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mimiiis · 2 days ago

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Must Be Love Pt.1 — Regency Au! Price x Fem! Reader

summary: A general looking to marry for duty and a girl looking for a love match, what could go wrong?

warnings: n/a

work count: 5.9k

a/n: this was low-key supposed to be a small series of blurbs but I couldn't help myself, full on fic/series !! hope you guys enjoy </3

I’ve been rewatching Bridgerton and got to thinking…Regency!Price.

General John Price, who has come back to London during the marriage season to find himself a wife after deciding it was about time for him to do so. It just so happens to be that you are a new debutante, foisted out onto the marriage market and ready to be wed. 😚🤭

☆☆☆

The General had just recently returned to London, ready to marry and not hesitant to announce his intentions on what brought him back into the city. It was not long until everyone got the word that he was looking for a bride. Respectable men were not entirely few and far in the ton, but to find a truly accomplished man who came from a respected family was almost rare. Where most men were seen coming in and out of brothels almost daily , John Price was hardly seen indulging in such…pleasures. But in fairness, he was away from the watchful eyes of society for many periods of time, and no one knew much about him. With his return and new step into the marriage market, it is the first ball of the season that changed everything in his life.

The first ball was always so exciting, uncertainty of what the night may bring lurked at every corner of the room. Ladies practically flocked to him, their mamas right behind them as he struggled to fill out each dance card he was presented with. The general was more than polite, making his intentions clear and being his usually charming self. The ladies giggled and flirted, trying to impress him with their many accomplishments and the status of their families. He would simply nod and listen to them ramble with each passing dance. Though as the night drew on longer, the more he began to worry.

He hadn’t truly realized how hard it would be to properly court a woman in his position. He knew that as general he would not be with his wife for long, that he would be away longer than he would ever be with her. He saw no point in growing an attachment, inevitable heartbreak and hate would follow if he did. Every young lady he talked to seemed too eager, practically begging to be loved and adored. He knew he would have to find a wife willing to accept the conditions that awaited, someone he can establish a decent, or even good, relationship with. It did not hurt him to turn down several young ladies, he knew it was for the better. Yet somewhere, deep inside of his heart, he ached for the same kind of fondness they did.

☆☆☆

The ballroom erupted in a wave of applause and laughter as the dance finished, your chest heaving after performing the lively routine. The young lord you had entertained left with a bow, kissing your hand before leaving to go grab himself a cup of punch. You smiled at him, bidding him a good night before walking to your mama. Droplets of sweat formed at the corners of your hair, slowly falling down your skin as you tried to hide away behind your mother. She stood at the corner of the room, hidden away by a crowd of people who rushed by.

“What did you think of him? Lord Langley?” She asks you, handing you her fan as you plant your back against the wall. You quickly take it, opening it and blowing air in your direction as you finally took what felt like your first breath in hours. Your cheeks burned as your feet ached from dancing for so long. You could feel the boning of the corset digging into your skin as you slouched over slightly.

“He is kind. Rather handsy. Not an exact fit.” You breathe out, still winded as your mother placed a handkerchief against your forehead. “None of them will be, my dearest, if you keep holding them up to such an impossible standard.” She states, grabbing you by your shoulders as straightening your posture. You groan, letting her smooth out your crinkled skirts out and continue to wipe off the sweat from your brow.

“I know what I want and I will not hesitate to find it.” You argue back, pushing her hands away from you. You step back a few paces, giving yourself more room to breathe. You hadn’t considered how stuffy a ballroom might feel with more than half of the ton packed into a tight space. It almost made your head spin, a slight ache creeping up at the back of your head. Dread began to fill you at the impending headache, but you shook your head in an attempt to ignore it.

“You will spend a lifetime searching if you do not let it come naturally.” She tells you, shaking her head. You eye her, considering her words before you catch sight of a footman walking by. Your mother watches you reach for a glass of champagne from his tray, slapping your hands away the second you move them. You gasp, glaring at her as she dismisses the man away.

“That is not fair-“

“You can drink to your heart's content when you are married.” She argues, locking her arm in yours as she begins to pull you back into the eyes of society. So much for a few minutes to hide away. “You really must consider and think about a second plan. What will happen if you cannot find the love match you so desperately desire, hm? What then?”

You groan once more, embarrassment heating heating your cheeks. Her speech and the way she still talked to you as if you were a child sent a wave of shame over you. You wanted to crawl back into the corner of the room, to get away from her at any cost as she continued to scold you for having “such impossible standards.” But you cannot, not after you spent so long convincing her to even allow you to have a say in who you married. She gives you an inch, might as well take a mile.

“There is no second plan. I will get what I want, no matter how long it takes me.” You stubbornly reply, voice in a hushed whisper as you politely smile at other young ladies passing by. “What is so hard about finding a love match anyways? Is it simply not the process of meeting someone and just knowing? That is how you described what happened to you with father, I will not settle for anything less.”

“It is…much more than just that.” She repeats the same words she always has, never elaborating further. For the woman meant to help you through the marriage season, she was certainly not helpful. You glance at her for a second, the usual disappointment filling you. You start to search the dance floor for a man to sweep you back up into the crowd. Anything to get away from her right now. You watch as all the lords and men you had previously danced with talk and laugh amongst themselves or other young ladies, your own friends being taken up with suitors or being pulled to one by their mamas. It was a never ending sea of controlled chaos, dresses swishing and feet stomping as the sea of dancing color passed you.

“Where is Johnny?” Your mother suddenly asks. The arm she had locked with your slips away and rises to your shoulder, helping her balance as she begins to stand on her tiptoes, looking over the crowd around you two. “Shall he really miss your first ball?” Her brows furrow, scanning every corner of the room before falling back onto her heels. You shake your shoulder, brushing her hand off of you as the topic of your brother sours your mood. “I do not think Jonny cares about the affairs of young ladies.”

“Do not be so negative, he is your brother-“

“And he still does not care.” You say with a bite in your tone, making your mother furrow her brows, but you only continue you scan the room for a way out of her grasp.

It took a few seconds, but you finally caught sight of a man one of your friends said was serious about his courtship this year. “Besides, he need not bother himself with my business unless a suitor is asking for my hand, yes?” You flash her a faux smile as you slowly begin to pull away from her side. “I am going to get a glass of punch, I will be back.” You told her before hurriedly walking and escaping between the cracks of the surrounding crowd to get away from her. You walked as fast as you could without raising any alarm to others, her shouts and protests falling on deaf ears as you managed a good distance between the two of you. You were able to get across the dance floor and near the table of desserts, not stopping until you found a rather hidden corner to further disappear into.

You sigh and giggle to yourself as you look back, making sure she was not following and in fact far from you. A smile creeps up onto your lips as you watch her try to carefully push through the crowd. She excuses herself, getting stopped by other Ladies and Mamas on her way towards you. Frustrating builds on her face, eyes glancing every second back to you as she is forced to make small talk. A giggle leaves your lips as you watch the aftermath of your small victory. You straighten your shoulders and hold your head high as you walk backwards, keeping an eye and planning on disappearing from her view when she looks away once more. But the moment is short lived as you suddenly bump into someone.

Your back crashes into an elbow, the bone hitting between your shoulder blades and causing you to groan at the sudden pain, back going stiff and straight as a slight ache begins to spread throughout. You yelp, whipping your body around and groaning at the discomfort the swift movement caused. You begin to stutter out apologies, explaining how you didn’t know where you were, how you weren’t looking and all sorts of nonsense without even looking at who you were speaking to. The words jumbled together into a string of incoherent mumbles, but your mouth stops when you finally look up. Your body freezes, mouth falling into a small ‘o’ as you look at the man before you. It's strange, you would assume to find a frown and displeased face looking at you. But to your surprise, the man seems to give you the kindest smile, and breathes out the softest of laughs.

Your eyes meet his, and you can't recall ever having seen someone look at you so… fondly? He was tall, a strong and fit body, shoulders stiff and broad as the deep red of his suit makes him look all the more alluring. His hair was brushed back though it still appeared as a soft mess when paired with the beard he sported. You had never put much thought into what you would think a real man would be like, but good god, if he was not it. You continue to study him, practically entranced by the way he looks, until you see his lips begin to part in question and quickly snap out your thoughts, shaking your head and closing your still slightly agape mouth. “Apologies, Sir, I truly did not see you.” You bow your head slightly and part your eyes from his.

He smiles and replies, “It is quite alright, Miss.” His voice was deep and gruff, the sound made your knees want to buckle. “Are you hurt? I myself must apologize for not having seen you either,” he looks at you with worry, remembering how harshly you bumped into him. “Ah!” You exclaim, suddenly feeling a slight discomfort between your shoulders but quickly dismissing it. “I’m simply a bit shaken, that’s all. Though I must ask if I did not hurt you either, my lord..?” Your voice drifts off in question, waiting for the man to introduce himself.

The sound of the title has him letting out a small huff of a laugh,“I am not a lord, Miss, but a general. General John Price, Miss. Mr.Price would do just fine if you do not mind,” He replies with a small shake of his head and a hint of amusement in his voice. Embarrassment immediately fills you as his words process in your head. Your cheeks heat and eyes widen and the urge to crawl into the deepest hole you can find consumes you as more apologies spill from your lips. “I-I’m sorry I didn't mean to-! It is just that so many of the men present here are lords and the title has become a natural response to say to any man I speak to that I-agh!” You stutter and ramble on again, but soon stop yourself from further embarrassment by placing a hand on your awfully loud mouth. “I must stop.” Your eyes look away from what you expect to be a judgemental or annoyed gaze this time, but when you glance back up, it is still neither of those.

“I must admit I had grown rather tired of not being able to get away from you young ladies this evening, but out of all I have spoken to today, you seem to be the most amusing.” He jokes, that laugh of his loud and brighter than before. The sound makes you relax and a sense of comfort washes over you. The rest of the world seems to drown in the sound and sight of him. A man with a large presence and contagious energy, how had you not seen him? You watch the way his chest rises and falls in his chuckles and how he slightly throws his head back with each “hah”. Before you know it, your hand is falling from your mouth.

“Oh, is that so? I must say the same for the men, you all are at every corner and yet I haven’t found a single one worthy of a good conversation.” You joke back, a playful smirk making its way onto your lips. His smile widens at your comment and the same spark of mischief in your eye ignites in his.

“Truly? Have they all been so boring?”

“Terribly so, I could not even last a minute speaking to them.”

“I must apologize for my fellow men then, for they do not seem up to the challenge of courtship.”

You giggle at his words, he chuckles in return. “Of that you are right, Sir. In fact, I do not think I’ve ever wished for interesting company to arrive so much as now.” You jest.

“It seems we are both in luck then. For here I am with you. And you, with me.” The humorous tone of his voice drifts into one of sincerity, flirtatiousness. The hair at the back of your neck rises and your back straightens at the shift in mood. You gulp, feeling his eyes on you, looking at you– truly looking at you now. “Here we are.”

Your eyes meet once more, only neither of you look away or speak this time. You’ve had to look into the eyes of many men this evening, and you’ve found the saying of the eyes being windows to a person's soul to be true. You could tell when a man only wanted a marriage for money or influence, how they felt about the young lady they were dancing with, who they truly wanted and set their sights on even with a glance. And the way he looked at you, oh it scared you. You can’t recall someone ever looking at you like this. It made your breath catch, heart race, and wonder if the truth in his eyes was not a lie. There was a glint of light in the blue of his eyes, and you realize the look he’s giving you. Almost as if you amuse him, as if he likes you. And you find yourself feeling the same.

It’s as if the realization dawned on both of you at the same time, the mutual attraction, for a comfortable silence soon followed. You both continue to stare, smiling as the two of you seem to breathe in time together. Waiting…Waiting to ask or be asked the same question. Will you dance with me?

You wanted this to happen, it is what you were looking for. To feel that click, the instant gravitation to one person in a sea of people, and it was here. Standing right in front of you– only you were not prepared for how it would feel. You wanted to revel in it, shout at the top of your lungs ‘I told you I could!’ to your mother and friends who said you that what you wanted was impossible. Here, in front of you, the moment you’ve waited for. All that was left was for either of you to seal it, to grab each other's hand and spend the night talking, to form a proper and real courtship. The possibility made your heart flutter, though only off of a feeling and small conversation, you think you found what you were looking for. But you could only have peace for so long. A hand suddenly wraps itself around your arm and pulls your attention away from the man in front of you. Your damned mother. “General Price, how nice it is to see you!” The woman exclaims in surprise, her arm yanking your body behind her and away from him. ‘You were being improper’ she would later say. The General’s eyes widen at the sudden interruption, but he is quick to compose himself with a smile and nod of his head. “My lady,” he greets her.

“I see you have met my daughter, I do hope she has not been bothersome, she has a rather… colorful personality!” Your mother snides, a false laugh falling from her lips as you roll your eyes.

“Of course not, she and I were having a rather enjoyable conversation.” He replies, eyes drifting to yours. You let out a weary smile, facial expression screaming “I am sorry!” as best as you could. His gaze softens at you in understanding before in looking back to your mother and further exchanging formalities with her. How are you, where have you been, and other such things they discuss before it is cut to a quick end by the woman.

“It has been a pleasure to see you again, good Sir, but I am afraid it is time for my daughter and I to retire. I do hope we will see you again.” She smiles, looking your way to give you a stern look, ‘let’s go’ she seems to say. You nod lightly, watching as they exchange goodbyes before your mother leaves to fetch the carriage.

You watch her go and before long the two of you are alone again, standing in a rather awkward air after your mother had interrupted your previous conversation. Neither you say anything, trying to find the words as your feet shuffle in tune with that of the music. You play with your fingers, pulling and twisting at them, unsure of what to say before seeing the man open his mouth.

“For how short it was, I did enjoy our talk.” He says sincerely.

You grin, cheeks heating at the simple words. “I do hope you choose to call.” You nod your head politely, watching him do the same before walking away. Butterflies swirl in your stomach, eyes widening in shock the second your back is turned to him. Your first day, your first night and ball as a debutant, and you think you may have found a man you would like to marry. Foolish wishing, others would tell you if they knew you thought this. So you never shared it. You would not whisper it to a soul, but keep it inside a pocket of your heart only to be spoken until the wish comes true.

It is not long until you are on your way back home, sitting across from your mother in your carriage. The street lights illuminate the carriage as you pass through town, the fabric of your dress shining as you play the flimsy material along your thighs. You yawn, sleeping creeping and taking over you from the change of chaos to quiet tranquility. You’re slouching forward, the ache in your back growing and not letting you sit straight.

Your mother scolded you, but laughed, when you told her why it hurt to do so. You rolled your eyes before looking out the window and thinking of Mr. Price. You wanted to ask your mother how they knew each other, why she pulled you away so quickly, what she thought of him. But you spoke not, shaking the thoughts out of your head and happy enough with the idea that you will see him again tomorrow. A love match to be made.

☆☆

General John Price tiredly makes his way to the far end of White’s furnished bar. The club had a signature smell of tobacco and thick wood polish, smoke and cups of brandy filled his vision in a stark contrast to the flowery and bright ballroom he had just made his way from. To be fair, he did not want to come here so late in the night, but an old friend invited him and the man was not one to break a promise. He approached a group of men at a far back table, all talking over a game of cards with several cups half full and empty scattered across the table. John made his way towards the chair on the farthest end, giving the man who sat in it a good strong pat.

“Johnny boy!” He greets. The man in the chair looks back, jumping in surprise before a wide smile appears as he realizes who is in front of him.

“Price! I dinnae think you’d come, old man.” The man, Johnny, exclaims before standing to properly shake and give the General a hug. They share a laugh and exchange pleasantries before Johnny introduces him to the other Lords who he was previously talking to. Price recognized a few from the ball, he had wondered where they had wandered off so early.

“I assume yer awfully tired from havin’ many young girls stepping on yer toes tonight, aye?” Johnny jokes, leading Price away from the group and to the bar. He orders them a whiskey each, the glasses clinking as they share a toast to the older man’s coming back to town. Price shakes his head lightly, “I will admit that I underestimated just how…draining this prospect would be.” John sighs, downing the glass in front of him with one gulp. He plays with the rim of his glass and watches the remaining drops swirl in the dim light of the room, he thinks of how many young ladies there were and it was only the first night. Each was as pretty and delicate as a flower, bright smiles and rosy cheeks but altogether, desperate and grasping onto any man who looked their way. Though he could not blame them, it was what they were born and raised to do, it was all they knew to do.

“Exactly why I haven’t taken on the task myself. Yer stronger than I’ll ever be Cap’in,” Johnny chuckles, taking a sip from his own glass. “Did you meet a lass you might set your sights on?” The younger man grins, nudging the elder as he notices his eyes drifting down in thought at the question.

“I found a Miss I am to call on tomorrow. She seems agreeable, timid but with a sense of humour and not as” he pauses to find the right word, “eager as the other ladies. Though her mother stepped in before I could invite her for a dance. Does not matter, we have a whole season to talk and dance and do what people do in courtship. If all goes well, I may have a wife soon.” Price says, going back to fidgeting with his glass. As he looks at it though, he can't help but think about the girl. From the way they met, to her mannerisms, she truly did intrigue him. Only now that he looked back on their interactions does he feel as if he forgot something. He moves the glass back and forth, watching the light seep through and glimmer– trying to remember something important he has forgotten but cannot seem to place.

“A Mrs.Price, at last!” Johnny exclaims, Price rolls his eyes. “And do tell, my dear friend, what is her name?”

John freezes at the words. His eyes widened and head rising in a swift motion. He stares at Johnny, shock and realization written all over. That’s what he forgot. Johnny catches on immediately, eyes widening with his friends.

“Dinnae tell me…”

“I did not catch it.”

The men look at each other a second longer before Johnny begins to shake his head. “Now how in the hell do ye forget to ask a lass her name, John? You’re the general, for christ sakes, aren’t ye supposed to have a strategic battle plan for everything ye do?” He lets out a dramatic sigh, brows furrowing and going to rub his temples in disappointment. Price slouches and rubs his eyes with his palms, trying to wipe away the fog of his mind.

“I figured I did not need to ask as I knew her mother, she was an old family friend. It has just occurred to me I never knew who she married. The girl and I met in a rather odd situation as well, I didn't even have time to ask her.”

Johnny slowly chuckles in disbelief at his words, “That poor girl is going to be truly devastated when you don’t show up tomorrow morning.”

“Mactavish,” John says his name sternly, eyeing the younger man in warning.

Johnny holds his hands up in surrender, before grabbing his unfinished glass of whiskey and downing the remaining contents. The men sit together in silence, waiting and thinking for a kind of solution to help with the unfortunate circumstance.

“I tell ye what,” Johnny interrupts after a few moments, “My sister, she’s in her first year as a debutante and friends with almost half of the lassies in Mayfair. Come over in the morning, and I believe we can ask for her help identifying your bonnie, aye?”

The proposal interested John enough to consider it, to think of how it would play out. “She would not mind?”

“Nay, all I’ve got to do is tell her yer a friend, that’ll put you off as a potential suitor and help yer little predicament.” Johnny grins, with teeth, for having thought of the idea. In all fairness, it was not the best or brightest plan, but who is John Price, a General of the British Armies to say no to a friend simply trying to help him.

☆☆☆

You awake at the crack of dawn, a giddy and anxious feeling bubbling in the pit of your belly from the second you opened your eyes. It was with you the whole morning– as your maid helped you dress, as you ate breakfast, as you talked to your mother and brother of what bachelors you predict may come to call.

“Lord Harding was quite taken with you last night, my dear. As well as Lord Langley and even Mr. Anderson, their mothers and I spoke of what a handsome match you would be with either of them. They are agreeable men, are they not Johnny?” Your mother says, sitting across from you on a plush settee and drinking a cup of tea. Johnny, who was sitting in the chair nearest to the window and farthest from you replies with a nod. “Aye, though Anderson’s got a taste for losing a pretty sum every time he’s at the club.” He comments, looking out the window as if waiting for something. Your mother lets out a small ‘ah’ and nods her head at the information. You roll your eyes and manage to bite your tongue. It was too exciting of a day to waste your energy bickering with him.

“I talked to another gentleman as well last night.” You share instead. Johnny turns his head toward you, slightly tilted in questions.

“Aye, did ye?” Johnny questions you, doubt in his voice. He looks back out the window when the noise of a carriage passes by– not even bothering to hear your answer. “Yes, I did. He was kind, kinder than the other men I talked to all night.” You reply, brows furrowing and staring daggers at him. “Oh please, darling, I hardly doubt he’d come today. You did not share a dance, or even speak for that long.” Your mother says, making you slightly frown and look to her.

“Perhaps after your next meeting he shall come to see you. And does he not seem a bit older to you? Would you not prefer a younger man, closer to your age? Remember, we have the whole of the season to find you a match, my love. Try not to think of him and focus on the men who do come today, yes?” You sigh, fighting your frown from deepening at her words. You try to slouch in your corset (which was pulled tighter today) to help the still aching injury on your back. Your mother catches you and lets out a ‘tsk’, a reminder that she is watching your every move. You almost start to argue with her, already upset and bothered. Your mouth opens and brows furrow but are interrupted before you can get any words out.

‘Excuse me,” Johnny suddenly coughs. “But it appears as if we already have guests.” He slowly stands from his chair and makes his way to sit next to your mother. They would be your chaperones for the evening and any other event for the season. You know that he would rather not be here, but your mother had to remind him of his duty. To you, and to the family.

“How exciting! Now remember,” Your mother exclaims before assessing you with her eyes, “smile, be kind, and do not push too hard on the whole…love match aspect. We want our guests to feel welcome and to get to know them, yes?” You nod obediently, not minding her words. Such control, the woman wanted. From your hair to your shoes and dress, she tried her best to dress and present you as a pretty doll. “Yes, mother.” You nod once more, your lip forming into a thin line of a smile as you manage to sit up straight and mentally ready yourself.

Many suitors came to call, the room filling with men and the sound of laughter as the day went on. They brought you flowers, boxes of chocolate, and some even went as far as bringing you a pair of earrings with your favorite jewels. The room was filled with gifts and men by noon, the energy and rushing making you grow weary by the third gentleman caller. It was strange, having so many eyes on you and being the center of attention. To have men try to entertain you with their small talk and aspirations in marriage and life, hoping you’d pick and entertain them back.

Through it all, you kept thinking of Mr.Price. In the few minutes you spoke together, it did not feel like this at all. You wondered if it would be the same in your next meeting, if you would be tense or if he would be as welcoming as before. Every time a suitor left or came, you looked toward the door for any sight of him. You wanted to sight in disappointment each time you did not see him. The ache in your back only reminded you of him furthermore which each movement you made, his presence there even if he wasn’t.

The whole of the morning felt so unnatural. Saying all the practiced and calculated responses your mother taught you, not like you at all. Even watching her speak to the callers, seeing her smile and compliment you so kindly felt like you were a part of some grand facade and did not know your role in it. As exciting as it was, it was also quite terrifying. The mountain of expectations was a weight you could not shake off of your shoulders.

It was strange to think, but to find any kind of normality throughout it all, you looked to Johnny. He sat at the window seat again, glancing over to watch you and your mother every few seconds, just as before. His presence grounded you, even if distant. While your mother put on an act, he was still himself. Your distant, kind but irritating, brother.

You were in the middle of speaking to your mother's preferred suitor, Lord Harding, when you saw Johnny rise from his seat and excuse himself from the room. Your eyes follow him, and you can’t help but feel a small sense of disappointment and sadness watching him go. Of course he wouldn’t stay. You thought to yourself, but quickly shake the thought from your head and continue your conversation with the man beside you.

“The gardens in my family home are quite beautiful, each rose bush having been planted and cared for since the start of my family's lineage. My mother hopes to host a ball near the end of the season, I hope I am able to show them to you soon.” The man says to you, his voice sincere and kind.The gentleman was kind and respectful, young and handsome with a sort of boyish charm that made talking to him a bit easier than the other callers. “I would be most delighted to.” You reply with a smile, ready to ask him more about his family home when you see your brother walk back into the room from the corner of your eye. You hadn’t expected him to come back, much less with a guest. You move your body slightly, turning to see who it was he came back with.

What you saw next, you did not expect.The sight shocks you. Your eyes widen, a gasp leaves you, and your heart almost leaps out of your chest when you realize who was with your brother. Your mother, who has been sitting across from you, follows your line of sight. Her eyes widen slightly as well, before a sigh leaves her lips.

Johnny’s guest locked eyes on you the second he stepped in the room.

“Mr.Price.” The name leaves your mouth before you can even think.

“Miss…Mactavish.” He looks just as shocked as you were. His eyes widen, but the same soft smile from last night makes its way upon his lips.

“What?” Johnny cuts in. You both look towards him the second he speaks. Confused, and almost upset, Johnny's eyes meet yours. You open your mouth, ready to explain, but he only looks back to the man at the door.

Now, you have seen him upset a handful of times, but in those times you knew what to do. Knew what to say, knew when to walk away. But looking at him look at Price, all you could do was hold your breath.

Oh hell.

Thank you for reading </3!! Comments and reblogs are v much appreciated! If you have any insights please leave them kindly!!

A/n: This chapter was meant to be a bit silly, but im not sure if i was able to do it that well🥲 Also my first time writing a Scottish accent for Johnny! Apologies if i got anything wrong. More to come soon and I hope you all enjoyed 🩵💖!!

#☾☼mims writes #regency!141 #regency au #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #cod fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #tf 141 x reader #141 x reader #john price x y/n #john price fanfiction #bridgerton au #regency!price #my writing #fan fic writing #fanfiction

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shecriestotheclickingoftime · 2 days ago

Text

for the first time - 1.2k words

ex!Patrick Zweig x college!reader

you guys... i wrote something... and it ends abruptly but i felt like i'd rather post this and then post a follow-up later than keep this in the drafts for another 2 months...

inspired by "For The First Time" by Mac Demarco

based off of a request from a long time ago from @rayhalloffame but then i got inspired by the mac demarco song and lost the original plot- my sincerest apologies for that... (so so so sorry that this was so late and also that i lost the plot...)

basically patrick is your ex and you went off to college trying to forget about him, avoided him for a couple years, but this year you've brought back your new (shitty) boyfriend, taken him to your hometown bar, where patrick also happened to be.

tw! for drinking, also abrupt ending, also im not the best writer but i wanted to contribute something...

~~~~~~~~~~~

While she’s been away

Living day-to-day has been tough

Without her by my side

Simply being alive has been rough

And though she won’t be gone forever

There are many times I find it feels that way

And I’m not trying to forget her

Just understand how I’ll be feeling on that day

The bar was surprisingly packed, even for a Saturday night, and the overlapping conversations around him were so loud, it was hard for Patrick to even hear his own thoughts.

It was the weekend before thanksgiving, and it seemed that everyone was back in town for the holiday. Patrick recognized the faces of a lot of his old classmates from high school around him, but not you.

He knew that you’d come back to town the past few years for the holidays, but he somehow never saw you out. He figured that you must’ve been avoiding him. You two hadn’t seen each other since the summer before you went off to college, the summer that you broke up with him.

He could remember it vividly: it was a hot July day, and you had told him to come over. You opened the door, looking like you had been crying for a while, having that closed-off look that Patrick hated.

“I just… can’t go off to college with a boyfriend from back home. Long distance never works.”

Those exact words had been engraved in his mind since that day. Patrick Zweig had never been one for commitment, but something about you was different. Losing you had felt like losing part of himself. But he wanted you to do well in college, so he accepted it. And moved on.

Or, at least, he tried to. But even two and a half years later, things without you still didn’t feel right. Patrick felt pathetic; still stuck on some old childhood friend-turned-high school sweetheart that definitely wanted nothing to do with him. But, he still cared.

So, here he was, standing next to his best friend Art, who had just come back from Stanford, in the middle of a loud, rowdy bar full of college kids. He already knew that you’d be avoiding him again this break, like you’d done for the past two years, but it didn’t sting any less to know that he’d go another year missing you, while you were off at college living your own life.

Without her by my side

Simply being alive has been rough

It was right then that he saw you across the bar, standing in a group of girls that you’d been friends with back in high school, looking even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

You hadn’t noticed Patrick yet, and he was sure that when you did, you’d shut down and push him away again. You’d avoided him for so long, he was surprised that you two had even ended up in the same place.

Next to you was some guy, standing stiffly and looking completely uninterested in whatever conversation you were having with your friends. It felt like a knife had just been shoved into Patrick’s stomach. He figured that you’d move on eventually, and he’s been with girls that he met on tour since he’d dated you anyways, but seeing you, with this boring, pretentious-looking guy felt unbearable.

That “guy” was your boyfriend, of about 6 months now, that you’d finally brought home to meet your family. He was boring, and uninterested in the things that you liked, but he was stable, and seemed like a good option for you. So, you two had started dating.

Everything with him was just… ok. He had a habit of talking down to you, making you feel dumb, and explaining things to you that you’d already known. He didn’t put much care into the relationship, he had never gotten you flowers or anything, but that’s just what guys are like, right? He treated you just fine, and you guys didn’t fight much, so it must be a good match. But something for you was just missing.

He just… wasn’t Patrick. As much as you resisted admitting it to yourself, deep down you knew that you missed him. Which was basically why you had avoided him at all costs for the past two years, knowing that as soon as you’d start talking again, your progress of “moving on” would be completely wiped away.

But now, the winter break of your junior year in college, you’d started to be less careful about avoiding the popular spots. Maybe it was just you being careless, or maybe you were hoping that you’d see him somewhere, at the bar, or the club, and have the “chance encounter” that’s been replaying in your daydreams since you started dating your current boyfriend.

So, already on your third drink of the night, you couldn’t look away when you locked eyes with Patrick Zweig. God, he looked good. He’s gotten more toned from tour, and you’d forgotten just how tall he was. You could feel your boyfriend standing like a statue beside you, scrolling on his phone while your friend updated the group on all of the hometown gossip. But you couldn’t look away from Patrick. And he knew it.

Before you could fully process it, Patrick Zweig was there, standing in front of you. After two years. You wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look he was trying to keep pressed onto his face, but you could see the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at you. He looked so much… softer with you than he did with anyone else. You’d forgotten about that.

Even your friends smiled when he joined the circle, standing across from you with an almost sheepish smile. Against all odds, they liked him as your boyfriend. At least more than they liked this stuck-up finance bro that you’d brought home this year. As your boyfriend, Patrick had almost become one of the girls, always joining in on a gossip sesh with you all as he held you on his lap, while this current guy acted like he was above that kind of “girly stuff”.

And you just wanted to fall back into his arms. And god, he wanted that too.

But the idle chatter kept going, as you looked at the ground in silence. Your boyfriend didn’t pay any attention to your current state, he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation anyways. But Patrick did, he always did.

“So… how have you been?” he asked, as you looked up hesitantly. And, at his voice, your boyfriend finally looked up from his phone.

“She’s been good,” your boyfriend said, his face contorting into a bitter snarl. “I’m her boyfriend, by the way. Who are you?” he asked Patrick, his voice immediately sounding defensive.

The conversation passed by uncomfortable between them, as you dissociated from the scene before you. Your boyfriend sucked. You missed Patrick. And maybe it was wrong to break up over something like that, but in that moment, you just couldn’t care.

Finishing your third drink, it all passed by in a blur. You pulled your boyfriend away for a second, ending that relationship before you did anything else. It was impulsive, and not your best moment, but honestly it needed to happen.

And you ended up back with your friends, as your boyfriend ubered back to the hotel, talking and laughing with them, feeling at home for a moment.

The rest of the night passed by in a blur, as you fell back into Patrick’s arms as the conversation with your friends continued, him laughing alone, his arms snaked around your waist from behind as you leaned against him, the haze of the bar finally feeling relaxing, instead of too loud or too chaotic.

#patrick zweig #challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig x reader #challengers fic #challengers x reader #challengers 2024 #josh o'connor

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spiderfunkz · 12 hours ago

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I'M SORRY, SWEETIE, PLEASE, DON'T GO

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

cw. heavy angst, death, canon violence, sad themes, the use of y/n once.

author's note: my requests for hyun-ju are still open! also this doesn't really match up to the canon events during the mingle game, but i tried my best to make it make sense. reader is sort of young-mi in this position, lowkey..

everything felt so suffocating recently. aside from the bills that are continuously pilling up, you are thinking about every possible outcome that could happen.

see, you thought you would be dead meat by the first game. but growing up in tough environments helped you to be still, quiet, frozen. you still hid behind someone the entire time though. a very tall, at least from your angle, woman. she seemed very brave, and that was fact checked when she went out to help somebody. she didn't seem much older than you, that was noted in your head.

later on, you would introduce yourself to her. keeping your calm, you kept your posture straight whilst talking to her. she was looking around for a team, everybody was bickering about what this game could be. so far, from your observation, men were keeping to themselves, rejecting the women offering help. even when they are sometimes bigger than them.

"excuse me, um, would you like to team up with me?" you looked at her, she looked really pretty, you noticed how her hair was very well kept, even in situations like this. her name is cho hyun-ju, you will forever remember her name.

after a while, you made it through the game. you two managed to find three more people. a mother with her son, and a very shy girl named young-mi. you all formed a bond since then.

you got to know hyun-ju better. why she was here, why she wanted to continue the games, she opened up, and you reassured her that she was beautiful, twice.

hyun-ju brought a sense of comfort, it made you feel at ease. she was equally as curious with you. you opened up as well. by the end of it, smiles were exchanged, jokes were tossed around, she was nice.

she wanted to go to thailand. it made sense, people were more accepting there than in korea. you knew some places in thailand, well you heard from close neighbors that went there once.

"i know a spot. in thailand. it's a hidden gem, that's what they told me. they say they have the best food. the place is surrounded by cats and they say the atmosphere is great!"

she smiles, "we should go. when this is all over."

"like a date?" you joked, she seemed serious, "yes. like a date."

you knew your chances of surviving was low. but you made the pinky promise anyway.

"hyun-ju!" you yelled, the lights were burning your sight. the platform you were standing on wasn't stable, you already tripped a few times.

you tried looking around, trying to spot anyone you knew. but it felt hopeless for you. the time was ticking, the screen glowed the number 4. unlucky bastard, you whisper.

that's when your hand was grabbed, it was hyun-ju. you felt safe with her touch. she ran towards a door, the mother and son you teamed up with earlier was ahead of her, where was young-mi?

stepping into the door made you feel secure. but it wasn't right, that's when you heard young-mi's voice pleading for help.

"unnie!" the door was closing, you have to think quick.

without much hesitation, you let go of hyun-ju's hand. pushing young-mi into the room just in time. you were out.

your forehead was pressed against the door, the small opening letting you see hyun-ju just one last time. she banged loudly, it was too late however. the timer went out.

you didn't regret what you just did. you knew young-mi wanted to go home more than you, she was younger. you would feel worse if you let her be the one in your position.

"hyun-ju," your voice croaked, the shots were loud.

"y/n!" she was inches away from you. the door blocking what could've been. her eyes seemed glossy, she was on the verge of tears.

"i guess that date to thailand has to wait, yeah?" you give her a sad smile—

thud.

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elryuse · 3 days ago

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Evergarden Familia 2

Yandere Gahyeon X Male Reader

Tags : Yandere Mafia Gahyeon, Dominant Gahyeon, Dark n Gritty, A Lot Of Torture, Submission, Obsession

Words : 8,1k

Another Commission For My Friend @starconstruction On Tumblr and Ko-fi. Hope you Liked it Buddy.

The months following Y/n’s escape from Evergarden were a haze of sleepless nights, constant vigilance, and fleeting moments of hope. The city was a labyrinth of shadows, but no corner was truly safe from Gahyeon’s reach.

She was relentless.

Each time Y/n moved to a new safe house, news of her growing influence would follow him. Her reputation as the Queen of Evergarden spread like wildfire, her power cemented with fear and ruthless efficiency.

He heard whispers of her searching for him, offering exorbitant rewards to anyone with information. The underworld trembled at the mere mention of her name, but Y/n held onto his freedom with every ounce of his being.

Four months after his escape, Y/n found himself in Busan, a city far removed from the chaos of Seoul. The salty sea air and bustling markets provided a fleeting sense of anonymity.

For weeks, he had managed to stay under the radar, taking on odd jobs to sustain himself. But his luck was running out. Supplies were low, and he was nursing an infected wound from a skirmish with one of Gahyeon’s bounty hunters.

As he sat in a dimly lit motel room, bandaging his arm, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out. The walls seemed to close in around him, the weight of Gahyeon’s looming presence suffocating.

“Just a little longer,” he muttered to himself, though the words felt hollow.

That night, it happened.

The sound of boots echoed down the motel hallway, followed by hushed voices and the metallic click of a gun being cocked. Y/n’s heart pounded as he grabbed his knife, knowing he couldn’t fight his way out this time.

The door burst open, and there she stood. Gahyeon.

She was dressed in all black, her hair tied back in a sleek ponytail. Her eyes burned with a mix of fury and longing as she stepped into the room.

“Y/n,” she said, her voice deceptively soft. “Did you really think you could run from me?”

Y/n gripped his knife tightly, his gaze locked on hers. “I had to try.”

Gahyeon tilted her head, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “And look where it got you. Bleeding, hiding… pathetic.”

Her words cut deeper than any blade, but Y/n refused to back down. “I’m not going back with you, Gahyeon.”

“Oh, you don’t have a choice,” she said, her tone sharp. “You belong to me, Y/n. You always have.”

The fight that ensued was brutal. Y/n lunged at her, but she was faster, stronger, and more prepared. She disarmed him effortlessly, pinning him against the wall with a knee to his chest.

“You’re weak,” she hissed, her face inches from his. “You can’t survive without me.”

Y/n struggled, but the infection and exhaustion had taken their toll. He could barely lift his arms, let alone fight back.

Gahyeon leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. “You thought you could escape, but deep down, you knew I’d find you.”

Her words sent a shiver down his spine. She was right—he had always known this day would come.

---

The days that followed were a blur. Gahyeon took him back to Evergarden, her grip on him tighter than ever. She refused to let him out of her sight, assigning guards to watch him even in her absence.

Y/n’s protests fell on deaf ears.

“I don’t care what you want,” Gahyeon snapped during one of their many arguments. “You’re mine, Y/n. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

“You don’t own me,” Y/n shot back, his voice trembling with anger.

Gahyeon’s expression darkened, her eyes glinting with dangerous intent. “Oh, but I do. And the sooner you accept that, the better.”

Over time, the constant battles began to wear Y/n down. Gahyeon’s obsession was unrelenting, her love twisted and suffocating. Yet, there were moments—fleeting, rare moments—when he saw glimpses of vulnerability in her.

Late at night, when the world was quiet, Gahyeon would sit beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“I only wanted to protect you,” she whispered once, her voice tinged with sadness.

Y/n didn’t respond, but a part of him couldn’t deny the sincerity in her words.

Still, the weight of her possession pressed down on him, grinding his sanity to dust.

Y/n sat by the large window of the Evergarden estate, watching the rain streak down the glass like tears. His reflection stared back at him, a hollow shell of the man he once was. Gahyeon’s mansion was a gilded cage, trapping him in a life that wasn’t his own.

She had won. She always won.

The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock. It marked the hours, minutes, and seconds of his confinement. Y/n leaned back, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the scar on his forearm—a souvenir from one of Gahyeon’s hunters.

“You’re thinking of running again.”

Her voice startled him. He turned to see Gahyeon standing in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light of the hallway. She wore a loose, elegant dress, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

“I’m not,” Y/n replied, his voice flat.

Gahyeon stepped into the room, her presence overwhelming as always. “Liar.”

She closed the distance between them, her movements deliberate and predatory. Y/n stiffened as she sat beside him, her hand resting on his knee.

“Why do you keep fighting me?” she asked softly, though her tone carried an edge of danger.

“Because I’m not a possession,” Y/n said, his gaze meeting hers. “I’m a person, Gahyeon. Not something you can lock away and control.”

Gahyeon’s expression flickered, a brief crack in her armor. “You’re more than that to me.”

“Am I?” Y/n challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”

The tension between them was palpable, stretching thin like a thread about to snap. Gahyeon’s grip on his knee tightened, her nails digging into his skin.

“You don’t understand,” she said, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. “I’ve lost too much, Y/n. I won’t lose you too.”

“You’re not losing me,” Y/n replied, his tone weary. “You’re suffocating me.”

Her eyes burned with an intensity that made his chest ache. “You’re the only thing that keeps me sane,” she whispered. “The only person I can trust.”

Y/n wanted to believe her, but the weight of her obsession made it impossible.

Over the following weeks, Gahyeon’s behavior grew more erratic. She would oscillate between moments of tenderness and terrifying possessiveness.

One night, Y/n found her sitting in the garden, staring blankly at the moonlit flowers. She looked small, almost fragile—a stark contrast to the ruthless queen she presented to the world.

“Gahyeon,” he said softly, approaching her cautiously.

She didn’t look at him. “Do you hate me, Y/n?”

The question caught him off guard. He hesitated before replying, “I don’t hate you.”

“Then why do you keep trying to leave?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Because…” Y/n struggled to find the right words. “Because I can’t live like this. I can’t be what you want me to be.”

Gahyeon turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t want you to be anything but mine.”

Her vulnerability was disarming, but Y/n couldn’t ignore the darkness that lurked beneath it.

The breaking point came one stormy night.

Y/n had been confined to his room after a heated argument. Gahyeon’s paranoia had reached new heights, and she had ordered guards to ensure he didn’t try to escape again.

But Y/n wasn’t deterred. He had spent years as a pawn in the 3 Crows, learning how to manipulate his environment to his advantage.

When the opportunity arose, he slipped out of the estate under the cover of darkness, his heart pounding with the exhilaration of freedom.

He didn’t get far.

Gahyeon found him hours later, drenched from the rain and cornered in an abandoned warehouse. Her guards had been sent away, leaving them alone in the echoing silence.

“You never learn,” she said, her voice cutting through the darkness like a blade.

Y/n squared his shoulders, refusing to cower. “I can’t keep living like this, Gahyeon.”

“And I can’t live without you,” she countered, her eyes flashing with fury. “Why can’t you see that?”

Their argument escalated, the storm outside mirroring the chaos between them.

“I’d rather die than be your prisoner,” Y/n shouted, his voice cracking with emotion.

Gahyeon’s hand shot out, grabbing his collar and pulling him close. “You don’t get to choose, Y/n,” she hissed. “You’re mine, and I’ll never let you go.”

The storm outside raged on, but the tempest in Gahyeon’s eyes burned hotter. The abandoned warehouse felt like it was closing in around Y/n, her presence suffocating and inescapable.

“You’d rather die?” she repeated, her voice low and venomous. “How dare you even think that?”

Her grip on his collar tightened, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her nails dug into his skin, and he could see the storm brewing within her—a volatile mix of fury, heartbreak, and unrelenting obsession.

“You don’t understand what you mean to me,” she whispered, her tone deceptively soft. “You’re not just some pawn in my game, Y/n. You’re my king.”

He scoffed, his defiance flickering despite the fear gnawing at him. “A king in chains is no king at all.”

Her lips twisted into a cruel smile, one that sent chills down his spine. “You think you’re in chains? No, my love. This world is the chain. I’ve freed you from it.”

Before Y/n could respond, Gahyeon pushed him against a rusted pillar, pinning him there with an iron grip. The storm outside howled through the broken windows, the wind whipping her hair around her face like a dark halo.

“You don’t get to leave me,” she hissed, her voice trembling with a terrifying mix of rage and desperation. “Not now. Not ever.”

Y/n struggled against her hold, but she was stronger than he remembered. Her obsession had fueled her, turning her into something more dangerous than he could have anticipated.

“You think you’re the only one suffering?” she continued, her voice rising. “Do you know what it’s like to build an empire, to rule a kingdom, and still feel empty because the one person you love keeps trying to run away?”

Her words cut deep, but Y/n refused to back down. “Love? This isn’t love, Gahyeon. This is madness.”

Her hand shot to his throat, her grip firm but not choking. Her lips curled into a sinister smile as she leaned in, her breath hot against his ear.

“Madness?” she whispered. “Maybe. But it’s the kind of madness that will burn this world to the ground if it means keeping you by my side".

Gahyeon released him suddenly, stepping back as if to give him space. But her movements were calculated.

“You want to see how far I’ll go for you?” she asked, her voice eerily calm. “Fine. Let me show you.”

Before Y/n could react, she pulled out her phone and made a call. Her tone was cold and commanding. “Bring them in.”

The warehouse doors creaked open, and two of her men entered, dragging a battered figure behind them. Y/n’s heart sank as he recognized the man—a contact he had made in Busan, someone who had helped him hide.

The man’s face was bloodied, his body trembling as Gahyeon’s men threw him to the ground.

“Gahyeon, don’t—” Y/n began, but she silenced him with a raised hand.

“You think you can run from me?” she said, her gaze fixed on the trembling man. “You think anyone can hide you from me?”

Without hesitation, she pulled a gun from her holster and aimed it at the man’s head.

“Stop!” Y/n shouted, stepping forward.

She turned to him, her eyes blazing. “Then stop fighting me, Y/n. Stop running. Admit that you’re mine.”

Y/n’s fists clenched, his mind racing. He hated her for what she had become, but he hated himself even more for the part of him that hesitated, that feared what she might do.

“I’ll never be yours,” he said, his voice steady but his heart pounding.

Gahyeon smiled—a cold, predatory smile. “Oh, you will be. One way or another.”

The man’s scream echoed through the warehouse as Gahyeon pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot reverberated in Y/n’s ears, but it wasn’t just the violence that shook him. It was the way she turned to him afterward, her expression serene, as if she had simply swatted a fly.

“Do you see now?” she asked, her voice soft and almost tender. “No one can protect you from me. No one can love you like I do.”

Y/n stared at her, a mixture of horror and disbelief washing over him. “You’re insane.”

Gahyeon stepped closer, her hand reaching out to cup his face. Her touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the blood on her hands.

“Maybe I am,” she admitted, her smile bittersweet. “But you’ve made me this way, Y/n. You’re the reason I’m like this. And you’re the only one who can keep me sane.”

Y/n's nightmares had become his reality. Each passing day, Gahyeon tightened her grip, molding him into a weapon for her empire. His protests, his defiance-none of it mattered. She had decided that if he wouldn't love her willingly, she would make him indispensable to her reign.

The cold steel of a gun now felt like an extension of his hand. Every bullet fired, every life taken-it all added to the growing abyss in his soul.

"Do you see, Y/n?" Gahyeon murmured one night as they stood on the rooftop of Evergarden's fortress, overlooking the city she now ruled. "This is the world we're creating together. You and I-unstoppable."

Y/n said nothing, his jaw clenched as he stared at the distant city lights. Those lights were a reminder of everything he had lost.

"Your silence doesn't bother me anymore," Gahyeon continued, stepping closer. "Because I know you'll fight for me. You'll kill for me."

Her hand rested on his shoulder, her grip firm. "And soon, you'll understand that there's no life for you outside of this. Outside of me."

The missions began the next day.

It started with a rival syndicate encroaching on Evergarden territory. Gahyeon had no patience for negotiations. She wanted blood, and she wanted Y/n to be the one to spill it.

"I don't want to do this," Y/n said as they sat in the back of her armored car, her guards flanking them.

Gahyeon tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting. "You don't have a choice, my love."

She reached into her coat and pulled out a sleek, black knife, pressing it into his hand. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm telling you what you'll do. For me. For us."

Y/n stared at the blade, its weight heavier than anything he had ever held.

"Why me?" he whispered, his voice hollow.

"Because you're the only one I trust," Gahyeon said simply, her voice laced with conviction. "And because every time you fight for me, you prove that you belong to me."

The attack was swift and brutal.

Y/n moved through the rival syndicate's headquarters like a phantom, taking down guards with precision and efficiency. He hated how natural it felt, how years of being Sang-hyun's weapon had made him so adept at taking lives.

When the last body fell, he stood amidst the carnage, his hands slick with blood.

Gahyeon entered the room moments later, her heels clicking against the blood-stained floor. She surveyed the destruction with a satisfied smile, her gaze finally landing on Y/n.

"You did well," she said, her tone warm, almost affectionate.

Y/n dropped the knife, his chest heaving with the weight of what he had done. "I'm done. No more."

Gahyeon's smile faltered, but only for a moment. She stepped closer, cupping his face in her hands.

"Oh, Y/n," she murmured, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. "You don't get to decide when it's over. Only I do."

As the weeks passed, Gahyeon continued to use Y/n as her weapon, sending him on mission after mission. Each time, she would watch from the sidelines, her eyes filled with a twisted pride.

"You're perfect," she told him after one particularly bloody battle. "Everything I've ever wanted."

Y/n felt himself breaking under the weight of her words. He wanted to hate her, but her twisted affection left him conflicted.

One night, after a particularly harrowing mission, Y/n finally snapped.

"I'm not your toy!" he shouted, slamming his fist against the table in her office. "I'm not some puppet you can control!"

Gahyeon remained calm, leaning back in her chair. Her fingers steepled as she regarded him with a predatory smile.

"You're more than a puppet," she said. "You're my partner. My equal."

"Equal?" Y/n spat. "You don't treat me like one."

Her smile widened. "Because you haven't accepted your role yet. But you will. In time."

The breaking point came when Gahyeon ordered Y/n to eliminate a group of innocent civilians who had unknowingly crossed Evergarden.

"They're not a threat," Y/n argued, his voice trembling with anger.

"They're an example," Gahyeon countered coldly. "One the rest of the world needs to see."

Y/n refused, throwing the gun to the ground. "No. I won't do it."

For the first time, Gahyeon's composure cracked. Her eyes blazed with fury as she approached him, grabbing his face with both hands.

"You don't say no to me," she hissed. "Not now. Not ever."

Y/n met her gaze, his own eyes filled with defiance. "Then kill me, Gahyeon. Because I won't be your monster anymore."

The room fell silent, the tension between them palpable.

Gahyeon's grip loosened, and for a moment, Y/n thought she might actually let him go. But then her lips curved into a chilling smile.

"You'll do it," she said, her voice soft but unwavering. "Not because I'll force you, but because deep down, you know you're already mine."

Y/n's world had become an unending spiral of blood and shadows. Every mission, every death-each step brought him closer to a point of no return. And through it all, Gahyeon watched him with a possessive intensity, her control over him tightening like a noose.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/n began to feel like a ghost haunting his own life. His soul, once so heavy with defiance, now felt hollow.

"You're quieter than usual," Gahyeon remarked one evening as they dined in her lavish penthouse.

Y/n didn't respond. He stared at the untouched food on his plate, his appetite long since stolen by the weight of his actions.

She reached across the table, her hand brushing his. "You're doing good work, Y/n. Evergarden is stronger than ever because of you."

He pulled his hand away, his voice cold. "At what cost?"

Her smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. "Don't start this again."

"You've turned me into something I never wanted to be," he said, his voice rising. "I'm not your soldier, Gahyeon. I'm not your weapon."

She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "You're mine," she said, her voice firm and unyielding. "Everything you are, everything you've done-it's all for us. For Evergarden."

Y/n pushed back his chair, standing to face her. "For you, you mean. This isn't about us. It's about your obsession with control."

Her eyes darkened, and for a moment, he thought she might strike him. But instead, she took a deep breath, regaining her composure.

"Do you know what happens to people who defy me, Y/n?" she asked, her tone dangerously calm.

"I don't care anymore," he said.

Her lips curled into a sinister smile. "You will."

The next day, Gahyeon summoned Y/n to a secluded warehouse-a familiar setting, one that made his stomach churn with dread.

When he arrived, he found a group of men tied to chairs in the center of the room. Each one bore the bruises and cuts of a brutal interrogation.

"These men tried to betray me," Gahyeon said, stepping out of the shadows. "They conspired with a rival syndicate to overthrow Evergarden."

Y/n's fists clenched. "What does this have to do with me?"

She handed him a gun, her eyes locked onto his. "You're going to make an example of them."

"No," he said immediately, his voice firm.

Gahyeon's expression hardened. "This isn't a request."

"I'm done killing for you," he said, throwing the gun to the ground.

Her gaze turned icy, and she stepped closer, her presence suffocating. "If you don't do this, Y/n, I'll make sure their families pay for their betrayal. Their wives, their children- I'll burn their entire lives to ash."

His heart sank. She had him trapped, as she always did.

"You don't have to do this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Yes, I do. Because this is how I keep control. And if you won't help me, I'll make you watch as I do it myself."

The first gunshot echoed through the warehouse, and Y/n felt a part of himself shatter.

He had done it. He had pulled the trigger. Not because he wanted to, but because Gahyeon had left him no other choice.

When it was over, the room was silent, save for the ringing in his ears.

Gahyeon approached him, her hands reaching out to cup his face. Her touch was gentle, almost tender-a cruel contrast to the carnage around them.

"You see?" she murmured. "You belong to me, Y/n. Body, soul, and everything in between."

He didn't respond, his eyes hollow as he stared past her.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You're perfect, my love. And one day, you'll thank me for this."

That night, as Y/n lay awake in the darkness of his room, he felt something inside him shift.

He couldn't keep living like this. He had to find a way out, even if it killed him.

But deep down, he knew that escaping Gahyeon wouldn't be easy.

She wouldn't let him go. Not without a fight.

The air in the Evergarden penthouse was tense as Gahyeon paced back and forth, her heels clicking against the marble floor. Y/n stood in the middle of the room, his arms crossed, defiance etched into every line of his face.

"I'm not doing it," Y/n said flatly, his voice firm.

Gahyeon stopped pacing and turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. "You don't get to decide that."

"I just did."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging between them like a loaded gun.

For a moment, Gahyeon's expression softened, as if she were pleading with him to see reason. "Y/n, I don't want to fight you on this. This is for us for Evergarden."

"This isn't for us," Y/n shot back. "This is for you. For your obsession with control."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her patience wearing thin. "You don't understand what's at stake here."

"I understand perfectly," he said. "You want me to kill another rival, another threat to your empire. But I'm done being your weapon."

Gahyeon's jaw tightened, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Do you think you have a choice? After everything I've done for you, after everything we've built together, you want to walk away?"

"It's not walking away," Y/n said, his voice rising. "It's reclaiming what little humanity I have left."

Her eyes darkened, and the softness in her expression vanished, replaced by something colder. "Humanity?" she said, her tone mocking. "You think you can have a normal life after everything you've done? After everything I've done for you?"

"I'd rather die than keep living like this," Y/n said, his voice trembling with emotion.

Gahyeon took a step closer, her presence overwhelming. "You don't mean that."

"I do," he said, meeting her gaze with defiance.

Her composure cracked, and for a brief moment, Y/n saw the vulnerability beneath her hardened exterior. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a steely resolve.

"If that's how you feel," she said, her voice dangerously calm, "then you've left me no choice."

The punishment came swiftly and without mercy.

Two of her most loyal enforcers dragged Y/n into a dimly lit basement, his struggles futile against their iron grip. They chained him to a chair in the center of the room, the cold metal biting into his wrists and ankles.

Gahyeon entered moments later, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. She dismissed the enforcers with a wave of her hand, leaving her alone with Y/n.

"I didn't want to do this," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "But you've forced my hand."

Y/n glared at her, his chest heaving with anger. "You think this will make me obey you?"

"I think it will remind you who you belong to," she said, her tone devoid of emotion.

She stepped closer, pulling a knife from her coat. The blade glinted under the dim light, and Y/n felt a chill run down his spine.

"You'll heal," she said, almost as if trying to reassure herself. "But you need to learn that defiance has consequences."

Y/n's breath hitched as she pressed the blade against his cheek, the cold metal sending shivers down his spine.

"Do you know why I'm doing this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because you're a monster," Y/n spat.

Her eyes flashed with anger, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she leaned closer, her lips brushing against his ear. "No, Y/n. I'm doing this because I love you. Because I can't lose you."

She pulled the blade away and stepped back, her hand trembling slightly.

"I don't want to hurt you," she said, her voice breaking. "But if it means keeping you close, if it means keeping you safe, then I'll do whatever it takes."

The days that followed were a blur of pain and exhaustion. Gahyeon didn't allow Y/n to leave the penthouse, keeping him under constant watch. She personally tended to his wounds, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the darkness of her actions.

"You'll thank me for this one day," she said as she wrapped a bandage around his wrist.

Y/n didn't respond, his eyes hollow and distant.

Gahyeon's gaze softened, and she cupped his face in her hands. "I know you hate me right now, but that's okay. Hate is still a connection, Y/n. And as long as we're connected, I can work with that."

He turned his head away, refusing to meet her gaze.

She sighed, her thumb brushing against his cheek. "You'll see, my love. This is all for us. For the glory of Evergarden."

The basement was silent, save for the occasional drip of water echoing through the room. Y/n was strapped to the cold metal chair once again, his wrists and ankles bound so tightly the restraints dug into his skin. His shirt was torn and bloodied, his breaths shallow and labored.

Gahyeon stood before him, her silhouette illuminated by the dim, flickering light. She looked almost ethereal, an angel of death watching over her prey.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” she said softly, her voice calm yet laced with steel. “But you’ve left me no choice, Y/n. I told you, didn’t I? You belong to me.”

Y/n didn’t respond. His head hung low, sweat and blood dripping from his chin onto the floor.

“You’re strong,” she continued, circling him like a predator. “Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. That’s why I love you. But even the strongest need to be reminded of their place.”

She crouched down, lifting his chin with her fingers. His eyes, though dull and heavy with exhaustion, still held a spark of defiance.

“You’re still fighting me,” she whispered, almost admiringly. “But you can’t fight forever.”

The hours stretched into eternity. Gahyeon’s methods were meticulous, calculated to break him piece by piece. Sometimes it was physical—blades tracing shallow lines across his skin, ice-cold water poured over his head to shock his senses. Other times it was psychological—taunting him with his failures, whispering promises of freedom that would never come.

“Why do you resist me, Y/n?” she asked during one of the sessions, her tone almost tender. “Don’t you see? There’s no life for you outside of this. Outside of me.”

Y/n gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse. “I’d rather die than be yours.”

Her eyes flashed with anger, and for a moment, she looked as if she might strike him. But instead, she stepped back, composing herself.

“Die?” she echoed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “You think I’d let you escape me that easily? No, Y/n. You don’t get to leave me. Not ever.”

Eventually, his body began to betray him. The lack of sleep, the relentless pain—it all blurred together, breaking down his defenses. His mind grew foggy, his thoughts tangled and incoherent.

Gahyeon noticed the change immediately.

“You’re close now,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “So close to surrendering.”

Y/n’s lips parted as if to respond, but no words came out.

She leaned in, her breath warm against his skin. “It’s okay, my love. Let go. Stop fighting.”

The moment came unexpectedly. One final, whispered taunt from Gahyeon was all it took to shatter the last remnants of his resolve. His shoulders slumped, his head falling forward as a broken sob escaped his lips.

“There it is,” Gahyeon said softly, her voice filled with satisfaction. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”

She cupped his face in her hands, tilting his head up to meet her gaze. His eyes, once filled with fire, now stared back at her with emptiness.

“You’re mine now,” she said, her tone dripping with possessiveness.

She pressed her lips to his, the kiss soft but filled with a fierce intensity. When she pulled back, she began to shower him with kisses, her lips brushing against his forehead, his cheeks, his jawline.

“You don’t need to fight anymore,” she whispered between kisses. “You don’t need to think. Just let me take care of you.”

Y/n didn’t resist. He couldn’t.

She pulled him into her arms, cradling him like a prized possession. “You’ll see, my love. This is how it’s meant to be. You and me, together forever.”

Gahyeon’s breath was hot against his ear as she leaned in, her voice a low, sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. “You’ve been running from me for too long,” she said, her tone laced with amusement and something darker—something possessive. Her fingers trailed down his arm, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He tried to pull away, but her grip tightened like iron, her nails digging into his skin just enough to remind him who was in control.

“Let go of me,” he growled, his voice strained, though there was a tremor beneath the anger. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely. Her lips curled into a smirk, those dark eyes gleaming with a hunger that made his stomach twist.

“Oh, darling,” she cooed, tilting her head as if he’d said something adorable. “I told you already. You don’t get to decide when this ends.” Her other hand cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip. He flinched at the touch, but she only smiled wider. “You’re mine now. Whether you like it or not.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could utter a word, her lips crashed against his. The kiss was anything but gentle—it was hungry, demanding, and utterly consuming. She claimed him with a ferocity that left no room for resistance, her tongue slipping into his mouth as though she wanted to devour him whole. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, but the fight slowly drained out of him. Against his will, his body began to respond, heat pooling low in his gut as she pressed herself against him.

When she finally pulled back, he was breathless, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Her gaze locked onto his, those dark eyes filled with a predatory gleam. “There it is,” Gahyeon said softly, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”

She cupped his face in her hands, tilting his head up to meet her gaze. His eyes, once filled with defiance, now stared back at her with an emptiness that only fueled her obsession. “You’re mine now,” she declared, her tone thick with possessiveness. Her thumb brushed over his lower lip again, her touch lingering as though savoring the moment.

Her lips began to wander, peppering soft kisses across his forehead, his cheeks, his jawline. Each kiss was tender, almost reverent, yet there was an undeniable intensity behind them. “You don’t need to fight anymore,” she whispered between kisses, her voice honey-sweet and hypnotic. “You don’t need to think. Just let me take care of you.”

He didn’t resist. He couldn’t. Something about her touch, her voice, had shattered the last remnants of his resolve. His body felt heavy, his mind clouded, as though she had cast a spell over him. She pulled him into her arms, cradling him like a prized possession, her fingers gently carding through his hair. “You’ll see, my love,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. “This is how it’s meant to be. You and me, together forever.”

Her hands slid down his chest, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing every inch of him. When they reached the hem of his shirt, she tugged it upward, her movements unhurried but purposeful. He didn’t stop her, his mind still foggy, his body pliant under her touch. The fabric slipped off his shoulders, puddling at his feet, and she hummed appreciatively, her gaze raking over his exposed skin.

“Perfect,” she breathed, trailing her fingers down his torso. Her touch was electric, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through him despite the conflict raging in his mind. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to the hollow of his throat, then another just above his collarbone. Each kiss burned like a brand, marking him as hers.

His breath hitched as her lips moved lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her hands found his waistband, and she paused, looking up at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked, though they both knew the answer. Her fingers toyed with the button of his jeans, her smile widening when he remained silent.

“That’s what I thought,” she purred, undoing the button and sliding the zipper down with agonizing slowness. His jeans pooled at his feet, leaving him completely vulnerable before her. She stepped back, her gaze roaming over him with blatant admiration. “So beautiful,” she murmured, her voice almost reverent. “And all mine.”

She closed the distance between them again, her hands finding their way to his hips as she guided him backward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, she pushed him down, following him as he fell onto the mattress. Her knee nudged his legs apart, and she settled between them, her weight pressing him into the sheets.

Her hands roamed over his body, her touch equal parts gentle and commanding. She leaned down, capturing his lips in another searing kiss, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. He moaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips, and she grinned against him, clearly pleased with his response.

“That’s it,” she whispered, breaking the kiss to trail her lips down his neck. “Just let go. Let me take care of you.” Her hands continued their exploration, mapping out every curve and plane of his body as if committing him to memory. When her fingers brushed against his growing arousal, he gasped, his hips jerking instinctively.

She chuckled, the sound low and husky, and wrapped her hand around him, stroking him slowly. “See?” she murmured, her breath warm against his ear. “You don’t have to fight it. You belong to me now.”

Her movements became more deliberate, her grip tightening ever so slightly, and he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. She took advantage of his exposed throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin, her teeth grazing lightly just to hear him whimper.

“Gahyeon…” he managed to choke out, his voice ragged. It wasn’t a plea for her to stop—it was something far more dangerous. He hated how much he wanted this, how much he craved her touch despite everything.

“Shh,” she soothed, kissing him deeply again, her tongue sliding against his in a way that left him dizzy. “Don’t fight it, my love. Just feel.”

Gahyeon’s lips curled into a wicked smile as she felt him shudder beneath her touch. She could see it in his eyes—the surrender, the way his defenses crumbled like sand slipping through his fingers. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his breath hitching as she continued to stroke him, slow and teasing, drawing out every ounce of his resistance until there was nothing left but her.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Just let go. You don’t need to hold back anymore.” Her fingers tightened around him, just enough to make him gasp, and she leaned down to capture his lips again, her kiss fierce and demanding. He moaned into her mouth, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to touch her but didn’t dare.

She pulled back slightly, her breath mingling with his as she whispered, “You can’t even move without me, can you? That’s how much you need me.” Her tongue flicked against his bottom lip, and she bit down gently, eliciting another groan from him. “Tell me,” she coaxed, her voice soft but insistent. “Tell me who you belong to.”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he fought against the words, but Gahyeon wasn’t patient. Her hand moved faster, her thumb brushing over the sensitive tip of him, and his resolve shattered. “Y-you,” he stammered, his voice hoarse. “I belong to you.”

Her smile widened, and she released him abruptly, leaving him trembling and desperate. “Good boy,” she purred, her hands sliding up his chest as she shifted above him. She positioned herself so that her thighs bracketed his hips, her warmth hovering just above him. “Now… let me show you what it means to be mine.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, she lowered herself onto him, their bodies joining in one fluid motion. His breath hitched, his head falling back against the pillows as she took him inch by inch, her own breath coming in shallow gasps. She reveled in the sensation, in the way he filled her completely, and when she finally settled against him, she let out a soft sigh of contentment.

“Do you feel it?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “How perfectly we fit together? Like this was always meant to be.” She rocked her hips gently, testing the waters, and a shiver ran through her as pleasure sparked along her nerves. “You were made for me, my love. Only me.”

He clenched his teeth, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to escape him, but Gahyeon wouldn’t allow it. She began to move, her pace steady and unhurried at first, each roll of her hips designed to draw out every ounce of pleasure. His hands gripped the sheets beneath him, his knuckles white as he struggled to maintain some semblance of control, but it was no use. She was in complete command, her body moving with a rhythm that left him helpless.

“Look at me,” she commanded, her tone sharp but laced with a strange tenderness. Reluctantly, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, and she smiled down at him, her eyes burning with an intensity that sent a jolt of electricity through him. “I want you to watch as I take what’s mine.”

Her movements grew more forceful, her hips slamming against his with increasing urgency. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, punctuated by his choked gasps and her soft moans. She was relentless, driving them both closer and closer to the edge, her nails digging into his shoulders as she held on tightly.

“Say it again,” she demanded, her voice breaking slightly as pleasure coiled tight within her. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” he gasped, his voice strained. “I belong to you, Gahyeon.”

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, a wave of pure satisfaction washing over her. “Again,” she breathed, her hips never faltering in their rhythm.

“I belong to you,” he repeated, louder this time, his body arching beneath her as the pressure inside him built to unbearable levels. “Only you.”

She could feel it—the tension in his muscles, the way his breathing turned ragged—and she knew he was close. But she wasn’t ready to let him go yet. With a sharp twist of her hips, she slowed her pace, forcing him to endure the agonizing buildup for just a little longer.

“Not yet,” she cooed, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I want to savor this.” She resumed her movements, slow and torturous, her fingers trailing down his chest as she watched him unravel beneath her. “You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire. “Completely at my mercy.”

He groaned, his hands grabbing at her waist as if to urge her on, but she shook her head. “No, my love. This is my pace. My rules.” She pressed her lips to his in a searing kiss, her tongue delving into his mouth as she ground down against him, the friction sending sparks shooting through both of them.

When she finally allowed herself to pick up speed again, it was with a wild abandon that left him reeling. Her hair fell in messy waves around her face as she rode him with everything she had, her cries mixing with his as they spiraled toward release together. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, she pushed them both over the edge, their voices rising in unison as pleasure consumed them entirely.

Gahyeon collapsed against his chest, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as she clung to him. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her ear, a frantic rhythm that matched her own, and she smiled against his skin. “Mine,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Forever mine.”

Gahyeon lay there for a moment, savoring the warmth of his body beneath her, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. She traced lazy circles on his skin, her fingers lingering over the scars and imperfections that made him human, made him real. Her human. Her lips curved into a small, possessive smile as she pressed a kiss to his collarbone, her tongue darting out to taste the salt of his skin.

“You’re so perfect,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry. “Every part of you… every breath, every heartbeat. All mine.”

Y/n stirred beneath her, his fingers twitching slightly as if trying to regain control of his body. But Gahyeon was quick to react, her hand sliding down to grip his wrist firmly, pinning it to the bed. “No, no,” she chided softly, her lips brushing against his ear. “You don’t get to move unless I say so. Remember? You belong to me.”

His eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused, but they locked onto hers almost instinctively. There was something in that gaze—something raw and vulnerable—that made her heart ache with a twisted kind of love. She cupped his face again, her thumb stroking his cheekbone as she leaned in closer, their breaths mingling.

“Do you understand?” she whispered, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “You don’t need to think. You don’t need to fight. Just let me take care of you. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

He didn’t respond, not with words, but his body relaxed under her touch, his resistance fading like smoke in the wind. Gahyeon smiled, triumphant and tender all at once, and shifted her weight so she could straddle him properly. Her hands roamed his chest, her nails scratching lightly over his skin, leaving faint red lines in their wake. She reveled in the way he shivered beneath her, the way his breathing hitched when she found a particularly sensitive spot.

“You’re so responsive,” she purred, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his neck. She nipped at the skin there, just hard enough to leave a mark, a reminder of who he belonged to. When she pulled back, she admired her handiwork, her lips curving into a satisfied smirk.

But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. She wanted more—more of him, more of this feeling, this connection. She wanted to lose herself in him completely, to drown in the heat of his body and the sound of his voice. So she did what came naturally: she took.

Her hands slid lower, tracing the line of his hips before gripping him firmly. He gasped, his back arching off the bed as she began to stroke him, her movements slow and deliberate. She watched his face closely, drinking in every twitch and tremor, every flicker of pleasure that crossed his features.

“That’s it,” she coaxed, her voice soft yet commanding. “Let go. Let me make you feel good.”

He groaned, his head tipping back against the pillows as her hand moved faster, her grip tightening just enough to drive him wild. She could feel him hardening in her grasp, could feel the tension coiling in his body, and it only fueled her own desire. Her thighs clenched around him, her core throbbing with need, but she forced herself to focus on him. This was about control. About possession. About him.

When she sensed he was close—too close—she suddenly stopped, pulling her hand away and earning a desperate whimper from him. His hips bucked, seeking friction, seeking release, but she simply shook her head, her smile widening as she leaned down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Not yet,” she teased, her breath warm against his skin. “I want to see how much you can take.”

She shifted again, positioning herself above him, and slowly lowered herself down, taking him inch by agonizing inch. She bit her lip, stifling a moan as she felt him fill her, stretching her in the most delicious way. Once she was fully seated, she paused, giving them both a moment to adjust, to savor the connection. Then, with a slow roll of her hips, she began to move.

Every thrust was deliberate, every movement calculated to draw out the pleasure for both of them. She kept her pace steady, unhurried, her hands braced on his chest as she rode him. Her hair fell in messy waves around her face, sticking to her skin with sweat, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was the way he looked beneath her, the way his eyes glazed over with bliss, the way his hands clutched at the sheets as if he were holding on for dear life.

“Look at me,” she commanded, her voice firm despite the breathlessness creeping into her tone. Reluctantly, his eyes met hers, and she smiled, her movements becoming more intense, more demanding. “Good boy. That’s it. Just like that. Don’t look away.”

He obeyed, his gaze locked onto hers as she pleasured him, as she claimed him completely. She could feel her own climax building, coiling tightly in her stomach, but she held on, determined to push him over the edge first. Her rhythm faltered, her hips stuttering as her control slipped, but she tightened her grip on his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she pressed on.

“Come for me,” she urged, her voice breaking on the words. “Please. I want to feel you. I want to know you’re mine in every way.”

His breath caught, his body tensing beneath her, and then he was coming undone, his release spilling into her with a ragged groan. The sight of him—lost in ecstasy, utterly at her mercy—was enough to send her spiraling over the edge as well. She cried out, her walls clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.

For a moment, neither of them moved, both too lost in the aftershocks to do anything more than breathe. Then, slowly, Gahyeon collapsed against his chest, her cheek resting over his heart as she listened to its rapid beat. Her fingers trailed idly over his skin, tracing patterns only she could understand.

“Mine,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Always mine.”

- To Be Continued -

90 notes · View notes

thewizardingpost · 24 hours ago

Text

soulmates...?

poly!marauders x fem!reader

summary ⌇ findng out that you “belong with” the infamous marauders, you run and hide. But in good ole fashioned fate, they find you like they’re supposed to. warnings ⌇2.9k, soulmate au, strangers to friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending, hinted ravenclaw!reader (but not directly said), divorce hinted at (R’s dad cheated), minor injuries (r receiving, mention of some blood), this is my fic (I just got a new account)

At the age of ten you learned about soulmates when three symbols appeared on the inside of your writer. It happened on your birthday, the sight of it scared you and you tried to rub it off until your mom intervened. She had explained to you then–that the three symbols on your arm would fill in with color whenever you were near them. Then you had gagged and waved your mother off, but after a few years you had begun to yearn for it.

After getting admitted to Hogwarts, your friend from back home found hers after just sitting at the dining table after being sorted. She was ecstatic explaining it to you, and that event is what started your desire to know the three people you were ‘destined’ to be with.

Classes had started, and still no luck. A year had gone by, and still nothing. Over the summer your mother had consoled you, telling you it'll take time and that it's usually rare to find out so long. With your hands in hers, sitting on the couch, you asked her a question that would change your perspective on the entire thing. You asked if dad was her soulmate, and she responded with a heartbreaking no. Her ‘soulmate’ had cheated on her.

It changed you. To know that someone was supposed to be your forever could do such a thing, leave your mom broken and alone like that was terrifying, angering. You stopped checking your wrist often. You stopped checking other’s wrists to see if it matched yours. You stopped caring.

Years passed and you were now a Fifth Year at Hogwarts. And about to be late for your first potions class of the semester. There was barely any time left so when you arrived you threw yourself at the first open seat you could find. The air was run out of you, making you breathe heavily. You already caused a scene running in, you had nothing else to lose by breathing loudly.

“Sleep in?”

Your eyes flitted to the person beside you, “Possibly.”

“Oh I think the answer is ‘definitely’,” he grins, “I should know, I do it often.”

Seeing how you were still looking down at the table, moving items around–you noticed in your peripheral how he angled his body so he could see your face.

“Gonna tell me your name or shall I give you one?”

“Why?”

“You’ve been to Hogwarts, haven’t you? Seeing as we’re sitting together, we’re going to be lab partners.”

And that’s how you first met Sirius–sitting in the back of your potions class. At first it had felt suffocating, but now you couldn’t deny the way he made you laugh. Over time you found yourself enjoying his presence, even accepting his invites to study outside of class.

He told you to meet him at the library, but he never said where. You scanned the tables first before you wandered down the book isles, scanning each row until you found him on some random aisle in the charms section.

“Sirius,” you whispered, tone harsh as to grab his attention, “I’ve been looking for you, I–”

“Shh, dollface. Can’t you see I'm reading?”

You brush off the nickname, “you never read, Sirius.”

“Excuse you, I absolutely do. Only if it involves something I’m interested in.”

You move to see the title of the book, “jinxes?”

“Only trying to spice life up a bit.”

You sighed, “we really must finish this assignment, I’d hate to get a bad grade already so early on in the school year.”

When he didn’t budge, you sighed dramatically to pull him out of whatever trance the book seemed to have him in. He trailed behind you, mumbling something about having to tell someone about what he just read later. A few minutes later you found some seating in one of the aisles, the row having only three seats. With the one on the end taken, it forced the two of you to be pushed closer together on the inside.

“I didn’t bring my notebook because my friend’s using it and I assume you don’t have yours,” you mumbled while you flipped through the pages of some old book, “so we’ll have to use this to understand the potion for the assignment. It’s pretty detailed so maybe we can both read it and discuss what we took away after. We have to have this information ready–Sirius, I feel like you’re not listening.”

“Good observation, gorgeous–I’m not. This is a complete snore-fest.”

“This ‘snore-fest’ is 25% of your grade,” you whispered with a smile, moving the book closer to him, “so read. Please. If not for yourself, please do it for me.”

He reluctantly did so, moving his eyes off of you and onto the length paragraphs inside the book. Every now and then he would make a reluctant sound. Sometimes his leg would jitter too much, and hit the leg to your chair. You paid it no mind, and for some reason you enjoyed it–a smile on your face as you read another copy of the book.

“Sirius, why’re you in the library? And reading as well, are you alright?”

You watched Sirius angle himself out of the corner of your eye towards what seemed to be another Fifth Year–just with shorter, brown hair.

“Oh fuck off, it’s for an assignment.”

“I’ve never seen you read for an assignment.”

“I’ve already been attacked by this lass, I don’t need anymore from you.”

“And who is this lass?”

And that’s when you meet James. It was a quick hello, but for some reason after that moment he would pop up everywhere. In the hallway, out in Hogsmeade, across the way while sitting at the dining tables in the great hall. It’s only been short smiles and waves until you bumped into him

outside the Quidditch arena. He called out your name, wondering to you in his get-up.

“James,” you breathed, “you play quidditch?”

“Yeah, just finished a game now. We won,” he smiled wide, leaning on his broom, “I take it you don’t care much for sports?”

“Sorry, no–but that’s wonderful. And what position do you play?”

“Seeker.”

You hummed, “well maybe I’ll come watch you sometime.”

If it was possible, it looked like his smile grew. He reached back to pull someone from the crowd, “this is Remus. He comes to my games often. If you’d like someone to sit with so you’re not alone, he’s here.”

You smile at him, “alright, thank you.”

And that’s how you meet Remus, unknowingly meeting all three of your soulmates within the span of a week. For whatever reason you never checked your wrist. You left your sleeve to cover the area, keeping the markings hidden from your sight. Unbeknownst to you, throughout the next few weeks you would be unaware of how each marking would fill in with color. With Sirius, there was a small dog head that filled with black whenever you were near him. James had a stag that filled with brown, and Remus had a wolf that filled with gray. All three imprints were small, huddled in close together on the underside of your wrist–just barely reaching over an inch in size. Through all the time you spent–going to the Three Broomsticks, attending their Quidditch games, and even sometimes encouraging a jinx on some rotten teacher. You would consider yourself friends–but the tinted markings on your wrist suggested otherwise.

“Darling,” James called to you, “are you sure this is where you went?”

“Yes,” you answered, stepping over an enlarged root, “I’m sure.”

“Just say you don’t trust her,” Sirius quips.

“I do, I just feel like we’ve passed by that stump over there before.”

You were leading the three of them into the forbidden forest after stating that just earlier on your walk to Hogsmeade you saw the mushrooms they were looking for in their potions recipe. They practically begged you, mainly Sirius, to be able to find such an ingredient after being banned from the ingredient cabinet in the classroom downstairs. You were sure the mushrooms were just on this corner, sitting just outside of the forest–but somehow you found yourself wandering through the shrubbery with the boys in tow. Everyone was confused.

“Dove,” Remus started, moving closer to talk privately to you, “if you’re feeling a little fuzzy on where it's located, it’s okay to turn back around and re-evaluate. We are getting quite deep into the forest now.”

You stop, looking directly at him, “I swear it was here. The area is all the same basically. I’m sorry, I didn’t know I’d be leading everyone into nowhere.”

“No one’s upset. I had only brought it up because it’s getting dark outside. Might be best to head back and look tomorrow, we’re in no rush.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I’ll make sure you all are able to complete that prank, promise. It just won’t be tonight.”

“I agree with heading back, I’ve heard that students get lost in the woods past dark,” Sirius said, arms resting on his hips.

James looks at him with a weird expression, “where’d you hear that?”

“Why I overheard some professors discussing it. Some couple came out here to make out and didn’t return.”

“I say we hurry back then so we don’t face their wrath,” James whispered, already taking the first step forward.

The forest had an earthy smell that got stronger when the moon started to arise as the forest began to cool. It was quite cold, the wind rushing through the swaying trees causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. James and Sirius were ahead this time, deep in discussion while you and Remus talked in the back.

Two minutes into the walk–that was just starting to feel peaceful–a galloping sound was heard somewhere in the woods. You had enough time to look back when you felt the ground under you rumble, but none when a centaur came barreling through. One then another, then another appeared. They pushed through the area, not caring or not seeing the four of you standing there.

Sirius moves from where he was leaning on a tree for protection, almost cheering, “that was fantastic.”

You wince from your place on the ground, trying to pick yourself up from where you had been knocked over. Behind you heard someone curse and another coming to help lift you up, “are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just a few scratches is all,” you said, brushing the leaves and dirt off of your clothes, “is anyone hurt?”

You look around while James shushes you, “we’re fine, sweetheart. Just worried about you is all, looked like you fell pretty hard.”

“Like I said I’m fine, especially after the fact I just saw a centaur.”

Your statement brought up a conversation, one that lasted until you all were back inside Hogwarts. Throughout the walk you were gripping your wrist, more specifically your shirt. During your fall, your wrist had snagged on something–tearing your shirt and the skin underneath. When you went to stand, you caught a glimpse of the cut–and the pigmented marks on your wrist.

BORDER

You started to avoid them after that night. First it was pretty subtle, you had done a good job of convincing them and yourself that you weren’t removing yourself. You smiled their way, talked to them, but you declined offers to hangout.

Just now they had invited you to join them on a walk over to Hogsmede because Remus wanted to get a new book–and you turned them down, saying you had elsewhere to be.

“I don’t remember her being this busy,” Remus stated.

“There’s no way she’s ignoring us,” Sirius conveyed, looking at the two of them nervously.

That remark spiraled them. When you started to pull away more, they were sure their suspicions were true. You rushed past them, even said you were busy when on the map it showed that you were in your dorm room.

You were ignoring the life-changing news that you found out last week, which translated into ignoring them and trying to keep busy to avoid accepting the truth–to avoid the confrontation of spilling the truth. That you were their soulmate.

It broke you to find out because you didn’t want your time with them to end. Didn’t want the news of a soulmate to tear you four apart like it did with your mom and dad. To willingly remove yourself from three people who changed your life from the better was heart-wrenching. In some sick way, your mind tried to convince you it was better this way. They’d leave you like how your dad left your mom. Four people together? It’ll never work. Plus they seemed happier just the three of them.

Today was Friday, a day you usually spent with them in Hogsmeade–but today you walked those streets by yourself. You had started to read a book at the library before deciding halfway through that you needed to buy it, the reason why you were in Hogsmeade. And just outside when you stepped back into the cold air, you ran chest-to-chest with Remus.

“Gonna run away like you always do,” Sirius remarked, face cold, indifferent. He didn’t seem to care much when it made your face drop further than it already had, “it’s alright, you can leave–we understand. We know how highly you think of yourself now.”

“I don’t think that at all–” you start before stopping, looking at the others walking by on the street, “can we talk. Please.”

“So now you want to talk? That’s fucking rich. After all the times you’ve run away when we tried to talk to you, we have every right to leave you right here.”

“You’re right, I don't,” you said, pushing down on the sadness that was already beginning to crawl up your throat. You tuned, but didn’t get far when a hand grabbed your wrist.

“We’d love to talk to you,” Remus professes, “just after we move somewhere quieter.”

He guided you, moving towards a more secluded area by the river that ran through the small city. You were far enough from the crowds, but you all could hear the faint sounds of the street performer in the back.

“So,” Sirius probes, “why have you been acting like we don’t exist?”

“It’s not you, it’s me. Only recently my mom disclosed some information about my dad and why he left. It ruined my perspective on soulmates, made me believe they were all a hoax because why would you be destined with someone who’d do that to you? So I got scared when I found out I was yours. I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I thought surely it wouldn't work between us. Four people? How uncommon is that? Instead of giving it a chance or even communicating this to you–I ran away, and I shouldn't have. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“To be honest I thought we all knew we were soulmates. I check mine often. When the third little design on my wrist glowed whenever you were around, I knew it was you and I told the others,” Remus added, “But we all should’ve communicated that. That’s on all of us.”

Seeing the tears turn your eyes shiny Sirius sighs, moving forward to pull you into a hug, “why’re you crying, dollface? Sad that you got three attractive men as your forever partners.”

Feeling his arms around you, the scent of him invading your senses makes the tears start to flow, “I just don’t want you to leave me.”

“We’re not leaving, not ever,” James proposed as he and Remus moved close to wrap their arms around the two of you.

BORDER

You laughed at the feeling of James’ lips tickling your neck.

“Missed you a lot, sweetheart,” he mumbled into the skin, pulling himself closer, “one summer’s too long without you.”

The train’s cushions were comfortable, but they were barely enough to hold you and James–so when Sirius moved onto the seat, you were pushed up against the wall. He had expressed his excitement walking into the cabin, tossing his suitcase onto the other seat before wrapping himself around James’ back.

“Fucking hell I’ve missed you.”

He placed a kiss onto yours and Jame’s cheek before moving onto the other cushion, giving space for when Remus arrived. There was joy and excitement held in each other’s hearts, knowing you all got to see each other again after months of waiting. It was torture, and the letters did nothing. Remus was last, moving into the cart with a relaxed smile. Sirius had held out his hand, pulling him onto the seat so they could greet one another.

“Mm, missed you loads,” Remus whispered, smiling against Sirius and looking over when he heard you laugh.

You were continuing to try and move James away, trying to stop his attack on your neck. You were trying to spew words between your gasps and laughter, trying to move him off but the sounds of you laughing were too contagious.

“James, give the girl a rest. She looks like she’s going to implode.”

“Fine fine,” he said, moving away, “oh hey Remus.” He says noticing the way he had opened the sliding door, eyeing everyone with a warmth in his expression.

“Hi Prongs.”

You greeted him after, feeling yourself grow warm when you feel him press a kiss to your cheek. The both of you leaned back into the seat after, James wrapping an arm around you, “ready for another year at Hogwarts?”

“Absolutely.”

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joongieology · 10 hours ago

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2U | Jeong Yunho

Pairing: Jeong Yunho X Reader

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: University AU(?), cussing, mention of violence, possessive!Yunho, obsessive tendencies (please let me know if I missed something!)

Sypnosis: You're sure that your best friend has always been kind and friendly with everyone, so when you found out otherwise, you did not want to believe it, or maybe you're in denial.

Song Recommendation: 2U by Justin Bieber

Note: I've been working on this for a while. The idea behind this story is so good but I'm not sure if I delivered it properly >_< Anyways, happy reading!!

You've known Yunho since, like, forever. You can't even remember how you first met him, just that you've known him since you were in grade school. Wherever you are, he'd be there too. You two were inseparable. So when you got accepted to the university you've always dreamt of attending, and he didn't, he was beyond devastated.

You were sitting side by side on the couch of your apartment when you checked the results. You squealed in happiness seeing that you got accepted. You immediately looked over Yunho with a big smile, but it slowly disappeared when you saw his expression. He was just sitting there silently, disappointment evident in his eyes, with a hint of...anger? But his expression changed right away when he heard your voice.

"Yuyu?" You called out to him slowly, gently tapping him on the shoulder. He always loves it when you call him by the nickname you made for him; it sounds almost angelic when it comes from your lips. It's as if he is an angel himself, or so you thought. He looked over to you and gave you a tight smile.

"I didn't get in. I got waitlisted." He almost couldn't get the words out; it felt like something was blocking his throat. Just thinking about you being away from him and being surrounded by other people, especially men, made him want to pull his hair out.

You hugged him from the side, slowly caressing his arm, trying to comfort him.

"That's alright; we can still meet from time to time. Every day, or maybe five times a week, or on the weekends, if we're not too busy..." You tried to sound convincing, but even you were sad with the thought of being away from Yunho. You were always together that you forgot the feeling of being alone, so the idea of not having him by your side in a new school, a new environment, tormented you.

The university was far from where you currently live, so it would be quite hard to see each other much, considering you'll also have to stay at the dorm once college starts. Unless he finds another school in the same city the university is at.

You pulled away from the hug, thinking about other ways to comfort him.

"Would you like to stay over...?"

Yunho staying over is nothing new. He always sleeps over when it gets too late while you're having a movie marathon, completely forgetting about the time. He almost always sleeps on the couch, except that one time.

You were at the kitchen, getting some water because you were parched from bingeing your current favourite TV show, when someone knocked at the door. You looked at the clock; it's currently two in the morning. Who could be here at this hour? You peeked through the peephole to find no one. Okay, now, what the fu— Your line of thoughts was interrupted when you heard another pair of knocks. "Y/N." Someone from the other side of the door whispered, so low you almost didn't hear it. Yunho. You opened the door to find a nearly zombie-like looking Yunho. He was crouching down, back towards the door. He looked up at you from his position and grinned. "Hi." He said with a smile, standing, then hugging you, practically putting all his weight on you. He reeks of alcohol. "Yuyu, can you stand properly? You're so big, and you're putting all your weight on me!" You whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake your neighbours. He giggled like a kid while you're still struggling trying to hold him up. He attempted to stand properly and started walking to your bedroom, but he ended up walking in zigzag. When he finally got to your room, he removed his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving only his boxers on, then lay down on your bed. Even when drunk, he still remembered how you dislike getting on the bed with outside clothes on. You felt your cheeks flush. You shut your eyes and turned around. Inhale, exhale. This would've been nothing to you if your friendship was purely platonic, which it was until it wasn't. You honestly don't know when, but one day, you just started to look at Yunho...differently. You're suddenly aware of every little thing he did for you that you weren't aware of when you only saw him as your best friend. Like remembering the things you like, you don't like, and doing things for you—for your convenience. But of course, you wouldn't dare confess your feelings to him, fearing that it might ruin your lifelong friendship. You faced the bed, eyes still shut but peeking a little, and you walked towards Yunho and covered him with your blanket. You stared at him peacefully sleeping on your bed, in your apartment, with nothing but a pair of boxer shorts on. He looked like a prince. You went over to the other side of the bed, lifting the blanket to get under it, when your eyes caught something purple on the side of his waist. It was a bruise. What did he do? Where was he? Why does he have a bruise like this? You took note of asking him tomorrow about this and also putting a cold compress on it, then you went to bed.

After that night, you asked him about the bruise, but he just shrugged it off and told you that he just bumped into something and not to worry too much about it. You did not press further because he looked like he didn't want to talk about it at all.

"Would that be alright...?" He answered you with a question.

"Yeah, I mean, you often sleep over anyway; it's no big deal."

He showed you a smile and kissed you on the forehead, like he always does.

-~-

It was officially the first day of college, and you stood in front of the gate, mentally preparing yourself for the new environment you'll be facing. No Yunho, no nothing, just you and the infinity necklace he had given you before you moved over to the dorm—and your things of course.

While walking, you looked around, scanning the buildings, trying to look for the building name written at the schedule given to you, which was saved to your phone.

You bumped into someone looking as confused as you.

"Are you a freshman, too?" You build up the courage and start the conversation. If you want to make friends, better make one now.

"Yeah," she answered, looking awkward.

You glanced at her phone and saw the exact same schedule as yours.

"Oh! We're classmates!" Excitement was evident in your tone. At least you'll have a friend among your classmates, or so you hope.

You looked for your building together, almost getting a headache from going around the campus. When you finally found the building, you immediately went to your room, and class started.

Lunch came, and you went to the cafeteria with your newfound friend. You were peacefully munching on your lunch—thinking about what Yunho would be doing right now—when someone placed their lunch beside yours. You smelt his perfume and instantly knew.

"Hi." He was smiling yet again.

"You—why—what are you doing here??" You don't know what to ask first. You were just genuinely happy he was here. Even when other students that were sitting near your table started to scatter away while murmuring something among themselves, you still didn't care.

You hugged Yunho around his neck.

"I go here now."

"What—how??"

"Long story. Don't worry about it. What's important is I'm here now, right?" He uncapped a drink—your favourite drink—and placed it in your hands.

You nodded, sipping on the drink. You glanced over at your friend sitting beside you, her face pale with shock written all over it, while staring at Yunho.

"What's wrong?" You asked, concerned.

"N-nothing." She gave you a tight smile and went back to eating.

Odd. You gazed at Yunho, and he just gave you a shrug with that infamous smile of his, urging you to finish eating.

The next few days went by. You were thrilled to have Yunho at the same school. You always hung out together, sometimes bringing your friend along with you. Yunho didn't seem to mind, saying, 'As long as you're happy.'.

College was actually tolerable, better than you imagined. Your friend invited you to go to a party on Friday night, insisting you bring Yunho too.

You talked about this with Yunho. At first he was reluctant, claiming your friend is not trustworthy and you shouldn't be hanging out with her too much, but eventually, he agreed.

The place of the party was not too far away from the university. It was a big house with a pool in the backyard and a beautiful garden at the front. It was packed, some people dancing, some just hanging out drinking beer or heavy liquor, some kissing, and some smoking...weed?

Is this a fucking frat party?!

Well, might as well have fun; besides, Yunho is here with you anyway, so nothing will happen... right?

Your friend dragged you and Yunho to what you assumed was the kitchen and handed each of you a beer she got from the cooler.

You drink occasionally, most of the time with Yunho, but you've never really been a heavy drinker. Him, on the other hand, has a high tolerance; that's why you were surprised when he came to you drunk that night.

You were getting pretty dizzy when Yunho snatched the can of beer you were holding. It was your third, halfway done. You leaned onto his chest, and a whiff of his perfume reached your senses, causing you to giggle.

"Gosh, you smell sooo good~~." You were still giggling, looking up at him, eyes half-lidded. He took a glance at your plump lips and gulped.

Oh, you have no idea what you do to him.

He wished he could kiss you right there and then, make you feel good like you've never felt before, claim you as his, and submit himself to you, but he held back, not wanting to scare you away, not knowing you felt the same way he did.

You stared at each other, silently relaying your love for one another, hoping the other would just snap and let go.

One...

Two...

Three...

And you pulled away, excusing yourself to the bathroom. You locked the door and stared at your reflection.

Y/N, just tell him already!!

You wanted to pull your hair out of frustration, but you tried to calm down.

What if he doesn't feel the same way? What if he likes someone else and just sees me as his friend? Never mind.

You composed yourself before going out and heading back to the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks when you heard your friend and Yunho's voice.

"What the fuck is so special about her that you'd do all that for her?" You heard your friend's voice.

"She's everything I want; she's everything to me, something you'll never be." Yunho's tone was so low, it almost scared you.

You've never been scared of Yunho once in your life; he has always been so nice and gentle towards you. He never did something that would scare you in any way, so you assumed he was like that with everyone else.

"I wonder what her reaction would be if she finds out what you're doing behind her back." She mocked Yunho.

"I fucking dare you; I won't even look your way if not for her. She considered you her "friend. That's why I've tried to put up with you, but this fucking stops now. Stop throwing yourself at me and don't show yourself in front of us ever again, or"—you heard him step forward—"I'll fucking make you."

She actually tried to throw herself at him?

Bitch.

You heard footsteps, and then there he is, looking at you with a shocked expression, eyes as round as they can be, mouth slightly agape. Then you closed the distance between you and...

You kissed him.

You're kissing him.

You're kissing Jeong Yunho.

Fucking finally.

You had to tiptoe to reach his lips. When he recovered from the shock, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest, and kissed you deeper, more passionately. He's been waiting all his life for this, and he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass.

When you ran out of air, you pulled away from him slightly.

"I have something to tell you." He spoke first, gulping, thinking about what your reaction would be. This is it.

He led you to the poolside and sat there, folding his pants so as not to get them wet, then dipped his feet in the pool. He removed his denim jacket and placed it beside him, patting it, signalling you to sit on it. You obeyed, dipping your feet as well, the cold hitting you immediately.

Then he confessed. Confessed everything he's been doing since he met you. Like pushing away other kids so you'll only play with him. Threatening other guys to never pursue you or even look your way. Fighting with other guys when they said something bad or sexual about you. And the most recent thing is having to beat up someone just so he'll get in the same university as you.

You tried to process everything, trying to take in the new information. You honestly don't know what to feel, a surge of emotions hitting you all at the same time. You never knew he was so possessive of you; well, of course you knew that he wanted all your attention on him, but not to that extent.

Were you so naive to not notice all that? How is he so cold towards everyone and only kind towards you? How much he dislikes it when someone tries to get your attention! All the subtle glances and hand gestures he does behind your back, trying to warn others to not disturb you? Were you really? You never noticed all that? Or maybe you did; you just never cared because it benefitted you. You never cared as long as he's with you. You never cared as long as you always got your way. You ignored everything for the sake of you and your relationship with each other. And maybe, just maybe, you are just as crazy as him.

Feedbacks are highly appreciated!!

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highbabyofthenightcourt · 8 hours ago

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To say that Azriel only feels lust for Elain, because of the bonus chapter, is irrational. From the moment Azriel met Elain, their relationship has been building a solid foundation. Their conversations had substance. She asked about his wings even though it was not relevant at all. He showed her such a gentle side of himself in an attempt to make her feel calm around him, even speaking poetically “we are born hearing the song of the wind.”

When Elain was taken to the cauldron as a human, Azriel was unconscious because of hybern’s arrow. He did not see what was happening and part of me believes that it is because it would be too much of a spoiler for their story, similar to the way Cassian’s reaction for Nesta was a give away of them ending up together.

After the sisters were made, once Feyre decides to take them to the town house, we have the scene between Elain and Azriel where he asks her if she wants to see the garden. Noting that he knew and remembered that she liked flowers. And Elain, does not balk from him, takes his arm and marvels at his scarred hands. She is not afraid of him. Not at all. She accepts his touch and finds beauty in him, even in her broken state.

Once she starts behaving abnormally with her new abilities, everyone assumes she is unwell. Even her mate. The only person who realizes she is a seer is Azriel. Which is interesting timing considering Madja’s words of mates knowing what is amiss with one another.

In the meantime there’s a lot of moments where we can see that Elain and Azriel enjoy spending time together. He lays in the garden reading work reports while she gardens. Feyre mentions that Elain clings to him for comfort in social settings. Even Nesta does not protest to their proximity. It’s logical to assume there are reasons for this.

When the cauldron lures Elain away, the only person who realizes that she is missing is Azriel. He is adamant that he will get her back. This is reminiscent of Rhysand’s attempt to kill Amarantha, and Cassian’s crawling to Nesta when she was to be thrown in the cauldron. He does not care if he will die. This could be taken as him just doing his job, but once they are back to safety and he is horribly injured, he still does not put Elain down from his arms. She has to be taken from him.

Fast forwarding, we see that Azriel has become very jealous of her mate being near Elain. We see that Azriel has spent his time trying to find her a necklace perfect for her. For a year, he has fallen asleep looking at the gift she had gotten him. Once Rhysand interrupted them and she returned his present, he had to be rid of it because he couldn’t bare to have it as a reminder of the pain of that night. He questioned the deity that decided he couldn’t be with her.

To say that all of this is dismissed by the fact that he is also physically attracted to her is ridiculous. To argue that this is true because he hadn’t “planned what to do afterwards” is nonsense. Attraction is actually enlarged by feelings of love. And he didn’t “plan” what he was going to do about it because 1. He had given her the space to be with another 2. He felt that he wasn’t good enough for her 3. Because he didn’t know if she felt the same 4. Because there is a God-like power who is against it. But all of this became irrelevant once he had her before him, once she knew she wanted him, too, once he knew she was aroused by a simple act of his.

And also, i would like to point out that Azriel never tried to initiate contact with Elain. Ever. And he probably never would. He said there was never unrestricted contact between them. She was the one to want his hands on her. She was the one to whisper “yes” to him. Because she wants him, too. She wants him innocently and sexually and romantically, and as does he. Nothing anyone says will discredit all the beautiful build up behind Elriel 💞💞🌸🌸🦇🦇🫶🏼🫶🏼

#acotar #pro elriel #elain archeron #azriel #elriel #pro azriel #pro elain #azriel and elain #elain x azriel

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linearao3 · 1 day ago

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I don’t have a new Publish or Perish chapter and probably won’t any time super soon because I am very tired and also I hate that I am being accidentally Relevant due to H-1B Discourse. So please accept this tiny little interstitial — probably the only Kaz POV I will provide for this fic. You could say there are spoilers but I think it’s more like foreshadowing? This might not even be canonical to the fic. Who can say. But please enjoy.

—

He reaches for the phone out of habit, because that’s what he does now at night, look and see if Inej has texted him. And yes, she did just leave, but you never know.

She hasn’t texted. She just left; of course she hasn’t.

He thinks vaguely that he might have read somewhere that you should ask people to text you when they get home safely. He can’t remember if this was etiquette advice, or a devious way of making sure they kept thinking about you.

He’d had some notion, in his head, that after he kissed her, she might turn in the doorway and close her hand around his jaw, pull him down to kiss her. She is so warm, and her mouth is warmer, and he imagines — imagines too much, with too much of his time and too much presumption that he’ll ever find out — that it’s even warmer than that in her cunt.

He’s jealous of the stupid toy. He’s so smug that she likes it.

He types

Sex is so strange. I had all these notions of what I wanted to do, and I didn’t do any of them, and what I did do feels like the only good thing that has ever happened to anyone ever. That’s how I felt when you came to my office, too.

He never texts her first. He likes knowing she chose to start it, that she wants it. That she’s lying in bed thinking about him. He keeps typing.

The thing is that my brother died. And that’s the only thing that ever happened to me, really.

He’s forty — okay, no, he’s not forty, but he feels like he ought to be forty — and he’s tried to have sex exactly twice before now, once with Jesper and once with Imogen and they were both so disastrous he tries not to think about it. But he’s forty or thirty or whatever and he’s coming to the end of his debt and he will take care of Rollins soon, soon, pull out the brick of Marya Van Eck and everything will crumble. And then he’ll just be — a professor, he supposes. A professor with a good salary who could get stupid nice small things and could have friends over for dinner and could have a girlfriend. Because why shouldn’t he? Except that there’s a gaping savage maw where his heart ought to be.

I do still want to fuck you. I bought some condoms. I imagined you putting one on me, like a horny sex ed class with Dr. Ghafa, and I’d be so hard in your hand.

He jerked off before she came, with the idea that he might last longer when she was actually there, and he doesn’t know if he can physically manage three in a night but his body seems interested in trying it.

He was never really a teenager, he thinks— he woke up in the hospital whatever thing he is now, which wasn’t a child and has maybe never been an adult — so maybe now he’s doing adolescence as a crash course, an intensive study in constant graceless horniness and short-sighted stupidity.

You’re never going to forgive me. I want you to. You shouldn’t. It’s just that I’m selfish. If you asked me I’ll say that it’s because I promised you but it’s really because I just want to be able to see you sometimes. I want to be able to give you things. I’m not going to send this. I just got so used to telling you things. You are so beautiful and I want you so much and I am so tired. I’m going to sleep. Sleep well, Inej. Come and talk to me.

He force-quits the chat application, drops the phone, and falls asleep. He dreams Inej smiles, bright and vicious and righteous, and tells him he did everything just right.

#publish or perish #kanej fic

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dreamingofep · 21 hours ago

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Hi!! I was wondering if I could put in a request of an Elvis x reader imagine, where elvis meets the reader at a diner and she recognizes him (because reader loves his songs), and it goes further, and the next day he goes back to the diner to ask her out on a date and she accepts and it's just really cute and wholesome? Sorry if it's a lot but thank you!

Hi Anon!!! This is the sweetest idea! I just had to write this tonight! Hope you enjoy this cuteness!!

Elvis x reader

Word count: 1.1k

Tw: Elvis being so damn cute

✨

April 1960

It was a dreary Friday evening. Rain was trickling on the window of this old diner. It’s been here longer than your grandmother had been alive but it was a Memphis staple. Everyone knew about it and it was the best spot in town.

You sat in the back booth waiting patiently. You had a date tonight but he was late. Extremely late. Three hours late to be exact. You were getting ticked off and the cup of tea that you were sipping on was disgustingly cold. You hated that you sat here so long hoping and praying this boy would show up. Your girlfriend set you up on this date and you had high hopes it would go well. She spoke so highly of him and said he was ‘perfect for you.’

You didn’t have an appetite and knew you needed to give up this booth sooner rather than later for someone else to have. Your waitress was gracious and didn’t make you feel bad for sitting all alone. You were sure she picked up on the vibe that you were waiting for a date. You picked a pretty yellow dress to wear and everything with little white lace gloves to complete the look.

Now you just felt like an idiot looking like this waiting for him to waltz in like a knight in shining armor. You dig through your purse and try to find so cash to leave your waitress.

“Hello darlin’,” a deep southern voice says next to you.

Your head quickly turns to see who this man is and you instantly freeze.

Oh my god. It was Elvis Presley.

You hold your breath as you look at him. God he was more beautiful in person and those eyes were electric. You didn’t know someone could have such captivating eyes. His hair was slicked back and yet still fluffy. You couldn’t form any words as you continued to look at him.

He was somehow better looking in person which blew your mind. You knew every single song of his and now that he’s back from the Army, you were so excited for what he would come out with next.

“Hi, I’m Elvis,” he says reaching out his hand for yours.

You nod your head slowly, “I know- I mean… it’s nice to meet you, Elvis,” you say embarrassed, feeling your cheeky turn red. “I’m a big fan of yours.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. What’s a pretty thing like yourself sitting here all alone?” He asks, taking your hand and kissing the back of it.

You felt like passing out. There was no way this was happening. What turned out to be a horrible date just turned into something amazing. You’re talking to Elvis Presley. You could think of a dozen girls who would die to be in your position.

“Oh well I was waiting for a friend but it doesn’t look like they’re able to make it.”

You can tell he sees right through your lie. He takes a seat across from you and doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I’m sorry about that darlin’, they’re an idiot for not showing up. How do you like my booth though?”

You shoot him a confused look, not sure what he means.

“Your booth?”

“Yeah, I sit here every Friday night for a quick snack before we head off to the movies,” he explains.

You feel bad for taking so much of his time and let go of his hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair,” you say sliding out of the booth.

His hand stops you again though, lightly squeezing it.

“Oh no you don’t have to go, I didn’t mean anything by that.” He says a bit flustered.

You would love to stay longer, you’ve dreamed about a moment like this with Elvis but you don’t want to overstay your welcome.

“I better go, Elvis, it’s getting late. It was so nice to meet you. Thank you for letting me sit in your booth,” you say cheekily.

You quickly leave out the back door and feel so embarrassed. You hoped he wasn’t too upset about you being there. This whole night was just a whirlwind and you were looking forward to laying down.

You’re halfway down the block when you hear a voice behind you calling out for you.

“Darlin’ wait!” Elvis yells after you.

You turn around to face him, surprised to see him running after you.

“Yes?” You ask shyly.

“Uhh.. your date came back and is really sorry for making you wait. He would like you to come back tomorrow night, same time.” He explains.

You were honestly surprised by the admission. You got a bit of excited butterflies in your stomach thinking about it. Maybe it wasn’t a complete disaster after all.

“Oh, thank you for telling me Elvis. It was so lovely to meet you,” you say sweetly. You wanted to hug him or kiss him on the cheek for being so sweet to you but you didn’t want to cross those boundaries. You turn away from him, wishing you’d have more courage to do just that.

“I never got your name darlin’,” he says quietly.

“Y/n, good night Elvis.”

The next evening, you get ready and put on another cute blue dress with matching gloves. You were excited for this date. You’d try not to dwell on him making you wait so long yesterday but you’d give him a chance.

You open the diner doors and look around and see Elvis in the back booth, looking better tonight than the last. He stands up when he sees you standing there. He has a smile on his face and you walk toward him.

You feel giddy and love struck, not expecting to see Elvis twice in two days.

“Hi Elvis, what are you doing here?” You say in a giddy fashion.

His face lights up when he hears how excited you were to see him.

“I just had to see you again darlin’. You were the most gorgeous girl I have ever laid my eyes on. I was hopin’ you’d have a date with me tonight,” he says bashfully.

Your cheeks feel on fire and you can’t help the huge smile that spreads across your face.

“I would love nothing more,” you tell him. He pulls you into his arms for a hug when he hears your response and kisses your cheek.

“Oh you just made my whole night. Please sit down,” he says leading you to the booth.

“And after we were going to watch movies at the theater, I’d love it if you came too. I’d love to share with you some of my favorite movies,” he says cutely. He had this boyish wonder to him and you couldn’t help but fall for it.

You can hear how excited he was to have you here with him and hoped this night would never end.

“I’d love that Elvis, I couldn’t imagine a better night.”

Tagging:

@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister@velvetelvis @ccab @theresalwaysep

@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates

@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.

@myradiaz @tacozebra051

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf@eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley@chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything. @ohjustpeachy-

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony.

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rimartin11@that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley@cattcb@annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938

@50sexyshadestashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

@sloppiest-of-jos@thisis-theway @gatheraheart

@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x reader #elvis imagine #Elvis fluff #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #elvis fans #fanfiction

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countlessofvoids · 1 day ago

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what's interesting about hiccup's character that you never see people talk about? as someone who likes him, i also get annoyed by how the fandom sees him and i prefer him in the first movie over everything else.

A lot of things honestly. I have a hard time naming them individualy lmao.

I feel like people tend to take parts of Hiccup's character they like, then mold him into something imitating Hiccup. I see a lot of interpretations where his sarcasm takes up 90% of his personality and/or his entire motivation is saving dragons and killing people as some kind of vigilante. Another thing popular in this fandom that annoys me is taking other characters' traits and giving those to Hiccup.

But what I believe mainly gets ignored, or rather purposefully removed, is him being a 'peacekeeper'. Now, I can't exactly blame anyone for doing this, because continuations after the second movie either ;

1) Completly forget it was a thing.

Or 2) The Narrative actively shames him for it, or turns it into something else. This goes for THW — where it's treated as a flaw of Hiccup's character, then reduced to him "being afraid of change" (And circles back to the whole "Humans bad, Dragons good" message of THW, I could go on about this topic for hours).

The source material itself is not interested in exploring it.

This also happens partialy because fans think peacekeeper means someone who has no understanding of how conflicts work and expects everyone to drop their weapons to go frolic in the fields together. Hiccup gets criticized for trying to find another way, when he has a reason to believe he can change people. I mean, he changed the entirety of Berk. Yes, pursuing Drago Bludvist so you can convince him to join your side when everyone who has more experience with the warlord tells you not to, is not the best decision. But Hiccup is young, he's bound to make mistakes. Besides, events wouldn't alter too much if he did otherwise.

Which is a bit disappointing. I think it could fit with the theme of him being different from everyone else; Looking for a peaceful solution when others want to destroy each other. Another reason why I find this concept intriguing is because I see Hiccup as someone who struggles a bit when it comes to sympathizing with humans, especially hunters. Not as in he intentionaly hates them — he just spent his life befriending animals & dragons instead of people, so now he's spiteful especially towards humans who hurt them. I like to think he still holds even a tiny bit of spite towards Berkians and his enemies-turned-allies (not with Stoick & Valka though, it's complicated with them).

As for why I personaly don't like him in most iterations after the first movie: He's just kinda boring. He goes from a sarcastic loner who ultimately wants to be accepted by others, to 'young movie male protagonist n.1235'. Huge part of that comes from what was done with his design. Second movie!Hiccup has started to grow on me lately. I couldn't care less about RTTE!Hiccup. THW!Hiccup was on the right path, but they chose the worst and most contradictory way of doing it. It could also be the fact he loses relatability for me.

#sorry i went too off-track. hopefully i got at least close to the answer you wanted?#might edit this later to make my opinion clearer #hiccup #hiccup haddock #httyd hiccup #httyd #how to train your dragon #headcanon #analysis #criticism #also not a fan of how the fandom tends to use him as a self-insert to say what they feel towards certain characters #all that yapping about hiccup is kinda helping him climb his way up towards being on my favorites list #i need to make a tag for these httyd complaint sessions

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littleakito · 2 days ago

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awww babe i saw your recent post- I'm depressed as heck lately too, so I get that feeling. Imma drop some requests that could cheer u up bc I find them cute, but don't do them if you don't feel like it!

Little Mizuki wanting to play dress up and will settle for none but Kanade as the model, so Kanade gets to be a pretty princess

wxs all regress together and go on an adventure while playing princes and princesses

Emu brings Saki, An, and Mizuki to her house and they all age regress at the same time and wreak havoc on the Ootori household

Akito agere/petre in denial so he's just studying with Toya and Mizuki when out of the blue this idiot starts growling n stuff, so then he just sits there in terrified silence until Mizuki just looks him dead in the eyes and meows back. Toya just doesn't question it. He's too sigma.

Ena stress regressing, aggressively rings the entirety of nightcord 48795893 times until they pick up and starts babytalk yapping about all her opps

﹒﹒🐾﹕﹙HEADCANNONS & SHORT FICS﹚✦◝

Before I begin on all of these, thank you so much :( I saw that note a while ago and it helped lift my spirit a bit more. 🤍 love u lots

Now! These were all such yummy awesome ideas that I felt compelled to at least attempt write about them all, I hope this offering to the community is nutritious enough to last a bit haha.

✷﹒🎵🎀﹐LITTLE! MIZUKI & CG! KANADE﹕﹪

⁺ ☆ . ✦ . 　⁺

1　 ﹒　Mizuki owns all sorts of pretty dresses and accessories, it’s just a matter of when and where she can style them accordingly on herself! So, occasionally, stylish bows and cute scarves go unused for months at a time,, ໒꒰ྀི´ ᵔ ` ꒱ྀིა

2　 ﹒　Once she’s regressed and sat by all of her friends, however, it’s almost impossible for her not to think of having them dress up with her! Knocking off those boring sweats for sparkly tutu’s sounds like a dream come true..

3　 ﹒　Convincing them, however, may simply be the most difficult part of this masterful plan of hers! ꒰ྀི⸝⸝ -᷅ ⤙ -᷄ ⸝⸝꒱ྀི১

4　 ﹒　A shake, a whine, and some cute puppy dog eyes are her ultimate tactic! And as the rest of the group exchange glances, she can’t help but giggle and kick her feet, there’s absolutely no way they can say no to her now!

5　 ﹒　Mizuki can’t help but grin as she holds up a gorgeous, puffy pink dress towards K. Helplessly accepting it, Kanade let out a light, breathy sigh in defeat.

6　 ﹒　Her plans succeeded! Her friends look soooo cute! K, especially!

7　 ﹒　It’s not until a silly, pink princess dress is being put over her head that she’s realized that she forgot to dress herself up! She giggles and squirms as the group fits it over her tshirt, today…

..today was an excellent day!

⁺ ☆ . ✦ . 　⁺

﹙🎭﹚︰LITTLE! WxS﹐♫

⁺ ☆ . ✦ . 　⁺

1　 ﹒　Practice was meant to go as normal, play the roles, review the lines, ask questions, riddle everyone’s brains over said questions trying to figure out the answers, give up, continue playing the roles, and then finish up for the day! It was far from such.

2　 ﹒　Whether it began with THE Tsukasa Tenma forgetting his lines and being brought to the verge of tears from it, Nene’s phone dying whilst she was seeking a break behind stage, Emu’s sadder thoughts being brought into question, or Rui receiving strange looks on his way to practice, it simply wasn’t a good day for anyone!

3　 ﹒　Frustrated with these turn of events, Tsukasa initiated a plan! Plan-Regressing-Solves-All! How exactly he would manage to coerce 3 people into little space whilst still upset himself..? Hmm, a true dilemma! But nothing a star can’t fix!

4　 ﹒　It began with Emu, a simple tap on the shoulder, a long stare whilst she babbled on with a smile on her face, then, he cleared his throat. The question was simple, and yet he couldn’t help the flush on his cheeks. In his mind, “would you like to play with me?!” Wouldn’t cut it! However..

5　 ﹒　With a big, squeaky laugh, and her eyes shut tight, a smile squeezing up her face, she shook him around, agreeing with a big nod and exclamation of how “this would be so fun!”

6　 ﹒　A success! And so, the two march onward, in search of an abnormally tall purple haired little, and a rather tiny grey haired girl! In their minds, Rui and Nene needed saving! Trapped within the tower! It was Emu and Tsukasa’s great duty to save them from this terror!

7　 ﹒　Rui wasn’t that hard to find! To ask, however… ahhh. Tsukasa shakes his head, and pulls at his sleeve gently, Emu jumping in for a big big hug, nearly knocking the boy over! “Play with us, Rui! Play with us!!” Emu nearly screamed, giggling and kicking her feet. Tsukasa, in return, nodded. Rui didn’t have the heart to deny…

8　 ﹒　Rui took much longer to drop than Emu, Tsukasa noted. That wouldn’t be much of an issue, though! Besides, they had a princess to save!

9　 ﹒　Nene, sat within a corner behind the stage, curled within herself, appeared to be sniffling. The three exchanged saddened looks at this, a frown melting onto Emu’s face as she broke out into a wail, running (quicker than the other two could, Tsukasa noticed) towards the girl, babbling out questions of “are you okay?” At her.

10　 ﹒　However, none of her words seemed coherent, so, Rui stepped ahead, asking the question for her (and the rest of them!) she stared back at him with teary eyes and explained. She had overheard them! And she believed she wasn’t invited to play!

11　 ﹒　This won’t do, not one bit! And so, Tsukasa holds out a hand to her, and declares that the world must witness the prettiest princes and princesses at once!

12　 ﹒　The day very quickly comes to a close with giggles and smiles, much different than the beginning of this story!

⁺ ☆ . ✦ . 　⁺

﹢❛﹑🐕﹙LITTLE/PET!AKITO + MIZU & TOYA﹚＞＜ ⠀

1　 ﹒　Akito isn’t a fan of studying, this fact can be stated by anyone and everyone he’s ever spoken to. What he was a fan of, however, was making his partner proud.

2　 ﹒　So, when his teacher suggested after school lessons to kick his grade up a notch, he immediately sought out Toya, tail in between his legs as he began explaining his situation. Perhaps, a bit of shame was laced behind his words, but, he covered it up easily with a quick mention of Vivid BAD SQUAD, and how he was confident he wouldn’t have to miss any practices if he received a bit of help.

3　 ﹒　His brain felt fuzzy, in a way, as he began talking, it very quickly trailed off into silence and babbles of words that didn’t seem to make sense, not that he realized. Toya placed a hand onto his shoulder, and that jolted him out of his little trance, a muttered sorry coming his way.

4　 ﹒　Across the hall, Mizuki spotted Akito, a mischevious look playing onto her face as she crept up behind him. Toya eyed her, questioning what exactly she was planning on— ah..

5　 ﹒　Instead of a scream, or a yell, a bark flew her way, furrowing his eyebrows at her angrily. And yet, those words he had on his tongue to appear as rude as always disappeared. He huffed, defeated, and crossed his arms over his chest instead.

6　 ﹒　Whatever those two were talking about now didn’t matter to him, those looks he was being given, more. Had he seriously just barked at Mizuki Akiyama? What in Miku’s name was wrong with him, seriously..

7　 ﹒　It was no surprise to him that when he turned his ear away from their conversation, Mizuki had somehow found a way to join in on the studying. It wasn’t quite as if he could object to it now, anyway, they were well on their way to the spare classroom kept on the side of their school.

8　 ﹒　The studying began as boring as always, and it didn’t seem to become any less banal than ever as time progressed, and that.. stupid fuzzy feeling in his brain wouldn’t knock it off! It was enough to leave him frustrated, staring bullets at his paper.

9　 ﹒　After a bit of time, he felt different, less bored, yet still angered, and so, he growled.

10　 ﹒　Snarled and all, he rest his head against one of his hands propped up on the desk, fingers pulling at little hairs in his eyes. Toya gave him a strange look, as if he had just done something completely abnormal.

11　 ﹒　It couldn’t be more abnormal than those pants he was wearing.. and..

12　 ﹒　As much as he wanted to tell him to quit looking at him, before he had the chance, Toya’s voice sounded out, gentler than usual. His eyes softened, whether he’d admit to that or not, it was the truth. His shoulders became less stiff and his mouth was left slightly agape.

13　 ﹒　It only took him a mere 5 seconds to remember Mizuki was in the room, and so, he slumped against the desk. A light sound from in front of him was quick to appear, however, a soft, purr of a meow.

14　 ﹒　It was slightly slurred, and yet, Akito raised his head up and off of his desk to stare back at her. Meow..? Seriously, what the bark was this..

⁺ ☆ . ✦ . 　⁺

↷﹒💄﹒LITTLE! ENA & N25﹒✶

⁺ ☆ . ✦ . 　⁺

1　 ﹒　Everyday was a fight, whether Ena would admit that or not. Every waking moment was filled with some new thing for her father to scream at her over.

2　 ﹒　And so, when she sought comfort tucked within her room with a pencil and paper — a gentle melody in the back she was originally humming to — and the art began looking wonky and irregular, she huffed. It didn’t take much longer for another mistake to lead to her crumpling up the paper into her hand and letting out an angry scream at the world.

3　 ﹒　One pencil was snapped, and the pillows on her bed were now on the floor as she cried herself into a meltdown. One hand searching for her phone as the other found its way to her lips, sucking on her thumb.

4　 ﹒　Kanade was the first to join, and the first to hear her sobs of agony at every pencil and paper and father figure to have ever existed, then came Mafuyu, and lastly, Mizuki.

5　 ﹒　“Enanan..? What’s the matter?” She didn’t have an answer! Everything was the matter! Everything was wrong! Every piece of art! The Mona Lisa could burn for all she cared! She just..

6　 ﹒　She just wanted her caregivers! Was that so much to ask for..?! Her sobs and screams into her pillow started to become light sniffles as N25 worked their magic, letting her breathe without criticism.

7　 ﹒　She fell asleep nearly instantly, tears staining her face for the night.

8　 ﹒　And when she woke up, everyone was still on call with her, asleep or not, they were there. Along with a weird note right by her door with a pacifier attached to it. The note was sweeter than she’d like to admit.

9　 ﹒　Ugh…

⁺ ☆ . ✦ . 　⁺

HELLO HELLO! This was a grand post to celebrate the new year! Thank you sososoooo much to everyone I’ve became friends with in the past few months, and for all of the support I receive day after day. I love you all sosososooooomuch it’s unbelievable!

I worked on this for 3 hours straight ahshjahsj… with the exception of changing music, texting my friends with pleas of prayers for this, and editing the cards obvi!

I hope this is okay, and I did in fact avoid one of them haha… maybe I’ll get to it another time..? It didn’t appeal to me this time, sorry..

once again, happy new years, late merry christmas & happy hanukkah! I hope everyone had a great month over the holidays, ily all sm. I’ll be getting to the rest of my requests soon enough once I’m not burnt out haha.. thanks<3

⁺ ☆ . ✦ . 　⁺

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