#i know it's march stop booing me

[venustrape-arch]

@crownslip [ nick ] | cont.

it's a good day to love love ! just like any other day, really, but today it's especially socially acceptable for her to wear the heart antennae headband & go nuts with the pink & red frostings. even more so since she actually has someone to spend the day with. she'd spent the morning baking, making sure the cupcakes are done by the time nick decides to roll out of bed just so she can surprise him. granted, she knows that her boyfriend is not a big fan of yet another commercialized holiday, but he is a fan of her baked goods – she can't go wrong with cupcakes. & if she takes the time to get extra cute with them, no one can stop her.

" you bet'cha ! there were more, but the guys grabbed one each on their way out. " definitely a tax for letting them have the place all to themselves. she laughs a little at his reassurance, adjusting her headband in place before she finds herself in his arms, stealing one more kiss than given. " any time, you goober. i love you, too. " her heart flutters no matter how many times she hears him say it. this is all the type of behavior she often dreams their future selves will turn into a habit long after the honeymoon phase is over. soft gasp & wide eyes follow his request. " you made plans ! " oh, he's good. " nick miller, are you ending your feud with valentine's day for me ? "

[melon-fodder]

-> KINKTOBER MASTERLIST <-

♡ WARNINGS: reader has a pussy and tits, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, demeaning pet names (doll, sweetheart, bitch), outdoor sex, forced proximity, toji is insufferably hot, kinda dub-con

♡ WORD COUNT: 3.5k

♡ NOTE: was so hoping I would get this one done and I did, so ha! For anyone who has been brought here by this piece, please know I do not regularly post JJK, so sorry! Enjoy reading~

This cabin is a joke. Unliveable. He shouldn’t be in a shithole like this. Toji comes from money. He’s used to living in luxury–penthouses with big screens and full bars, king-sized beds with sheets made from Egyptian cotton.

So the goddamn cot in this fucking Lincoln Logs-ass shack is frankly insulting, and if he wasn’t in hiding, he would march right into his pretentious boss’ office and give him a piece of his mind and maybe the barrel of his gun.

The only good thing about Toji’s current predicament is that he’s not alone. You are also with him, two assassins laying low in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Of course, he may as well be all by himself; it’s not as if you’re actually paying him any attention.

You’re pissed at him, acting like a little bitch because he may have almost botched a job the two of you were on. So what? The guy is still dead. Riddled with a few too many bullets, sure, but that’s neither here nor there.

At least Toji still gets to ogle you, watch you shuffle around the cabin in leggings and loose sweatshirts. No bra, either. Yeah, he’s seen the way your nipples peek out from under the material. Fucking tease. Just as tempting as the way spandex hugs your ass and, in some cases when Toji is lucky, perfectly outlines what he knows must be the prettiest little pussy.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you bite out, glaring at him from over your mug of steaming tea.

Toji smirks, spread out on the threadbare couch while you stand in the shitty kitchen about six feet away from him. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, doll.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’ve been watching me like I’m your next target. I’m getting tired of it.”

“Well, boo-fucking-hoo,” he sneers. “There’s nothing better to do in this pile of shit. May as well enjoy the view.”

You set your cup down too forcefully, liquid sloshing out from the side, then stomp over to him, leaning into his space in an oh-so tantalizing way. You’re putting yourself in a real precarious position, he thinks, smart enough to keep his mouth shut as you fume.

“You even think about putting your hands on me, and I swear I’ll turn you into a fucking Ken doll.”

Toji grins sideways. “That mean you’ll touch it?”

The force of your slap is a little jarring, he has to admit, but not at all surprising. You’ve been riled up since the two of you arrived days ago, and Toji is not doing anything to help you relax on your little getaway. The complete opposite, actually. Truthfully, he’s a little impressed that it’s taken you this long to hit him.

But, you made the first move (he loves that in a woman), so he has no choice but to retaliate, swiftly pulling you into his lap, unashamed of his now half-hard dick.

“Jesus Christ, you’re sick,” you yell, struggling in his grip, rubbing your plump little ass all over his cock. “Let go of me!”

“Keep squirmin’ like that, and I’m gonna make a mess in my pants, babygirl.”

Unlikely–he’s not some teenager who’ll cum at a little grinding–but the way your face morphs with disgust is too good. “Would you clean it up for me if I asked nicely?” he teases further, grunts when your heel comes down hard against his shin.

His grip loosens enough for you to escape his hold, and Toji mumbles a dejected, “tease,” as you shoot to the other side of the very small room.

“I will kill you right fucking here if you ever do that again,” you grit through your teeth, hands shaking where they’re balled into fists.

Toji shrugs, annoyed, unsatisfied, and throbbing in the confines of his sweats. “Try it. I’ll have you pinned faster than you can even reach your gun.”

You huff, knowing damn well he’s right. You’re good at killing; he won’t deny that.

He’s just better.

~

Toji starts playing with you more after that, seeing how many of your buttons he can press without actually facing your promised wrath.

It’s the way he stares at you, casually brushing up against you in seemingly innocent ways. He walks around shirtless, making it impossible for you to not look at him.

Really, he just takes up as much room as he possibly can, ensures that you don’t get a moment’s peace. It’s obviously affecting you. He watches you get more and more restless as the days go by. You’re both bored out of your minds with only a few channels on the fucking box television to keep you entertained.

There is literally nothing to do but sleep and fuck. Toji’s been doing a lot of both (though, he wishes it was your pussy he was fucking and not his fist in the shower).

You, however, choose walking over sex, going on long strolls around the perimeter. You say that you’re being vigilant, but Toji knows you’re just trying to get away from him.

“You know, if you’d let me, I could help you relax,” he offers one day, trying to tune out the sound of your never ending footsteps as you pace back and forth. “Seriously, you’ve gotta simmer down.”

“You realize there are several bounties out on both of us right now, right? Like, does that not bother you?”

“Not really,” he replies. “People have been wanting to kill me since I was born. This ain’t nothin’ new.”

You stop pacing and look at him, eyebrows pinched in adorable confusion. “That’s… actually kinda sad.”

“Right?” Toji agrees, pouting dramatically as he tries, “wanna help me feel better about my sad, sordid life?”

He laughs when you groan, scrubbing your hands down your face. “You just won’t fucking quit, will you?”

“Not until I get to feel your pussy squeezin—”

You cut him off, “just stop!” voice all pitchy and grating. However, the next thing out of your mouth is like music to Toji’s ears: “if I let you fuck me, will you get off my back about it?”

He lifts an eyebrow, ignoring the way his cock twitches, then lies through his teeth, “absolutely,” because he already knows that once he’s had you, he’s gonna want you over and over and over again.

Sucking your teeth, you cross your arms over your chest and grumble, “fine,” as your mouth twists downward. “But later. For now I need to be… not around you.”

“Whatever you gotta do to get ready, sweetheart. You know where to find me.”

Except Toji doesn’t stay still for long. He waits for just a few minutes, long enough for you to let your guard down. Long enough for you to get a head start. And then takes off in the same general direction that you did.

You’re nowhere in his line of sight, but you’re easy to follow especially since you don’t actually know you’re being tracked. Your boots leave trails in the brown, fallen leaves, steps echoing off every branch that surrounds you.

A chilly breeze whistles through the trees, but Toji is too hot to really feel it. You may be covered up head to toe in a flannel and tights, but you won’t be for long. Soon, he’ll strip you down, and by that time, you’ll be thankful for the wind.

You move slowly, absentmindedly, look lighter now that you think you’re alone. Your shoulders aren’t as tense, and your fingers move as if you’re rehearsing a song. Different from the high-strung little bitch he’s had to live with for the past week.

Too busy watching you, Toji isn't focused on the ground beneath his feet. The sound of a twig snapping may as well be a gunshot, and you drop into a crouch immediately, neck practically snapping as you twist to find the source: him.

You lock eyes with each other, and something must flash in his, something dangerous—something hungry. He stays still, watching you watch him. Assessing. Registering him as the threat that he is.

“You gonna run from me?” he taunts, and you answer by doing exactly that, taking off at a sprint.

It makes Toji’s blood race in a way he’s only experienced when holding a weapon, when spattered with blood. It’s the rush he feels when he’s holding someone’s life in the palm of his hand.

He hurries after you, not quite at his full speed—that would end this too quickly—but fast enough to keep his heart pumping, quick and heavy where it rattles in his ribcage.

You veer left and he follows, giving you enough space to make you feel like you just might outpace him, that maybe you’ll get somewhere safe.

Boots slipping on the foliage underfoot, you careen forward only to catch yourself on your hands and push forward like a track star. Toji is locked on to your every movement now, the pump of your legs and arms, the way your hair whips around your face, the panicked little noises that slip from your mouth that you think he can’t hear.

Oh, but he can. He hears and sees it all, and he wants it. He wants you.

You have no fucking idea how cute you are like this, eyes widening when you chance a glance over your shoulder to find him gaining on you.

A high pitched shriek, and then he sees it—the ghost of a smile, a hysterical giggle bubbling out of your chest.

Toji feels his face split into a manic grin, desire coursing through his veins, clogging his arteries, making his mouth water and his dick twitch. When he gets his hands on you…

“You havin’ fun?” he calls from behind you, blessed with another look from you, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of him, and it’s that curiosity that cuts this little game short.

You trip over a root and go down hard this time, grunt when all the air is pushed from your lungs. He doesn’t give you the chance to get back up, just puts his foot in the middle of your back to keep you in place.

Toji clicks his tongue in an admonishing tsk, presses down on you with a little more weight when you start to wiggle.

“I see why you’re so scared about those bounties,” he muses, “you’re way too fuckin’ easy to track down.”

“I wasn’t—hh—” he pushes harder just for the fun of it and is rewarded with a little squeak of desperation. “��wasn’t trying to hide.”

“No?” Toji removes his foot only to lower himself, squatting over you as he slinks a hand around your neck and tugs you toward him so that your back bends into a painful arch. “Why’s that?”

“Fuck you,” you manage to gasp, your fingers curling into the dirt, feet scrambling for traction to relieve some of the pressure he’s putting on your spine.

He laughs darkly, “you wanted me to catch you, didn’t you? This your idea of foreplay?”

Without letting you answer, he lets go of you and flips you over, takes in the sight of your heaving chest and the wild look in your eyes.

“Tell me, doll, did that get your pussy wet?” He reaches between your legs, rubs your mound through your tights and smirks at how much heat is radiating from your core.

“Not so much fight in you now, is there?” he teases, licking his lips when you rub yourself against his palm.

“Would you just… nng fuck—just get on with it,” you grit.

“Get on with what?”

“Just fuck me!” you plead. It comes off as a demand, but Toji knows better, appreciates the position you’re in. You’re nothing but a scared dog, snapping at a hand that’s only trying to feed you.

“Right here?” he questions in fake surprise, “in the woods? Dirty girl.”

“Toji, I swear to God—”

He shuts you up with a harsh kiss, the kind that bruises, leaves lips split, swollen, and slick with spit. The kind of kiss that makes you chase him after he’s pulled away.

“You talk too much,” he states plainly, and all you do is slowly blink at him.

Yeah, he’s got you now. You’re fucking hooked, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

He’s nearly fully hard, grinds his cock against your stomach so that you can feel what you’ve gotten yourself into. You whimper and roll your hips, baiting him further, but he doesn’t go for it. Not yet.

Instead he sits back on his knees and paws at your tights, starting to pull them down before he gets impatient and simply tears. It doesn’t take much effort; they’re made of cheap material and Toji is, well, stronger than the average person.

You make a noise of protest, but it dies in your throat when he spreads your legs and stuffs your already dripping cunt with two of his fingers.

“I knew you were getting off on that—just like I knew you’d have the most gorgeous fuckin’ pussy,” he drawls, watching the way his fingers split you open and groaning at how warm and soft you are. God damn, you are going to feel divine wrapped around his cock.

“Come on, baby, tell me you liked it…” he licks a stripe up your neck, his free hand slipping under your sweatshirt to grope your tits— “heart’s beating so fast. You excited?”

You shake your head and buck your hips all at once, and when Toji leans close again, you surge up to catch him in another cruel kiss. This time, you fist your hands in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt.

He lets you think you’re at least halfway in control, but the longer you taste him, the faster he fingerfucks you, his palm slapping against your clit as he increases the pace until you start to grow tense beneath him.

He knows that look, that tell-tale coil of muscles. You stop kissing him, breaths getting short and quick, but Toji keeps his face close to yours, growls at you to, “look at me while you cum,” as he pulls your first, messy orgasm from you.

You truly are a sight to behold, whole body spasming as your cunt sucks at his fingers. You break his gaze when your eyes roll into the back of your head, lips trembling around poorly formed pleas.

It feels like his last shred of sanity snaps. Seeing you run from him was one thing, triggered something primal in his brain that made him chase—hunt—but this, having you laid out on the dirt and the leaves…

This is how it was always supposed to be, Toji thinks to himself as he pulls his cock free from his pants. It throbs with every beat of his heart, pulsing in his palm and leaking pearly precum.

You’re soft and pliant from your orgasm, offering only a whimper when he readjusts and hikes your leg over his shoulder.

“Gonna be good for me, yeah?” he huffs, lining himself up with your sopping entrance, thick head prodding at your squishy ring of muscle. “Just take it like a good girl, just—”

He cuts himself off with a groan as he starts pushing in, bullying his way into your perfect cunt and reveling in the noises it makes. You suck him deeper and deeper, and Toji laughs at the expression painting your pretty face: shock, maybe a little fear as you struggle to look down at where you’re attached, watching as he fills you inch by inch.

Your body stretches around him, makes him feel like fucking Moses the way your spongy walls make room for his girth.

“Fuck… fuck, Toji, you’re—”

“Sh, sh, I know, sweetheart, just a little more,” he lies. He’s maybe halfway in, but there’s no way he’s stopping now, not until his cockhead is bruising your cervix.

You whine, back arching, and Toji tries to soothe you with a clumsy kiss only to hiss when you catch his lip and bite hard.

He grunts, tries to pull back, but you keep him still, drawing blood from his mouth first then his ribs when you claw at him. He can feel his shirt cling to the shallow wounds and growls when you release him, the sudden loss of pressure just as painful as the initial bite.

“Jesus, woman…”

“You—hah—deserve it,” you choke, stained mouth opening wider and wider with every inward thrust.

Your cry echoes in the woods when he bottoms out without warning, and Toji immediately sets a merciless pace. He watches you coat his thick shaft in cream, your poor little fuckhole so leaky and stretched. The noises you’re making are more animal than human, needy whines and pained grunts as you take everything he has to give.

Toji fists a hand in your hair, gives your head a little shake and watches the way your eyes slowly roll to meet his. Your lips are swollen, still red with his own blood, but they part when he tells you to, “open wide,” so he can spit on your tongue. Toji grins when you swallow, finally finally too out of your damn mind to talk back.

“That’s a good bitch,” he mutters, and when he sees your mouth twitch into a little smile, he pushes further, “that’s all you wanted, yeah? You just needed to be put in your place, huh, baby?”

He throws your other leg over his shoulder and locks both arms behind you, hands curling up your back to grip your shoulders. Rutting into you relentlessly, Toji kisses and bites all over your neck and chest, licking up the drool that slips from your mouth.

You’ll be in a world of pain tomorrow, but you’re tough, so you’ll live. And even if he has to listen to you bitch and moan, it’ll be worth it after feeling your sweet pussy wrapped around him, gushing all over his fat cock with every orgasm he forces out of you.

“T-Ji…”

It comes out more as a cough, one that Toji ignores as he feels his climax approach. He uses you like a toy, fucking into you over and over and committing the sticky squelch of your pussy to memory. He’s gonna replay this masterpiece over and over for years to come, fucking his fist while imagining the way you look right now—tears streaming down the sides of your face, lips spit slick and swollen, skin all bruised up from his own mouth and fingers.

Fuck, you’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, and you’re taking his cock so well, pussy swallowing him up and squeezin’ so so nice, he has to let go. He has to—

“Oh fuck, baby, gonna fill you up so good. You ready?”

You respond with a sort of gurgle that Toji takes as confirmation, and after a few more thrusts he empties his heavy balls inside of you. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum so much or so hard in his life, hot white painting your guts in viscous ropes until it starts seeping out around his cock.

Your poor cunt is so swollen, lips all puffy and messy with slick and cum. And that fat little clit—Toji pinches it, probably too mean, and coos at you to relax and take it when you start to sniffle.

“Sorry, baby. Gotta make sure you get yours too, right?” He knows you already have, but he can’t help but toy with you a little longer.

Besides, you’re being so good for him now, so docile as your body twitches, jaw moving like you want to say something but can’t, eyes rolling all around your pretty head until your muscles seize up and you cum for him one more time.

“There we go—that’s a good girl, see?” You blink teary eyes at him, a deep breath shuddering through you as one, maybe two senses return to you. “Feel better?”

You nod slowly as if confused. Or high. Probably the latter considering Toji is feeling pretty stoned too, a little dizzy as he sits up straight and leans back on his heels.

“Good. Next time you need the attitude fucked outta ya’, just tell me instead of actin’ like a bitch, ‘kay?”

A little smirk curls onto your face, and before Toji can react, you’re sitting up with two hands wrapped around his throat.

“Call me that again, and I’ll show you what a bitch can really do.”

Your palm presses against his windpipe in a threatening way. Your eyes shine with dark promise.

And Toji’s cock twitches at the idea of riling you up all over again.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Study Session

michael gavey x reader

A/N: a fufilled request :)

TW: smut!, dry humping, titty sucking, size kink

word count: 1,283 words

“C’mon you can’t be dumb and weak, that’s just pathetic” Michael rolls his eyes as he holds the flashcards in front of you.

“I already said it’s 1536 and I’m not weak or dumb.” You glare at him.

“You have to know the full date. You know that.”

“That’s stupid.”

“May 19th.”

“I knew that!” You protest and snatch the cards out of his hands. You begin to look at the answers on the cards. “And I knew that was June 16th and that was March 3rd.” He tries to grab the cards back.

“You won’t learn anything if you do that.” He snatches them out of your hands with ease. “And like I said before, not very strong.”

You shove him. He doesn’t go very far. “I’m not weak.”

“Yes you are. You’re tiny compared to me.” He teases and you push him again. “Stop that you little brat.”

You snatch his glasses and stand up, taking a few stops back. You stick your tongue out at him.

“Oh very mature.” He stands, holding his hand out. “Give them back.”

“No.” You say like a petulant child.

He sighs before reaching out to try and grab them from you but you’re a little too quick this time. You dart to the other side of the room and you actually have him chasing you now.

“This is silly.” He says as he stops. You’re cornered now.

“Boo hoo Michael hates fun.” You say with a fake pout.

He holds his hands out for his glasses once more and you try to dart away. He grabs you firmly around your waist and pushes you back on his bed, realizing that he’s going to have to wrestle them out of your hands. You giggle as you fall down, playfully fighting back but he gets on top of you, gripping your wrists firmly with one hand and pinning them above your head. He puts his glasses back on with his other hand, not quite yet realizing the position he’s put you in.

“Michael?” You murmur out and he looks down at you. You can feel how hard he’s gotten against you due to all the movement and he can see the slightest glimpse of your panties from how your skirt has ridden up.

He brings himself back down to reality. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to. I-I can’t control it.” You know he is referring to the very obvious tent in his trousers. He’s clearly about to get up but you see your chance and  you grind yourself against him. He lets out a strangled groan.

“Maybe now’s a good time to tell you that i’ve liked you for a while.” You say softly as you look into his eyes. He can practically feel the lust radiating off of you. “Do you-”

You’re cut off before you can finish the sentence as he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is hungry and needy and you feel all his emotion through it.

“I’ve liked you for a while too.” He murmurs before kissing you again. You can feel him rubbing up against you subconsciously. “Um… you should also know that I haven’t done this before.”

“Done what before?” You know what he’s referring to but you want to make him say it.

“Sex.” He says nervously.

“Who said we were going to have sex?”

“Nobody! I mean - that’s not all I want or something. W-We don’t have to!” He stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s fucked it all up now. “I really like you!”

You giggle. “I’m just teasing Mikey. We can have sex.”

“You’re such a little shit.”

“Well if you don’t want to then I can just leave.” You begin to sit up but he puts his hands on your shoulders to push you back down.

“No, I want to. I definitely want to.” There’s a very intense look in his eyes and you just kind of nod in response.

He looks down so he can unzip his trousers and pull his length out. By the time he looks back up, you’ve taken your top off. His jaw drops at the sight of your lacy bra and he realizes it matches the tiny glimpse that he got of your panties. He immediately lifts up your skirt to check if he remembered correctly.

“Michael!” You scold him for looking under your skirt without asking.

“You wore a matching set to study with me?” There’s a stupid, cocky grin on his face as he asks the question.

“Shut up.” You murmur in response with flushed cheeks from your embarrassment.

“You really do have a big fat crush on me.” He teases. “Don’t girls usually wear shorts under skirts or were you just really wanting to flash me your panties?”

“I swear to God, I will leave right now.”

“No, don’t go. I’m sorry.” He teases gently with that dumb grin still on his face before he leans down to give you another peck on the lips.

“You’re lucky I like you.” You grumble before you reach for the clasp of your bra. 

A bra that clasps in the front; he feels like he’s going to go fucking feral.

“I’m a very lucky man.” He breathes out as you reveal your tits to him. “Oh fuck.” He groans like a desperate preteen boy before palming them with both hands. If he wasn’t rock hard before, then he sure is now.

“Perv.”

“Whatever.” He very clearly doesn’t care as he begins to suck on your right breast. You run your fingers through his hair, whimpering as he licks over your nipple.

“Are you going to suck my tits all day or do I get to pop your cherry?” You ask and he rolls his eyes.

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Of course you don’t. Virgin.” He pinches your nipple. “Ow!” You glare at him.

“Can I still fuck you?” 

The audacity.

“You’re paying for plan B.”

He grins at your answer and pushes your skirt around your waist. He decides to keep your panties on and just push them to the side. You feel him rubbing his tip against your opening. He looks at you with pleading eyes. “Can I put it in?” You nod right away before you feel yourself stretch around him. He’s just so goddamn big.

“Oh fuck.” You whine as he begins to thrust in and out of you. He goes slow and concentrates so he doesn’t become a one pump chump. He watches as your hand goes down to rub your clit. He’ll have to learn to do that for you next time.

“God, you feel so good.”He moans as he feels your creamy, tight pussy around him. It makes him fuck you a little faster now.

“You’re so big, Michael. Feel you in my tummy.” You whimper out as you squeeze a bit around him.

“I-I’m cumming. I’m cumming.” He can’t stop himself when you say such things to him and he doesn’t even ask before he cums inside you. You squeeze around him in tandem when you feel him fill you, managing to reach your peak as well. “Sorry…” He breathes out. He may not have finished right away but he sure as hell didn’t last long.

“It’s okay. You did good.” You praise him as he pulls out of you. Michael puts your panties back in place right away because he likes the idea of you keeping his cum inside you. “Perv.” You mutter.

“Your perv.” He grins and lays his head down on your chest. “Does this mean I get to be your boyfriend now?”

You pretend to think for a moment.

“Of course it does, idiot.”

taglist (comment to be addex): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 7 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

[barefoothighlander]

fear of the dark

summary: ghost is teaching you to evade enemies before your little game turns into something darker

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), dub con, light hunter/prey dynamic, unprotected pinv, fingering, creampie, mask stays on, knife play, name calling, outdoor sex, biting, est relationship

“It goes on like this, green light means it’s active, the red means it’s off” He tucks the comm behind your ear, securing it before pulling his hands back. “This button is to talk, you have to wait for a second for the feed to run through but if anything happens, you tell me”

“Got it, green on, press to talk”

“And keep to channel 4”

You huff a breath, “Okay”

“You ready?”

“What do I get if I outrun you”

“A new skill"

“Boo”

“And if you win” You’re voice is quieter,

“You’ll find out” His thumb strokes across your cheek, “I’ll give you a head start, no leaving the property line, use what I’ve taught you and stay out of my sights, if you make it to sunrise you win”

You smirk, “See you at sunrise”

Turning around you march away from him, moving at a rushed pace, trying to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, the ground is dry which means your tracks will be harder to find, moving your way towards the woods you spare a glance behind you, his large frame relaxed against the side of the house, illuminated by the single light outside as his hands cling to his vest his eyes glued to you.

It’s pitch black outside, the moon provided minimal light through the branches of the tree, guiding your path, you know he doesn’t have his night vision but he’s an expert at finding tracks, one of the few skills his father taught him when they’d go hunting.

You’re breathing heavy as you stumble over rocks, walking for what already felt like hours, navigating around the dark trying to cover your tracks. You make sure to stick to dry ground, knowing that if you stepped in any mud he’d notice the footprints and be on you in an instant.

You reach a small clearing in the woods, deciding it was as good a place as any to take a small rest, you’re not sure how much of a head start he gave you but you know you can’t sit for long. It’s strangely quiet, only a few noises of squirrels running through trees fills the air, there’s no wind or birds, all you can hear is the sound of your own heart, thudding in your ears.

You glimpse at your watch, it’s only midnight, the sun wouldn’t be up for another six hours and you had a lot of ground to cover. Pushing yourself from your position you continue through the woods, avoiding patches of leaves and sticks that could snap as you walk.

Your legs are aching by the time you reach a small stream, trying to navigate your position, doing your best to recall where the stream started. It’s tempting to just jump in, the humid air of summer doing little to cool your sweat beaded skin, the effort of moving up and down hills taking its toll on your muscles.

Fuck it.

If anything it’ll be harder for him to find you in the stream, pulling your boots off and stringing them to your backpack you step in, the coke water forming goosebumps on your skin as you wiggle your toes through the stream. You bend down to grab a hand-full, splashing it against your warm cheeks in an effort to cool down, letting it trickle down your neck as it wets the collar of your shirt.

“Oi, you there?”

His voice rings through your comm, you move to respond but stop yourself, if you answered now he’d know exactly where you were, the noise from the water would echo through your mic, directly into his earpiece.

You jump out of the stream quickly, moving a few paces away so that it was out of earshot before pressing your finger to the button.

"You miss me already?"

“Just checking in"

"Sure"

“Don’t be a brat”

“What are you gonna do about it” You tease through the comms

“Wanna find out?” His voice is deeper

Your hair suddenly stands on end,

He waits a beat, “You need to focus”

“I am”

“What if I was an enemy”

“What are you gonna do, you can’t even find me”

He doesn’t respond.

“Simon?"

The line drops and so does your heart, realizing that he could be directly behind you a sense of panic sets in, you jump back into the stream, following its flow as you rush through the water, your feet splashing it onto your clothes as you make your way through, praying it would cover your tracks.

You’re on edge, the silence of the forest now gone as every twig that snaps grabs your attention, your head on a swivel as you reach a small pond. Stepping out of the water and pulling your boots back on, you squint your eyes around trying to catch a glimpse of him, your breath catching in your throat everytime a branch shifted.

You move further into the woods, checking your watch again 1:36 how had it only been an hour and a half, it felt like forever since you stepped into the trees, the soothing chill of the water now gone, your legs ached from your efforts.

“Are your pants soaked?” His voice breaks your thoughts,

“What?”

“Water was a nice touch”

The line drops again, he’s at the top of the stream which gives you a little bit to gain some distance, tugging your bag around your shoulders you hike further.

Everything starts to look the same, all the trees are reminiscent of each other, you’ll admit you’re lost, but not to him, he’d accuse you of giving up and you didn’t want that. You try your best to navigate your direction, trying to use the stars as some sort of guide but it’s useless, the clouds in the sky block half your view and you can’t remember anything about astronomy anyway, your brain too clouded by the pain in your body.

Your breath hitches at the noise of a branch snapping, your heartbeat now in your ears, you didn't factor in how scary the woods are at night, every sense heightened in the dark.

"Simon?"

You call through your comms but there's no answer, it's dead air, your nerves on fire now, your we’re alone completely, you really didn’t think this through, didn’t stop to consider what would happen if the comms went dead.

You see a small light to your right, squinting your eyes to figure out what it’s from, hoping it was a street light of some sort you move toward it, moving past trees and fallen branches to get to it.

You’re huffing for air as you approach it, your eyes almost shut as it nears, blinding you, you shield your face with a hand,

“What’d I tell you about strange lights”

Your heart drops as you hear him, the crunching of leaves under his boots as he moves near you. You stumble back from him, head turning to find some sort of escape route,

“What’d I tell you love”

you swivel your head from his form to behind you, “They’re deceiving”. In a burst of adrenaline you take off, running away from him as he fades from view, it’s unnerving the way he just walks, he’s not chasing you, it’s like he knows where you’re going.

You’re feet carry you faster than you can think, twisting around trees and over hills, the taste of metal in your mouth as your palm runs over your stomach, a cramp settling into the muscle. You rest against a large oak, closing your eyes and catching your breath, your skin on fire as you try to focus on the sounds around you.

You wait a moment, bracing yourself before turning your body to move, gasping as you feel a hand tug you back.

“Gotcha”

You’re gasping for air as he pins you against the tree, his hands clamped around your arms, keeping you from fighting back.

“Okay, you win, let’s go home”

“Not without my prize”

“Simon, please” Your body is weak against his, no energy left in your muscles as he invaded your space, his chest pressing against yours, the fabric of his vest digging into your flesh.

“You didn’t listen”

“What?” Your brain is a fog

“You did nearly everything wrong, I could’ve had you the minute you stepped into the woods”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t apologize, you’ll learn”

Your hooded eyes plead with him, begging to go home, to rest but finding no sympathy, he leans his face towards yours, his chin next to your neck.

“I think you wanted to get caught, wanted to see what would happen”

His words click in your head, the heat from your skin suddenly transferring to your core, your arms straining against his grip as you let out a small whimper.

“That’s it, isn’t it, you wanted be to find you, to teach you a proper lesson”

He squeezes your arms tighter when you don’t respond, his eyes moving to stare into yours, his gaze is dark something darker behind it.

“That’s alright love, I’ll give you what you want, but you have to listen”

You squeeze your thighs, trying to rid yourself of the ache between them as his hand trails down your side. He removes it for a minute, your stomach flinching as you feel the press of cold metal against it, it forms goosebumps on your skin, he trails it toward your breasts, teasing it through the valley of them before placing it under the hem of your shirt, splitting the fabric up the middle.

The cold air hits your skin causing your nipples to harden as he traces the blade over your skin, pressing it flat against the raised buds.

“You look good like this, all ready for me to use”

Your chest maintains a steady rise and fall, “Si-“

“Not this time love”

Your face falls as you watch his face, the shell of a skull staring back at you, “Ghost, please”

He pays no attention to your words, running his knife along your skin before settling it above the hem of your pants, wriggling your hips to sooth your arousal.

“Needy little thing aren’t you”

He removes his hands from you, giving you an out but you stand in front of him, weak fingers working to undo your pants, he watches as you stumble to step out of them, leaving you in your underwear, the chill outside doing little to settle your nerves.

“Such a perfect little thing” He runs a gloves hand over your breasts, humming as you let out a sigh. Your body freezes as his knife makes contact with your skin again, trailing it towards your core before using it to cut your panties, letting the fabric drop.

He flips the blade, teasing your thighs with the handle of it before he runs it through your folds, biting back a gasp, there was no way to hide your arousal now.

He pulls his knife into view, your slick coating the handle, glistening in front of your face “You’re fucking soaked, you little slut”

“Open your mouth”

You do as he says, flattening your tongue and pushing it out as his hand cups your jaw, holding it open. He runs the handle across the muscle, the taste of yourself dancing over your taste buds as he pushes it slowly into your mouth, stifling a chuckle as you gag around the handle. He watches the string of spit that forms between you and the weapon as he retracts it from your mouth, his eyes glancing toward your core, your unsteady legs holding you up as he brings the weapon towards it.

“Do you think you deserve my cock?”

“Yes, please Ghost”

He teases the handle between your folds, holding it against your weeping core, forcing you to clench around nothing.

Your head falls forward as he pushes it into you, the rough material running along your walls as he pumps it into you. Your hand reaches to brace on his shoulder, holding yourself up before his free hand connects with your throat, pushing you back against the tree. Your body is on display for him, his head looking down to where your cunt is swallowing his blade, groaning at the sight of your slick leaking from your core.

“Greedy little slut, you’d take anything wouldn’t you”

You shake your head, your voice strained by his grip on your neck,

“You will, you’ll take everything I give you”

He thrusts the handle into you faster, tightening his hand as you start to grind yourself down on it,

“Need more, please”

“You wanna cum on my knife you fucking slag”

“Please” You open your eyes at him, your face flush as you silently beg, he releases your throat, allowing you a breath as his gloved hand meets your clit, you arch your back at the contact, the rough circles providing enough stimulation that you feel your knees weaken.

“Do it, cum for me”

His fingers rub along your bud and you come undone, your fingers digging into his vest as you cum with a sob, your body falling forward against him as his fingers work you through your high. He feels you finish, pulling his knife from you, listening to you whimper from the loss of contact as he throws it to the dirt.

His arms lock under your thighs, hoisting your weak from against him and pressing your back against the tree, he grinds his clothed erection against your cunt, your core soaking his pants as your arms wrap around his neck.

“I’m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna take it, all of it”

Your pussy clench’s at the thought, your ears failing to hear hun unzip his pants, the tip of his cock reading through your folds, smearing your slick around your thighs as he lines himself up.

You bury your head in his neck as he pushes in, the stretch of him burning your walls as he stuffs his cock inside. His hands grip your waist, moving you further down his length until his tip is buried in your cervix, your fingers digging into his back as you whimper around him.

“That’s it, gonna fill this tiny cunt”

He holds you against the tree, keeping you up as his hips pull back, his cock dragging against your walls before he thrusts it back in, his balls slap against your ass as he pounds his cock into you, forcing you to take every inch.

“Fuck, can practically see myself in you”

He holds you with one arm while the other presses firmly to your stomach,

“Gonna split you on my fat fucking cock, you’d like that huh?”

His hand makes contact with the side of your ass when you don’t respond,

“I said you’d like that, wouldn’t you”

“Yes!” You scream, the heartbeat in your ears overpowering any other noise in the area as he moulds you to his cock.

“Gonna fill this tight pussy with my cum, let you walk around with my seed in your cunt, dirty fucking whore”

He buried himself deeper with every thrust, pulling almost all the way out only to force his length back in, the weight behind his thrust bouncing you up and down, his eyes watching the way your breasts jump with every pump of his cock.

His fingers trail to your sensitive clit, pinching the bud, you let out a yelp, bearing your teeth into the base of his neck as he grunts, you mark his flesh as his grip on you gets tighter, sure to leave bruises in their wake.

Tears well in the corners of your eyes as you drop your cheek to his shoulder, the saliva in your moth dripping to wet his collar as he works another orgasm from you.

“Cum on my cock, want you to soak me, feel you squeeze me with your tight little cunt”

The bark of the tree scrapes against your bare skin, forcing you to arch into him, his cock driving deeper into you as you sob around him, his fingers circling and flicking over your clit, the band inside you stretching as your body melts.

You clench down on him, greedily taking every inch as you cum, your slick dripping from your core to wet his cock, your cum coating the opening of his pants as he grinds his pelvis against your clit, the friction from his pubic hair adding another layer as you ride out your orgasm.

You’re reduced to whimpers as he takes over all your senses, all you can hear, feel, see is him, the way his cock has you full, his grunts filling your ears as your gaze is stuck on him.

“That’s it baby, so good for me, such a perfect little slut”

You cling to him with weak limbs as his knuckles go white from his gold on you, his arms rising you up and down to meet his thrusts as he chases his high,

“That’s it, fuck that’s it, taking me so well”

He quickens his pace, fucking you ruthlessly, your aching core sucking him in as he pushes his length into you, his tip buried deep inside your walls as he holds you against his chest. Your lower stomach warms with the feeling of him spilling inside you, flooding your core as you sigh, your pussy fluttering as he pulls from you, watching his seed leak from your cunt before pushing it back in with two fingers, making sure it all stays in.

He holds you for a moment, letting you regain your composure before gently letting you down, his hand on your waist holding you steady as he removes his jacket, wrapping it around your naked form providing some sort of warmth.

You watch him with heavy lids, your body swaying at you try to stay upright, his stare is softer now as he bends down, his arms snaking under your legs to pick you up, holding you against his chest.

“Did so well love” He presses his forehead to yours, the heat of his body warming your cold limbs, “Let’s go home”.

He maneuvers around carefully, holding you steady as he moves around the trees, his gaze shifting to you every minute to make sure you were okay. He makes it out of the woods in minutes, the warm light of the windows coming into view as your body grows tired.

He carrie’s you into the house, slowly making his way towards the bathroom, setting you down for a moment so he can turn the tap on the bath on, he kneels in front of you, his hands tugging his mask off so you can see him, giving him a weak smile as he gently removes your remaining clothes.

He helps you to stand, walking towards the warm bath, feeling your muscles sooth as you step in, the water washing over your skin. He strips his own clothes, feeling the water rise as he sits behind you, his legs bent beside your frame as you lean back against his chest.

He runs a gentle cloth over your skin, cleaning up any dirt and grime that was on it, carefully cleaning around your core before his arms settle around your stomach, holding you close.

He rests his lips against the crown of your head as you focus on the sound of his breaths, steady behind you, lulling you to sleep as his thumbs trace over your skin.

[itstheghostofmypast]

Thanatophobia

Idol Choi Jongho x (F)Reader

Summary: How long does it take one to actually give up on you? How long does it take the other to realise that love is more than just an act of receiving, where bottled-up fears and insecurities may be enough to pull someone away from you, especially the someone Jongho had begun to take for granted.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2.4k

Est. Read Time: 20 min

Warnings: Strong language, thanatophobia (fear of losing someone you love)

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

Choi Jongho was anything but heartless, he was arrogant at times, he was stubborn most of the time, he was emotionally clueless sometimes, he was sarcastic most of the time, he was petty at times and he was straightforward most of the time, but what he was not, and he quotes, was a ‘heartless moron’. Now, he wasn’t one to fight, in fact, they’d barely ever get into a fight, usually because she would be compromising or choosing to accept defeat, but tonight was not one of those nights where he was given this privilege, where she would easily accept defeat and brush off his sarcasm, no, it just escalated into something ugly and gruesome.

It all started when he came home early for once, the dorm was empty too, or so he thought, for the moment he had flopped down on his bed, face forward, someone had jumped on him, scaring the daylights out of him.

“Boo!” “HOLY SHHHH- what are you doing here?” he whined, rolling over when she rolled off him, both of them lying on their backs, staring at the ceiling, well, he had his eyes closed, she turned her head to look at him with a pout, scooting closer, wrapping her arms around his arm as she pressed her cheek smush against his shoulder, enjoying the warmth of her baby bear, “I had the spare key, Wooyoung gave it to me last time I came over but you were out, so he was like I should have it, gave me his saying he’d get another one and-” Cracking open an eye he scoffed, “You sure talk a lot to Wooyoung huh?” turning his head to meet her gaze, she had stopped her monologue, to stare at him in utter shock, “What? I’m not wrong, I didn’t even know about the key thing- Sitting up she glared at him, “That’s because you weren’t home, Jong.” The tension between them was getting thicker, he was tired physically, but she was tired mentally, “You haven’t been responding to my texts or answering my calls, so I doubt you’d know- “I have a job, you know?” he scoffed, following suit, as she sat on his bed on her knees, frowning at him, and he sat at the edge of the bed, both in a heated stare off, he was actually waiting for her to avert her gaze, or mumble an apology or whine cutely to end the fight, so he’d feel like he’d won like he had control, some form of dominance, “I can’t just respond to your every whim.” That was probably what set it off, because the next thing he knew she got off the bed and snatched her phone off the side table, slamming the bedroom door shut when she marched out of the room, her tantrum just set the whole forest on fire as he marched behind her, slamming the closed door open and calling out, “Yah? Are you in your senses? Why are you being like this!?” reaching out to grip her wrist he turned her around, ignoring how she was trying to pull away, “What is your problem? Are you mad about the Wooyoung thing? Cause I’m right about that! You’re my girlfriend, not his!” by now he was yelling, furious, frustrated, fed up, but at what? At his hectic schedule or her? Or perhaps he was upset over how he was unable to spend time with her and the time he had been given was ruined by his own pride. “Y-You think I don’t know that?” she yelled back, snatching her wrist out of his grip, “I know you’re busy too, but the least you can do is leave me on read, can’t you? You don’t even open my texts! I can’t magically guess your schedule!” He should have stopped there, he should have, he had realised that he was in the wrong, but was he willing to accept it so easily? No. Why? Because he was jealous, he was upset and more importantly this was the first time she had ever ignored him, ever chosen to show how his nonchalant attitude had upset her, this was not what he expected, he just thought they’d go on for ten minutes and she’d probably change the topic, not list down why he’s a bad boyfriend. “Doesn’t mean you get all cosy with Wooyoung.” “I-” she stared at him standing in the hallway for a good minute before taking off her ring and throwing it at him, the clink of the gold ring hitting the ground resonated within the silence, before her words cut through it, “You’re a heartless moron.”

That was three hours ago, three hours ago when he had let her walk away like she didn’t even matter to him, instead, he stood there watching the ring on the tiles, the ring she had gotten for them on their first anniversary, it wasn’t a promise ring, but more of a ‘just know when we’re far apart across the world, you’ll always have a piece of me and I’ll have a piece of you’ kind of ring- why’d she throw it at him, shouldn’t she have taken it with her and asked him to give the one he was wearing back to her?

“I love how that’s the only thing you’re worried about.” Wooyoung sighed, climbing up the stairs, his phone sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder as he carried two bags full of groceries up the quiet staircase, “You’re a real idiot you know, she did come over three times last week, the poor thing sat outside the apartment for an hour the third time and that’s when I gave her my key…Hongjoong told me that was the right thing to do too.”

“I- I was busy.” The youngest huffed, staring at the gold band, twirling it around in his fingers, “It’s not like she told me, I was too busy to read her texts, so she should’ve understood-”

“Understood what? That you’re a shitty boyfriend?” Wooyoung stopped at a step, the step that led to their floor, someone was sitting on the floor next to the door to the hallway (Yes Woooyoung had used the fire exit to come upstairs, San had told him this was a great way to work out- he’d kill the bastard for that tomorrow), hugging their knees, head resting against the wall, puffy eyes closed- was she asleep?

“What? Why!?”

“Jongho, did you even call to make sure she reached home safe?”

“Well… I…no.”

“I’m amazed you found someone who loves your useless a**.” With that Wooyoung hung up, sighing as he walked over to her, placing the grocery bags on the floor to crouch down and gently shake her shoulder, “Excuse me miss, but are you in your senses- how are both of you this dumb?”

.

Jongho slammed the front door open, not even bothering to put on his mask as he hastily made his way out of the apartment, only to bump into a smaller form, hearing a familiar yelp he instinctively reached for her, wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer, pressing her against him. He let out a breath of relief, at the realisation that it was in fact her, she was too tired to pull away or even push him away, and that was why she just stood there, letting him wrap his arms around her, resting her forehead against his chest, too drained even to protest. He looked behind her to spot Wooyoung standing there, grocery bags in hand with the most disapproving look he could muster, “Found her on the staircase, poor thing cried herself to sleep there- then there’s you, a bastard with an ego as big as the sun-”

“H-her phone was powered off.” He quickly defended himself, pulling her even closer as he tightened his arms around her, not wanting her to escape. The moment Wooyoung hung up on him, he realised how bad he had f*cked up, Wooyoung was never one to leave a conversation hanging, that is until he completely gave up on the person, and if Wooyoung had given up on him, did this mean his patient, compassionate, honeybee had done the same? Though his question was answered with a loud sniff, causing him to look away from Wooyoung and look down at her, only to meet her teary gaze, his gut twisted at the way she asked the dreaded question with her voice trembling, as if it was being thrown around by her pestering insecurities, insecurities that he had brought to life, that he had helped manifest within her, by constantly pushing her to the sidelines, by ignoring her beckoning calls, by looking right through her even though she stood right in front of him, with a warm smile and a heart of gold- one he was not worthy to call his own; “D-do you not love me, anymore?”

It was this very question that had him look up at Wooyoung in panic, a cry for help, though the fox-like man shrugged and walked past them, mumbling, loud enough for him to hear, because he knew the girl crying in the younger man’s arms was sobbing so loud, the floodgates of all that pain and anxiety that was slowly drowning her had now enveloped her completely, leaving her a mess, a mess he was supposed to fix, so she couldn’t hear him, she didn’t hear him, when he side-eyed the youngest, and walked past them, “You f*cked up, fix it yourself,” slamming the main door shut behind him, finally leaving the two alone in the corridor.

An eternity later the two were sitting on the same staircase where Wooyoung had found her, the two were staring at the window ahead, she thought she was tired before, but all that crying just amazed her, at this point, she felt like she’d faint if he pushed any wrong buttons. Though they had been sitting quietly for the past hour, he had not uttered a word, which meant he wasn’t going to be the first to break the tormenting silence, as usual, it would be her, to kneel and-

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened at the foreign choice of words, slowly turned her head to stare at him with shock through her puffy, swollen, eyes, licking her dry lips before speaking. Still, he cut her off again, this time turning to face her, the determination in his eyes somewhat scaring her, she’d only ever seen that look when he was going to sing a song that wasn’t the easiest when it came to the number of high notes, perhaps he was going to sing a perfect melody that was just for them, in tune with their pent up love for each other- for his locked up love for her, a symphony she wouldn’t mind hearing over and over again.

“I- I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but you need to understand I did not doubt your loyalties or misjudge your character, I was only self-projecting my insecurities, I know you’d never do such a thing, I know you love me and I- I” he paused, watching how her breath hitched, eyes widening in expectation, biting her lower lip unsure of how he felt about her, “I love you so much it turns me stupid- it scares me how much I want to be around you, I- I want to be vulnerable around you and…what if you don’t like it? You don’t like me when I’m not my at my strongest or my best…and I- I guess what I’m trying to say is,” he reached in his pocket to pluck out the ring, showing it to her, “Could you please find it in you…to give me another chance- you don’t have to say yes right away, I won’t force you, I could never…just…let me drop you home this time…yeah?”

She stared at him quietly, blinking slowly as his words processed before letting out a sigh, scooting closer as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she placed a soft kiss against his warm skin, sighing when she felt him pull her closer, gripping him tighter when she heard him sniff, feel his body trembling against hers, letting him finally let it all out against her, but never looking up, her face buried in the crook of his neck, mumbling sweet positive affirmations or kissing the skin as she let him have his moment, only to feel him slowly push her away, looking down at her with puffy eyes that matched hers, and a nose pinker than hers, “Please…stay.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere, you dummy.” Sighing she pulled off him, taking the ring from him but he didn’t let her, instead, he slipped it back on her finger, “I was waiting for you to come and give this to me…if I wanted to leave you for good, I would’ve told you to give me the ring you’re wearing back.”

Letting out a dry chuckle he shook his head, he was an idiot, one who couldn’t read situations as well as he boasted that he could- he guessed he was clueless when it came to love, at least he had someone as patient as her to help him pull through his minefield, frolicking through it like it was a field of daisies.

“Thank you…” he sighed and pressed his forehead against hers, before leaning closer to capture her lips in a kiss, only to realise how long it had been since he had kissed her, making him pull her closer, cupping her face as he tried to make up for lost time.

Finally pulling back she smiled at him out of breath, watching how he took in equally deep breaths, his cheeks all puffed out and pink, “I’m out of practice.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got all night.” She smiled.

“I prefer taking things to the bedroom, not a voyeurism guy.”

“Choi Jongho.”

“I love you” he chuckled, watching her shake her head in defeat as he pulled her up to her feet, laughing when she whined at how he was speed walking to the apartment, mumbling, “Do you want me to carry you? Because I will, for as long as you want, honeybee.” And that’s what Wooyoung saw before Jongho closed his bedroom door, carrying her half-asleep form in his arms, bridal style as he mouthed a thank you to Wooyoung before going to finally cuddle up next to her like she had originally planned for the night.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky

[sofasoap]

Gorgeous art work of Nikto and Anya by @nrdmssgs Also thank you @connorsui for giving me permission to use the idea from this post

warning: None. little fluff and interaction between Uncle Nikto and Anya.

Flowers

“дядя,дядя– ”

Nikto looks down at the little girl currently tugging his pants and holding out a little daisy in her hand.

Don’t touch her. Zhar specifically asks you not to get close to her. 

You will taint her.

The white sheet of pureness.

“Дядя– TA!” Anya shoves the flower up towards the masked man, insisting on him to take the flower off her. 

Nikto sighed, kneeling down to her height and took the flower off her. 

The little girl’s face brightened up and clapped.

“Дядя, stay, stay.” she commanded as she ran off towards the field, bending down to pick more flowers. 

Bossy just like her Papa. 

“Fluffy flower!” Anya shoves a dandelion into his hand, but her face falls as the seed head starts to fly off with the wind. 

“Oh….boo… ah.” She mumbled, and turned towards the fields, leaving Nikto waiting again. 

Nikto doesn’t know what prompts him to sit there, watching her running back and forth, dropping more and more flowers into his lap.

Buttercup, more daisies, lavender, yarrows….

You can form a bouquet.

Maybe you can give the bouquet to Olya 

But Anya will be sad 

There’s something about this little girl that makes the voices in his mind shush themselves, instead of talking over each other, they turn into a quiet discussion. 

“Дядя.” Nikto’s mind pulled back to focus, the little girl yawned. “Sleepy.” 

Without waiting for his reply, she climbs into his lap like a kitten, and settles herself and falls asleep within seconds. 

What should I do?

Why is she trusting me?

“Nikto.”

The growling and heavy footsteps behind him made him turn his head, and he saw his new commander marching towards him, his second in command following closely behind.

“Is my daught….” Nikolai stopped as he spotted the toddler peacefully sleeping in the masked soldier’s lap, surrounded by flowers. He shook his head and sighed, gently picked her up and headed towards his panicking wife.

“Oh lord you found her…”

Nikto watches as the family of three disappear into the building, totally forgetting Zhar’s presence. 

“What were you doing with her?” She frowned at him, waiting for a good explanation. 

“Flower picking.” 

“Looks like you've been used as a human basket.” She looked down at his lap. "What are you going to do with those?”

“Do you want it?” “No. But don’t ruin the little princess’ hard work.”

Nikto was spotted few days later trying to dry out flower and carefully placing them in a box.

[okaerina]

𖥻 ( 尤も ) HYPE BOY ! — @/NMR ⋆ ࣪

syn ; in which your crush declares his love for you !

you enter your class with a bright smile plastered on your face. It was truly a wonder why suddenly you were so enthusiastic about coming to school. well it all started in last year when a cute and cool transfer student from japan became your classmate. he's been popular ever since he stepped foot in this school. both senior and junior girls will fawn over him, boys will die to befriend him or either be like him. his popularity rose up more after he joined the dance and basketball club and drastically secured his position as the ace. nishimura riki he was. soon you also found yourself extremely interested in him.

today was a basketball match and you were gonna cheer for ni-ki to the fullest. not to mention the fact that you've literally spent the whole night praying for his victory. the ringing of the bell snaps you out of your daydream as your eyes fall on the entrance of your classroom and there he is, nishimura riki in all his glory entering the classroom with his signature swag as the girls and boys flee towards him but amidst of all his eyes meet with yours as you quickly avert your gaze down from the embarrassment that you just got caught gawking at him. but you fail to notice the adorning smirk lingering on his plump lips as a light pink hue decorates his bread cheeks.

time flies faster than ever with you constantly stealing glances at ni-ki and getting caught oh so embarrassingly. but you can't stop i mean how are you supposed to? when he looks so dreamy? everyone quickly rushes towards to the school's basketball court as the game's about to start in a while. you rushed to take a seat at the front row where the view is nice with your bestie tailing behind you. the game starts and your nervousness takes over you as if you were the one playing on field. but your anxiety quickly subsides as you take a notice of the dirty blonde mullet's charming smile. the rest of the game was you cheering at the top of your lungs for ni-ki. ni-ki successfully does the last dunk as the victory of ni-ki's team is announced through the microphones. everyone breaks out in a chaos of celebration and some in shame of loss. you were most definitely on the celebration's side.

you rush out your way towards the field where ni-ki is to congratulate him with a beverage in your hand but suddenly you halt in your footsteps not daring to take step forward towards him. there ni-ki stands with girls surrounding him like beehive and suddenly you feel so small and meek compared to them.

does he even know who you are ? do you even have any chance ? will he ever be yours ?

wary questions like this filled your head afterall you weren't the best. you were insecure. but deep inside you always believe your love will reach him and that you'll have your happy ending with him. ni-ki excuses himself from the girls as he takes notice of your zoned out figure and marches towards you. "boo !" he exclaims as you let out a squeak. all he does is laugh at your cute expression and you cannot help but blush at how melodious his laugh sounds. "sorry, btw is thar for me ?" he chirps pointing at the beverage can in your hand. "y-yes!" you reply as you shove that in his hands. he happily mutters out a thanks and proceeds on chugging down the beverage. you take this as a chance to admire his beauty. the way he closes his eyes, his lips attached on the can, his perfect side profile and his prominent adams apple that bobs up and down as he drinks the beverage. seriously how can someone drink so handsomely ?

your quickly pulled out of your lovesick thoughts as ni-ki pulls you by your hands in a empty classroom and that's when you notice your probably gonna die from heart attack caused by him. he locks the classroom door and steps towards you. you notice the way his growing muscles highlight by the sleeveless jersey he's wearing with quarter high jersey pants that compliment his long slender legs. he comes closer, pining your hands on both sides of your head, your back pressed against the blackboard. his face so close to yours you can easily count each and every moles and blemishes. his sweat drenched long hair sticking at the back of his neck as long strands of wet hair fall over his eyes. they tickle your face from the close proximity. his plump lips just few centimetres away from you, your eyes travel from his lips to the mole decorated right under the corner of his lips as you gulp out of nervousness. "did you think I wouldn't notice, princess?" the nickname makes your knees wobble and suddenly you are unable to utter out words as he continues. "it might not be the best occasion but I couldn't control myself anymore y/n. I love you, I really do, I've been in love with you for so long." you couldn't believe what was happening right now. is this a dream ? "I-I love you too" , you reply with a shy smile and blush painting your cheeks. before you can say another word you feel a pair of soft plump lips crash on yours. you flutter your eyes shut in contentment and kiss back. the kiss was so passionate and filled with love.you both broke apart as you two smile resting each other's foreheads together.

"i love you my chemical, hype boy ! "

© aengello / 2023

taglist ; @solarwoniii @shiningstar-byulxx @wtfhyuck @ichiibunztwt

[currentfications]

Ocean Eyes | Part 1

Pairing: Bada Lee x Producer!Reader

Synopsis: You’re the newest member to Jam Republic Agency’s South Korean branch, starting next week as a music producer. You’ve arrived a few weeks in advance to settle into the area, and was advised by the agency to stop by JustJerk to greet another fellow member, famous choreographer Bada Lee.

Warnings: Swearing

AN: Recently relocated to this blog, hope you enjoy the read!

Previous | Next

Standing in front of the building, you take a deep breath and hope that the heart throb dancer you’ve seen on the dance show is as down to earth as Latrice have previously mentioned. Knowing that they are still filming the final few episodes of Street Women Fighter 2 and the possibility that the team’s schedule is jam packed, you crossed your fingers that you’ve arrived at a good time for a quick hello.

Walking into the reception area, you were greeted by the receptionist and stated your reasons of visit, along with a few administrative details. Once that is completed, you waited in front of the elevator, quickly checking your outfit. You’re wearing a turtleneck and an oversized coat, skirts with an opaque black tights underneath. Almost every inch of your skin was covered, a lesson you’ve learned during your visit to Akanen in Japan - people tend to stare a lot when you have this amount of tattoos, little artwork you’ve collected like stickers all over your body. Then there’s the intimidation factor, where people tend to find you inapprochable; you’ve decided to cover up a little for your first meet up with your agency member.

You noticed a loose shoelace right before the elevator arrived and squat down to lace up your platform boots - a signature piece on you that you never leave home without, a relic you take from your past life in Australia. The elevator dinged and you straightened yourself up to walk in.

The metal doors opened up to seven girls already inside, presumably coming up from the parking lot. Your eyes widen as you recognised the members of BEBE looking back at you, pausing their chatter to give you a polite nod. Initially planning on greeting the group leader in their studio, the sudden encounter took you by surprise. You entered the elevator with the girls and returned the greeting, only to promptly turn around to press on a random floor button. The doors closed and a moment of awkward silence filled the room.

When the elevator next opened up you excused yourself from the situation, “Have a great day lovely ladies,” came out of your mouth as you contemplated between ‘great day’ and ‘lovely day’, you marched down the corridor as the metal door slams behind you, trying to maintain your composure. As soon as the elevator moved on to the other floors you squatted down near the corridor, trying to bury your face from the encounter. You pulled out your phone to text the other Jam Republic dancer for a rant.

Y/N: LATRICE I COULDNT DO ITTTTT

Latrice: Wdym are u still standing in front of the building?

Latrice: Just walk in already u cowardly bitch 🥱

Y/N: I DID

Y/N: b-but they were just in the elevator and it was so cramped and so awkward and I freaked out 😭😭

Latrice: Ma’am are u telling me u were silent the whole elevator ride and followed them to the studio like a creep??

Y/N: What no I’m not an idiot wtf

Y/N: I went to a random floor instead

Latrice: Oh god you dumb cunt, I told u she’s really nice didn I?

Y/N: … yes :(

Y/N: … but they’re like really cute

Y/N: … and I was in an elevator with ALL 7 OF THEM

Y/N: Your honour it’s not my fault that I have problem talking to hot girls in an enclosed space

Latrice: boo, u whore

Y/N: Yes now come pick me up I know you and Kirsten are still in the area

On the other side of the elevator, the group exchanged a look and all started giggling. Your all black attire and looking statue, though did not help to make you any less intimidating, made quite an impression on the dancers. “Who’s that?” Sowoen was the first to break through the giggles. “I think I might’ve had a crush.” The youngest of the group twirled her hair between her fingers.

“Oh wow what about me?” The leader of the group interjected, her supple lips pouty, feigning a look of heartbreak.

Lusher lightly smacked their leader’s shoulder, “No but Sowoen is right, ‘lovely ladies?’ Damn that was smooth.” Tatter nodded and hummed along in agreement.

“Y’all see another tall hot dancer and have forgotten all about me, I see how it is.” Bada complaint and continued to fake-sulk. When the elevator opened up at their floor, your cotton candy perfume dissipated and the tall dancer found herself missing the sweet scent in the air.

Tatter side eyed her leader, “Emphasis on hot dancer, so you agree with our sentiment too huh-” her sentence was cut short by Bada poking her sides. “Attention ladies and gentlemen, Bada Lee has her eye on someone. I repeat, Ms. Lee is checking out someb-” the blonde was again attacked mercilessly by the taller girl.

“Excuse me I think I called first dib?” The youngest of the group protested. “I had eyes on mother first and I’ll fight.”

The group turned to her and all chimed in with disagreement, “Baby girl have you seen her? She’s gonna break your heart. I’ll have her instead.” The fox-eyed dancer added. The team laughed in unison as they got ready for the Performance Battle, putting aside their curiosity for the stranger.

[aza-writes]

All Night

Hogwarts Parties Series

Draco Malfoy x reader, Past Harry Potter x reader

Requested: no

Summary: Reader invites her boyfriend, Draco, to a Gryffindor party. What happens when she means to put on a little show for Draco, but Harry enjoys it a bit too much himself? 

Warnings: alludes to smut, actual smut, dirty talk, Draco’s hands, vague description of a female body, drug use mention. Use of y/n

A/N: This was my therapy. Also, I watched the “10 Things I Hare about You” table dance scene sooo many times prepping for this. Also, this is my first smut so feedback is welcomed. The use of drugs relates to upcoming fics, all a part of a mini non-related series that focuses on parties at Hogwarts, so Hufflepuffs smoke, grow, and sell while Slytherin is their top seller. It’s like that TikTok trend from March. 

Gif: @love-above

Draco’s POV

Never in a million years did I think I would be at a Gryffindor party, nor would I fall in love with a Gryffindor who would invite me to a Gryffindor party.  Nonetheless, here I am, sipping on fire whisky as a mix of red and yellow figures swirl around me, but none of them matter. What matters is the giggling girl in front of me holding a ⅔ full bottle of fire whisky with her house tie wrapped around her head. And I only had a glass and a half, and she’s managed to drink the rest by herself. And no, she can not hold her liquor well. 

Even now, when we are standing close to the wall, she swayed her hips while singing along to the muggle song blasting throughout the common room, only stopping momentarily to take a swig out of the bottle. She manages to capture the attention of every guy in the room, yet she doesn’t notice. All she cares about is knowing all the words to the song, and when she doesn’t, she drinks. But I can’t even concentrate on that. All I can see is her tight, low-rise jeans that barely sit above her hips and a shirt that exposes her whole midsection. She loves the attention, and she thrives in it. No wonder she’s in Gryffindor. 

“Drayyy,” she turns around and gives me puppy dog eyes, “let's go dance! Come dance with me!” She takes a swig out of the fire whisky bottle, allowing the alcohol to give her even more confidence than she already had, causing an “I can do or say anything” mentality. 

“I’m not sure, darling; I think they’ll boo me off the dance floor.” 

Y/n frowns at this. “But yoou dance at the Sslytherinn oness.” She then wraps her arms around my neck, never stopping the movement of her hips. “Please dance with me, Dray.” 

“In a minute, my love, I need a bit more of anything in my system before I have a fraction of your courage.” 

She sticks out her tongue like a child and returns to a dopey, drunk smile before sloppily kissing me. “Okay, baby-” As soon as she was about to say something else, she pauses. She focuses hard, then gasps. “Draco! This is my song! I’m dancing with or without you.” Before I could answer, she heads off to the dancefloor. 

Y/n meets up with her friend, whose braids have appropriately incorporated red and yellow, and dances with her. More accurately, dances on her. I’m mesmerized as her hips sway to the beat, and she uses the bottle as a microphone. I don’t even recognize the song, but y/n doesn’t miss a word, even in her drunken state. 

I’m amused at her little dance and have gathered enough courage to go out and dance with her when I notice her eyes light up as the lyrics sing, “What’s wrong with right here on the counter?” Right next to her is a table that previously hosted a beer pong tournament that now sits vacant. It was like Merlin was speaking to her, telling her exactly what she had to do next. Before I could even register what was happening, with fire whisky in hand, y/n climbed onto the table and began dancing again. 

With her new stage, she gained a lot more attention. She never missed a beat, her hands, head, and hips moving in sync. As the cheers grew, so did her confidence, allowing her to do even more provocative moves. But her eyes never landed on the many boys and girls around her. No, they landed on me every second they could. And her attention enough to pull me in. 

I stride over to the table, starting to feel the effects of the fire whisky slowly sink into my system. I worm my way through the crowd, pushing people out of my way to get to the edge of the table. If this is a show for me, I want a front-row seat. 

She runs her hands over her body, keeping eye contact with me as she performs for her whole house. She throws her hair back and swirls her hips around, all aimed at me. As the first chorus comes to an end she raises the bottle to her lips and sings along. 

She keeps me up

“I keep you up!” 

She keeps me up

“I keep you up!” This time, it wasn’t just y/n but the whole common room. 

All night

“All night!”

All night

“All night!” 

As I watch her begin to dance to the second verse, I can’t help but notice one figure across the table. Staring right up at my girlfriend, my y/n, was fucking Potter. His mouth was gaped open, mesmerized at her movements. Usually, I wouldn’t be that upset; most people realize y/n is mine and back off immediately, understanding they are just making trouble for themselves. But this is different because it’s Potter, my enemy Potter, or even worse, y/n’s ex-boyfriend Potter. 

He’s so enamored with her that he doesn’t even realize I’m glaring daggers at him, but y/n notices. She looks down at me, realizing my attention isn’t on her. She follows my gaze, landing on Potter. When she makes eye contact with him he blushes, knowing he's been caught. I expected him to stop staring at her and go anywhere else, but no. All he does is smile and wave at her. 

Potter fucking smiles and waves. 

At MY y/n.

Y/n continues to dance, making her moves flow to the beat, but instead of her eyes on me, she keeps them on Potter. My jealousy forces me to keep my eyes on Potter too, watching his reaction to my girlfriend dancing. Fucking Potter couldn’t be bothered by me. He doesn’t care about how he’s staring at another man’s girlfriend. 

I’m so consumed by jealousy that y/n’s face across from mine startles me a bit. She’s all I can see. She places her hand on my chin and forces me to look at her. 

“Hi.” She smiles, her eyes glimmering with mischievous and lustful intent. 

“Hello, darling.” I can feel my face and eyes soften while looking at hers. There’s something about her, I can’t tell if it calms me down or riles me up. 

She winks at me then gets back up and dances again. She then returns her attention to me, no longer looking at Potter. Her eyes trained on mine. Her dance moves were intentional. It wasn’t until the song ended that she got off the table. The crowd that formed around her started cheering and going wild at her performance. They whistled and begged for “just one more song!” Despite everyone around her cheering, my eyes fall on Potter’s. 

He doesn’t even notice I’m there until y/n stands next to me and kisses my cheek. The whole Gryffindor common room becomes a bit quieter upon seeing me in there. I’ve been able to go unnoticed until now. Everyone just stares at me, giving me confused and disgusted looks. I’m unsure how to feel. I don’t even care. I didn’t come to insult them or to cause trouble, I came for y/n. 

She kisses my cheek again and turns my head to look at her, wrapping her arms around my neck. Instinctively my hands landed on her waist. I can feel the heat radiating off her arms. The heat of our bodies was circling between us two. 

Between kisses on my cheek, neck, and nose she giggles and says “How did you like it?” 

“I liked it when you were looking at me.” 

“Really? Cause you paid more attention to me when I looked at Potter.” She moves her arms from around my neck to hold my hand and leads me away from the middle of the room and up to her dorm and away from the scowls in my direction. 

I pause, unsure of what to say. Was this her plan? I knew she was trying to make me jealous with Potter but did she know I would become this upset? Did she know I would react this way? 

“You tricky little minx.” It’s all I can manage to say, especially when she starts to run her hands over my arms, wiggling my jacket off my shoulders. 

Y/n still faces me as she opens the door behind her back. “You weren’t watching me, so I made you.” She brings her leg up and kicks the door in with one foot, walking backward into the room as she pulls me by the collar of my jacket. As soon as the door is closed she fully takes my jacket off my body, then slowly unbuttons my shirt. 

“Like I said, tricky little thing aren’t you?” I let out a small chuckle at her boldness. Typical Gryffindor, in all the right ways.

“I know what I want, what I want is your attention.” She turns us around and pushes me onto the bed, my shirt fully unbuttoned. She smiles at me as she strips off her shirt, discarding it somewhere in the room. I couldn’t be bothered to look where it went though, my eyes were trained on y/n’s. 

“You have it love, I couldn’t imagine taking it off of you.” 

A little smile pops up on her face, a light blush creeps across her cheeks. She unbuttons her jeans, pulls them down, and steps out. “Good boy.” She climbs onto my lap and sits herself down. Instinctively my hands land on her hips, gripping tightly to ensure she doesn’t leave my sight. “You’ll keep being a good boy for me, right baby?” 

“I need to be a good boy?” She nods. “You’re the one that needs to be taught to behave. Showing off like that in front of Potter.” 

“Oh yeah?” She giggles lightly. 

“Yes darling, now be my good girl and lay down on the bed.” 

Her smirk stays as she gets up from my lap and onto the bed, resting against the perfectly propped-up pillows. “Only for you.”

I step out of my pants as I climb onto the bed. It only takes a light tap on y/n’s calf for y/n to prop her legs up and spread them. She’s still wearing the smirk on her face, naughty little thing thinks she’s won. 

“Since I danced for you, you should dance for me.” She giggles a bit. Poor girl thinks she’s going to get away with her little stunt that easily is she? 

I let out a small chuckle, not wanting her to know my true intentions for tonight. I waste no time with my plan and kiss the inside of her thighs. Even though I want the plan to start quickly, the plan is nothing but fast. This will be a very, very long night. I slowly kiss the inside of her thighs, slowly inching toward her pussy. Her breath hitches. One heel drags down the length of the bed before going back up to its prompt-up position. 

I kiss closer and closer to her clit, teasing around it. Y/n’s moans turn lighter, airier. Her hands drift down and grip my hair. I sit up and pull away, causing y/n to whine. 

“I didn’t give you permission to touch me, darling. Only good girls get to and you were so, so naughty tonight. Do you understand?” I look up at her lightly, her smirk and any pride drops. All she does is nod, I need more. “Use your words, princess.”

Her eyes turn soft, making puppy dog eyes at me. “Yes, I’m sorry.” The way she gave in too quickly isn’t enough. She’s planning on doing something again. She hasn’t learned, she’s only saying that to get her way—such a naughty girl. 

“No, that isn’t going to cut it.” I get up, causing her to whine even more, such a pathetic slut. “Stop it, or don’t. Depends on if you want to get punished. I can not make you cum tonight if that’s what you want.” That got her attention. She shakes her head, worry fills her eyes. “That’s what I thought.” 

I walk to the top of the bed and rip the Gryffindor tie off her head. “Hands.” She immediately puts her wrists together above her head. I love how submissive she becomes. She projects such a confident, independent persona that all crashes down as soon as I call her a good girl. Merlin, I fucking love it. 

I wrap her wrist tight on the headboard, making sure she can’t get out but wanting to avoid unnecessary pain. 

“Use your words, darling.” I stand at the end of her bed, facing her. “What do you want me to do to you?”

“Touch me Draco.” She keeps her eyes on me and raises her voice a bit more, trying to keep some control. 

I smirk at her, causing her to let down her guard again. “Such a confident girl, yet you can’t ask me properly how you want me to fuck you. If you just want me to touch you I can put my clothes back on and we can cuddle all night, but I think you want more.” I get on the bed, placing my hands on either side of y/n, hovering over her. “What do you want?” 

“Fuck me.” there’s a pause. I’m waiting for a complete response. She knows better. “P-please.” 

I kiss her softly. As I pull away I gently bite and pull her bottom lip a bit before letting go. “Good girl.” 

I sit up and grab my wand from the pocket of my jacket and point it at the door. “Muffilato. Colloportus.” I set my wand back where it was then hover back over y/n. “I don’t think any of your friends downstairs will notice with all the noise, but just in case.” I slowly crawl down to the edge of the bed, returning to my previous position. I kiss around her pussy again, inching closer and closer to her clit but carefully avoiding it. “ I want you as loud as possible for me.” 

She nods, but it’s cut off by her throwing her head back as I lick a long stripe up the length of her folds. Although I’m getting some sort of reaction, the lack of noise from her is very upsetting. I am the first one to admit it, I’m greedy when it comes to this. I need her screaming and shaking by the end of this. 

I move one of y/n’s legs so her thigh sits on top of my shoulder, giving me a better angle of her soaked pussy. She’s glistening at this point. Her buzzed state amplifies the teasing, making every touch linger longer. 

Every time my nose brushes against her clit, a loud, resounding moan leaves her mouth. Her eyes closed tight and she yanks on her tie, trying to escape the makeshift binding. 

After teasing her clit for a while, leaving small kisses on it then going back to tongue fucking her pussy, she squirms a bit. 

“Dray, please.” She swallows. “I need more. Quit teasing.” 

I sit up, causing her to whine even more at the loss of contact. “I’m sorry darling, I thought you said you would be good for me?” I lightly bite the inside of her thigh, instigating more little yelps and whines from y/n. 

“You’ll get what I think you deserve.” I bite the inside again, this time a little higher up. “Besides, you’re clearly enjoying this. Even though your thighs are covering my ears, I can hear every little sound you make.” I slap the outside of her thigh and make her open up her legs again. She complies almost instantly, and I go back to devouring every inch of her I can get my mouth on; this time though, I pay a bit more attention to her clit. 

She continues to pull on the restraint and buck her hips up. I had to result in holding her hips down tight against the bed so I could continue. 

She’s lucky I love her or I wouldn’t put up with this defiance. 

But she knows I like the cat and mouse just as much as she does. 

Her eyes stay shut tight as I suck on her clit and slide one finger into her dripping pussy. I curl my fingers before she gets to adjust to the new sensation. After only a few seconds, I slowly pump my fingers while feverishly sucking on her clit. Her moans went from soft and quiet to loud and breathless. Her brain is turning to mush as her walls tighten around my fingers. She’s close, but I want her on the edge. I want her on the cusp before I finally…

There it is. 

I pull my fingers out and detach my lips from her clit. She whines again, trying her hardest to buck her hips up to get some form of contact. I kiss along the inside of her thighs and up her torso, giving extra attention to her hip bones and in between her breasts.

I can feel her breath becoming increasingly rapid, her chest rising and falling faster. Little whines escape her lips as I leave hickeys all over her breast, collarbone, and neck. There wasn’t a surface unmarked when I made it to her lips. 

I pull away, making her whine even more. I go back to marking up her neck. “You won’t cover these up tomorrow. I want everyone to see them.” She nods as I suck on the spot behind her ear that makes her weak every time. “A painting just for Potter to see.” 

I can feel myself growing harder inside my boxers. Y/n can feel it too dragging against her thigh, or I assume so from the groans she lets out whenever I accidentally brush my hips against her. Even I can’t help myself from letting out a groan. 

I can’t wait any longer, I need to be in her. 

I pull away from her, shoving my underwear off before she even has the chance to complain. I get back on top of her and smash my lips onto hers. She smirks during the kiss, I do too a bit. I slip my tongue in gently as I ease myself into her dripping pussy. I hand my head down and moan, relieved to finally be inside her. Her high-pitched moans bring me so much confidence, it’s a nice ego boost knowing I get this reaction out of her. 

After giving y/n some time to adjust, I start to thrust slowly. 

As much as I love the control and dominance I have over y/n I want her hands clinging to me. I can’t just untie her hands and let her think she can be bratty whenever she wants. Right now, I would kill for her nails scratching my hair and down my back. I need the sting that mixes with the pleasure. As much as she needed my hands on her, I need hers on me right now. 

“Fuck it.” I reach up and untie her hands. Thankfully, she immediately brings her hands to the nape of my neck, letting her nails scratch my scalp and a little down my back. That little action intensifies the moment. Her hands know exactly what to do. I can feel them scratch down my back, causing me to let out a loud grunt and go faster. Her moans continue, each one ringing and lingering in my ears, my head. 

I can feel my hips faltering, stuttering with every thrust. I’m getting close, so is y/n. I lift one leg up to rest on my hip, letting me reach a better angle. 

“Dray,” her voice is so airy, “I-I’m so close.” 

“Me too darling,” I pick up my pace even more, “let go for me.” 

Almost instantly, she does. She squeezes around me and arches her back as she cums all over my cock. With two more thrusts, I cum as well. I stay in that position for a few seconds before carefully pulling out. As I do, y/n takes a long deep breath in. She only releases it when I lay down next to her. 

“I love you Draco.” I turn to look at her, her chest rising and falling, working hard to catch her breath. 

“I love you too darling.” I lean over and kiss her head. “I love you so, so much.” 

I get up to try and to get something to clean her up with, but she pulls me back into the bed. 

“Just,” she takes another deep breath, “Just stay here, with me.” 

I just nod. I don’t know what else to do, this moment is so perfect. I have everything I’ll ever need whenever I’m with her. Right here, right now must be the definition of heaven. She is my heaven. 

Taglist:

@alinefrank

[coucouatoi]

we're not who we used to be | h.s.

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Summary: Some letters you've written but never sent to Harry over the years.

Warnings: Angst... so much... there's some fluff, emphasise on the some, there's a hopeful ending tho!

A/N: Sooo this is the childhood friends to strangers fic no one asked for... Hope you all enjoy! This is my writing debut in Harry land :)

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

April 10' 2010

To: Harry Styles From: Your first fan

Hiya Harry,

It's currently 11:29 pm about 10 hours away from your audition. I figured since you told me to stop praising you and boosting your ego, I'm writing down the rest of the things I want to say.

Firstly, I know you're going to smash it! All the judges are going to want you in. There's no chance that they won't see how special you are, how you're the next big thing.

I won't let you back out of it last second! Anne, Gemma and I are ready to drag you onto the stage, we've discussed it thoroughly...

Secondly, I'm already so proud of you. This is a huge step, I know how nervous you are about it. How you think that everything is going to go wrong and that you'll fail. I've got enough hope in you for the both of us. I'll stand by your side the whole time and I'll cheer the loudest.

To finish, you're Harry Styles. You can do anything.

Break a leg superstar!!

Cheering you on already,

Your first-ever fan

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

December 12' 2010

To: Harry Styles From: Your biggest fan

Harry!

You've made it all the way to the finals! It's crazy! I knew you could do it but seeing you go further and further has been surreal.

I hope you and the other boys get along well! We haven't had much chance to really gossip about it all, you seem excited with them!

The finale is set to start in about 2 hours and I had to get some emotions out (my mom was tired of hearing them... rude) Anyway! I remembered that I had written you a letter a few months ago and now I'm back in this notebook.

I'm so nervous, excited and kind of nauseous about watching the last episode tonight. I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now... You must be so scared but incredibly jittery!

I'm counting the days until I get to see you again! I want to hear everything that's happened behind the scenes! You know how nosy I am!

I've already taken up two pages so I'll stop for now.

You can do this!

Talk to you soon,

Your favourite person ever

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

March 7' 2011

To: You From: Me <3

You called me Angel today...

I don't know what to make of that.

I had so many butterflies in my stomach.

Could you call me that again?

You're my favourite person,

Angel

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

November 20' 2011

To: Harry From: Angel

Boo!

You finally let me listen to the full album today! Said you had to be there when I listened to it so you could give me all the secrets. You also wanted to see live how I reacted to every song. You're too cute.

"I Want" is my current favourite.

You did tell me that you'd resonated with a lot of the lyrics you sang on this album. That almost scares me.

How did you relate? Who was going through your mind?

You do have the world at your feet now. I shouldn't feel jealous but I do like having you all to myself. Don't worry I'll get used to sharing...

The Up All Night Tour is starting soon! I'm happy that you've invited me to come to some shows. I'll be there no matter if I have to miss school.

I have to show all these newbies that I'm THE biggest Harry Styles fan out there!

Hopefully, you thought about me while signing.

Because I think about you all the time,

Your favourite fan.

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

April 13' 2012

To: Harry From: Angel

G'Day Mate!

So you're officially all the way in Australia now! That's so exciting I wish that you could have stuffed me into your suitcase... sniff

I bet it's super warm there! Or not wait their seasons aren't the same as ours, are they? I'm not even sure...

Hopefully, you can tan a little while you're there! Don't go near any animals or insects!!

I miss you a lot, maybe I'll send this one (spoiler I definitely won't).

Talk to you soon hopefully.

Go swim in the ocean,

Someone who wants to be in it

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

August 29' 2012

To: Harry From: Angel?

You haven't come to see me since you've been back.

Too busy being a celebrity?

I've been seeing all these tabloids... I'm not allowed to be jealous I know but I miss you.

I hope you've missed me.

I really really wish you were here with me or that I was with you wherever you are now.

I just want to be us.

Have you forgotten your friend from the small town already?

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

January 1' 2013

To: Harry From: Someone You've Hurt

I don't know what to think,

You kissed me. It made me happy.

You said it was a New Year's kiss.

You said you drank too much, it hurt.

You ended up kissing someone else about 20 minutes later.

That hurt even more it almost made me feel used.

I'm happy you were my first kiss.

I don't think you'll even remember it,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

November 27' 2014

To: Harry From: Me

I love the new album, took me a while to finally listen to it. I thought you'd come home and make me listen to it in your presence.

You didn't. The first album that I've listened to alone.

Spaces and Fools Gold are my favourite songs. I wonder how many lyrics you resonate with. How many of them did you write?

Come home?

Only for a day please,

Your first Angel

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

October 21' 2015

To: Harry From: Y/N

It's been a while,

It's your mom's birthday today. Well only for a few more hours...

She invited my family and me to the party, and of course we went. I didn't think you'd be there. I haven't seen you in almost a year.

It was fun.

Catching up about everything that's been going on with you and the band. Your life is so much more interesting than mine now.

I'm just a boring college student... you're this huge star but that's ok there's no one like you for me, you're my safe place. No matter how far away.

You asked about my love life and I told you about the date I had a few days ago. You asked if we had sex, I lied and said yes. I didn't want to embarrass myself by telling you no one's ever been with me like that.

We ended up getting drunk. Too drunk.

We fucked.

You took my virginity and you have no idea... should I tell you? You were so good. So gentle, loving but you fucked with a purpose, you needed to get off. I won't ever see your childhood bedroom the same way.

This was only a few hours ago.

I've felt every emotion about it. Now I'm crying because I know you'll find someone new to share a bed with. I'm just a notch in your headboard.

It meant everything to me.

But I think I regret it...

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

May 12' 2017

To: You From: Me

Really?

I hope Only Angel isn't about me.

But I'm overanalysing every single song. Is one about me? Did you think of me while making this album?

We haven't talked since the last time we saw each other. When we fucked again. It wasn't even the second time, after your mom's birthday two years ago we never stopped. It's all we do when we see each other.

It doesn't make me feel all that much better but I feel like if it wasn't for that we wouldn't even know each other anymore.

I'm moving away this year. Got a job offer in Canada and I'm taking it.

Maybe I'll get over you... hopefully.

I can't live my whole life waiting for someone who I don't know anymore.

I'm blocking your number.

I miss who we used to be,

Your first-ever fan

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

December 4' 2019

To: H From: Y/N

Hello,

You've crawled your way back into my life, Harry. This morning, you decided to send me your album. Your new one, Fine Line. Your fans haven't even heard it yet. The public hasn't either.

You didn't write a single thing in your email, the mp3 link was staring me down with your automated signature. Not even a greeting.

I shouldn't have listened to it.

I don't know why you sent it to me. We haven't spoken or crossed paths in over a year. Not since I moved and tried to get rid of every way of contact between us.

I still haven't answered, I don't think I will.

You don't get to know what I feel about it. Not anymore.

I'm sorry Harry.

I've moved on,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

December 13' 2019

To: H From: Y/N

Your new album came out today.

I'm proud of you even if we are strangers now.

You're a superstar.

I always knew you would be,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

March 17' 2020

To: H From: Y/N

I saw that you had to postpone your tour.

You must feel so defeated.

I know I do. Everything's been closed and opened and closed again here in Canada. It's getting exhausting.

I hope the world starts working again soon.

This all sucks...

Crossing my fingers for the tour,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈���┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

May 18' 2022

To: Harry From: Y/N

Hi,

You sent me the album before the release again.

This time you did say something: I miss you Angel, Can we meet up?

I didn't think I could feel so many butterflies in my stomach. I felt like a teenager again. And I cried more than once listening to Harry's House.

I'm still considering if I should answer... if I do what should I choose? Should I agree and go into the unknown or forget it happened and keep on going with my life?

I miss you too... the one I knew. Not the one who used me. I guess I used you too... How did we get here?

All I want is to be loved and to be in love.

I'm not sure if I'm ready for the hurt this will bring but maybe I should just be a grown-up about this...

I want you back in my life.

That scares me,

Y/N

╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮

August 16' 2022

To: Harry From: Y/N

Well,

I'm going to the Love On Tour today and after we are going to "meet". We even have until the 20th because that is when your next show is, after today obviously.

You were so excited when I agreed.

It's almost as if no time has passed when we text (he changed his number in the last few years... no need for an embarrassing unblocking).

My friend, the one who convinced me to agree, helped me pick out an outfit. Thankfully for her, I won't stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd of feather boas and cowboy hats.

I really want this to work.

I want to believe that we can be good again. We can be healthy for one another again but I'll be worried until I see you.

Until we speak.

I won't let myself touch you, I have a feeling that it would be far too easy to fall back into a bed. Maybe a hug would be okay.

I'm excited for the show, to see the Superstar Harry Styles in action. After so many years you have to have evolved so much.

You aren't little Harry from Worcestershire anymore.

I'm not the same person I once was either.

See you tonight.

Break a leg,

Y/N

[pasteidolons]

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 ||𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳𝔦𝔦

genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, hong jisoo, xu minghao, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, major character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 11.3k

taglist: @reiofsuns2001, @hipsdofangirl, @lovrehani

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳𝔦 || 𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

𝔍𝔞𝔫𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 7𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔧𝔦𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Ultimately, it is decided that Kun’s fleet will head to Cholsan while Wong’s army will march to Yangdeok. In the cold of winter, you leave Ongjin and head into the surrounding forest. Gentle drifts of snow cascade from the gray sky above, settling into your hair and atop Jihoon’s shoulders as he walks quietly, solemnly, forward. A songbird or two calls out in the silence of the forest, your eyes spotting their bright feathers as they darts in and out of your sight, soon to be left in the memory of the moment.

In front of you, Jihoon stops. His footprints in the snow come to a halt, the crunch of the ground under him stilling as you find yourself pausing to match his movement., “I can’t take you this time. You’re staying here.”

“What?” You ask, almost at a loss for words. You’d come this far together, surely there isn’t anything now that can part the two of you., “But why? Where is this coming from?”

Jihoon turns so you aren’t questioning his back, and you meet his gaze. He looks… sad, if you had to articulate it. A hollowness in his eyes that hadn’t been there when you left the city earlier. 

“There’s going to be a lot of fighting. You should get away from that. No reason for you to stick with us anymore, right? I know Youngmin, Eunseok and Chan asked you to take care of me. But I’m sure you’ve fulfilled your promise in its entirety. If you were to die in the mess of this war then I’ll be the one that gets scolded by them in the afterlife.” His voice quiets, “I think it’s time you cut us loose.”

“No!” The outburst rips from your throat before you can even think of a more eloquent response. Now that your father’s passed, there isn’t anything to justify staying with the Hwarang but… Your heart yearns to be with Jihoon.  

“Jisoo’ll probably be coming after me soon, but I can take him. You don’t need to worry about that.” 

“That’s not it!” Once again you find yourself almost yelling. “I don’t want to stay just because I think I need to be protected from him!”

He sighs, looking as if he’s dealing with a fussy toddler. “Come on, don’t be like that… I can’t make you happy.” 

Your eyes go wide, your voice shaking when you speak, “... I don’t need to be happy. All I want to do is fight alongside the Hwarang. I want to follow the same path you do.” There was never an ulterior motive for staying alongside him. “Please, I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“Well, I’m touched that you feel that way, but I want you to be happy. Without being with us.” He isn’t saying this to just make you feel better. You feel the sincerity behind his words. And you’re happy to know he cares, but it pains you just as much. 

“These are orders from the Hwarang’s Chief.” He looks you in the eye, his voice flat and cold. “You would impede the function of the Hwarang, and therefore will not accompany us to Pyongyang.

The air is sucked from your lungs and your heart skips a beat. You feel the blood drain from your face and your hands begin to tremble. 

“You’re a woman, and you deserve to have your own life. I can’t let us tie you down anymore.” 

Hearing that, all of the power in your body leaves you, and you fall to your knees in the snow underfoot, “Jihoon… Please wait…” You want so badly to scream this at him, but your voice no longer feels like your own.

“Take care. That is all.” The minute he turns his back on you, you know it isn’t good. It’s clear that he really intends to leave you behind and you can’t even lift a finger to stop him. 

He’s getting further and further away, his footsteps crunching in the snow. It was him who you’d been running after since the battle in Seorabeol… A man that, up to now, was working on chipping the distance between you, bit by bit. 

“I don’t want this!” You scream out, forcing your voice to be heard. But Jihoon walks as if he doesn’t hear you. “Lee Jihoon!” Even calling out his name doesn't make him stop. And eventually, you can’t see his back anymore.  

Minutes pass and you remain in a defeated stupor on the ground. It feels as if something inside of you has crumbled. You’ve been chasing after Jihoon this whole time… but he’s someone who only moves forward. His whole life was lived by keeping his pain sealed away, but never once did he leave you behind. He would always give you the chance to cling onto him.

Now you understand that there aren’t any more chances to gather yourself, or run after him, or any other childish endeavor to bring you closer. He has deemed no further use of you and severed the ties that burden his duty. 

“Ah… Excuse me…” A quiet voice speaks up behind you, and you turn to see who it is. “I’m sorry but I heard everything,” Wong Kunhang inches toward you,  “I apologize for eavesdropping, but there didn’t seem to be a good moment for me to admit I was here.” He coughs awkwardly and hands you a small piece of cloth to wipe your face. 

He waits for you to calm down before he begins to speak again, “You want to stay with him, I take it? Then… Will you wait for us? We’re settling down in Yangdeok before our attack on Pyongyang… So, can you wait until then?”

“What do you mean…?” 

“Once we’ve settled in, I can send for you. I mean, I can hardly leave you crying here alone!”

“General Wong…” Your mouth hangs open.

“Oh, you don’t need to thank me. Once you get to Yangdeok, I’ll assign you to Lee. It won’t be easy work, but at least you’ll be with him.”

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 14, 667 – 𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔢𝔬𝔨, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 You get your summons right after Yangdeok falls to Kunhang’s forces. Yangdeok, to the Silla and Tang armies, has been seen as Goguryeo’s last city to topple before moving forth to Pyongyang to its west. 

“It’s good to see you again!” Kunhang calls out to you, waving his arms in the air to summon you closer. 

“Thank you so much for arranging all of this,” You say as you gather your bags together and walk over to him, “And congratulations on your victory here.”

“My victory is a bit of an exaggeration,” he says, “Lee put in a lot of work too. As soon as we finished deciding on the new council, I sent for you.”

“The new council?” 

“Yeah,” he nods enthusiastically, “With the effort going to close in soon, we decided to pull our forces together and combine the northern armies and southern armies to collapse on Pyongyang. Qian Kun is our general now, he knows enough about the Silla and Tang armies to combine us together.”

You learn that Kunhang has been elected the Army Minister, and Jihoon has been named the Assistant Army Minister. 

“You had to wait a while, I understand.” Kunhang frowns apologetically, “Was it too long?”

“It could have been shorter,” You say halfway joking and halfway serious. 

Still, the fact that they’re this close to pushing inward says something to the end of this war. Despite the losses you’ve accrued, this is a glimmer of hope. 

“Ever since we got to Yangdeok, Jihoon’s been… different.” Kunhang notes your confused expression and continues, “He’s nicer to the men, which is good, but he spends too much time locked away in his room. Says he spends most of his time in deep thought and won’t let anyone come by.” He sighs, shaking his head, probably wondering what to do with the man before reaching into his pack and removing a piece of parchment. “I think he needs you,” a smile graces his lips and he hands the paper to you.

“Me?” You question, taking it from him.

“This document officially appoints you to your position. You can get the details after you give it to Jihoon.” 

It takes a while, but you muster up the courage to go into the main hall of where the leaders of the army are staying. Yet, Jihoon isn’t among them, he’s in his room, alone. After inquiring about where his room is, you find yourself standing before it.

You take a deep breath and rap your hand against the door several times. After a few silent seconds, a tired voice drifts out, “I’m not attending… This isn’t the time for a party.”

Without saying anything you push open the door. Jihoon turns toward the door, preparing a half-hearted tirade for whoever had decided to intrude on his solitude. When he sees you, the words freeze in his throat.

“Reporting as ordered, sir.” You say, standing straight, “I have been assigned to serve as Assistant Army Minister Lee Jihoon’s page… by Army Minister Wong Kunhang.”  

His mouth works soundlessly for a moment, finally closing with a snap. He stares at you incredulously for several more seconds before frowning, “It’s a mistake. I haven’t been told about this.”

You pull out the letter that Kunhang had given you and hand it to him, “I received these orders from him earlier.”

Jihoon’s hand snatches the letter and he scans the page rapidly, his frown deepening with each line. When he finishes he shoots you a sharp look and thrusts the letter back into your empty hands, “No. Take it back. I don’t approve of these orders.”  

“I understand…” You sigh out, looking at the paper now in your grasp before tearing it into pieces. 

“What are you doing?” His eyes widen in shock.

“I don’t care if you won’t approve these orders,” you let the pieces fall to the ground, “I shouldn’t have relied on them in the first place.” You hadn’t taken the letter because you wanted to be in Yangdeok, you accepted Kunhang’s help and came here because you want to be with Jihoon. That’s all that matters. “I came here because I wanted to. I want you to let me stay. Here. With you.” 

It’s his choice.

“Not fair for me to be the only guy with the luxury of a girl for a page. Especially when I’m sending men off to die.”

“Is… Is that why you left me?”

Jihoon falls silent and shifts uncomfortably. 

“Stop this!” You find yourself yelling, and Jihoon looks equally surprised. “You always do this! You decide you can’t do something, then you make up all the excuses you need to justify it! You say you’re doing it for my feelings without even knowing my feelings!”

When he’d left you behind, he said that he couldn’t make you happy– that you should go on and live your life. But he is what makes you happy, and you want to live your life with him. Now he’s trying to push you away again so that he can bear this burden alone. You can’t let him do that.

“You take on so much and you won’t let anyone help!” Tears sting at the corners of your eyes as you try and make him see the errors of his ways. 

He crosses his arms, “That’s my job. If I can handle it, then it’s my responsibility to!”

“What about the people who have to watch you do this?!” You’d watched him torture himself this way for far too long… Every hardship, every burden, is his and his alone to suffer with. And you haven’t been the only one to witness this. “I can’t let you do this to yourself! I want to be here for you! I want to help you! What else am I supposed to do?!”

With a sigh he falls silent, “I give up.”

You blink, furrowing your brow as you have no idea what he’s referring to. 

“Can’t fight a country girl… Better to just listen to them, I guess.” His voice is gentle as he looks up with a wry smile. You then find his arms wrapped around you. As unexpected as it is, you let yourself sink into his embrace. He holds you tightly, almost as if now that he finally has you, he doesn’t want to ever let you go.

“Ever since you left…” He murmurs before pausing, and you can sense him trying to organize his feelings. “I’ve figured some things out,” he squeezes you a bit tighter, “you… supported me. Guess that’s the best way to put it.” As he speaks, he sounds slightly bewildered, as if he can’t believe what he’s saying. “When you’re not here… It’s hard for me to deal with it. All of it. Life, I guess.” With each word, your heart swells warmly in your chest. Each word descends like the snowflakes outside, gently gathering in your heart. 

“You saved me,” he whispers and you feel the warmth of his body touching every part of yours. You’re sure there’s tear stains on his uniform from where you’ve been pressing your face into his robes. “... Do you think the Hwarang still stands for what it means to be a true warrior? Have I done what I was supposed to? Have I led us down the right path?”

You nod, “The soul of the Hwarang that our friends believed in is alive in you. In fact, I think it’s stronger now… We’ve been through a lot but it’s brought all of us together.” 

His lips curl into a smile, “Hearing you say that makes me happy. The men that the Hwarang have left are true warriors. No more need for the iron fist.”

Everyone in the Hwarang now has the unity of vision that brings the clarity of purpose, hopefully meaning Jihoon’s burden will lessen a little.

“Well,” you say, “from now on, please don’t try and hide your problems from me. I’m here to help you. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.” 

He’s silent now, but his arms stay wrapped around you. You feel his hands grasp at your robes as his voice is barely above a whisper, “Stay with me…”

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 15, 667 – 𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔢𝔬𝔨, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The next morning, you’re greeted by familiar faces waiting for you in the main hall.

“Long time no see!” Junghwan smiles, “We were eagerly awaiting your return for a while now.”

“Junghwan, Dohoon…” You smile back at the two. 

“How was the dramatic reunion?” Dohoon pushes eagerly.

“What do you mean?” Your eyes widen, unable to answer him with a straight face as his face blushes with color. 

“Well, ever since Commander– er Chief– left your side, it looked like he just sank deeper and deeper into depression,” he says quickly, “It just made us realize how much he needs you by him.”

“And now the two of you can be together as much as you want to be!” Junghwan adds.

“Ah,” you feel heat rise to your cheeks, “Yes, well, I’m sure we can.”

“Oh?” You hear footsteps coming from down the hall, “I thought I heard a familiar voice. So, you’re in Yangdeok too…” 

“Seokmin!” Your eyes widen at the familiar face, “You’re safe!”

“Indeed,” he smiles weakly, glancing down to his bandaged forearm. Looking at the ruddy wraps, he shakes his head and looks back up at you,  “Sadly, I was injured in combat against some of the Goguryeo forces.” 

“He was appointed as the Infantry Head of the Kyongjong Unit during the last meeting,” Dohoon says quickly. 

“Really? That’s fantastic news! Congratulations, Seokmin.” 

“Thank you, but I don’t know how much I’ll be able to accomplish in this state, unfortunately.” You glance down to his bandaged left arm before looking back up to his face. “But for now, I am here, and all I can do is fight until the end beside Jihoon.”

“Seokmin…” 

“If there’s ever anything you need from me, don’t hesitate to ask. I will always support you and Jihoon.”

“Of course,” you smile at him, “Thank you.”

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 25𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔢𝔬𝔨, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 As Jihoon’s page, you spend every day assisting him in his duties. Since your arrival in Yangdeok, he’s seemed much more at ease during the daylight hours. Your job sees you spending more time around him than you ever had before. He’s actually begun treating you quite nicely. 

You feel a little bad that you’re getting spoiled, but whenever you’re around him, your heart pounds.

On one afternoon, some days after you’ve settled in to Yangdeok, Kunhang comes to visit Jihoon in his quarters.

“I’ve made tea,” you say as you set down the tray in front of the two sitting figures. 

“Thank you,” Kunhang smiles, gingerly picking up one of the cups before him and looking over to Jihoon, “Your assistant here is quite something. Tell me, where did you find her?”

“Well,” Jihoon leans back in his seat, “I think some big shot wannabe had her sent over here without my permission. You know anything about that?”

“Oh, I was doing it for your sake, you know. Although, I’m a bit jealous now” he sighs, “A cute, dedicated, efficient page… What man could ask anything more?”

“No, I’m… um….” You say quickly, frantically busying yourself with your tea. 

Jihoon glances at you for a moment, then back at Kunhang, his face calm and serene, “I agree… So long as she sticks with me, I don’t think I’ll ever need any other page.”

You nearly drop your tea at his statement. Kunhang also looks surprised, but raises his cup to his lips to hide it. 

You look for words to say but you can only hear the blood rushing to your head and feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“I, ah, didn’t think I’d hear something like that from you, Lee…” Kunhang muses, “I’d want a wife like her too.”

“Well she’s mine.” Jihoon says simply, “You’ll have to find one of your own because there’s no way I’m letting her go.”

Kunhang laughs, “Now you’re just rubbing it in.” You feel your face growing hotter by the second.”Well, with Jihoon in this sort of mood, I suppose I shouldn’t stay too long, hm?” With one last grin to you, he turns to Jihoon. “So, back to business… Do you think they’ll be mobilizing?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon nods, “As soon as the snow melts.”

“Well, if you think so too, then we should prepare to mobilize.” Kunhang sighs, “Kun says it will be a few more weeks before his ships can set out from Ongjin.” 

“There’ll be a fight once they reach Pyongyang’s harbor, that’s for sure,” Jihoon nods, “There’s no way they’d let us take it that easily.” 

“Of course,” Kunhang agrees, “We’ll need to reconvene to see what troops we can send to aid the navy.”

“Huh,” Jihoon muses, “Gotta admit, before we came here, I never thought you and I would see eye to eye.”

“I know, right?” The other smiles, “I was taken aback by you the first time we met.”

“And I was with you.” 

Kunhang laughs, “Well, I wasn’t born into a family of warriors…”

“Hey, me neither. My family were merchants before I was adopted.”

“Yet here we are, commanding respect as true warriors…” Kunhang nearly marvels at the fact, “A man can only be judged by the path he walks, not the name he bears, nor the house from which he comes. We chose to fight for what we believe in. That path led us here. That’s all there is to it.”

Jihoon and Kunhang are two very different people, but listening to his passion as he talks resonates with you as well. You were born into a family of Demons, but here you are. All your life, you thought you were human. Nothing more, nothing less. But the truth in this discovery gave you life beyond you thought you were, and they accepted you.

“Our ambition will never waver. We’ll fight to the end like we promised to.”

“Thank you for your time,” Kunhang says, setting his cup down. He nods to you and Jihoon before standing and excusing himself from the room. 

“They’re already going to fight?” You ask as you begin to clear the teacups.

“Come here,” Jihoon says, reaching out and taking your hand in his. He stands, gently pulling you towards the door outside. The wind is frigid, without your thick coat on it cuts you straight to the bone. “See that plain down there?” From the higher vantage you have, you see the rolling hills pour down into a sunken valley that spans as far as the eye can see.

“We’ll go down the plain and attack Pyongyang from there. Kun’s ships will come from the west and attack by sea. And if all is communicated correctly, the forces up north will converge on the city at the same time as us.”

“Then we’ve got to make sure we plan all of that out correctly, right?” You ask, “Sending troops in waves would only give them time to prepare for the next one.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon smiles, “If we can take Ajinham before they can fortify it well enough I’m hopeful we can end this before summer hits. The battle in Pyongyang will be my last. It will be the last place I draw my sword as a warrior.”

“Jihoon…” You’re desperate to talk about anything else. 

No sooner do you step back into the inviting warmth of his apartments does his expression suddenly shift. He lets out a grunt as you watch his Fury nature forcing itself to the fore. His hair shifts hue, his eyes turn red.

“Don’t worry,” he assures you weakly, “I’ve been doing pretty well since I got here. Looks like my body’s getting worse. Hope it’ll hold up until spring ends.” Does he mean that he’s ready to throw away his life so long as he lives to fight in one last battle?

“Please don’t say that,” you say, “Didn’t I tell you why I’m here?” Unfastening your collar, exposing the flesh of your neck, you step towards him, “Please don’t say you just want to live until spring. I need you to live longer than that. Much longer.”

“You’re a scary woman, you know that?” He smiles, although the pain twists it into a heart-wrenching grimace. His hands clasp your shoulders, and you feel his lips brush against your neck. “I haven’t tasted blood in a while,” Jihoon murmurs.

“You haven’t had any since you left?” His silence answers your question, “Why?”

You feel as if you know the answer, though. If he only cares about his body lasting until spring, then he likely hasn’t been taking care of it. 

“I suppose my blood must taste awfully good,” you chuckle, “Because, you know, I’m a Demon. In fact, it must be so good that you don’t want to drink anyone else’s blood.”

He lets out a snort of surprise, “Well maybe you’re right…”

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 2𝔫𝔡, 667 – 𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔢𝔬𝔨, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 You find Jihoon at his desk, his eyes fixed on a stack of documents, and you muster a troubled smile at him. This has been a familiar scene for whenever you find him, as it seems his work ethic is the same as it ever had been.

Even if you are worried that he’ll start to find you obnoxious, you place his teacup beside him as he writes furiously onto a piece of parchment.  

“The hell’s this?” He asks, not looking up from his work, “Don’t remember asking you for tea.” Jihoon scrunches his nose as he finally looks up to you as you flash him a bright grin. A sigh escapes him, “Don’t worry. I’m not tired. In fact, I’m starting to think I’m cut out for all this bureaucratic crap.”

“Well, it’s true that your duties here in your office are very important, but…” You hum, “It’s not like I can imagine a job or position that you wouldn’t be cut out for.”

“Of course you can. I hate public speaking, and even worse, I hate having to deal with emotional bullshit.” You suppose for him, a loathing profession never had gotten in the way of completing his duties. You’re certain that he has a knack for public speaking, let alone balancing the emotional stress that comes with managing a large group of soldiers. “So, it looks like I have to thank Kun and Kunhang for stomaching all of that shit so that I don’t have to.”

You chuckle at him, “Yes, but in return, you’re the one who’s in charge of managing all of the subordinates. Right?”

“Eh, win some, lose some. They’ve been calling me a Demon for so long, it’s kinda been throwing me off.” He shakes his head, “Hell, I don’t think you could pay me enough to bark at those idiots, or act like the Demon I used to.” His warm eyes glance toward you with an exceptional gleam, and it’s like he’s a completely different person from the man you met all those years ago in Seorabeol.

It’s true– Jihoon is no longer the Demon Commander and it seems like he’s discovered an inimitable truth: the practice of self-love is deeply fulfilling. 

“What’s the matter?” His gaze narrows, “Do I have something on my face?”

“I was wondering when people started calling you a Demon.”

“I guess it’ll come up sooner or later… Don’t get too excited, it's not that interesting…”

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 15𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔢𝔬𝔨, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Before Kun’s fleet is launched from Ongjin, a group is splintered off from the main army in Yangdeok and sent to the navy to aid in their future attack on Pyongyang. Kim Dohoon had volunteered to go and you received word on the thirteenth that the fleet had left port to set the offensive in motion. 

On the night of the news’ arrival, Jihoon holds a meeting into the late, late hours of the night.

“Our meeting is over,” Wonwoo says as he exits the meeting hall, looking to where you’ve been sitting patiently. 

“Thank you for telling me, Wonwoo,” you smile up at him. “I’m planning on bringing Jihoon something to eat, would you like anything?”

“Oh no, I’m quite alright.” He says glancing back to the room, “Although I think it best for you to hold off on your plans for now. I don’t want to worry you but Jihoon’s been in quite the foul mood after tonight’s meeting.”

For Wonwoo to be in such a dour mood must mean that whatever they'd discussed in there must have been truly serious.  

“It can’t be that bad, I’m used to being scolded…” You raise your head high and stand before his door. As you let yourself into his room, you see something that stops you dead in your tracks. Jihoon isn’t sitting in his usual spot. Instead, he’s sitting on the floor with an apprehensive expression. “I-I’m sorry. I, um, heard your meeting ended. If you’d like something to eat I can bring something up soon. What do you say?”

“Don’t want it. Not hungry.” He’s curt, and you can tell he’s irritable.

Although whatever was discussed in their meeting had been left in the meeting room, you can tell those heavy thoughts still swirl around his mind.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” You ask him.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve heard you say that,” he sighs, “I seriously have nothing to ask of you. Sorry for taking things out on you.” Now he turns his head upward to look at you with a sad smile, “When we first met, it drove me mad thinking that you and I couldn’t relate to anything at all. But now that you’re here, I can truly say that it makes me happy to have you here with me. I mean it.”

“Jihoon…?” 

“You’ve kept your eyes on me this whole time… Ever since we were in Seorabeol, in fact. If I think about it, you’re probably the person who’s seen me at my lowest.” He lets out a dry laugh, “It’s ironic, isn’t it? Thanks to you, I can remember. The weight of my burden… The reason every one of our friends sacrificed themselves. If it’s something as simple as rushing straight in, I can just handle that kind of stuff myself. But having you here with me as someone to talk me through doing something stupid makes me think twice. You’re my rock.”

He moves to his feet, walking over to the window cracked open to let cool air into the room, “Putting my life on the line isn’t something I have to think about, but it’s all about knowing the timing. You’ve helped me to come to this conclusion.”

“Then if my life’s purpose is to be there for you, then nothing could make me happier.”

Another laugh, “I’ve only caused you trouble. It’s too much of a burden to put on the shoulders of a woman like you.”

“I won’t let this bring me down… I’m your rock after all.”

“I see…” He hums, leaving the windowsill and slowly begins walking toward you. “I’ve changed my mind. I could use something to eat. Preferably your cooking.”

“Oh? Is there something in particular you’d like?”

“Surprise me,” he smiles, “Just make sure it’s good. Cook like the fate of the Hwarang is in your hands.” It’s as if the realization of your connection hits you suddenly, and you can’t help but grin madly.

With the threat of war looming on the horizon, you can sense that Jihoon’s mind will struggle to find itself at ease in the coming days. You take solace in knowing that you can give him just one moment of reprieve before whatever’s to come.

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 19𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔢𝔬𝔨, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Several days later, the town begins to welcome springtime. As you all had long anticipated, Kun’s ships make port in Cholsan but stay docked until given the word to advance on their enemy. Being a key member of these discussions of when to push forward, Jihoon is often pulled away from the Hwarang’s compound and Yangdeok in general, to a secret meeting place where it is believed all high ranking members of the Silla and Tang debate. You, on the other hand, have been ordered to remain in Yangdeok, the only thing you can do is wait patiently for his safe return.

The day that the men stoll back through the door is a happy one; Jihoon, Junghwan and Wonwoo stepping inside from the warmer day. 

“I’m so glad to see you all safe…” You aren’t sure what catches hold of you, but as soon as you catch sight of them, you feel your heart begin to swell and tears begin to prick at your eyes. 

“Such a crybaby,” Jihoon chuckles, “You know, pretty soon you’re going to dry up from all the tears you’re losing.” Despite his words, he stands next to you with a warm greeting.

“Have you heard from Dohoon?” You look at Junghwan, “I know the ships arrived in Cholsan a few days ago…” 

 Suddenly, everyone’s expressions drop.

Junghwan furiously bites his lip, “We received word that the troop of men he went with to Cholsan were ambushed somewhere along their route… There haven’t been any reports of survivors.” 

An altogether completely different emotion washes over you, the tears justifying themselves. This has been the first time since arriving in Yangdeok that you have to surrender yourselves to the news of another lost comrade, and your vision blurs for a moment.

“Dohoon had been dealing with the guilt of being unable to protect Youngmin for quite some time… If I recall,” Wonwoo closes his eyes, “it was his wish to greet the Chief with his head held proudly when he crossed over into the afterlife. Dohoon didn’t die a coward, so I believe that at the very least he accomplished that.”

Later that afternoon, as the sun begins to transition into red and orange hues, Jihoon summons you to his quarters. The light filters in on him as he sits at his desk, looking up at you as you enter.

“You’ve got time,” He says quietly, “Get as far away from here as you can. I can send you with a merchant’s caravan, I’ll get everything worked out. You don’t need to woot about a thing.”

You understand immediately what he’s trying to do. Jihoon knows the loss of war- does he not want you to get mixed into the crossfire?

“You can try and convince me all you want but I won’t budge… I want to stay. With you,” you say softly. Knowing everything he’s gone through, why would you leave him now? Besides, you’re sure if you hear of his passing in some far off, distant place, it would surely break you in two.

He lets out a breathy laugh that almost sounds more like a sigh of relief, “I figured you’d say that. You’re a real strange one.” You watch his eyes flick in miniscule directions as if he’s coming up with another plan.

“You’re worried about me, right?”

“Of course.” He says immediately.

“Well if you’re worried about me, then don’t let me out of your sight, okay? It’ll be your job to keep me safe.” You smile at him as his eyebrows raise in surprise. “And you can’t do that if you’re dead, can you? So, survive. To protect me.”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” he smiles at you, “I can’t let you die before I do.”

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 14𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔢𝔬𝔨, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 By the first of the month, you get news that Goguryeo is expecting the assault on Pyongyang. They began reinforcing their walls and reports say that many of the cityfolk fled the city in a want to not get caught in the fighting. 

Qian Kun reunites with his fleet in Cholsan, Junhi leads the men who have been assigned to navigate Kangdong Pass to reach Pyongyang, while Jihoon has been assigned to the men at Haegok Pass. You accompany Jihoon where you wait for the enemy’s resistance. 

Even though the snow has long since melted, the weather still gets quite cold at night. To rouse the men, Jihoon has brought several large jugs of yakju. 

“The battle’s going to start soon,” he says as he pours the men cups of liquor, “I’ll be counting on you guys. We can’t afford to rest, unfortunately, but I figured you could have something to warm you up. I’d like to give you guys as much as you want, but we don’t know when those bastards are gonna show up.”

After he’s emptied the supply, you and he walk together back to his tent. 

“Jihoon, are you alright?” You ask, rubbing at your nose so it doesn’t begin to run.

“What do you mean by that?” He turns to look at you, the empty jugs clinking together in his hands.

“You’re not drunk, are you?” You look at the aforementioned jugs.

“That’s it?” He laughs, “I had one cup, I can hold my liquor, promise.” The smile slips from his face and he looks off into the distance, “They’re almost like kids to me. Not much I can do for them personally on the battlefield, seems like a little yakju is the least I can give them.”

The two passes are the last line of Goguryeo defense before the city itself, this would be an important undertaking to take these points if the Silla-Tang plan is to go smoothly. 

“I’m sure they understand,” you nod, setting down the jug you’re holding beside his tent.

“You always say what I want to hear,” he says softly, setting down his next to yours. 

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 30𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔜𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔢𝔬𝔨, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 With the warming weather comes battle. Kunhang and his men are routed at Kangdong, letting Jihoon’s forces push through with concerted effort towards the fortress at the mouth of Haegok Pass. Beyond these walls and field beyond is where the final battle will take place.

Everything has gone well, just as Jihoon had predicted all those weeks ago. Before the night ends, Jihoon requests your presence in his quarters.

“Are you going to be up for much longer?” He tilts his head as you approach, “You should sleep soon, there are long days ahead.”

“I know,” you have to try and stifle a yawn, “but… “ As the days press on toward the final assault on Pyongyang, days like this in relative closeness to Jihoon become more and more sparse. All you want is to cherish every moment with him while you still can, so you linger for a moment longer. Before you’re able to finish your thought, a visitor arrives.

“Chief, are you here?” The muffled voice of Junghwan speaks out. 

“Yeah, I am,” Jihoon responds, “Come in.” As Junghwan enters you look at him, Jihoon questioning, “What’s the matter?”

“There’s something that just couldn’t wait, something I need to give you, Jihoon.” Junghwan says, his hands fumbling with a rolled up scroll in his hands. He holds it out to Jihoon, “Here…”

When Jihoon realizes what he’s looking at, his eyes grow wide and he stares intently at it. “Did… Did Hanbin draw this? Why are you giving it to me?”

“When we were in Ungjin some time ago I went to see him…” Junghwan confesses, “And that’s what I told him, I told him to show all of you where he’s been… To show you the life he’s led and experienced. And so, not long ago, he sent me this drawing. As soon as I saw it I thought it best to give it to you.”

“I’ll take this,” Jihoon says after a moment, solemnly smiling at him, “Thank you, Junghwan.”

Without another word, the younger one turns with a bow and leaves the room. Jihoon gives a curt smile, exhaling as he plops back into his chair. 

“What was that all about?” You ask, looking at Jihoon reviewing the drawing, “What is that?” The minute you see it, the vivid brushstrokes on the page evokes a small gasp and a feeling of magnificence from you. “A Fury…?”

Painted onto the scroll is the depiction of a Fury, complete with white hair and crimson eyes. Within those eyes, however, is none of the murderous rage you’ve come to expect in Furies. A peculiar kindness is imbued into them, “Who is this?”

“Well, this was the Chief of the Hwarang, but that hasn’t been in a long, long time.” Jihoon guffaws, “The bastard would get into skirmishes with merchants, nobles, and commoners. Then go partying in Noseo-dong when he was finished. His name was Zhang Yixing. When  he was still kicking around, I don’t think I ever got a good night’s rest. Always had to get into some bullshit.”

Everything he describes to you about Yixing seems incongruent to the kind-looking image of the man on the page.

“Actually, funny to think about it now, but I remember spending every day thinking of ways to fuck with him. Then, he told me something… ‘If you want any chance of pushing Youngmin to to the top, you need to become the ‘Demon’ you were born to be.’” Jihoon hums, “And I took his word for it, then I took his life when it seemed being a Fury was too much for him.”

“Pushing Youngmin to the top…” You can’t begin to imagine bearing the responsibility of killing the man who was supposed to be your leader, and you realize how dire those straits must’ve been.

“I have a feeling that night Yixing knew, somehow, that I was going to take his life.” Jihoon’s eyes are locked with your own for a minute of dull silence before falling back to gaze on the drawing. “Strangely enough, the same look he gave me as I killed him is the one drawn here.”

“Huh?” The man you see on the page looks so warm and gentle, and in no way did you interpret his expression as belonging to someone expecting to meet their demise. 

“You know, come to think of it, I could probably credit the bastard for giving me the kick in the ass needed to get my shit together.” Jihoon smirks, “If I let the Hwarang half-ass their way to power, who knows what kind of shit Yixing’ll have to say to me in the afterlife.”

When it comes to people who’ve made a considerable impression on Jihoon, Youngmin is one of the first people to come to mind. Yet, it seems as if Jihoon holds a special place for Yixing as well, and you can hear the admiration. 

“I don’t know what the hell fate’s trying to tell me,” his arms cross, “but he visited me in my dream last night.” 

“What kind of dream was it?”

“Well, we weren’t speaking to one another,” Jihoon nods down to the painting, “But he seemed at peace, not too unlike how he looks on this… It was like his eyes were telling me to let go. Let go of the pain, the burden…”

𝔐𝔞𝔶 8𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔄𝔧𝔦𝔫𝔥𝔞𝔪 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 As the men come in and out of the fortress, Jihoon is dead set on making sure everyone and all equipment is up to par for the days ahead. A certain group of incoming soldiers does catch him off guard– 

“Hello, Chief!” Wonwoo greets with a smile.

“Everything’s going to plan,” Junghwan smiles as he bounds up alongside him, “We’ll have the city in no time.”

“I’m glad to see you all safe…” You sigh out in relief.

“Of course they are,” Jihoon says, looking at the pair, “The battle’s not even started yet.”

“It’s nice of you to be concerned for us,” Junghwan blushes sheepishly. 

“I’m glad you’re doing well too. How are things with you?” Wonwoo asks.

“Great,” you shoot a glance at Jihoon, “He’s allowed me to stick around as usual. I’m not sure if I can live up to the bar you set, but I’m doing my best!”

“Nah,” Wonwoo shakes his head, “Nobody can do what you do.”

“He’s right,” Junghwan nods fervently, “The only person in the world that can defeat Jihoon is you.”

“Knock it off, guys,” Jihoon chuckles, “This is all going to go to her head and then I’ll be the one to deal with it.”

“Apologies, sir,” Wonwoo says, “It can’t be helped.”

After some time, Jihoon fixes his gaze on Junghwan, “Thanks for stopping by with the painting.”

“There’s no need to thank me, I’m confident that Hanbin is happy you have it.” 

“Hmph, maybe it’s time for me to stop being such a hardass all the time.” Jihoon nods, “Hey, I’m leaving the rest to you.”

The words don’t register for Junghwan at first, and he blinks incredulously with a nervous chuckle, “...Um… What do you mean by that?” Jihoon smiles back kindly, staring back at Junghwan with eyes that brim with warmth. After a second, Junghwan perks up and his eyes widen, finally realizing what he means, “Understood. Please leave everything to me.”

Jihoon nods curtly, perhaps satisfied with the confidence in his reply, “Jeon, do me a favor. Can you call Kunhang? I have some words for him.” 

A few minutes later, Wonwoo returns with Wong Kunhang at his side.

“Sorry for taking so long to get here… They put up a hell of a fight at Kangdong,” Kunhang apologizes. 

“We split our forces, we got screwed a bit because of it but we brought it back in the end.” Jihoon nods slowly, “All that matters now is concentrating our men on the front gates of the city.”

“We’ll take it no matter the cost,” Wonwoo nods firmly.

“As long as we fight under the Hwarang banner we’ll fight to the very last man!” Junghwan says quickly.

“Don’t say shit like that– Did you already forget that Kunhang’s in command going forward?” Jihoon frowns.

“I’ll raise the Hwarang’s standard for this battle. Then everything should be fine, right?” Kunhang asks, “So long as it’s up, I don’t think I could falter. I’ve lost a few battles here and there, sure, but I’ve never given up on the spirit of a warrior.”

“Hah,” Jihoon smiles at him, “Now the Army Minister’s superstitious? You need to get your act together, Wong.” That’s when you realize that all four of them are smiling. “We should get going,” Jihoon looks at you, “the men aren’t going to move themselves.”

“Alright…” You say, looking back to the other men, “I’ll see you all again soon.”

As you’re walking away, Wonwoo shouts out, “I’m entrusting you with Jihoon!”

Ever since the war had begun, you’re unsure of how many times people have said this to you. You turn to look over your shoulder at him, “I’ll do my best! I’m ready to lay down my life just like anyone in the Hwarang!”

“You don’t need to risk your life,” Wonwoo shakes his head as you turn fully to look at him, Jihoon continuing on behind you, “I want you to protect Jihoon’s heart. He’s a strong man, but he hides behind that strength and he suffers alone. He needs someone who can look past that, and be there to support him. I believe that someone is you.”

To stay by Jihoon’s side and support him is all that you want… “Can I really do that?” Soon you’ll be plunged into a violent and bloody battle. How much help can you be to him in the middle of a war?

“What are you talking about?!” Junghwan says, “No one else except for you can do it!” 

“He trusts you more than anyone else,” Wonwoo smiles.

“Alright…” No one else can stand by him in the days to come. You nod firmly and wave to them one last time before rushing back to Jihoon’s side.

𝔐𝔞𝔶 10𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔄𝔧𝔦𝔫𝔥𝔞𝔪 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 You’re sitting quietly in Jihoon’s study when he suddenly says, “We’re going to attack tomorrow.”

“Right…” You nod slowly. You’ve been on Pyongyang’s doorstep for weeks now, the battle is inevitable. When the sun rises the next day, the area will become a battlefield. 

“Are you sure–” 

“Yes, I’m going to stay with you.” However the battle ends, you intend to be there with him when it does.

“I need to stop letting you say it all the time…” His expression is solemn, but his lips are pressed tightly together and you can feel his hesitation. Jihoon’s eyes stare back into yours.

“Um…” The silence drags on and on.

“More than anything else, I want to keep you safe.” His voice is low, quiet, “I’m… I think I’m in love with you.” 

Your mouth hangs open, the question you had intended to ask now forgotten. You’ve loved Jihoon for some time by now, and in the past months you’ve begun to realize how much he cares for you as well. For a moment, you think your heart is going to stop.

He gives you a crooked smile, reaching out to close your mouth, his fingers lingering under your chin, “I thought I could just die as soon as I’d done what I had to do for the Hwarang.” 

The words linger in your ears and you can feel just how much has been weighing down his heart. It seems as if he’s trying to assuage your anxieties as he speaks in a soothing tone, “I mean, it’s not like I had a death wish or anything. I just… wouldn’t have anything to live for anymore.” His hand drops from your chin and into his lap, “So long as I led the Hwarang and made them into what they were meant to be, what did it matter if I lived or died? … But now I’ve got a reason to live.”

You feel your shoulders relax from a tension you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. 

“Because you’re by my side… It gives me a reason to keep moving forward.”

“Me…?” As you struggle to comprehend your worth to him, you squeeze your fists together. 

Jihoon reaches out and embraces you, holding you tightly without saying a word, he opens his mouth as if he was going to say something, then closes it. There isn’t a need for words in this moment. At last, his stubborn heart opens, and through his lips pours out what it has long kept hidden. His touch is gentle as ripples on a lake but when you kiss, you feel within him a passion that burns so hot it could put a forge to shame. 

And though that feeling fades as your lips part, the love that flows between you remains in your heart.

“Continue to stay by me,” he says softly, pressing his forehead against yours, “I won’t let you go even if you want to be, so be prepared.”

“Of course, Jihoon,” you respond quietly, his hand raising to brush away the tears you didn’t realize were falling. 

𝔐𝔞𝔶 11𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔄𝔧𝔦𝔫𝔥𝔞𝔪 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Once the first and second wave of Kunhang’s troops leave, Jihoon decides to travel with the men stationed in the third group.

“You’re coming, right?” Jihoon asks you as he walks to you, the reigns of his horse in hand as it trots alongside him. 

“Yes!” You nod and he grins back at you. 

The two of you gallop through the valley, moving at an incredible pace.It seems to be going well until something impacts Jihoon’s body, the horse, surprised by the sudden jolt rears up and throws you to the ground. Rid of its frightening burden, the horse bolts.

You’re fortunate to have landed in a small area of brush, only a few small scratches littering your body. “Jihoon!” You cry out to him, crawling across the ground toward his body, your own bruised and aching. The soil around him is staining red, more blood than you’d seen over the course of your time in the Hwarang.

Terror grips you and you can hear blood hammering in your ears.

“Jihoon!” You call out to him again, shaking his body as you call his name again and again.

“Hm?” His brow furrows ever so slightly. A normal human would have died from this– but his Fury blood is keeping him alive, if only barely.

“Say something!”

His eyes open to thin slits, “Are you alright?” Near dead and undoubtedly in serious pain, and his first thought is about your safety. “We’re in trouble if they come back to finish the job. We need to get out of here and wait for this to heal.” He struggles to his feet and begins to walk, blood dripping down the length of his body.

“Stop!” You say and haul his arm around your shoulder, and he leans against it gratefully. Scanning over the vicinity, you cannot see any enemy soldiers. Perhaps they’d seen you fall from the horse and assumed you’d died. 

Nudging Jihoon, you push him to move into the brush away from the open air. In the forest you find a grove and settle down, “Jihoon, are you okay?” 

He rests under the trunk of a large tree, a steady flow of blood leaving him. One might guess him dead from his pale complexion, “I guess so…”

“We need to do what we can to stop the bleeding…” It takes a sheer force of will to stop your fingers from shaking as you carefully peel off his clothing. Revealing his chest, you see two arrow punctures, one near his heart and one in his stomach. “This is horrible…” You murmur, thanking whatever deity’s out there that the archer had missed his heart. 

You do what you can to staunch the bleeding, but without the proper tools you can only minimally patch him up, “As soon as you’re able to move again, we need to go back to the fortress.” With no response you call out to him again, “Jihoon…? Can you hear me?”

“Urg, yeah…” His breaths are heavy, “I don’t know if I can go back out there on my own yet.”

“Okay!” You say, knowing you need to keep him awake. “Wonwoo and the others have everything under control. They’ll be waiting for you.”

“Damn r-right they will…” Sweat pours from his forehead, “They’re not Hwarang for nothing… We can’t waste too much time though, we– we have to come back and cover them while they take the gate.”

“You’re right… you’re… You’re going to make it,,” however the spots where he’d been shot don’t look like they’ll be closing any time soon. Had they used silver arrowheads? “Jihoon…?” His eyes close and you begin to panic, “Jihoon!”

“Goddamn  it… S-stop making a scene. I can hear you, alright?” His voice is barely above a murmur– it’s practically a wispy breath. 

At once, a sense of clarity washes over you– he’s a Fury. “Jihoon. You need to drink my blood.” Without any doubts, you move your blade to your palm. 

“Stop it!” The force of his command startles you, and the blade drops to the forest floor. In his condition, he shouldn’t be able to scream this loudly. 

“Why–?!”

“Spare me,” he says through grit teeth, “I’ll be okay. I’m not going to let this crap kill me… This isn’t the end, I told you that. You’re… you’re the reason I’m alive. I’m fine, I won’t die here.”

“I don’t believe you.” You frown, “I believe that you want to live and don’t plan on dying here. But you’re not ‘fine’!” He blinks incredulously, perhaps taken aback by the intensity of your glare. “So, I’m not taking your word for it. You always put up a wall and pretend everything is ‘fine’ even when you’re bursting at the seams!”

You’re determined to get your way just this once. And maybe this time, you’ve gotten through to him.

“Some lady you are…” He chuckles weakly, “I’m starting to second guess why I fell for you. Ugh, this is why they say women from the countryside are trouble…”

“Look, I promise you can give me grief for this later, but for now, please…” Before you finish, Jihoon closes his eyes in silent resignation.

“Do as you wish…” He leans gently against the tree carefully. You pick up your blade, running it across the length of your palm.You put your lips against the cut, sipping in a large gulp of blood without swallowing.  You then lean over, pressing your lips against his and let the blood flow into his mouth. 

Perhaps it's his Fury instincts kicking in that allow him to accept the blood as readily as he does. You repeat the process of this blood transfer over and over again. You’re about to do it one more time when his hand reaches out to stop you. 

“That’s enough,” he says calmly, “I’ve stopped bleeding.” His cheeks, once pale and pallid, begin to show color once more. “You’ve gone and hurt yourself for me…”

“It’ll heal soon…” you say, hiding the cut with the sleeve of your robes. 

“What kind of absolute idiot would ever allow the woman he loves to hurt herself for his sake?” He sighs out, “Try putting yourself in my shoes for once.” After all of that trouble, the first thing he does is scold you… You can’t help but burst into laughter.

“What kind of absolute idiot would ever want to watch the man she loves suffer?”

“Oh, shut up…” He says as you continue to laugh.

After another handful of minutes he brushes himself off and rises to his feet.

“We’ve got to get going,” he says, pulling his robes back together. “Let’s head back to the fortress. Oh– and by the way, I’d prefer the next time we kissed to taste a little bit better than that did.” He chuckles as you help him start walking. His body isn’t great, but it’s enough to get you back.

Once you get back to the fortress, you’re met with a startling site. Perhaps you hadn’t noticed them bloom, or they’d come into their own while you were away, but the azalea bushes surrounding the fortress have sprung to life. 

Their petals dance in the sunlit breeze, fluttering like small butterflies. The area is empty, the men away fighting at Pyongyang…

“Jihoon, how are you feeling?”

He forces a small grin. As a Fury, he should be fully healed by now. Minhyun’s words about the Fury’s borrowing their power from their future lifespan suddenly comes to mind. You slowly begin to panic, becoming paralyzed with dread over the implications of this realization. Is this the end for Jihoon?

He breaks the silence, interrupting your anxiety, “You don’t look half bad surrounded by flowers.”

“You really think so?” You muse, “I’ve alway thought they really suited you, though.” Each felled blossom is strikingly beautiful in defiance of the tragic end they’ll surely face. 

A strong gust of wind blows through the clearing. And then, out of nowhere, a figure emerges from the treeline.

“So, you are alive…” Hong Jisoo’s eyes fall on Jihoon and his mouth curls up into a smile. 

“Why…?” Your voice breaks and the Demon only laughs.

“This man is an affront to my honor.” He says simply, “I’m here to put an end to all of this.”

The last you’d seen Jisoo, he warned you that he’d return. You didn’t think that he would forsake his clan and travel all the way here just to fight Jihoon.

“I’m surprised to see you make it this far,” Jisoo mutters. “Impressive, for a fake. I heard your pathetic friends got their asses kicked until it was just you standing. I’m not sure if being born into a warrior family… Or hell, even being born as a Demon, could help you survive the embarrassment of failing as often as you fools do.”

It’s strange… His tone is as derisive as usual, but his words are almost compliments. In some way, he recognizes what Jihoon’s been through.

“Didn’t think you’d come all the way to Pyongyang.” Jihoon crosses his arms, his voice still a bit raspy. “What were you gonna do if I ate it already? You would’ve wasted your time.”

Jisoo’s face screws into a twisted grin and he draws his sword.  

“He’s hurt!” You cry, stepping between the two men. 

However, Jihoon puts his arm in front of you and moves you, “Step back. He’s thrown everything away to come fight me, right? It’s only polite of me to accept the invitation to fight a warrior of his quality.”

Jisoo practically abandoned his clan. This, up until now, seems to be his entire life, just for the sake of defending his honor.

Jihoon and he are two different men in almost every way, but perhaps they share a warrior’s pride.

“I’ll be fine,” Jihoon tells you as he reaches for his sword, “I won’t die. I already told you: I have a reason to live.”

If he fights Jisoo, then surely by then his life’ll be up. Even if you can convince him to run, then everything he’s stood and lived for will be destroyed. But you can’t stop him.

“...I’ll watch, then. I believe in you.”

Jihoon’s smile is fleeting like the blossoms scattering at your feet.

“Furies are only imitations,” Jisoo says, brandishing his sword, “The more you use those powers, the shorter your life gets. You’re nothing compared to a pure-blooded Demon. You are destined to wither and die. You’re no different than these,” his shoe skids across the ground, swirling the azalea petals around.

“A man’s gotta protect the people he cares about. It’s not so easy to be a warrior, didn’t you know?” His tone indicates that he’s speaking seriously, but a sardonic grin dances along his lips. Watching him now makes you see just how much he’s given, every drop of sweat, blood and tears in his life to protect the ones he loves.

“Perhaps the name of ‘Fury’ no longer suits you.” Jisoo says, his gaze narrowing, “The life you strive to live is not that of a fake.” There’s no hint of contempt left in those red eyes of his, full of confidence. “You are a Demon.”

The man who takes so much in being a Demon calling a Fury, a ‘fake’, a Demon… For him that’s possibly the highest compliment he can ever give.

“I take back all the crap I gave you for being a fake. If you’re really ready to take on the life of a Demon, that means you must have a Demon’s name. I name you… Dùjuān huā jīngshén.”

You think back to the first night you met Jihoon, his hair whipping around his face as snow falls around him like these monstrous azalea blooms do… It seems almost as if the name had been chosen long, long ago; so perfectly befitting of him.

“Thanks, I guess, but I’m not doing this so you’ll call me a Demon, you know.” Jihoon’s mouth curls upward into a smile as he slides his sword from its sheath. With a sigh, his body shivers and suddenly his hair is white.

“Can’t play long, though. That a problem?”

“Not at all. I’ll kill you with the first blow.”

The air is tense between the two; not a soul can come between them. The wind blows up, casting scores of petals into the air. Between the two combatants, there’s a brief moment of stillness. If only for a second, their swords meet. The two trade blows that thunder through the field around you, slashing with their full body weight.

Jisoo’s sword passed within a hair's breadth of Jihoon, but the Hwarang had found his mark. He buries his sword deep into the Demon’s heart.

“There’s still something I’ve got to protect,” Jihoon murmurs slowly, his voice full of confident authority,  “I can’t lose, not even to a Demon.”

Jisoo gazes up at the clear blue sky, and you can almost see a faint grin creep onto his face. 

His lips move, “If my end were to be met with the blade of a Demon like yourself… Then I have no regrets… I have lived my life with honor, and I die with the same.” Jisoo’s eyes are free of hostility, if anything, he seems at peace. To die in a duel against a foe he respects… “You’ve defeated me. Now you must live out what you have left, Lee Jihoon.”

Those are his last words. 

Jihoon draws his sword from Jisoo’s body as it falls, dropping the still bloody sword back into its scabbard, “... I will.” He takes a step away, then another, then his body trembles for a moment, and he gasps before falling to his knees.

“Jihoon!” You shout and run to his side. As he lies on his back, you take his hands into yours, “Please hang in there!” Your desperate screams reverberate around you, but Jihoon can only manage an uncertain lip curl.

“You always have to cry, don’t you?” Jihoon smiles up at you, his voice weak, “If you don’t get thicker  skin, there’s no way you’ll be able to handle being married to a warrior…” He winces with nearly every word and your heart clenches at the pain he must be in. 

“I only cry because of you… And besides, being married to a warrior doesn’t make you impervious to watching the person you love get hurt.” Teardrops stream down your cheeks, dripping down on his bruised face. He reaches his hand unsteadily upward to wipe your flowing tears, kindly running a finger across your cheek. 

“D- Don’t worry… You won’t ever have to cry on my behalf again. Just let me spend whatever time I have left with you beside me. I want to enjoy it…” Jihoon’s eyes quietly shut. You hold tightly onto his blood soaked body, hugging him closely as the blood seeps into your robes. Bright blossoms dance coolly around you as you look to the sky.

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 15𝔱𝔥, 667 – 𝔗𝔬𝔢����𝔴𝔞-𝔥𝔶𝔢𝔬𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Jihoon never made it to the gates or siege of Pyongyang. He never saw the fall of Yeon Gaesomun or the Unification of Silla. You hear later that it was Wong Kunhang who brokered for a sated peace between Tang and Silla, at least for the time being.

The Tang reclaimed Kun and his ships as soon as they could, returning him to their capital to bestow honors and titles on him. Somehow, Wonwoo made it through the battle, despite having been on the front line. When you asked what he intended to do, he laughed and said he’d probably open a swordsmanship school in Seorabeol. Junghwan, on the other hand, was entrusted by Jihoon with the Hwarang, returned to Seorabeol to try and rebuild what men they have left. As for Seokmin, before the battle of Pyongyang, took his own life with a concoction of opium. You suppose he would have seen his life as forfeit if he couldn’t continue being a warrior… 

From the stoop of your home, you watch the blooms of flowers lining the road before you, recalling everything that had occurred up north. 

How many men had given their lives for what they believed in…? Perhaps most of all, you remember the time spent with Jihoon. Every time you come across an abundance of them, they remind you of that dreamlike spring, so far removed from it, you’re left to wonder if you really had spent all that time with him.

“You really like those flowers, don’t you?” A voice murmurs out from beside you, a mass of warmth pressing against you as another body squeezes into the doorframe.

“Yeah.” Neither the yuchae nor the sansuyu can compare. “I like them because they remind me of you.”

Jihoon looks at you in a serene contemplation for a moment, then lets his grin spread across his face into a smile, “Well, I like them too. They look good on you.” His voice, soft and quiet, throws your mind into chaos.

“Lately, I’ve been worried about the end…” He hums, noting your confusion, “I never get bored when I’m with you. Sometimes, I wish I could live forever.”

As a Fury, Jihoon has spent his future in exchange for power in the present. How much he’s spent, you don’t know. His life could end tomorrow. If he could live forever, then that fear of the unknown will disappear. 

“It’d probably be an easy way to go… to accept that I’m used up and wither away. But there’s no need for me to ask for an end. Since I want to live, I'll fight for survival. That suits me better.”

“I don’t want to be apart,” you say, your hand holding onto the sleeve of his robes. “I want to stay with you for as long as I can.”

He chuckles, “You cry so easily, I’d feel pretty bad if I left you behind.”

“Oh…” Tears had begun to run down your cheek without you noticing at first. You blink in surprise, but that hardly helps. You raise your hand to wipe them away but he grins and stops you.

“I’ll get them for you,” he says softly, gently drying them with his fingers. “It’s my job to help you.”

“Then it’s my job to support you too.”

“Of course, who else could fit that role aside from you?” He murmurs with a smile, “No matter what I do to drive you away, you won’t go. You even followed me to Pyongyang. I lost to you… and I don’t think I can ever win.”

You want to hold on to this moment of him, the memory, for as long as you can. 

a/n: thank you so much for going on this journey with me! i hold such a fond place in my heart for the heroes and even "villains" of this story and i hope they have brought just a little bit of joy over the course of these seven parts.

months of research went into planning, drafting and eventually publishing this piece and even as i continue to write for the other members i am constantly amazed at the outpouring of love you, my darling readers, have shown me.

thank you once again, i am eternally grateful! ♥

[mire1li]

Surprise Stars!

Robin had been preparing for her concert when, just 10 minutes beforehand, for some unknown reason, she fell unconscious. Luckily though, her manager had caught her and placed her on the couch in her dressing room.

When you, March and Dan Heng heard of the news from Aventurine, who got the information from god knows where, you and March essentially dragged Dan Heng to Robin’s dressing room, her manager pacing around when you three entered.

The manager watched you, confused and worried as she stopped moving, studying the three of you.

“Who…? Oh! You’re Robin’s friends…”

“Ah, yeah, we heard Robin fainted, is she alright?!?!” March immediately stepped forward, frantically, though took a moment to look around in adoration of the large room, seemingly forgetting of the current predicament, before snapping out of her thoughts and jogging over to the couch where Robin lay unconscious.

Robin’s manager shooed March away from Robin, claiming that ‘she shouldn’t be seen at such a vulnerable time’, albeit understandable, it also seemed rather unreasonable, though none of you questioned it.

“So… why are we here again?” Dan Heng chimed in, looking between both you and March for a reply.

“Uhh… well obviously we’re here to help!”

“We are?” You asked “How?���

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? I THOUGHT YOU ALSO HAD THIS IN MIND?”

“No???”

“Ah! You’re insufferable!” March sighed dramatically, turning away from the two of you.

“Okay… um… well, I don’t really see how you three could possibly be of help in this situation…”

The manager glanced towards the clock nervously, placing her hands over her face for a moment before looking back towards Robin, who looked as though she was taking a casual nap.

“Oh… yeah, uh… I didn’t really think this through… haha…” March chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck.

Soon enough, too much time had passed and the crowds were getting restless, causing the manager to panic and return to pacing the room, constantly looking back and forth between Robin and the ground.

"Ok… It's fine!" She exclaimed.

"I could… I could reschedule the show for tomorrow… uh… oh for- ok… I can't do that…" she rambled on and on, when you decided to propose a rather ludicrous idea.

"Ah… excuse me, what if we just… went on stage for Robin and called it an opening act?"

"What?"

"What?!"

"What."

The manager had stopped her pacing, glaring at you, as though you'd just suggested blowing up the entire place (though that wouldn't be too out of character for you). She sighed pinching her nose bridge.

"How ridiculous would that be? Absolutely no one would like that at all!"

"Hey! I'm only trying to help. Besides, you don't know that!" You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring right back at the unnecessarily hostile woman, though you assumed her stress was bringing about her attitude.

"Uh… I… didn't sign up for this..-"

"The trailblazer is always filled with such silly ideas haha! But I think it would be fun… and it could buy you time to wake up Robin!"

March added on, cutting off Dan Heng, clearly trying to rope him into this… impulsive idea, soon-to-be reality.

The manager groaned in irritation, falling back on the arm chair in the room.

"Fine. Fine. Do what you want, however, I'm not involved in this."

And so, there were the three of you, on the stage, dressed in fancy-ish dresses borrowed from Robin's wardrobe, wearing wigs, earrings, and other accessories to really sell the performance.

You tapped the microphone, testing it, causing the audience to go silent, before March stole the microphone from you.

She cleared her throat and confidently spoke into it.

"Hello! Uh… unfortunately, due to uh… technical difficulties Miss Robin's performance is scheduled for a bit later, but don't panic please! We'll be performing first until that time!"

Though, the crowd booed, unhappy with the sudden change, most of them went silent when she began speaking again.

"I'm… ah…" March glanced at you, before being hit by an epiphany.

"Oh! I'm April 1st!" she continued, striking a confident pose, leaving you and Dan Heng feeling… well, not pleased, but you guessed it was better than nothing.

March passed off the microphone to Dang Heng, who also cleared his throat before speaking, though when he did, you and March nearly died laughing on stage as he attempted to mimic a female voice, somehow sounding convincing enough to fool the crowd.

"I'm Cold Dragon Young.." He, or rather, 'she', introduced 'herself' as, trying to sound as gleeful as possible before immediately passing the microphone to you with a glare.

'Nobody forced you' you mouthed to him before introducing yourself as (your chosen name).

Then came the music, specifically "If I Can Stop One Heart from Breaking". The three of you were aware it'd be best with just one singer but… three is always better than one, so if you mess up, at least you have the comfort of knowing you aren't alone!

You began singing the first verse of the song, doing the dance Robin would do at the beginning, though adding some of your own spark to it.

The chorus was sung by the three of you, though it was clear Dang Heng was beginning to struggle a bit, so you decided to give verse 2 to March.

Upon the arrival of the second chorus, you and March decided simultaneously to stay quiet and let Dan Heng take the spotlight, causing him to falter slightly and look at you two in an irritated manner, though continuing to sing.

Whilst you were all performing, Robin slowly began to gain consciousness, causing her manager to gasp and rush over to her.

"Robin! You're awake! Very good, alright, we have to get you ready, you go on in like a minute!"

The manager rushed Robin, though first letting the poor girl gain her footing whilst explaining everything that's happened thus far, though only about half of it registering in Robin's brain.

"Wait, hold on… what time is it…?" Robin asked, still disoriented and slightly shaky.

"Uh… well, the show started 3 minutes ago" Her manager repeated, handing her a glass of cold water, which Robin drank almost immediately, causing her to feel a bit better than before.

"What do you mean 3 minutes ago?! I should be out there!" She panicked, standing up and jogging out of her dressing room and going to stand by the backstage curtain, from where she could see three figures singing and dancing.

Though they were a bit… sub-par compared to her, it was still entertaining to watch. Robin sighed in relief.

"Yes, Robin, I was telling you that your friends decided to help out and… well" The manager motioned to the stage, 'April 1st' slightly stumbling, though now the crowd cheering, enjoying the slightly chaotic performance.

Once the song ended, Robin went on stage, waving to her fans, and standing by the three of you.

"Hello! I apologise for the delay!" She began, looking back at her manager.

"As compensation… I would like to perform a song with my friends here!"

Thee three of you were already rather tired from performing the previous song and were now being dragged into performing another… you could only wonder what tragedy this would end in (though, ultimately, you three accepted anyway).

Most people's attention was turned to Robin now that she was up on stage, therefore less people noticed any minor mistakes and instead enjoyed the collaboration, hopefully to it's fullest.

Eventually, when the song ended, you left Robin alone on stage, allowing her to finish the rest of the concert as it should've been since the start.

Upon returning backstage, you were greeted with the sight of Robin's manager holding a conversation with Sunday, who then turned to look at you and waved you over.

By this point, March and Dan Heng had left, probably to change out of their costumes. You took off your own wig, placing it to the side and walked over to the manager and Sunday.

"I will presume you're both already acquainted. Now to the topic at hand… we were discussing your idiocy, most crowds at a concert don't appreciate such surprises."

Sunday chuckled "Whilst that may be rather harsh, I do agree. You got quite lucky with this crowd, Trailblazer."

"Yes, so you see, I just have too much rizz!" You exclaimed proudly, placing your hands on your hips.

The manager sighed, crossing her arms, momentarily looking behind you, at the stage where Robin was currently performing.

"Sure… well, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful you did that since it allowed Robin to regain her consciousness. I just hope we won't have a repeat of today."

"Hm… well, even if this happens again, I'm sure March and Dan Heng wouldn't mind doing this again~"

"Absolutely not."

"But you must admit, they certainly put on something of a show… enough to entertain the crowds, at least. I'm sure my sister is grateful though."

The three of you continued to talk for a while before you received a text message from Himeko saying that everyone should return to the Express.

You quickly finished up the conversation before bidding the two Halovians adieu and leaving. At least you'd have an interesting story to share with everyone now!

[forever-will-last]

New Upload Schedule!

So, it's been a while since I've updated. I've moved (yay!), had a bunch of other personal stuff going on (boo!), and literally today, the day I'm posting this, is my birthday! Yay for being 26, boo for having to move and becoming unemployed right before losing my health insurance! When will I meet the CEO of my dreams who will give me health insurance?

In the last couple of weeks, through a lot of internal debate as well as conversations with a close friend, I have reflected on my fics and the most sustainable way to continue writing going forward. Cadina Week, as fun as it was, proved to be extremely detrimental to my writing habits and accelerated my burnout much faster. (The timing was also pretty rough, as my personal life kinda hit the fan right after Cadina Week ended, and the entirety of July just kinda... Went down the drain, and ended with me moving, so, you know! Fun times lol)

I refuse to give up on these fics, but I've needed to give myself more realistic deadlines to upload, so I don't set the unrealistic expectation of myself to return to writing at a pre-Cadina Week speed, as I simply don't think that's possible right now. And, of course, on top of all of this, I started another WIP because the writing demon within me does not know the definition of SLOW DOWN. Luckily, this fic has a completely fleshed out plot, and at the time of posting this, is around halfway done in terms of chapters already. My initial plan was to drop it all at once, but as you may have seen by me dropping the first chapter today, that wasn't really a sustainable plan either. So now I'm doing weekly uploads for not only this new fic, but also, for my other fics (for the most part, as you'll see below).

So, without further ado, presenting my new uploading schedule!

MBAU Mondays: Expect an update to i thought i was a fool for no one (but baby i'm a fool for you) aka mbau (marching band au). This fic has 16 total chapters, so after 16 weeks, uploads on Mondays will stop. I'll reevaluate my upload schedule after that point to see if things need to be shifted around.

Wildcard Wednesdays: Most Wednesdays will have an update to Welcome to the Psych Ward! Some Wednesdays will have an update to sbau/one night with me and she's making vows (she's making vows). There might even occasionally be a random one shot or other crackfic idea outside of Psych Ward! I cannot dedicate a specific day to sbau since those chapters are simply significantly longer than anything else I write, and take considerably more time than one week if I'm writing sustainably. Please note that my primary focus is going to be on the other two fics, and Wildcard Wednesdays may not always happen if I need some extra time for the other fics!

Thousand Pics Thursdays: Expect an update to a thousand pictures in my mind; in a painting of the past on Thursdays! It's a lot slower than previous uploads, I know, but let's be real, that was never a fully sustainable writing/posting method. As I continue writing, if I find myself accumulating a large backlog of chapters for a thousand pics, I may occasionally have a Bonus Thousand Pics Tuesday. It entirely depends on how this new process goes as to whether or not that'll happen, but we'll see!

Thank you all so much for your patience, and I look forward to trying this out and hopefully getting back to regular uploads AND actually having a sustainable upload schedule!

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt 2 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: Peter makes a daring rescue to save Honey. Or is this a rescue at all? more shameless trope pining.

words: 5.5k

warnings: mob-typical violence. whump. hurt/comfort. bandaging wounds. ouchy hurt boo boo. lots of crying. references to assault. someone gets tortured. shameless forced proximity trope. imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions.

you're responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if you're too young to remember the ipod nano, this aint for you, chief.

Back to Part 1

Part 2

How many state capitals can you name?

Montgomery. Juneau. Phoenix. Little Rock.

She was running out of questions to distract herself. She’d already gone through listing all of Stephen King’s novels. All of the Presidents. All of the elements of the Periodic Table. She was running out of distractions.

Sacramento. Denver. Hartford. Dover.

She���d been to Delaware once for a funeral. The whole state was a graveyard. She was going to be killed and who would be at her funeral? Would her dark-eyed friend be the one to murder her?

Tampa. Atlanta. Honolulu. Fuck! Tallahassee, not Tampa… Montgomery. Juneau. Phoenix. Little Rock. Sacramento—

Would he make it quick? Would it be him or would it be one of the people from the car? Did he know the two men that took her from the train? Did he order them to take her? Then what was that gunfire? Why did it seem like they were running?

She didn’t know how much time had passed since she had been brought to a room, sat down, and left alone under the dark of the hood obscuring her vision. Heated but hushed voices echoed from the other side of a wall. They were too muffled to comprehend, but the frantic frustration was unmistakable.

She could barely make out the words.

“She’s a liability now, Parker! Where’s she gonna go?”

Her heart felt like it would burst from her chest. The conversation got quieter.

Montgomery. Juneau. Phoenix. Little Rock. Sacramento. Denver. 

The sound of a door lock startled her. Her body went rigid as a door opened wide. She swallowed hard, unable to get the image of the gun in Peter’s grip out of her mind. Heavy footsteps approached her. Her lip quivered beneath the hood. If the shot was coming, maybe it was better for it to come now. Maybe it was better if she didn’t see it coming.

The hood came off of her head, revealing a dark room only illuminated by a window. The night lights of the city skyline sparkled in the distance. She was on a sofa—a loveseat facing a desk. As far as she could tell, she was in some sort of office or study. And crouched down in front of her, was her dangerous friend.

Peter held his hands up in a placating manner, letting the hood drop to the floor. “Don’t cry, Honey. It’s just me.”

The sweetness of his voice made her heart beat faster. She cursed the treacherous bitch for allowing that to happen, after everything.

Just him. As if that was supposed to mean anything. Is he Peter, or is he Ben? Does it matter which one he’d tell her? And what other option did she have to respond, other than crying? Her mouth was still taped shut.

He studied her features in a way that made her squirm. His face was solemn as he considered her. He huffed a sigh. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me,” he declared in an apologetic tone. His cocoa eyes glistened with regret. “You’re probably feelin’ angry with me right now. I get that. You’ve been nothin’ but sweet to me and I... I—” 

He stopped short of finishing the sentence as if his jaw locked up. A wrinkle creased his brow. He glanced down at the floor, then looked back up at her. “I’m gonna ask you to do somethin’ for me,” he began. “You don’t have any reason to owe me anything, I see that, I do. I don’t have the right to ask. But I’m still gonna ask.”

A hand came up to rub the back of his neck. The gesture made him seem more anxious, more boyish. Not the same man that marched into the garage holding a gun. Not the same man that ordered his man to blindfold her.

“You’ve always been patient with me,” he continued, dancing around a topic he didn’t want to address. “Even when I’m not my best. I need you to be patient with me now. Take a chance on me, Honey.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She really wished it wouldn’t do that.

He gazed at her, lowering his voice to an even more soothing tone. He emanated calm and control. “I’m gonna help you off the sofa, then we’re gonna leave this room,” he said. “We’re goin’ to the last door at the end of the hallway, okay? Nod if you understand.”

She stared at him like a deer in the crosshairs. After a moment, she nodded.

“Okay, good,” he replied. He reached for her. “Easy now.”

He put his hands around her upper arms and attempted to lift her weight from beneath her shoulders. A flash of pain erupted like her deltoids were on fire, and she winced and whimpered behind the tape.

Immediately, he pulled back his hands with a sour look. An edge of irritation returned to his eyes, in a way she’d remembered from the coffee shop when those goons showed up, except now they were alone and that look was rendered at her. Or so she thought.

Tears welling up again, she avoided his gaze. She sank further into the couch, as if that was even possible, and shook like a leaf. He stood before her wordlessly. She could only hear a heavy exhale through flared nostrils.

Seconds passed, then Peter bent at the waist, placing his hands on her hips. She shuddered at the pressure, the warmth and width of his hands on the crest of her hips. He held her in a steady grip, bringing her to her feet, this time with less pain. 

Upon standing, she looked up and locked eyes with him. It stilled his motion, and he stood with her pressed up against his chest, looking down at her with darkening eyes. His body was solid mass through his white dress shirt. It occurred to her that she’d never seen him without a coat before. Her heart was fluttering, and she wondered if he could feel it. She felt suddenly pliant, legs turning into rubber. 

Dizzy, she wavered a bit, blinking her eyes rapidly. It could’ve been the adrenaline spiking again, building pressure rising up beneath her skin. Perhaps it was her lack of real food since her distant lunch. Perhaps it was heat stroke, the way his gaze burned into hers.

He gripped her tighter. Swallowed hard.

Reluctantly, he released his hold, moving a hand to her lower back. “C’mon.”

She gulped. Hesitantly, she let him lead her to the door. Once they went through the doorway, he escorted her down the hall just as he had said. It was dark, but she could see light from beneath the closed door at the end of the hall.

Her boots felt heavy again. Her mind was screaming at her to run, but where would she go? 

“S’okay,” he stated softly, reading the slowing of her steps for what it was. “Almost there.”

He brought her to the solid door, twisting the handle and opening it. The only thing her brain could register was a massive king-sized bed in the middle of the room. She pushed back on his palm, attempting to wrench away from him. He grabbed her from behind, his arms holding her in place.

“Easy, easy, s’okay,” he tutted. 

But she was short-circuiting. Her mind was filled with violent images, clouding her sense of reason. A shriek crawled up her throat, desperately clawing at the adhesive of the duct tape over her mouth. 

“Hey, s’okay, it’s okay!”  He was holding her against the brick wall of his chest again. She shook her head desperately, struggling to break free to no avail. She could feel his heartbeat against her back. 

He pressed his cheek against her temple, his arms pulling her in with crushing strength that lifted her feet from the floor. “Enough!” he snapped, with a shockingly harsh tone. 

The simple admonishment made her go limp. She sobbed desperately.

His head fell backward and he let out a long sigh, frustration evident within him. He softened his grip, and instead of pinning her, it felt much more like an embrace. He bent his neck and his lips went to her temple again, his breath hot on her skin.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” he breathed into her hair. She felt the slow rise and fall from his chest. The kindness had returned to his voice. He took another deep breath, and she felt it reverberate in her. “No one is gonna hurt you,” he declared, more authoritative this time. She matched her next breath to his. 

They stood in silence for another few seconds. Her gaze traveled from the bed to the expanse of the room. The dark colors and modern accents. The yellow source of tungsten light spilled from an open doorway. 

“Now we’re gonna walk forward. Into the bathroom.”

He began to walk forward, and her feet moved in accordance. After the first few concordant steps, he loosened his grip on her. She felt the absence of his body heat as they stepped onto a tiled floor, turning a corner to a grand bathroom bigger than her meager apartment bedroom.

It was stunning; a mix of classic beauty and masculinity. Adorned with black marble, gold fixtures, and subway tile. Her eyes soaked up the details with an unintentional gasp. Inappropriately, she wished for her phone to save the image to the Pinterest board of her bathroom dreams.

“It’s okay,” he gently reminded her. Hearing his voice pulled her back to her reality. Her eyes snapped over her shoulder, up to him, then back forward as they approached a freestanding clawfoot tub filled with steaming water.

Her feet got heavy again and he turned her to face him. She looked up at him with a face full of confusion and betrayal. It only seemed to sour him further.

“I need you to trust me, remember?” Peter said to her. “I’m gonna take off the tape, but I need you to get in the water first.”

She felt her head shaking. Tears streaming.

“It’s the tape,” he explained. “Your skin is already reacting to it. If I try to pull it off now, it’ll take your skin with it.” She quirked a brow up at him. “We’re gonna use the soapy water to soak the tape on your wrists. The stuff on your mouth, I have a solvent for.”

She blinked, looked at the water, and back up to him.

“You don’t have to undress or anything,” he answered, again reading her mind with stunning accuracy. “We can take off your boots and you can step right in if you don’t mind getting your clothes wet.” She watched the Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I’m not gonna try anything,” he whispered quietly, “I swear.”

She lost herself in his eyes again. She studied the honey of his irises, a golden glow enhanced by the vanity lamps. She thought of caramel and chocolate and bourbon. And the tang of oranges, the smokey smell and flavor of an Old Fashioned she had three years ago at The Flatiron Room on an otherwise disappointing date—

“You with me?” he spoke so softly it could be a croon. Brought his hands up and she felt the rough pads of his thumbs brushing away her tears.

Her eyelashes fluttered closed at the sensation. That dizzy feeling hit her again, and she tried to swallow it down. When her eyes opened, she saw her friend staring back at her, the shadow of a smile adorning his face.

She spent too long gazing up at him like he was some sort of Prince Charming. Composing herself, she straightened and gave him a nod.

Having gathered her meaning, he responded with a subtle smirk, before putting it away. Slowly, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her, never breaking eye contact. The action made her stomach weak. Made her avert her eyes. He deftly began untying the laces of her boots and braced her lower back to pull off her shoes. 

Though he didn’t request it, she peeled her wool socks off next. She could have wet jeans and a wet shirt, but wet socks made her skin crawl. Once her bare feet were on the tiled floor, he came to a stand. He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her as she stepped into the deep tub. 

The warm water felt instantly soothing as she lowered herself into it. Her hands prickled with the sensation of the hot water reheating her abused limbs. He was right about her skin—she hissed at an immediate sting where the tape was. The thought of ripping off the duct tape over her mouth as fast as possible seemed more unpleasant.

She sat down with arms bound behind her, looking up at him as he sat beside the tub.

“The soap’s gonna help dissolve the adhesive,” he explained, pulling up a tray within his reach. A mass of dry cotton balls, cotton swabs, and gauze was neatly organized on it, next to several bottles of solution. It was bizarrely efficient. It made her wonder how many times he’d done this before.

He went to work, rolling up the arms of his sleeves up to his elbows. She pulled her eyes away from the sight of his toned forearms. 

His fingers went to her face and she couldn’t help but flinch. He made note of it, lips pursed into a straight line, but said nothing. Slower, he reached for her hairline and a razor-sharp sting of her flesh reminded her that she had taken at least one good hit to the face. 

His burnt-auburn eyes were now focused, a line forming in his brow as he studied a blood-crusted cut she couldn’t see. 

“This one’s deep,” he said with a frown. “It’ll need liquid stitches. I’mma take care of this first before it gets worse.” His hands left her sensitive flesh as he came to a stand, moving across the bathroom into a medicine cabinet where more first-aid supplies were located. 

While his back was turned, she rolled her eyes in frustration. The tape on her mouth was clearly the more pressing issue. 

“Can you bear with me a couple of minutes before I take the tape off?” he asked perceptively. It was starting to get creepy. He sat down beside her again. “Just relax. It’ll be easier to do it now.” He dabbed a cotton ball with alcohol. “And it’ll be harder for you to bite me.”

Her eyes darted to his face, her body tensing. She had bitten one of her captors hard enough to draw blood. He busied himself with cleaning and dressing the wound while she pondered the possibility that Peter had been behind her kidnapping earlier in the evening.

That neck-less, ginger bastard – Katz? – dragged her off the train without any regard for whether or not she felt safe. Particularly right before he knocked her out. Did he work for Peter? She hadn’t seen his face since.

“Your heart’s racing,” he informed her, breaking her chain of thought. He swallowed hard, a solemn look plastered firmly on his face. “I wasn’t lying when I said no one was going to hurt you.” His eyes rested on the wound as he delicately pinched her flesh together. “Not again,” he sighed, disappointed.

A few seconds passed as he carefully coated the cut in the liquid stitch solution. He looked pained, increasingly irritated. “I’m sorry about all this,” he blurted out. “I-I never shoulda come back to see you. I... I-I’m sorry about everything. Never meant for any of this to happen.” His sad eyes found hers. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean much, I know. But I hope you believe me.”

She stared. Considering. Decided that she did. She had to. Tied up, sitting waist-deep in this strange man’s bathtub, she had nothing else but her hope.

He took a cotton swab and dipped it in a jar of pristine petroleum jelly. One hand delicately lifted her chin, angling her face upward toward him, as he took a corner of the tape at her mouth and began to work the petroleum beneath the strip. He meticulously followed that action with a warm, wet compress, and then a cotton ball of isopropyl alcohol. The tape hurt as it slowly gave way, but less than it could’ve. 

The peaceful silence gave her time for her brain to slow down. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to question those plans. Question her judgment.

“Alright, almost done,” he said, then gave a small tug on the tape. The moment her lips were unsealed she took a deep breath. She hadn’t realized how much her breathing had been restricted. 

Peter reached back for her with a square of medical-grade adhesive remover. 

“Don’t touch me,” she spat, jerking her head out of his reach. He froze immediately, lifting his hands away where she could see them. Behind her, she pulled and tugged on the duct tape, the glue now having partially dissolved. She winced as she pulled her wrists apart.

“I was gonna get to that—”

She bit down on a yelp at the burn of the tape ripping off, taking bits of hair and drops of blood with it. She pulled her arms in front of her, revealing angry red welts on her wrists. Her shoulders felt like a stretched-out rubber band, tender to each movement. 

“Okay,” he nodded bitterly, frustration poking through. “Tape’s off. You’re bleeding. Well done—”

“Stay away from me!” she barked. She scooted back as far as she could away from him in the bathtub. Her eyes were wide and wild, like she really could bite him at any moment. He sat back on his ankles, staring at her. Displeased. 

“Take it easy,” he softly ordered, cool as ever.

“I-I don’t know who you are or-or what you’re into,” she babbled frantically. “But you—you better lemme go!” She panted heavily, words flowing out of her mouth, “My-my boyfriend is a cop! He tracks my phone. He’ll know I didn’t come home and-and when he turns on the tracker, he’ll see that I’m here... and he’ll bring fifty cops with him!”

Peter stared at her flatly, raising a brow. It was clear by his reaction that he wasn’t impressed. “Fifty?” he repeated, deadpan. “That’s a lot. Where’re they gonna park?”

“I’m serious!” she growled.

“Oh, yea-yeah, I know,” Peter nodded, pulling himself into a crouch at the tub. “This boyfriend of yours,” he added, swallowing grit as he said it, “he got a name?”

She blinked. “Jefferson.”

“Jefferson?”

“Scott.”

“Is it Scott or is it Jefferson? Is it Jefferson Scott?”

His mocking tone filled her with a flash of anger. She seethed, swearing at herself not to cry again. “Let me go!” she demanded with a glare. “And I promise, he won’t kill you when he finds me!”

The humor evaporated from his eyes like a droplet of water in a frying pan. “A promise?” Peter repeated, his cocky smile fading. He went motionless. Eyes dark. A chill shot down her spine. “Where was ‘Jefferson’ when Fisk’s men grabbed you tonight?” She swallowed hard. Refused to blink. “Really coulda used his help,” he bit off.

Her heart was beating faster than before. Pounding like a kickdrum beneath her ribs. His blackened eyes narrowed on her. “Do you have any idea,” he questioned bitterly, “what they would’ve done t’ya? If I hadn’t gotten there first?” 

The calm tone of his overt implications made her queasy again. He cocked his head to the side, waiting for a reply. 

She gulped. Steadied her voice. “Who's to say they don’t work for you?” 

“They don’t work for me,” Peter declared, ice in his eyes. 

“You expect me to believe—”

“They don’t work for me,” he repeated, as serious as a heart attack, “because I don’t employ assholes who beat on women.” He leaned forward, his chest puffing up, his words coming out in a low hiss. “Because if I want something done, I do it myself. Especially when it comes to protecting what’s mine.” His eyes narrowed, “And we both know you don’t have a boyfriend.” 

She blinked at him, dumbstruck. Peter declared through gritted teeth, “You could send fifty cops or fifty-thousand. If someone took my girl, I’d get there first. And there’s not a damn thing you could say to keep me from rippin’ him apart.”

She shifted backward, arms wrapped tightly around her body, stunned by the switch in demeanor. He sat across from her, quietly glaring, chest heaving with pent-up rage. Her throat felt tight. Her pulse pounded in her neck.

Seconds passed as they gazed at each other in a stalemate. He was the first to look away, his breathing conscientiously slowing down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, keeping his head turned away from her sight.

“Don’t lie to me,” Peter said, finally. “Ever.” He looked up at her, eyes a bit softer. “It’s very important that you never lie to me. When people lie to me, it puts me at a disadvantage. Makes it harder for me to protect the people I care about.” He sniffed, stowing his emotional baggage from earlier. “So please,” he gently requested, “don’t lie.”

He kept his eyes downward as if he was more interested in the state of the grout. She had witnessed him rear up like a cobra and now he was slinking away, sheepishly hiding from her gaze. 

There was that word again — protection. His focus is protecting the people he cares about. Protecting what’s his. She eyed him carefully, her muscles relaxing a bit. This was happening because she was a threat to him. Did that mean in some way, she had power over him? 

He wiped his nose with his forearm, still avoiding her eyes. “You hurt anywhere else?” She blinked up at him, confused. Her silence made him meet her gaze again, and this time the sympathy and remorse had returned. “Anywhere I can’t see?”

She stiffened once she caught his meaning. Breaking eye contact, she gazed down at the tiny bubbles coating the surface of the water. “Um... no.” She answered as honestly as she could. “I don’t... I don’t think so.” The statement felt like a lump in her throat. She felt her eyes burn again, and she angrily dared her body to defy her again. She couldn’t handle it.

“Okay,” he nodded. After a moment, he came to a quick stand. His orders flowed more formally. “There are towels over here. There’s a robe on the door. Cat’s gettin’ you some clothes. Should be here soon. Leave the wet stuff on the edge of the tub. When you’re done in here, come outside of the bedroom. I’ve got one more thing I need from you tonight, Honey.”

He turned on the leather sole of his heel and disappeared from her sight, as fast as ever. She sat in the rapidly cooling water of the tub, tenderly rubbing the swollen flesh of her wrists. She listened to his footsteps diminish. The door slammed, a bit too forcefully.

Alone, finally, she allowed herself to cry again.

About fifteen minutes after being left alone, she emerged from the main bedroom with a thick white terry robe blanketing her. With nothing but her thoughts and growing exhaustion, she decided not to keep Peter waiting too long. She’d completed each task on his list, as a good houseguest should. Or whatever she was.

She found him leaning back against the wall in the darkened hallway, hands in his pockets, musing quietly.  He turned to look at her with a much calmer mood. Both of them cooled off from their earlier spat, but an awkwardness remained. An elephant in the room neither of them wanted to address.

“C’mere,” Peter beckoned, jerking his head down the hall. “I wanna show you something.” He turned and approached a flight of stairs, descending it. She had no other option but to follow. 

They reached the main level of the residence where she took in the sight of an open-floor living room and kitchen surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows. Though it was night, this was the most well-lit area she had seen. It was spotless, and carried the same modern, refined-industrial aesthetic that she saw in the bathroom. 

She recognized the lanky teenager on the couch, sitting with arms crossed, head bobbing to music blaring out of over-the-ear headphones. Miles sat quietly in his own world, brow furrowed, as he focused on the beat of the music. 

Tapping away at her smartphone, the silver-haired woman from the car ride paced idly. She was even more gorgeous in person. Peter approached her, hands in his pockets, and nodded in Miles’ direction.

“What, is it time for a siesta?” Peter muttered disapprovingly.

The woman gave him a go-to-hell look. “Lay off, will ya? You know how he gets.”

“We need to keep our eyes open,” Peter responded grimly. “That means on alert, Felicia.”

“Jesus Christ, Parker,” she groaned with a petulant sigh. “Seriously?” The woman, Felicia, looked up incredulously at their houseguest, then back to her boss. “What happened to discretion? You wanna give her my social security number, too?”

“Where’s O’Hara?” Peter replied.

She rolled her eyes, dropping her arms. “Fuck it, then. In the basement with Brock. That’s Eddie Brock, if anyone here is taking notes for the FBI.” She turned, minding her phone again. “If you need me, I’ll be keepin’ my eyes open, with your credit card, waiting for the Postmates guy to deliver your lady friend a new wardrobe.” 

Peter rolled his eyes with a light scoff.

“And just for that, I’m buying myself my Christmas present from Fendi,” she called back, a deadpan tone. “Thanks, Boss. You really shouldn’t have.” 

Peter glanced over at his Honey, who was curiously watching the familial interaction in silence. He jerked his chin again, approaching a metal door frame near the foyer. “This way.”

He tapped a button on the wall, calling up an elevator. She shuffled uncomfortably on her bare feet, but then followed him into the tiny space. They stood together in silence as the elevator descended. 

Once it opened, they were in a dark, dingy, brick-laid fortress, a stark contrast from the exquisite rooms above. He stepped out of the elevator, and hesitantly, she followed, wishing she’d put on her boots. 

The space felt claustrophobic, littered with dust-covered junk. Mostly paper boxes. There was a table with an old computer that looked at least 30 years old, surrounded by glass beakers and antiquated lab equipment. She spotted a retro green chalkboard on castors, half-shrouded in a tarp. 

As much distance as she wanted to put between herself and Peter, she also crowded at his back. She felt cobwebs brushing her ankles, and the sensation made her want to fold herself up like origami.

They turned a corner and she froze. Mouth agape with horror. 

Bound and gagged in the middle of the basement was Katz. The man looked rough. Barely conscious. His face was bruised, bloodied, and jagged, the bones having been broken and rearranged. On either side, Miguel and another thick mass of man—Eddie Brock for anyone taking notes for the FBI—stood by. She watched Eddie anxiously as he wiped his hands with a blood-stained shop rag.

The sight of tortured man made her gag. Tears sprang to her eyes as she glanced away in terror.

“S’Okay,” Peter tutted, taking her by the shoulders and keeping her back to their tortured captive. She was grateful for that kindness, as it spared her the sight of the half-dead man.

“Remember I told you that you could trust me?” Peter asked, tilting his head towards her. She was gasping. Sucked in air, like a fish out of water. “Honey, look at me.” 

Her stomach quaked and she worried that she’d vomit. Despite this, she looked up at him. Once he had her attention, he went on. 

“This man works for somebody very dangerous,” he explained slowly. “He had direct orders to kidnap you and take you to one of his places. A mechanic’s shop near the docks on the Lower East Side that he uses for business. Once they had you there, he and a bunch of his friends were supposed to hurt you.”

Her chest heaved violently, tears flooding her vision. She shook her head and tried looking away. Felt faint. Like she was going to pass out. Gently, Peter hooked his fingertips beneath her chin, bringing her gaze to his.

“They were ordered to take pictures,” he softly added, more gentle with his choice of words, “and send them to me.” A heartbroken sob escaped her lips and he winced, as if the sound alone caused him physical pain. “Listen, listen, listen,” he cooed, shushing her. 

He dipped his head, leaning his forehead against hers. It was intimate. Too close for the relationship that they had, but at the same time, she was starving for it. The sensation of his warm skin against hers, the heat of his lungs ghosting on her face—they worked to ground her. She focused on what was happening and not what could have happened.

“I never got any pictures,” Peter explained tenderly. “He says they never got that far.” She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, her chin quivering. She leaned into the touch of his thumb gently stroking her jaw. When she could open her eyes again, she found his. His cocoa orbs gazing down at her compassionately. 

“Remember what I said about lies?” he asked with a kind voice. “Remember I asked you never to lie to me?”

Another quiet sob whimpered out. She nodded her head.

“Tell me the truth now, Honey,” he said. He lifted his forehead, gazing into her soul. “Is that the man that hit you?”

She shuddered at the memory. Terror gripping her. Heart pounding.

“Words, Honey,” he tutted gently. “I need you to say it. Tell me the truth.”

“Yes,” she whimpered in reply. She brought her hands up to cover her face, but he wouldn’t allow it. 

“Good girl,” he answered. “You don’t need to hide.”

The tears kept coming. “I can’t.... I can’t—”

“S’okay, we’re almost done,” he cooed, bringing a hand up to stroke her hair. “Now this part’s really important. I want you to think. I don’t want you to be afraid. Just think.” 

She cried even harder. Her body swayed. She felt like a lone tree being pummeled by a hurricane. As much as she wanted to collapse, he held her upright. “Please,” she begged, but she wasn’t sure what for. “I don’t want... I can’t...”

He wrapped his hands around her cheeks, his fingers reaching around her head. “Just look at me, Honey,” he replied. 

Sniffing hard, she complied. He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t decode. It was a blend of anger, sadness, and pain all at once. He swallowed hard, as if he was trying to steady himself.

“Tell me the truth,” he said with a voice void of its own breath. “Did this man, or any of the other men, hurt you?” She shook her head rapidly. “Did they touch you?”

“No,” she sobbed.

“Don’t lie—”

“No!” she shouted desperately. 

He exhaled slowly, letting out a breath he’d been holding. “Good,” he nodded, seeming to relax. His hands rubbed her arms, taking extra care around her shoulders. “That’s good.”

“Boss,” a voice called from behind them. She looked beyond Peter to see Miles standing anxiously near the elevator entrance. He wore a hollow expression. Breathed through his mouth only. “You think she could use some sleep?”

Peter gazed at the younger man, a mixture of grief and gratitude. “Yeah,” he nodded, blinking away tears that had begun to form at his lashes. “That’s a good idea. Take her upstairs, wouldya?”

Miles nodded once, and stepped forward. Hesitantly, Peter let go. Honey shot out of his arms like a spooked cat, clinging to Miles’ chest and burying her face there. Vicious sobs racked through her body. Miles placed a hand on her back and led her back out of the basement.

Peter watched her go sadly. Didn’t turn away until he heard the elevator doors close.

“So,” Eddie’s deep voice chimed in, fixing his grim blue-green eyes on Peter. “What now?”

Both Miguel and Eddie watched the tense curve of Peter’s shoulders. The balling of his fists. 

“Hammer,” he replied, voice as dark as night. Peter turned and stalked toward the captive. He snatched a bloodied hammer off a workbench nearby. Eyes widening with fear, Katz began to jerk in his seat, pulling desperately on his restraints. 

“You should be grateful, Nicky,” Peter sneered, acid in his voice. “This coulda gone another way.” He loomed over the captive, eyes blacker than oil, nostrils flaring. He gripped the handle so hard, it’s a wonder it didn’t snap in his hand.

“If I found out you were lyin’ to me,” Peter said, vengeance coating his voice, “I woulda gone for the pruning shears.”

Continue to Part 3

Back to Part 1.

A/N - Reblog to be tagged.

Every time you reblog, it supports free fandom writing. Thank you for your support!

[nine-blessed-hero]

Talis and the Illicit Mage

(or) Article 3 - Apprentices are Forbidden from Exiting University Grounds after Dark

Universe: TESIV: Oblivion CW: None Words: 355 Context: Written for the TES Summer Fest prompt: Forbidden Tagging: @tes-summer-fest, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

The bell chimed, letting in a gust of frigid air as the door opened. The day's light had disappeared over an hour ago, leaden clouds smothering even Masser's luminousness, leaving the guttering tallow to shed smokey orange flickering through the bakery, masking its usual pleasant, bready scent. Through the distorted glass of the display cabinet, where Talis knelt stocking up the freshly baked goods, he saw a tall figure in a long outfit enter the shop, blue and greens melding together. "Good afternoon, Magister," Rindir said. "What can I get for you?" The figure cleared their throat, then spoke in an overly plummy accent "Good afternoon. I was wondering if you had any Croline au Pomme." "Certainly–" "I'm afraid the lady won't be having anything," Talis said, shooting upright, "because the lady shouldn't be here."

His tray of pastries abandoned, Talis marched around the counter, catching the dunmer magister by her wrist and dragging her towards the back stairs. "Ow! Talis, that hurts…" Talis let go and looked into the cobalt face of the other mer, her normally puckish expression drooping into a moue. "What are you doing here, Sal?" he asked. "You're breaking so many rules! You know First Years aren't allowed out of the University grounds after dark, nor are they allowed into the City without an escort of a Third Year or higher–" "Memememurr," Salora wittered petulantly. "So I snuck out. Stop worrying so much, Tal. I can sneak back in. Tacher showed me this trick with paint-brushes–" "That is not the point!" Talis threw his hands up. "Mama wrote me. She told me what the disciplinary board said. You're supposed to be being a model student not… sneaking out just because you aren't getting your sweet fix. We have to get you back in, right now, before anyone notices you're gone." Salora fluttered her eyelashes. "Can't I have just one apple Croline? Please?" Talis gave a grumpy growl. "Fine. One." Salora's face lit up, only to fall again when Talis said, "I'll bring it over tomorrow with the Uni's usual order." "Boo, you're no fun." "Pull your hood up, we're leaving."

[just-an-enby-lemon]

DnD Night at Arkham

[They started it on Arkham as a form of group therapy and kept it after they scaped but on a special room on the Iceberg Lounge. Catwoman and Penguin entered later (via Harley and Riddler insidtence respectivaly) and Joker was banned because he kept geting Nat 20s in all his rolls]

.

Riddler: You rescue the hostage. He is a simple human lumberjack. He offers you wood as a payment.

Poison Ivvy: Is the wood ethically sourced?

Riddler: He is a human lumberjack in a medieval scenario I don't think he even knows what ethically sourced wood is.

Poison Ivvy: I cast poison spray on his face. How dare he hurt the trees!

Riddler: Let me roll... You know what, no, he is a normal middle aged lumberjack. He just dies.

Penguin: NO! I wanted that wood! I could have sold it!!

Catwoman: Didn't he had some important information? Pam?!

Poison Ivvy: Well he should had ethically sourced his wood!

Penguin: Edward bring him back right now!

Riddler: I can't just bring him back! Pamela killed him. You should have tried to stop her. Do not blame me, I'm just the DM. By the way your next encounter are his wife and kids.

-

Scarecrow: I cast fear!

Riddler: *rolls dice multiple times* The soldiers fail their test. They are terrifield.

Scarecrow: Good. What are they seeing? What is their fear reaction? How is their heart rate?

Riddler: That's it! Every single time you cast fear you force me to do a ridiculously long description of their reactions no one else cares about. *the other Rogues agree* Please stop.

Scarecrow: People react to fear differently and afraid of different things, Edward, and is my mission to study it.

Riddler: They all see a monster and run.

Scarecrow: That's unrealistic. Not a single one paralyzes? No one screams? They all have the same monster as their biggest fears? Did they had a similar traumatic experience? But even so it wouldn't explain they all having the same reaction. Honestly, that's truly not how real people act.

Riddler: They aren't REAL, Crane. They are FAKE PEOPLE I just MADE UP. They act in any way I want.

Scarecrow: Oh so they are a reflection of your fear of losing control!

Riddler: You keep that and you're out.

Scarecrow: So if I just described their fears and reactions would it make you anxious because you lost control over your "fake people".

Riddler: Anyway is Two-Face's turn. Also Crane you characther is poisoned. He acidentaly steped in a poisonous plant while trying to analyse the soldiers fears.

Scarecrow: That's not fair.

Riddler: Two-Face?

.

Harley: Can I cast a illusion spell to pretend to be his dead wife?

Riddler: I'm interresed. Make your roll.

Mr. Freeze: Don't do that. It's too cruel, this poor man deserves better.

Two-Face: He separated our group in different torment chambers and he is trying to kill us!

Mr. Freeze: But his dead wife! He clearly loves her still and loves her soo much.

Catwoman: I think that's the point...

Riddler: It's up to Harley.

Harley: Does he has a dead daughter?

Riddler: Does he?

Harley: *rolls* NAT 20!

Riddler: He does. He loved her even more than his wife.

Harley: I pretend to be his dead daugther.

Mr. Freeze: See way less cruel.

.

Riddler: *starts giggling*

Two-Face: ugh.

Harley: oh no.

Penguin: Is another puzzle maze isn't it?

Catwoman: Please don't be another puzzle maze.

Riddler: Is not a puzzle maze!

*everyone celebrates*

Riddler: You guys see yourselfs trapped in a beutifull, amazing, perfectly done... death trap! : )

*everyone boos*

.

MadHatter: Can I kiddnap his kid, Dormouse?

Riddler: You can?????!

Catwoman: Why? Why do you want to kiddnap the royal's guard kid?

MadHatter: She has a Cheshire cat.

Scarecrow: Is not a Cheshire Cat is just a cat called Cheshire.

MadHatter: Same thing, March Hare.

Harley: Kiddnap the cat!

MadHatter: But than she'll be alone. If I take booth of them, they will be together as Alice and the Cheshire Cat. She'll be ny daugther and we will be a Woonderland family.

Poison Ivvy: Her name is Ophelia.

MadHatter: If I succeed in kidnapping her can I change her name, Dormouse?

Riddler: I supose?

Two-Face: Don't fucking encourage him, Nygma!

.

Two-Face: I attack the sphinx with my sword of shadows. *rolls the dice* Dammit Nat 1.

Riddler: Your paladin tries to attack the sphinxs, his sword does no damage. The sphinxs smiles cruely. How dare you try to solve matters of the mind with muscles??? YOU TRULY ARE ALL BRAWL AND NO BRAINS! YOU ARE THROWED AGAINST THE WALL. YOUR HP DROPS TO ONE. NOW YOUR ONLY CHANCE IS TO SOLVE THE IMPOSSIBLE RIDDLE. HOW DARE YOUR MORAL PALADIN OF JUSTICE THINK HE COULD JUST PUNCH ME AWAY? YOU HAVE NO CHANCE DARK NIGHT! NO CHANCE AT ALL AHAHAHA. TODAY IS THE END OF BATMAN AHAHAHAHA *everyone looks at Riddler* *he blushes* i mean ... is harley's turn...

.

Two-Face: I steal his sword. I finally have two swords!

Harley: But both need two hands to use.

Two-Face: Perfection.