at you for a beat too long before turning away. He made no move to talk to you, but it wasn’t a blatant refusal of your apology. Perhaps he was just a tough nut to crack with a soft sweetness on the inside, even for a pirate.

The two men left you alone in the brig once again, only returning to give you meals as needed. It was terribly lonely the more the weeks went on with no move to release you from your cell. It was as if none of them trusted you, despite them being the ones to kidnap you. They burned down your home, slaughtered your people, and yet, wouldn’t allow you a chance to taste a sliver of freedom.

It was agonizing to wait, but you kept up your facade as much as you could, dripping with poisoned honey every time Gaz or Soap entered the brig with means to feed you.

Price or Ghost hadn’t made an entrance to see you. For the most part, you were grateful for it. In just the couple of weeks Soap and Gaz had been feeding you, they were warming up to you, slow and steady — Soap more than the other.

Gaz still had his reservations about you. He was reclusive, always standing on guard as if the shadows in the wall were prepared to attack at any given moment. It was better than before, where he had treated you like a burdening dog who he couldn’t rid himself of, but the progress was dwindling.

Soap was much more gracious. While he was obnoxious, he was much more welcoming company. You had no desire to truly befriend these pirates, but if any were to be the most tolerable, it was Soap.

Price and Ghost, though, were a mystery. Their absence made crucial falters in your meticulous plotting. You wanted out of the cell so you may roam the creaky decks of the ship, but the dream simply wouldn’t be possible without their trust.

It wasn’t until the fourth week of your imprisonment that the storyline had shifted. Rather than Soap bringing you your meal for the night, it was the Captain himself, standing tall and brute in front of your barred enclosure.

Unease rattled through your bones at his sudden appearance. You weren’t expecting him, nor were you prepared to face the very man who had slain your village with the help of his men.

He observed you like a lab rat, studying every movement like a variable in his experiment. It was prodding and exposing, leaving you sitting in your cell with a heavy lump in your throat.

“Soap tells me you’re warmin’ up to him,” he claimed, breaking the thick silence that smothered the air. He paced back and forth in front of your cell, eyes focused in on you. “Figured I’d properly introduce myself, seein’ as we’ll be spendin’ a lot of time together.”

You swallowed the rock in your throat, unmoving from your position on the floor. It was far from comfortable, but the cot was worn and dirty, so the floor became your only friend in the midst of all your dispair.

“I see,” you managed, clearing your throat. Price continued his relentless pacing, hands crossed behind his back in a formal manner. Ironic, really, considering his ruthless occupation.

“Dove, was it?” he asked. You nodded wearily. “A shame, really. Doves are lovely things, beautiful creatures made up of the purest white. Yet your village had called you it in ridicule. Or so I heard.”

Price was a man that spoke in riddles. He spouted conversation in the form of poetry, only tainting its beauty when angered. It was both unnerving and intriguing for a pirate. He wasn’t dirtied like you’d heard in childhood tales.

“I suppose they did,” you agreed with a small frown. The anxious pit in your stomach only grew, triggering alarm bells telling you that this man was an enigma. He wasn’t to be trusted.

“And why is that?” Price questioned. He ceased his pacing to face you properly, and you wished he’d return to it. His stature was that of a behemoth, overpowering and menacing, much like Ghost had been.

“Why did they call me dove?” you responded in confusion.

“Why did they ridicule you,” he corrected.

The statement made you pause. You hadn’t really thought about your townspeople dumbing you down to a mere crazy girl with too much ambition. You were the talk of the village within your age group as well as the occasional elder who tsked at you for never marrying.

The relationship between you and your people was one of complexity. While you loved them as your own, they battered you every chance they had. Hell, even Lucius himself had outed you to a group of pirates without care in the world. The very man who had spent countless months in attempts to make you a pretty village wife had sent you to your early grave to save his own ass.

“They thought I was different,” you explained woefully. “It is not normal for a woman to partake in medicine, let alone education. Doves are beautiful, yes, but they’re also adventurous. It is a dangerous conviction to be compared to as a woman.”

Price cocked his head to the side, filling the air with silence. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to explain yourself to a dingy villain such as him, but you feared that if you weren’t honest in your conversation, he’d be able to sniff out your deception from miles away.

“Who has told you it is not normal?” Price asked, and once again, he had stumped you.

“It is not a difficult thing to digest, Captain. Women do not involve themselves in ambition.”

“They quite do,” he retorted. You stared up at him through the bars, your own head cocking. You didn’t trust his word, but a shriveled piece of you was curious. “Sure, it is not acceptable in certain places, but it is quite popular.”

You blinked at him, before staring at the wooden floor, pondering.

You had been expecting the Captain to treat you with hostility, to throw nasty words your way with the excuse of being a pirate. That was what you had been told in adolescence, how dirty they could be, but he was calm.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Price said. He leaned forward to rest his forearms on the bars of your cell, standing over you with only that barrier separating you. “I am not a cruel man. You may think differently, and for that, I do not care. But I will say that I believe you will have a much better life upon my ship.”

His words were a mix of sweet venom being spat at you. While they could be perceived as kind, there was an underlying message, one you couldn’t decipher.

“You burned down my village and killed my people. You kidnapped me to be your medic on your ship,” you defended, unable to hold back the taste of lingering resentment.

You had nearly forgotten why you were there with Soap and Gaz visiting to shift your mind elsewhere. You almost dismissed your own plan of escape. Price had reminded you without realizing, and now, your heart felt heavy once again.

“Ah, yes. The people that willingly sacrificed their own in effort to save themselves,” Price mused mockingly. The words stung. “Yes, we took you against your will. I will admit that. But your people treated you far worse.”

“You do not know a thing, Captain,” you spat.

Price cocked his head once more, resting his forehead on the forearms that lay upon your cell. “Aye, I do not,” he admitted. “But I know a bird with clipped wings when I see one. Perhaps you’ll be grateful when you learn to accept things as they are.”

You wanted to retort, wanted to get the last word in, but he was right. You barely knew the Captain and yet, he had read you like a novel, flipping through your pages and memorizing them from one single look through.

It felt dehumanizing. He was cruel and vicious, as were his men. They were nowhere near saviors, yet he spoke to you as if he was. It sickened you to the core, but there was no denying his brutal honesty.

Price offered you a lazy smile before standing straight, arms falling to his sides. “I suggest gettin’ used to your new life. You’ve got no home to return to anyway.”

He retreated from your cell as if he hadn’t slapped you in the face with a dose of reality. His boots were heavy and aggravating as they trudged up the stairs towards the upper deck, where he promptly shut the door on you, leaving you alone once again.

Your escape plan was falling into shambles before it had even began to fester.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john price #john soap mactavish #cod #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #simon riley x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #poly 141 #poly 141 x reader #soap mactavish #kyle garrick #cod fanfic #pirate!141

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roosterforme · 9 months ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After Bradley finally breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything.

Warnings: Fluff, language, breakup angst

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley had his duffle bag open on his bed, tidy stacks of his uniform components, flight suits, and underwear lined up next to it. He had his checklist in front of him. He liked to be as organized as possible.

"Are you even listening to me? I thought we were going out to dinner."

He looked up from his partially packed toiletry bag into the annoyed eyes of Vanessa where she stood on the other side of the bed. He was seven months into this relationship, and sometimes he wondered why either of them still bothered. She knew his routine by now. She knew what his deployments were like, but she had absolutely no patience for any of it.

"Ness, I'm leaving in four days. I just need to focus on this for a few minutes so I know what I need to buy before Wednesday, and then we can go out and eat."

"It's already seven o'clock. I thought you'd have finished packing by now," she replied with a pout and a glare. "Every nice restaurant is going to have a long wait now, because I'm just going to go ahead and assume that you didn't make a reservation anywhere."

He took a deep breath and let it out before pressing his lips together. What he really wanted was to order something for delivery, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie and have the first round of hot, goodbye sex. But she'd never go for it now. Apparently he'd already fucked up for the night.

"No, I didn't make a reservation," he said calmly, and she rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. "I really don't even feel like going out. I'll be gone for months, stuck in a tiny bunk or a loud mess hall. I'd like to stay in tonight where it's quiet. Just me and you."

But she wasn't listening at all. "Let me see if Woodmere has any tables left," she muttered. "If not there, then I can try The Landmark." She looked as beautiful as she always did, but he couldn't even stand the sight of her right now.

"Ness. I want to stay in."

She groaned and looked him in the eye. "Of course you do. You always want to stay in. You always want to decompress or read a book. That's not healthy, you know that, right? I shouldn't have to force you out of your comfort zone all the time."

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. His job was demanding, both mentally and physically. He usually preferred quiet over loud, because his own thoughts started to buzz when she dragged him out all over the place. And now she was glaring at him again. "Are you even going to miss me?" he asked softly, afraid of the answer. "You haven't said so one time since I told you about this deployment."

She heaved a deep and annoyed sigh. "You're deployed so frequently, Bradley, it's like you're the government's bitch. And if the Navy is going to insist upon eating up taxpayer money, the least they could do is pay you more."

His skin started to crawl as she went off about his career like always, but he'd honestly had enough. He raised his voice louder and asked once again, "Are you even going to miss me?"

Vanessa scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course I'm going to miss you. What kind of question is that? I'll be bored every weekend, waiting for you to get back, like usual. I almost never go out when you're deployed."

Bradley's heart started to pound in a way that made his palms sweat and his stomach turn. "Jesus, Vanessa. I asked if you're going to miss me. Not miss going out every weekend."

When she hesitated for a beat, he reached out to brace his hand on his headboard. "Yes, Bradley. I am going to miss you. Okay? Happy?"

"Fuck, no. I'm not happy Vanessa." And that was the bottom line right there. The absolute truth. And it didn't hurt to say it, rather he immediately felt better. He knew he would miss the sporadic emails and the phone calls and the dirty pictures and the reunion sex. The upcoming weeks would be harder without those things to look forward to, but at least he'd come home to his own place where he could do what he wanted instead of what he was told. He wouldn't have to listen to her negativity. "I think we need to break up."

Her eyes went wide with shock. "Excuse me?"

Bradley let go of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "You heard me, Ness. This isn't working. For either of us."

"Don't call me Ness," she snapped, immediately turning toward his bedroom door. "You're not my boyfriend anymore." She paused briefly, just long enough to say, "Fuck you," and then she was gone.

He sat on the edge of his bed for a couple minutes, but it didn't take long to sort through his feelings. The immediate sense of calm that he felt had him convinced he'd done the right thing. There was no shared living space. There was no ring. There was no real commitment. Maybe he'd always known why that was the case.

So he packed up his bag and made a shopping list, and when his stomach started to growl, he ordered dinner for himself from his favorite restaurant. He didn't cry, and he didn't worry about having to do anything he didn't want to do.

------------------------

The first few weeks of his deployment were great. He spent a lot of time in the air, and he flirted a bit with some of the women who approached him in the gym on the aircraft carrier. He jerked off while he thought about whomever he fucking wanted to. He didn't spend very much time reflecting on his relationship with Vanessa other than to acknowledge that it wasn't much of a relationship at all. In the moments where he thought maybe he missed her, he realized he just missed the idea of having someone who cared about him.

He was about a month in when he realized the attractive woman who always touched his arm in the gym was actually married, and he was not all about that. He was also maybe kind of getting tired of masturbating which was a depressing thought. He was bored, and he was lonely, and other than randomly hooking up with someone, he figured his best bet was finding a book or something to read.

When he made his way to dinner, he heard everyone talking about the helicopter that had landed on deck less than an hour ago stacked full of containers of mail. There was a line of officers trailing down the hallway adjacent to the mess hall, everyone waiting patiently to pick up parcels from their loved ones. Since Bradley had basically nobody who would think to write to him, he made his way toward the food instead.

His tray was piled high with everything he could get his hands on, and when he looked for somewhere to sit, he had to deftly avoid that stacked lieutenant who had a husband at home. He found a table off in the corner and devoured his dinner alone. When he stood to drop off his empty dishes and tray, some petty officers entered the cavernous room to drop off unclaimed mail.

"Harper, Jonathan! Pauley, Vincent! Dixon, Jennifer! Sutter, Wesley! Bradshaw, Bradley!"

He was more than a little intrigued as he made his way up along with a handful of others, and then a white envelope and a small cardboard box were thrust into his hands. The envelope was addressed to him by name in familiar chicken scratch that made him smile. He shouldn't have counted Natasha out, especially when his birthday was in a few days.

He tore into the envelope as he made his way back to his bunk. It contained a very short letter along with a coupon for buy one get one free steak dinners at her favorite restaurant with a post-it stuck to the back.

This is your birthday present. Now when you take me out for my birthday when you get home, you only have to pay half as much. You're welcome.

He snorted as he unlocked his bunk door and tossed everything from Nat onto the small nightstand. And then he examined the box. It wasn't addressed to him. Not really. It was addressed to 'A Deployed US Naval Aviator' in tidy handwriting. Then he noticed the return address was from an elementary school in Mira Mesa, and his curiosity got the best of him.

Bradley sat on the edge of his bed and tore gently into the packaging to find the box was jam packed with items and overflowing with envelopes. He tipped the box, and everything went cascading out onto his narrow bed. There were a lot of snacks, and a pack of trail mix caught his eye, making his stomach growl.

"I just fed you," he muttered but ripped into the snack anyway, dumping half of it into his mouth in one go. He was eyeing the envelopes carefully, each one distinctly unique. Some had names written on them, and some had little doodles or pictures, but they definitely seemed to be from a class of kids who went to the school. He sifted through them until he found a slightly larger, more official looking envelope which once again said To: A Deployed US Naval Aviator.

He finished his snack, silently thanking the class of kids and their teacher, and then he opened the big envelope. He pulled out a typed up letter which was folded around a few photos that slid onto his lap. Then he started to read.

Dear United States Naval Aviator,

First of all, thank you for your service. Second, let us introduce ourselves. We are one of the fourth grade classes from Mira Mesa Elementary School, and we have been learning all about aviation for the last month or so. We have combined our science, math and social studies classes into one unit all about flying, and we have learned so much. We really wanted to share some of what we learned with you in the hopes that you might be able to help us learn even more!

Each student in the class has included a letter filled with information and some questions. If you have some free time and are inclined to do so, we would love to hear back from you. (No pressure!) There are plenty of thoughtful questions that my students would appreciate more information about. (Once again, only if you want to!) And I for one would love to give them the chance to show off what they learned to a professional. (I'm just a proud teacher!)

Thank you very much for indulging our curiosity thus far, and we hope to hear back from you. I'll include my email address just in case you have any questions or would prefer to reply that way. Otherwise you can send mail directly to the address for the school along with my name, and it will get to us. We hope we are about to dazzle you with our letters, and we wish you well on your deployment.

Sincerely,

The best fourth graders you will ever meet along with their teacher

Bradley was chuckling as he finished reading. Of course he would take the time to look at all of the notes from the kids and send back a response. It wasn't like he'd be tied up talking to Vanessa. This little project would keep him busy when he had nothing else to do, and besides, this was the kind of shit he would have thought was outlandishly cool when he was a fourth grader himself.

He read and reread the name and accompanying email address at the bottom of the page. This teacher sounded charming, and he'd only read three paragraphs from her. He flipped the page over to double check that she hadn't written anything more, already wishing she had. Then he picked up the photos that had landed on his thigh and started to flip through them.

First he saw a group of kids outside in the bright San Diego sunlight, lined up and throwing paper airplanes. Then he flipped to one where some of the kids were sitting at their desks building more elaborate planes out of pieces of foam. There was another photo of the class on some sort of field trip, but it was the last photo in the stack that had him sitting up a little taller and taking a closer look.

"Damn."

The kids were all lined up once again, wearing a rainbow of colors, some making silly faces. But his eyes caught on their teacher. On you. Smiling back at him from the photo like you had an amusing secret. Like you wanted to share it with him.

"Fucking gorgeous."

----------------------

And, we're off. Oh, he thinks we are cute. Oh, he is about to be charmed even more. Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone a little bit with this one, and thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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wholoveseggs · 6 months ago

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Pretender

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} Working in a brothel was never easy, but when a man claiming to be the prince comes to visit, it can be downright dangerous.

7.5k words - Warnings: smut, whore!reader, mild dubcon, oral sex m!receiving, face fucking, riding, ffm threesome, rough sex, mentions of rape, graphic violence, choking, gold cloaks, deception & Daemon being Daemon...

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡♡ Hey! If you don't want to be tagged in Daemon fics just let me know! He's a much different character than Elijah & I don't wish to waste your time ♡♡

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@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

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@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer

There were far worse fates than being a whore. If it meant that you were able to make it another day in this world, you were willing to do it. Even if that meant selling yourself for a few crowns.

It wasn't all bad, there were some who treated you with kindness and respect, others who didn't, and some who weren't even sure how to treat a woman. They were the ones you felt most sorry for, the ones who just wanted to feel a bit of kindness and were too afraid to go and get it from elsewhere. Or simply had nowhere else to turn.

Tonight was one of the quieter nights. Most of the men were either gone or asleep. You could hear the low murmurs of the few that were still awake, soft moans from the rooms next to you as they had their fun. The smell of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, it had become something you'd grown accustomed to over the years.

You were lounging around with the other girls, laughing and talking as the night dragged on, when you heard the sound of hooves against the dirt outside, and the creak of a cart.

One of the girls, named Lina, came stumbling in, she was extremely drunk, almost tripping over herself as she tried to regain her balance. Her dress was askew and her hair was messy.

This was a common occurrence for her these days, ever since her man had died she had thrown herself into a bottle, trying to forget. You couldn't blame her for it, she was in pain and she needed an escape, you just wished that her solution didn't cause such destruction.

She plopped down onto the floor next to you and laid her head in your lap. "You're always so warm and soft, just like a pillow" she giggled and rubbed her head into you, like a cat seeking comfort.

You softly ran your fingers through her hair, untangling the knots as best you could. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

"I feel great," she slurred. "Any work?"

"Not at the moment, no" you sighed.

"That's a shame," she said, looking up at you with big, sad eyes. "I'm low on coin,"

"We all are," said another of the girls, a pretty blonde girl by the name of Kari. She was less sympathetic to Lina's situation than you were.

"If you don't have coin, then leave. Don't stay here and take up our space," she snapped.

"Kari" you hissed, trying to get her to back off, but she ignored you.

"What? I'm right" she scoffed.

You were interrupted by a group of men entering the brothel, loud and obnoxious. They were all dressed in fine clothes, reeking of alcohol and crowns, just what you had been waiting for.

Lina was instantly on her feet, swaying a little but keeping her balance as she walked over to greet the newcomers.

"What can I help you with, my lords?" she asked, her voice a low purr as she batted her eyelashes.

Kari gave you a pointed look and went off to tend to another customer, leaving you alone to deal with the new arrivals.

They all looked like typical nobility. Clean-shaven and dressed in silk. You had a good eye for these sorts of things. It was easy to spot the difference between a merchant and a noble, and these men were definitely nobles.

They were also clearly drunk, slurring their words and stumbling around the place, laughing at everything.

Lina was already leading two of the men away, no doubt eager to earn a few coins and keep her drinking habits intact.

You turned your attention to the man standing to the side of the group. He was tall and slender, with fair skin and long blonde hair. His eyes were a piercing blue, like two pools of ice.

He smiled at you and stepped forward, extending a hand towards you. "Have you ever had a prince before?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You took his hand and returned his smile. "No, my lord, I can't say I have,"

You have heard many men claim to be one noble or another, sweet little lies they tell you as a way to seem important. It mattered very little to you, they were all the same when it came down to it.

Kari came sauntering back into the room, her dress slipping off her shoulder as she walked. She looked over at you and the blonde man and raised an eyebrow.

You smiled at her and leaned in closer to the man. "Kari, this one is a prince, isn't he handsome?"

Kari's eyes widened and she let out a small gasp, bowing dramatically, her dress slipping even further down her chest, revealing her cleavage.

"Prince Daemon Targaryen," he announced, his chest puffed out.

"I've never met a prince before," she said, her voice filled with awe. She was over doing it just a little, and you had to fight the urge to laugh at her performance.

"Oh, but I can change that," he replied, a smirk on his face.

Kari grinned and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his.

"I'm sure you can," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his side.

You felt a tingle run down your spine, he was quite handsome and you could see the appeal of bedding a prince, even if you didn't actually believe his claim.

"Why don't we all get comfortable," he said, his voice low and deep.

You and Kari exchanged glances, grinning at each other, rich men usually pay well.

The two of you led the prince up the stairs, his arm still wrapped around you, his hand resting on your hip. The three of you entered the room, the door slamming shut behind you. He wasted no time in grabbing hold of Kari and kissing her, his hands roaming her body.

You watched with fascination as the two of them kissed and touched each other, their bodies moving together. Without looking at you, he reached out and grabbed you, pulling you towards him and kissing you passionately.

"Double the pleasure, double the coin, my prince," Kari stated gently, breaking the kiss and stepping away from him. She was always keen on making the payment clear, before the fun could begin.

"Are you questioning my generosity?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kari shook her head. "No, of course not. I would never do such a thing,"

You nodded in agreement.

The man looked at the two of you, a slight smile on his face. "Do you think a prince cannot afford two whores?" he asked, his tone playful.

You smiled at him, "No, we know you can," and you hoped that you were right.

He grinned and kissed you again, a little more aggressive this time. He nipped at your bottom lip, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin.

"Kneel for your prince," he commanded, his voice firm.

You and Kari exchanged amused looks, then both kneeled before him. She began to untie the laces of his trousers while you looked up at him with innocent eyes, your tongue running across your bottom lip.

"What's it like? To ride a dragon," you asked him, genuinely curious.

"Like nothing else," he replied.

You could tell that he was getting impatient, his eyes darkening with lust. His hand ran through your hair, gripping it tightly and pulling your head back.

"Suck," he ordered, and you obeyed, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You slowly took more of him into your mouth, using your tongue to pleasure him.

"Gods, that feels amazing," he moaned, his hips bucking forward.

He was rough and demanding, but it was nothing you and Kari couldn't handle. You continued to suck and lick him, while she stroked him and kissed his thighs.

The two of you worked in tandem, bringing him to the edge and then pulling him back. You could feel him growing more and more frustrated, his hand gripping your hair tighter.

Finally, he could take it no longer, he grabbed Kari by the hair and pushed his cock all the way to the back of her throat. His hand pressed against the top of her head as he fucked her mouth hard.

She gagged and coughed, but still tried her best to please him. You could see her discomfort and you slowly stood up, kissing his neck and touching his chest, trying to calm him down.

After a few more moments, he released her, shoving her back. She fell back on the floor, coughing and sputtering.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes wild. Without a word, he pulled down your dress, revealing your naked form beneath. He was on you in an instant, pushing you down onto the bed and climbing on top of you, his hands on your throat.

Your head spun, and the room seemed to grow hazy as the pressure on your throat increased. He parted your legs with his knee and pressed himself inside you, groaning with pleasure as he buried his cock deep within you.

He was a wild man, taking you roughly, with no thought of your own comfort or pleasure. Grunting and growling like an animal as he claimed you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as his hand tightened around your throat.

"How does it feel to fuck a dragon?" he asked, his face mere inches from yours. You couldn't reply, his hand still holding your windpipe in a vice-like grip. His eyes were cold and calculating, the passion of a moment ago now gone.

You scratched at his wrists, but he just laughed, slamming into you with a savage ferocity. He was like a beast, taking you for all you were worth.

When men were rough like this, a part of you would disappear inside yourself. You would no longer feel as if it was you who were being manhandled, the parts of your body no longer connected to your mind.

You could smell his sweat, feel his hands on you, hear the low rumbles of his voice, but you were no longer here. Your body was simply an object, a vessel, and your mind had retreated somewhere far away, watching from the shadows.

Kari had composed herself enough to join the two of you on the bed. She climbed behind you, running her hands along your body. You were just lying there, allowing yourself to be used, but Kari's touch was a small comfort.

He slammed into a few more times before climbing off of you and grabbing Kari, flipping her on her stomach, pinning her down. He wasted no time entering her, thrusting in and out like an animal, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room.

You lay there, listening to the sounds of the two of them, trying to make sense of things. He didn't last long, men like this rarely did. After a few minutes, he let out a strangled groan and pulled out, his seed spilling out onto her back.

He rolled off of her, panting and laughing to himself, a satisfied grin on his face. She sat up and brushed some hair from her sweat-soaked forehead, looking over at you.

She crawled towards you and wrapped her arms around you, kissing your cheek gently. Her hand intertwining with yours. The two of you had certainly experienced worse customers than him. He didn't appear unhappy with what you did. You were fortunate in that sense.

"I shall take you both on my dragon, fuck you on his back while we fly," he said, a wicked grin on his face.

You had no idea how one would manage to do such a thing, but you were certain he was just trying to impress you.

"That would be something," Kari replied, a smile on her lips.

He was sitting there, his hand lazily stroking his cock as he watched the two of you. "Kiss," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You and Kari exchanged a look, then leaned in and kissed each other, the feeling of her soft lips against yours making your heart skip a beat.

He was watching the two of you with rapt attention, his eyes dark and hungry. He reached out and pulled you away from her, his lips crashing down onto yours. His hands roamed your body, his touch rough and demanding.

"That's a good girl," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

He grabbed a tankard of wine from the nightstand, drinking it down and tossing it aside. You observed the muscles on his back, the way they flexed in the dim light, you could see long scars down his back. They looked like the marks caused by a whip, you knew the scars well, having seen them on many of the men and women in the brothel.

"My Prince, forgive me, but those scars, where did they come from?" you asked, unable to contain your curiosity.

He flinched at your question, not looking at you. "Tourneys," he said sharply, bending over and grabbing his shirt from the floor.

You didn't press the issue, he clearly didn't want to talk about it.

He pulled his shirt on, the silk material stretching over his muscular frame. Then he collapsed onto the bed, pulling you down with him, wrapping his arm around you.

You looked at him and saw a haunted look in his eyes, the same look that many of the others in the brothel had. He was running from something, or someone.

"Call me your prince and tell me you love me," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

"Of course, my prince," you replied, and the words felt hollow.

"I love you my prince," Kari purred, cuddling up to him.

"Yes, I know you do," he said, his eyes glazing over.

The two of you stayed with the prince all night, his talk turning into ramblings, bragging about dragon riding, flying in the clouds, great battles and tourneys he had won. He talked of nothing but how good he had it, how great he is, of all the wonderful things he owned.

While it was not the worst experience you'd had, it wasn't a pleasant one either. Kari kept encouraging him to keep bragging, praising him and showering him with compliments. All you wanted was to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, but his obnoxious voice made it nearly impossible.

By the time the sun came up, he was fast asleep. His snoring so loud you were sure he was going to wake up the rest of the brothel.

You and Kari were counting the coin he had given you, making sure it was all there. It wasn't as much as you were expecting, considering his claims of royalty. But you'd make do, it'd tide you over for a while. You would certainly sleep comfortably tonight.

Although he was Prince Daemon, you didn't want to fuck him again, not for any amount of coin. If he returned to visit, you would simply make yourself scarce.

Much to your disappointment the prince had turned into a regular at the brothel. At least once a week he would return, bringing with him a small fortune and a lot of drink.

Lina was very pleased, she was the one he favored most of all. And as long as she was getting her coins, she was happy. You supposed she was too numb from drink to feel the pain or humiliation of his treatment.

You and Kari, on the other hand, were less enthusiastic about the prince's presence. Always trying your best to avoid him, finding ways to keep yourselves occupied while he was there.

But you had a feeling that he knew what the two of you were doing, and that you were avoiding him. He didn't seem upset by it, but there was a look in his eye that made you nervous.

He was in the main room tonight, with Lina in his lap, the two of them drunkenly talking about who knows what. But his eyes were on you, and it made your skin crawl.

You quickly got up and looked for a place to hide, not wanting to be caught in his sights. He was a dangerous man, you could sense it, and you had no interest in being alone with him.

You made your way through the halls, between tapestries of silk and dimly lit rooms, keeping your head down. It was almost too easy to disappear here, to find the dark corners and hide away from the world.

You weren't looking where you were going, and you found yourself crashing into someone.

"Sorry, sorry," you muttered, moving to continue walking.

You felt a hand grip your arm, and you looked up at a man dressed in dark clothing, a hood covering his face. There was an air of danger around him, the way he held himself was confident and commanding.

He looked you over, his gaze roaming over your body. From what you could see of his face, he was handsome, with a strong jawline and sharp features. His hair was blonde, resting on his shoulders.

"No need to apologize, little dove," he said, his voice deep and rich.

His hand slid down your arm, his fingers brushing against yours. "Come, let's have a drink," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded, grateful for any excuse to get away from the prince. You could also do with some extra coin, and this man seemed willing to pay.

He followed you to one of the private rooms, the curtains hanging around the bed were a soft blue, the room dimly lit by candles.

He gently leaned his sword against the wall, his fingers tracing over the hilt. It had an odd looking pommel, the metalwork intricate, the hilt the shape of a gold dragon.

He turned and sat on the bed, his hood falling down, revealing his face.

He was handsome, his blonde hair tumbling over his shoulders, his eyes sharp and bright. He was tall and lean, with a muscular build.

"So, what brings you to a place like this?" you asked, standing in front of him.

"Curiosity," he replied, reaching out and pulling you into his lap.

You gasped, your face inches from his. He smirked, his fingers wrapping around the silk ribbon around your waist, untying it. The thin dress fell open, revealing your chest.

"You are a pretty thing," he whispered, his eyes raking over your body.

You blushed, your heart beating faster. You were used to men commenting on your looks, but something about the way he said it made you feel warm.

"I bet you tell all the girls that," you teased, your hand reaching out and resting on his chest.

"I bet you pretend to enjoy it," he countered.

"And if I do?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck.

"I'll know the difference," he said, leaning in, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"Is that so?" you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his other hand coming up and resting on your lower back. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours.

He was surprisingly gentle, his lips soft, his hands caressing your body. He kissed you like a lover, not like a man who was paying for a whore.

You melted into his touch, your hands moving up and tangling in his hair. He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

You knew the brothel had men of all shapes and sizes, some kinder, others rougher, but he was a different breed altogether. You were enjoying yourself in a way you never had before.

"See? You're not pretending,"he whispered against your lips.

You laughed softly, your eyes fluttering open, looking into his. He was staring at you with such intensity, it made your heart skip a beat.

He smiled at you, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. You could feel the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms around you.

"What kind of men do you usually entertain?" he asked, his lips moving to your neck.

"All kinds," you replied, letting him undress you, the silk pooling at your waist. "From beggars to princes," you said.

"Princes, hmm? I suppose a prince would have more coin than most," he said, gently cupping your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your nipples.

"Some," you replied, trying to keep your breathing steady. “The prince does come here often. Although he is not the most agreeable of men," you explained.

"You know a lot about the prince?" he asked, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear.

"Indeed, he told me he would show me his dragon," you said, smiling, tracing your finger down his chest, playing with the hem of his shirt. "Caraxes, is it's name," you added, taking hold of his shirt and pulling it off.

"Oh? That's an interesting promise," he replied, his lips pressing kisses along your shoulder, his teeth nipping at the soft skin.

"He said I could ride it too," you said, feeling his lips curve into a smile against your skin.

"I'm sure you would be more than capable," he breathed, his nose brushing over the curve of your neck. "Perhaps you can practice on me," he murmured.

You giggled, a warmth blooming between your legs. He was handsome and charming, his touch gentle, he knew what he was doing. His hands moved over your skin, leaving a trail of heat wherever they went.

You shifted on his lap, feeling his arousal pressing against you. "Is that so?" you asked, your lips ghosting over his.

"Mmm," he groaned, his eyes darkening, his lips claiming yours.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you close. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue, his kiss full of passion and desire. Your hands went to his breeches, unlacing them and pulling out his cock.

You stroked him, feeling the velvety skin beneath your fingers. He groaned, his lips breaking away from yours.

"If I were to ride you, I'm not sure I would be able to walk away afterwards," you whispered, looking down at him.

"Maybe that's my plan," he said, as his hand slipped between your legs.

You gasped, the pleasure rippling through your body. You had a feeling this was going to be the best coin you had ever earned. It was always a nice treat when you could be with a man that you actually enjoyed touching.

"You're bigger than most of the other men I've had," you purred, running your hand up and down his length.

"I bet you say that to all the men," he teased, his fingers dipping into your cunt, feeling the wetness there.

"I'll say whatever you want me to," you said, kissing his neck, his jawline.

"Such a sweet little liar," he said, his hand cupping your cheek, tilting your head up.

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his. They were a deep blue, almost purple. There was a gentleness to them, but also a fire.

"Am I bigger than the prince?" he asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Would it be treason to say yes?" you whispered, your teeth grazing his earlobe.

"I won't tell him," he said, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

You smiled into the kiss and slowly rocked your hips, rubbing your slit against the underside of his cock. He groaned, his hands gripping your waist, his thumbs brushing over your hip bones.

You pulled away from the kiss, sitting up slightly and lining his cock up with your pussy. You sank down onto him, keeping your eyes locked with his.

You began to ride him, slowly at first, then you increased the pace. He let out a low groan and his hands squeezed your ass, helping you bounce on his cock.

You leaned down, capturing his lips in another passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

You pulled away from the kiss and rested your forehead against his.

"Fuck," he hissed, his fingers digging into your thighs.

You let out a breathless laugh and began to ride him faster, grinding down onto his cock. You could feel his length pulsing inside of you, his breath hot against your neck.

He suddenly flipped you into your back, your hair splayed out across the pillows. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs back, sinking his cock inside you once more.

You moaned, feeling him pound into you. He leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, his tongue invading your mouth. Your hands went to his arms, they were made of pure muscle, the corded veins bulging under his pale skin.

His hips started to falter, a sure sign he was close to his release. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a low and desperate groan. You could feel his cock throb as his seed filled you.

"I can see why the prince likes you," he said, a small smile on his face as he rolled off of you.

You chuckled, moving to cuddle up next to him.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" you asked, nuzzling into his chest.

"The way you fuck," he said, his lips curling up into a smirk. "It's truly fit for royalty,"

You giggled and buried your face into his chest, the smell of his sweat mixed with sex intoxicating.

"You are a far better lover than him, perhaps living up in a castle all his life has spoiled him," you said, tracing patterns on his chest.

He smiled, his arm wrapping around your waist, his thumb rubbing circles over your skin.

"I don't even know your name," you whispered, your hand reaching up and stroking his cheek.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" he asked, his voice low and soft.

You watched him, wondering why a man would pay for a whore when he could easily get a woman willing. But then again, you knew the type of men who came to a place like this, perhaps he was married, or didn't have time for courtship.

He sat up and poured himself a cup of wine, the dark liquid spilling into the glass. He took a sip, then handed it to you.

"Thank you," you said, sitting up and taking a drink, the taste of wine sweet on your lips.

He leaned in and kissed you passionately. You hummed softly and cupped his cheek, his stubble scratching your palm.

He moved off the bed and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head. He picked up his sword, strapping the sheath to his belt.

You laid back, propping yourself up by your elbows as you watched him dress. He looked at you, a smirk on his face.

"You look lovely like that," he said, his voice a low purr.

You nodded in thanks, giving him a gentle smile and watched him pull out his coin purse.

"Keep the change," he said, tossing the bag onto the bed.

"Thank you, ser," you said, watching him walk out the door.

"Ser," he chuckled. "I am no ser," he said, looking back at you one last time before shutting the door.

The following evening was a busy one, you had spent most of the night serving drinks, the men rowdy and full of ale.

The drunker they got, the more coin they would spend, but that also came with its risks. Some of the men would become violent, the women in the brothel would often have bruises, sometimes it would be a black eye or busted lip.

You had gotten good at handling the rowdy customers, a few sweet words and a soft touch was enough to keep most men docile.

You hadn't seen Lina since yesterday, which was odd, usually she was down here, drinking and entertaining the men.

"Have you seen Lina?" You asked Kari, who was collecting a number of empty tankards.

"She's probably passed out in some room, drunker than a sailor," Kari replied, shaking her head.

You frowned, that didn't seem right. Lina had a habit of drinking, but never enough to not show up for work.

Kari could see the concern on your face and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Don't worry about her, she'll be fine," she said, giving you a reassuring smile.

"What if Prince Daemon comes in? I do not wish to deal with him," you whispered.

"Then don't," she said, pouring herself a glass of wine.

"I cannot refuse him, he would make my life a living hell," you sighed.

"Then you best stay out of his way," Kari said, patting your shoulder.

You nodded, but knew that was easier said than done. If he showed up tonight, you were sure to run into him.

You continued to serve drinks, doing your best to avoid the more aggressive customers. You felt a hand grip your wrist, and turned to see one of the regulars.

"Come sit on my lap pretty girl," the man said, tugging on your wrist.

You smiled sweetly and sat down on his lap, resting your arm on his shoulder.

"How have you been, my love?" you asked, batting your lashes.

"Better now that you're here," he said, his hand resting on your knee, his fingers rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh.

"That's sweet," you said, trying not to flinch at his touch.

You leaned in and whispered into his ear, "What can I do for you tonight?"

He smirked, his hand sliding further up your thigh, he looked over your shoulder and paused. His eyes were fixed on something behind you, his expression one of shock and disgust.

You turned to see Lina stumbling through the main room, her hair a mess, her clothes torn, blood trickling down from a wound on her head.

She was muttering incoherently, her eyes wild and unfocused. She stopped in the middle of the room, looking around, a terrified expression on her face.

"Lina?" You immediately got off the man's lap and rushed to her side, placing your hand on her shoulder.

She screamed, slapping your hand away and staggering back. Her eyes were wide, her breathing heavy, she was looking at you as if you were a stranger.

"Lina, it's me," you said, trying to calm her.

She shook her head, backing away, her eyes darting around the room.

"You're alright," you said, stepping towards her.

She raised her hands in front of her, as if trying to shield herself from something. You could see the bruises on her wrists and her hands were trembling.

You reached out to her, but she flinched, moving away from you. She backed into a table, knocking over a tray of drinks.

The noise drew the attention of the patrons, everyone was staring at her, murmuring to each other.

You grabbed her arm, gently leading her to the stairs. She let you lead her, her body tense, her breathing rapid.

You opened the door to her room and led her inside. You could see the dried blood and cum on her thighs, and the tears in her clothes.

"What happened to you, Lina?" you asked, but she remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor.

You went to the washbasin and dampened a cloth, sitting next to her on the bed. You began to clean the dried blood from her face, gently wiping the cloth over her bruised skin.

"You are safe now," you said, trying to soothe her.

"It was him," she suddenly said, her voice quiet and strained.

"Him who?" you asked, dipping the cloth back into the water, the blood turning it pink.

"Prince Daemon," she said, her voice cracking.

Your eyes widened, the cloth slipping from your fingers and landing in the basin with a wet splash.

"Daemon did this to you?" you asked, a pit of anger forming in your stomach.

Lina nodded, tears streaming down her face, her body shaking. "You mustn't tell anyone, he will kill me," she cried.

"Lina, I...," you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

You wrapped your arms around her and held her close, letting her cry into your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice breaking.

She pulled away, her eyes red and puffy, her lips quivering.

You felt your chest tighten, a wave of rage and despair washing over you. Daemon was a vile, evil man, and the fact that he had hurt Lina, filled you with an overwhelming anger.

You clenched your fists, feeling your nails dig into your palms, a stinging pain spreading over your skin.

"I... I lost all my coin...He took it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You wondered why a prince would bother stealing coins from a common whore, surely he had enough coin of his own.

"You can have whatever I earn tonight," you said, your tone serious.

"You don't have to do that," she said, shaking her head.

"Of course I do, you would do it for me," you said, gently cupping her cheek.

She nodded, her eyes glistening with fresh tears.

"Stay here, get some rest," you said, helping her lay down.

She pulled the blanket up to her chin, curling up into a ball, her body still trembling. You left the room, closing the door quietly behind you.

You walked back down to the main room, a burning rage coursing through your veins. You spotted Daemon, sitting at a table, drinking wine and laughing with a group of men.

You wanted to confront him, to pour hot tar over his head and watch him scream and writhe in pain. You looked around the room for a weapon, anything you could use to inflict harm upon him.

Your eyes landed on a serving tray, you picked it up, the metal cool against your palm. You were about to do something rash, something you couldn't come back from, when the man from last night caught your attention.

He was sitting at a table by himself, nursing a drink. He was wearing the same leathers as last night, and his sword was strapped to his hip.

He looked up, as if he could feel your gaze on him, and gave you a small smile. He gestured for you to come over.

You placed the tray back on the table, and walked over to him. You needed the coin for Lina, and he felt nice and smelled good, it would be a pleasant distraction.

"Back so soon?" you asked, swallowing your rage and fear, turning it to soft words and flirty touches.

You sat down on his lap, wrapping your arm around his shoulders, kissing his cheek and smiling sweetly.

"I missed you," he said, his hand going to your waist.

"Liar," you whispered, a playful smirk on your lips.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He looked around the room then back to you, his gaze roaming over your body.

"Shall we?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Yes," you replied, sliding off his lap and taking his hand.

He followed you to the stairs, his hand on the small of your back. You glanced over your shoulder at Daemon, a scowl on your face as you walked away from the opportunity to harm him.

You quickly led the man to your room, shutting the door and leaning against it, letting out a sigh.

"Are you alright?" He asked, setting his sword down and untying his shirt.

"Fine," you said, watching him undress.

His chest was pale and well muscled, his body lean and strong. He looked up at you, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Lying once again," he said, unbuckling his belt.

"My friend was attacked," you said, walking over to him, running your hands over his bare chest.

"I am sorry to hear that," he said, his gaze focused on you, his hands reaching up to cup your face.

"She was beaten and raped by Prince Daemon," you said, leaning into his touch, his calloused palms rough against your cheeks.

He stiffened at that, but just for a moment, before untying your dress and letting it pool at your feet.

"You shouldn't say things like that," he said, his hands gripping your ass and pulling you closer.

"Why? It's the truth," You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your naked body against his.

"It can get you killed," he said, his voice low and his breath hot against your ear.

You shivered, his words sending a chill down your spine. "I do not care, he deserves to die," you hissed, nipping at his bottom lip.

He smiled and lifted you up, carrying you to the bed and laying you down. His lips were soft against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth.

"Tell me, do you always have such violent thoughts?" He asked, his hands roaming over your body.

He gripped your hips and pulled you underneath him, his erection pressed against your pussy.

"When men like him exist? Yes," you replied, moaning softly as he ground his hips against yours.

"And what would you do, if you had the power?" He asked, his fingers ghosting over your clit, making you moan.

"I would cut him open, and feed him his own guts," you replied, arching your back, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. "Or perhaps burn him alive," you added, a dark smile spreading across your lips.

He chuckled, a wicked grin on his face, his eyes flashing with desire.

"And what of me? What would you do to me?" He asked, his fingers slipping inside of you, moving slowly, his thumb circling your clit.

You kissed him, hard and fierce, nipping at his lip, a small bead of blood forming. You could taste it, sweet and coppery, the smell of iron filling your nose. He chuckled at your roughness, his fingers moving faster.

"You've not wronged me, yet," you moaned against his lips, your hands going to his cock, the speed of your strokes matching his.

"Yet?" He chuckled, a low and seductive sound.

"There is time," you teased, pushing him off you and onto his back.

You straddled him, lowering yourself onto his cock, moaning as you felt him stretch you. He gripped your hips, guiding you as you began to ride him, his eyes watching you intently.

You arched your back, rolling your hips, grinding against him, your hands on his chest. You could feel him hitting that spot inside of you, making you moan and pant.

He sat up, his hands gripping your ass, his lips finding yours, a soft and passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close, his warmth enveloping you.

"Harder," you pleaded, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

He obliged, his grip tightening, his hips thrusting harder, deeper, filling you completely. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your cries of pleasure, your body tensing as you came.

He grunted, his cock throbbing inside of you, his hot seed spilling into you. You held each other close, panting and sweating, the room silent save for your labored breaths.

He captured your lips, a soft and gentle kiss, his fingers stroking your cheek. You pulled away, resting your forehead against his, a contented sigh escaping your lips.

"Is he here now? This prince," he asked, a bitter inflection to his tone.

"Yes," you replied, running your hands through his hair.

"Will you point him out to me?" He asked, his grip on your hips tightening.

You looked at him, a curious expression on your face. "Why?"

"Just curious," he replied, his fingers tracing circles on your lower back.

You looked into his eyes, a strange fire had crept into his gaze. You could feel a change in the air, the tension thick and heavy, the room seeming to grow darker.

"Okay," you said softly, a hint of trepidation in your voice.

"Good," he said, a sly smile spreading across his lips.

He helped you off his lap, standing and gathering his clothes, pulling his trousers and shirt back on.

You watched him, the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, his eyes focused and determined. He seemed to be lost in thought, his gaze distant, as if he was planning something.

"Who are you?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't respond, just held out his hand for you. You took it, and let him help you off the bed, your fingers intertwined.

You descended the stairs, the tavern full and bustling, the air thick with the scent of sweat and ale. You led him towards the corner where the prince was, his table surrounded by a group of men.

"Them," you said, pointing to the prince and his entourage.

He nodded, and pulled you close, kissing your cheek and placing a large bag of crowns in your hand.

"For you and your friend," he whispered, before releasing you and disappearing into the crowd.

You stared after him, confused and intrigued. You didn't know what was going on, or what he was planning, but you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement.

You went over to Kari who was in the lap of the regular from earlier, her hands wandering over his broad chest.

"Where did you go?" She asked, glancing at you, a questioning look in her eyes.

"Upstairs, with the man from last night," you replied, showing her the coins.

She grinned, her eyes wide. "Look at you, making the big coin," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Suddenly there was a loud crash, the sound of breaking glass. You turned to see the prince on the ground, his table overturned, a shattered bottle of wine next to him. The men he was with nowhere to be seen.

A number of gold cloaks had come storming in, and were surrounding the table, their swords drawn.

You watched the man you had just been with appear behind them, making his way through the gold cloaks, they parted for him without question.

The prince looked up at him, his eyes wide with fear, his body trembling.

"What are you doing? I'm the prince! Prince Daemon Targaryen!" He stammered, trying to back away.

The man laughed, and looked around at the gold cloaks, who were smiling and laughing with him.

"Funny," he said, looking down at the prince. "I could have sworn that was me."

The man who claimed to be the prince looked horrified, his eyes wide with shock.

"That's right, your grace," the man said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've been caught," he continued, the smirk turning into a sadistic grin.

You watched in horror and amazement as the pretender prince tried to scramble away, only to be stopped by a sword being plunged into his stomach.

He let out a gurgled cry, his blood spraying out onto the floor, a look of pure terror on his face. You and Kari screamed and looked away, covering your mouths in shock.

There was a horrible, visceral wet sound as the real prince Daemon cut open the pretender's stomach, and pulled out his innards, feeding them to him.

The room was silent, save for the sound of the dying pretender, gagging and wailing, his blood pooling around him.

"Let this be a lesson to all those who would dare to impersonate a prince of the realm," Daemon said, his voice booming across the tavern. "All pretenders shall meet the same fate."

The pretender had fallen silent, his body lying in a pool of his own blood and guts. Daemon wiped his hands and sword on the pretender's clothes, and turned to the gold cloaks.

"Clean this up, and dispose of the body," he said, his tone commanding.

The gold cloaks bowed, and began to drag the pretender's body from the tavern. The real prince looked around the room, his eyes landing on you.

You immediately looked to the floor, bowing before him, your heart pounding. You couldn't believe what had just happened, that the prince was a pretender and that the real Daemon had just been in your bed.

He walked over to you, and you kept your gaze down, not daring to look at him. You felt his hand under your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I'll be sure to burn him too," he said, a small smile on his lips.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat. He smiled and released you, turning and walking away.

Everyone was in a state of shocked silence, people staring in awe and disbelief. Kari looked at you, her eyes wide and her face pale.

"What just happened?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I... I don't know," you replied, your own voice shaking.

It was a lesson, one you never forgot. That even among whores, the truth would always find its way to the surface. And for that, there was no mercy.

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