#it's time for me to come out of my hiding shell from lurking in the gankaru fandom for 2 years but not posting any art of them ...

[alexpdcl]

yeah that's dangerous alright

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Held | Ghost x Price

Day 12: Rotten Touch w/ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Summary: While on leave, Simon can’t seem to get to sleep properly, and Price knows just the thing to help.

Word Count: ~ 1.3k

Warnings: death, murder, guns, blood, stealing, nightmares, ptsd, implied soapgaz smut, non sexual cuddling

A/N: my allergies are killing me, but this is my first time dipping my toes into the waters of priceghost, so I hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

His hands weren’t just an instrument of death.

They were a carrier; a harbinger of it, what made the sirens start blaring, warning people of what came ahead if they didn’t run.

Well, it wasn’t like running would help anyway.

Once he touched someone, it was over. Like a plague, a fungus, it spread from person to person.

From the mother, crying over the body of her dead husband who had a few new bullet holes through his chest, who’d reached for the gun, seconds too late as his finger pushed down on the trigger, silent shots entering her body, choked sobs coming from the now-wailing child in the corner as she ran to her mother’s body, shaking it as the ground rumbled from a nearby explosion.

To the shopkeeper, trying to defend his store, not wanting any men, especially strange foreign men, hiding in it to take cover from the gunfire and activity in the streets. The shotgun had been heavy in the man’s hand. One shot rang out, and Ghost had signaled forward with his hand, Soap’s knife embedding itself in the man’s neck before another shell casing clattered emptily against the floor.

Or the soldier, who’d probably been drafted or forced, or maybe even joined when he had been young and dreamed of glory, forced to fight an old man’s war. He hadn’t known the weight of taking a life yet, not when the bullet from Ghost’s sniper rifle tore through his head, body thudding against the floor, the family photo tucked into his pocket not enough to protect him when it mattered.

It was all the same to him.

Get the job done. Go home. Live another day and wait for your next mission.

That was how it had always been. But it didn’t mean the nightmares weren’t any better, that he didn’t feel any less bit of nagging guilt for the orphaned children, the grieving families, the war-raised countries feeding the newest generations hatred and violence, how to pull a trigger and not how to be a decent human being.

It was worse tonight.

He’d woken, cold sweat clinging to the back of his neck, limbs tensing and relaxing rapidly as he tried to focus on his surroundings. He was in the house. One window on the left wall, a door on the right one.

Price’s home.

The older man had offered him a place to stay while on leave, knowing that Simon usually just lurked at the base even when he could leave. He knew he had nowhere to go.

So he’d invited him out to a little house in the countryside, to stay for the three months they were both off. It hadn’t been terrible. Homemade meals, cooking, and cleaning up the house. He’d learned a thing or two about fixing leaky sink pipes, changing bulbs, fixing creaky doors and floorboards, and cleaning, and the fact that cooking bacon was a lot more terrifying than it looked, the grease popping up onto his arms and burning what skin wasn’t already numb.

It didn’t help that it hurt like hell.

Price was teaching him everything he’d somehow not picked up from his mother, things his father hadn’t even bothered trying to teach him, and no matter how much his older brother had cleaned up his life, he still hadn’t shown him any of this either.

Simon pushed the covers to one side of the bed, slipping out and letting his feet land against the cold floor. He began approaching the door, twisting the knob, stepping out, and walking down the hallway, legs carrying him to the kitchen for whatever reason. Probably muscle memory. He made a trip to the kitchen every time he woke up or couldn’t sleep.

A small thudding sound came from one of the rooms that had him whirling, stance shifting into a defensive one, and he realized that Gaz and Soap had decided to stay here a few nights too, probably feeling lonely on leave.

Sighing, he turned back and continued towards the kitchen, flicking one dimmer light on before grabbing a cup from a cabinet and filling it with water, draining the entire thing in one large gulp.

“What’re you doin’ up?”

It caught him completely off guard, almost embarrassingly so for the occupation he had. Price’s low, scratchy voice settling into the room.

He put the cup down. Turned.

Price looked like he’d just gotten up as well, hair a bit disheveled, only in some boxers, blue eyes bleary and filled with sleep still. He raised a brow, and Simon remembered the question all too suddenly.

“Nightmares.”

He answered abruptly, trying and failing to hide the slight tremble in his voice. The tremble that was also in his hand.

Price grunted in response, grabbing a cup, filling it with water from the sink, and gulping it down, eyes elsewhere, thinking about something. Like a less intense version of his scheming face.

“You wanna talk about it?”

No. He didn’t.

It was the same as any other nightmare. Blood, death, bombs, guns, grenades, war. What was there to even talk about?

But for some reason, his tongue betrayed him.

“I..”

The word slipped out instead of the usual flat no. He saw his Captain’s surprise and slight curiosity. It was hard not to.

He stood there like an idiot, not sure what to say, throat drying up as he grabbed his cup again, the movement to fill it and swallow the water almost mechanical.

“I don’t know.”

He concluded, walls being built back up, hiding him away again. But Price wasn’t having it. He could tell.

A small nod from his Captain. His lips separated, and he expected the usual statements of pity of sorries, or the empty justifications or assurances, but instead got something he never would’ve expected.

“I’m ordering you a tactical cuddle, Ghost. Recon in my bed at 2300 hours.”

He was left there, speechless, as Price gave his order, and then walked back to his room.

He checked the clock that was always a bit fast and sat on the kitchen wall. He had two minutes before the official “Recon” at the bed.

Taking another swig of water, he figured that he had an order; and he would damn well see it through as he began walking to Price’s room down the hall, slowly pushing the door open, walking in, closing it behind him as his eyes adjusted to the complete darkness, and feeling around till his feet hit the corner if what felt like a bed frame.

“There you are,”

Price murmured as Simon finally found the bed, knees meeting the mattress first as he crawled in, laying down awkwardly with his stiff limbs and tense muscles. Price’s warm, broad hand found his bicep before it slid down to his side right near his ribs. He heard the man shift, pulling some blankets over Simon, before another hand wrapped around him on his other side, gently wrapping around him as Price’s warm chest met his scarred back.

The thudding from the other room was steady against the wall and had him on edge before he finally figured out exactly what was going on in the room over.

“Those muppets, going to town on each other like we aren’t right here.”

Price muttered, making a little huff of laughter leave Simon before he realized something.

Simon Riley had hardly been held before, the only time being when he was a baby. It felt safe and warm like he didn’t have to worry about how many magazines or clips he had left, or the scope he was using, or the exfil, or friendlies versus the enemy. He was safe.

And as Price’s hands began gently rubbing into his skin, making him melt into his superior’s touch, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, his touch wasn’t so rotten at all.

Tags:

@hawke1917

@angstober

[coff-in]

aaAAAA I've been lurking and um um um I have brainrot from two of the previous asks >_> What if what if

Younger Sister Reader from the I love you more than I should post x Yandere Andrew post Decay route?? And they have the same toxic thing going on from that one post where Andy threatens to off himself if the reader moves an inch from his side. Like all I can think of is Andy having a shit ton of romantic feelings for reader that the reader is just coming into realization about while also reeling from the fact that, yk, Ash is dead? Andy telling his baby sister that he doesn't want to live if he can't have her (romantically, carnally, etc.) I just really want a jealousy scene where reader like...looks at another man and Andy is like "So. You want me to die?" and then reader has to comfort her older brother in a variety of ways that are decidedly not very sibling-like. Andy basically going "date me or I die" and reader is just. panicking.

notes from coff-in: i had trouble writing a ficlet or headcanons for this for some reason so it's just me fucking word vomiting my thoughts directly. also also also, thank you!!! i would've never thought people come to lurk on my blog, GUH IT'S SUCH AN HONOR!!! ur going to make my heart explode

[fem] reader-insert, [reader] is 1 year younger than ashley, incest, NSFW

i think it would mostly play out the same as yandere andrew with the older sibling but with more incestuous overtones. all i can think about is andrew and baby sister [reader] going out shopping or something. baby sis [reader] asks one of the employees where she could find some seasonings or something and the employee points to the aisle and leaves, then andrew comes up behind [reader] saying “did you really need to talk to him? hm? maybe you just wanted to ogle at him up close, huh? is your big brother not handsome enough for you anymore?” [reader]’s like “no no no!! I just needed to find the chili pepper, im sorry :(” and andrew makes her kiss him with tongue in the aisle to calm him down.

they’d have to get a job together, this is non-negotiable to andrew. preferably the same position so they’re close to each other but i think he’d settle on being in the same workplace in general if reasoned with enough. baby sis [reader] hides back into her shell again like she did when nina died but she doesn’t come back out this time. faced with the loss of her big sister ashley and the possible suicide andrew threatens her with, [reader] just deems it safer for her to be as introverted as possible. she’s still has some independence and autonomy but it’s only around andrew if that makes sense. she’ll cook and clean and entertain herself at home with or without andrew but in public she’s very introverted and clingy with andrew. andrew isn’t complaining about any of this though.

andrew’s very happy that he gets his baby sister to himself now! with all the fucked up shit they’ve done together he’s not too conserned with introducing themselves as a couple even if people put two-and-two together that they’re blood related. i can see him being very physically close and intimate with his baby sis [reader]. a hand on her lower back, hand holding, a finger curled in her hair, sleeping in the same bed, and like… a lot of sex. [reader] loves her brother and he’s been respectful when it came to sex. it took her a while to properly figure out how to feel about andrew’s romantic attraction towards her but she does feel the same way too (whether it was natural or something that was fostered while on the run). he likes to leave hickeys on her neck and other obvious places so people know who she belongs to.

every morning they wake up together in the same bed and say “I love you” to each other and they do it again every night before they go to bed.

i also think about semi-public sex with them, too. andrew gets jealous somehow and drags [reader] into an alleyway and forces her on to her knees and flops his cock on her face. “how about you show your big brother how sorry you are, huh?” she tries her best to take him into her mouth but she’s just really bad at it because she’s never done this before. andrew doesn’t mind, though, and praises her for her effort and eagerness because he can’t be mad at his baby sister for that long :) he cums into her mouth and her cheeks get filled up too quickly and some of his semen spills out of her mouth as she tries to swallow it all and andrew’s like “aww, what a good baby sister you are :) it’s ok if can’t swallow it all. i’ll have more for you later.”

i love this idea, thank you ‘nonnie.

----

coff-in

[multiverseofstrangeness]

12 Days of Smuffmas: Day 1 - Candlelight and collaring (Daddy!Daemon x female!OC)

A/N: Sooo it's the time of the year where even I am active again, even if it's just for a little "12 Days of Smuffmas" ( at this point cc to @ewanmitchellcrumbs). Anyways, this is the first one, tomorrow comes another one and lemme tell ya: I am already excited for tomorrow cuz I caused a lot of mischief in that one. So, have an enjoyable evening and enjoy the Christmas season. See ya tomorrow! Pairing: Daddy!Daemon x female!OC Warnings: slight daddy kink, collaring/kink themes, light Dom/Sub, English is not my first language!

Word Count: 540

She had been his sugar baby for a few years, to be precise, since she started studying Biology. In all those years, she hadn't found a single fact why he would have chosen her. She was a nerd, she loved her peace, and she studied all the time. But still, he had chosen her. And not only that but also that they had something more than a typical Sugar daddy/baby relationship. They were partners. She knew that from the moment he had asked her if she would want to dominate him one day.

Today, he called her and told her that he had a surprise for her, something that bound them closer. That sentence alone lifted her eyebrows to her hairline. She knew Daemon, and she knew when he was up to mischief.

As she entered his apartment that evening, she found the living room lit in candlelight. A variety of candles all around, from big to small and back again. That was the second moment today when her eyebrows were at her hairline.

"Daemon?"

She called out as she entered the small kitchen. She found him leaning over something, but as she approached, he quickly covered it with his body.

"Darling, what's that?"

She tried to lurk behind his back but failed as he gripped her shoulders and held her in her place.

"Haven't I told you to not question Daddy?"

And that was the third time her eyebrows were at her hairline.

"Daddy again huh?"

Daemon shrugged at her question.

"It was and will always be daddy for you, love."

She raised a brow again. Clearly suspicious of his behavior.

"Can't you tell me what you are hiding there behind your back? Please? I promise I'll be a good girl tonight."

He sighed and shook his head before he stepped aside, revealing a red collar.

"That's my present for you, darling. A sign that you were such an obedient, good little girl in all those years."

He had stepped behind her and had leaned closer. His breath hit her ear shell, his hands on her shoulders softly squeezing them before he pressed a faint kiss on her neck. She shivered at the kiss on her neck but reached to touch the collar. The fabric was soft, probably for the case to not hurt one's neck.

"Can you help me put it on, Daddy?"

She had her head turned to look at him. Her brown eyes were doe-like, like a little innocent doe. He chuckled at that and nodded as he took the collar from the kitchen table and placed it around her neck. His fingers lingered on her pulse point for a moment before he dropped them back to her shoulders.

"There you go, Sweetling. It suits you perfectly."

She felt his hands squeeze her shoulders as she turned to a small mirror. Her hands reached up, and she touched it with her fingers. She had worn collars for him before, but this one felt different, more personal. She smiled at him through the mirror and grabbed his hands to squeeze them back. He chuckled again before he turned around and focused back on the food that he had started cooking.

"You'll be mine forever, darling. Remember that."

[sm-writes-chaos]

Welcome to my little writing corner...

Hello peeps, tis I, Sm!

Fallen star but shining rock, a mountain of chaos of good or bad, but whatever character trope you may put upon me, I am just a mere traveler

Feel free to look around and make yourself at home!

Links:

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMProject (eh don't really use it though) Pinterest: https://pin.it/6jQ7KxQ

A little bit about me:

You can call me Sm, she/her. Nicknames are fine! I love all things written, all things drawn, and all things animated. I love to collect things, whether they be rocks, plushies, or pens. I aspire to publish a book someday, and to become a screenwriter perhaps.

Hyper fixations: Arcane, Death Note, Saiki K, Studio Investigrave games, Bungo Stray Dogs, books, Project Sekai (VBS), Heathers, cartoons, Danganronpa (I haven’t finished the third game sue me,) mythology, alien stage

I’m gonna stop myself there

Inspirations: Charles Shultz, Dav Pilkey, Jonathon Auxier, Stuart Gibbs, Jules Verne, Virginia Woolf, Emily Dickinson, Sappho, Miguel de Cervantes, like all mythology in general, Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, Ray Bradbury

Tags:

#writer thoughts - me being silly

#snippet - usually from HoF

#detached snippet - anything that isn’t from a current WIP

#doodles - any art that's mine

My Projects:

Hearts Of Fire: (HoF)

Progress: Writing 2nd draft ✍️

Norah is not one for introductions, but if you will know her name eventually, what's the point of hiding? The point is survival. Her village despises her, she's stuck looking after her drunken father, and she doesn't even know her mothers name. There is one light, her friend and mentor. This mentor talks of magical fortunes and smells always of fresh fruit, it was a dream. Until...one big fortune comes true, and Norah and the balance of the world is in danger. Thrown out of what she carved as her shell she treads the dangerous lands of the woods, searching for answers and solutions. If only a miniature nipping dragon, an amateur wizard, and her sworn enemy weren't following her. If only she could be alone, but for now, she keeps one foot in front of the other....Oh can those three be quiet-!

Full Intro: Here

Art by: @distortedsense

Tag List: Ask to be added or removed here

Header By: @firefly-graphics

TWUECUD: Thespians With Unregulated Emotions Cause Unregulated Drama

A sitcom inspired comic about seven weirdos in college!

Mikal and Jee pull pranks, Alison is anti-social, Vishal has failing grades, Nicole has anger issues, and Gage was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What do they all have in common? They were forced to join the theater club to make friends, led by the overly fast paced president Tylee.

Meet the characters here!

Read all the comics here!

I take scenario requests from asks

Ask to be on the taglist (Don't have a post for it)

Updates whenever I feel like it

Other: (Including short stories and random snippets)

A Girl

Random 1

Random 2

Pluto Hatched

The Wrong String of Fate

--

I of course have tens of ideas lurking in notebooks, google docs, and my own brain, but am focusing mainly on HoF.

Feel free to ask anything about my projects, me, or just to say hi.

[letstalkwhump]

Let's Talk Whump

Let's Talk Whump is a series of interviews with the wonderful members of the whump community. I'm Malice and I'll be your host. Joining us today is the one and only @oddsconvert !

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump! Do you mind sharing a little about yourself?

Hi there, I’m Shannon! I’m a 21 year old psychology and criminology graduate from the UK! My favourite colour is yellow. I basically have a zoo of pets bahaha; I have four cats, a dog, a rabbit, two rats, three fish and two tarantulas (not mine - they terrify the life out of me!)

When I’m not whumping and traumatising my fictional babies, I love to crochet, listening to/playing music (I play piano, guitar, clarinet and ukulele), and I’m currently teaching myself to draw…for whump purposes ;)

What does whump mean to you? 

For me, whump is freedom and release. Not only is it enjoyable, almost like scratching an itch? But it’s cathartic, and what I now see as a healthy coping mechanism for managing difficult feelings and a way to navigate my own trauma. Although, looking back, whump has been something that’s always been an interest of mine since early childhood, and has stuck ever since! Like rewinding disney films when the princes get tied up ahahah.

And also the comfort element of whump, I think it also helps me explore wants and desires in my own life. Writing my caretakers and their fierce protectiveness, and unconditional care over whumpees feels like it heals a part of me that maybe needed that at times. It gives you such a heartwarming feeling when you see these characters go through hell and back, and have someone to fall on at the end who will be there through thick and thin, regardless how choppy the water gets. 

And how did you find the whump community? What made you want to join? 

I used to scour pinterest for writing prompts! I only ever wrote in private, I’ve never EVER shared my work publicly before and never dreamed I would. But the more and more whumpy pins I was saving I was like “hmmm. These all come from the same site! Let’s go check that out” and then I scrolled the  #whump tag for endless hours instead of doing my university dissertation. I remember coming across @deluxewhump and @darkthingshappen first!

At first I joined as a faceless, lurking blog. I really wanted to hop in and join all the creators I was loving so far but I was terrified. I think I had a bio as something like “working up the courage to post.” And then some lovely anon sent me my first ask saying they’d love to see what I’d post! And I slowly crept out of my shell and bit by bit started building my profile and adding my name and posting my whump drabbles!

Pinterest whump prompts gang rise up! That’s exactly how I found the community too! Has your view on whump changed since you joined? 

I used to be ashamed of liking whump. Like it was some dirty little secret that made me a terrible person and I should keep it to myself. Hide it at all costs. Since joining, and interacting with this world-wide community of whump enjoyers, I realised it’s not something that should be taboo. If anything, it almost feels normal! Look how many thousands love it! And every single whump creator I’ve had the pleasure of meeting has been so kind, supportive and such genuine people! 

It really feels like coming home when you find the whump community and realise you’re not a weirdo! Would you like to share your favourite whump tropes? 

I’ve definitely discovered more about my whump taste! I used to just purely like captivity whump, usually with creepy/intimate whumpers. That was always my go to. Now? I’ve discovered SO many tropes I never even knew about and love! BBU?! Pet whump, whumper turned whumpee, bad caretaker, vampire whump, sickfics, hero/villain and so much more! 

Non-optional, you have to share a favourite piece you've written? Hype yourself up, we want to hear it!

Without a doubt, my first ever chapter of ‘Shattered’ - my bloodbag whumpee/vampire whump series. I’m usually very self-critical of my writing, but I really love how this one came out and how well it was written. I pretty much never get whumperflies off my own writing, but my poor sweet Declan - just living dead and the way Vince is forced to take care of him. 

But also honorary mention - my latest chapter of ‘Play Pretend’ . Play Pretend is my baby, and it was the first chapter of this series I had beta’d by my wonderful friend @whumpcereal and I felt like she just took it to the next level and kicked it up a notch. Josh’s fear and exhaustion came to life and I really enjoyed writing his inner monologue!

You weren’t kidding about the whumperflies in “Shattered”! Hot damn! What's your writing schedule usually look like? 

Night time for sure! Dead of night - 3am most often ahaha. I’m a night owl, through and through. I’ll try and write in the day and nothing comes and then night comes and I’m like brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, whole chapter done! I usually have some music on in the background, sometimes I make a specific playlist for whatever vibe I’m feeling! And I mostly write when the inspiration strikes, as much as I can get out until the motivation vanishes.

And do you find that the words flow better for somethings than others?

For me, I find it really easy to write my creepy/intimate whumper scenes. For Play Pretend, writing Felix’s deranged and creepy obsession with Josh just comes so naturally (maybe I should be concerned…). The way he’s so unsettling but so adoring with how he speaks to Josh and touches him, I could write it in a heartbeat.

More recently I’ve been trying to delve into the nsfw portions of whump and writing. But I’m a newbie with it, and I really struggle with writing it or making it sound good. 

Is there anything you're working on at the moment?

My usual schedule swings around, I update my series in an order. It tends to be, A Taste of Your Own Medicine, Shattered, then Play Pretend - and I’ve just updated ATOYOM so Shattered is up next! I’m primarily working on a flashback chapter with August currently! But I dot in and out of future chapters too.

I also have planned future whump series to come whenever my current ones finish up! But that’s a little while off yet. 

Give us some writing advice. Bless us with your wisdom, oh awesome one!!!!!

I WILL SCREAM THIS FROM THE ROOFTOPS - WRITE FOR YOU!

Never ever write based on what you think people like/don’t like.  The absolute joy in writing is the freedom in putting the pen to paper, or cursor to doc , and just letting your imagination run wild. Your audience is out there. People that will love and cheer for your writing, and I think you can really tell when an author has enjoyed and had fun with what they’ve written. There’s no good in getting bogged down with what others think. 

Write for you, post for you, and if others hop along for the ride - all the better!

Is there anyone you’d like to give a shout-out to?

I love absolutely everyone in this community, I’m gonna tag so many people - my besties alongside some of my favourite blogs and creators. Ily all you talented people. 

@whumpcereal @darkthingshappen @sparrowsage @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @for-the-love-of-angst @emmettnet @turn-the-tables-on-them @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @pigeonwhumps @whumpshaped @t0rture-me @ha-ha-one @not-a-space-alien @whump-queen @justsomewhumpee @livelaughwhump @writereleaserepeat and I’M PROBABLY MISSING SOME BUT YOU’RE ALL AWESOME

Finally, anything you'd like to add? 

The whump community has quickly started to feel like home to me, I have a lotta love for whumpblr and every soul I’ve met here! Thank you so much for having me and to whoever nominated me!

It’s been a pleasure! 

Happy whumping, people!

Thank you so much for joining us today, @oddsconvert! And to all you awesome folk at home, have a whump-derful day!

[blackjackkent]

OK, I thought following Oliver there meant we were going into the Shadowfell, but it looks like it just teleported us elsewhere on the map - we're back over in Reithwin village again.

And Mummy and Daddy are back!

Goodie. Oliver is also here in a shield shell that is labeled "Nightdome" with 300 hit points. So maybe we'll deal with getting rid of Mummy and Daddy first.

At the top of his turn, Oliver (now labeled "Shadowed Spirit of the Land") also summons a bunch of "Shadow Friends" (clones of himself with one HP each). "You should have just left me alone! Spoil my fun? I'll teach you a lesson - just you watch!"

The little clones hit pretty hard, actually, but aren't hard to eliminate at least.

Oliver got mad when we killed off the first big shadow. "Stop that! You're supposed to be playing, not breaking things!"

Look, kid, you're the one who summoned the wraith creatures to kill us. This was NOT our idea.

"You want to play?" he says at the top of his next turn. "Let me show you my favorite toy!"

And then he summons this:

It's difficult to tell in the screenshot, but it's a giant shadow owlbear with 60 hit points, and it's labeled "Shadow Plush" which is adorable in a horrible sort of way.

Shadowheart has been sitting on the Sunbeam ability provided by Lathander's Light for a while and this turned out to be a very good use for it; it almost (but not quite) one-shot the owlbear and obliterated Mummy.

"You're spoiling my fun!" snaps Oliver. "Stop it right now, or you'll be sorry!"

Kid, I'm sorry, you've got to come back and be yourself again. There's no getting around it.

"Why are you doing this?" he snaps, summoning more clones as the owlbear falls. "All I wanted to do was play!"

I went over at this point to start hitting his shield because this seems like it could go on for a while, but it turns out that it's been dropping in health this whole time - I don't think Sunbeam clipped it, so I'm assuming it's been losing health every time we dealt with his minions.

Hector gave it a final smack and it crumbled, which Oliver did NOT like.

"Why couldn't you just leave me a lone? Why can't I just stay here, playing? I had everything I've ever wanted, right here, and you've ruined it!" His voice rises to a strident wail, stumbling back away from Hector and the others. "I'm not leaving! You can't make me!"

Hector sighs, watching him. He wishes it was possible to just let the boy go; his anguish and frustration and confusion are obvious. But they have no choice.

"You have what you want, but not what you need," he says softly. "Thaniel. He's your friend, your kin - he's *you*."

"He's nothing to me!" the boy cries. "He left me here, all this time! I had to do everything for myself!" His voice shakes just a little, betraying the emotion he's been hiding behind his stubborn anger. "Even when it was scary. Even when I was alone. I didn't give up."

Hector crouches down to eye level again, his expression full of pity for the lost soul. "You were very brave and resourceful," he says softly. "Think of how much you'll be able to help Thaniel."

Oliver's eyes flick away; some of the anger fades at the reassurance in Hector's voice...but fear takes its place, a fear that has been lurking deep so he didn't have to look at it directly. "But would he even want me back?" he whispers. "I've changed. A lot..."

Hector reaches out cautiously towards the boy's hand; when he doesn't pull away, Hector grasps it. It feels light and cool, no body warmth, but it is solid in his grip. "Change is good," he says. "That's what growing up is all about. Together, you two will become more than you were before."

There's a long, long silence while the boy considers. Then a smile creeps cautiously onto his face.

"So...I wouldn't have to make up friends to play with anymore? I'd have someone real?" His voice is hesitant, then eager as he warms to the idea. "I'd like that. And he would too, I think. All right - I'll do it. I *want* to do it."

Pale green light weaves around him - resembling Halsin and Jaheira's druid magic, and the strange magic Arabella gained from the Idol of Silvanus. It begins to flood through him, lifting him into the air, consuming him, drawing him back to himself.

"Bye..." he whispers as he vanishes. "And thank you for playing with me."

----

Hector watches the light fade slowly back into darkness again. "Is that it, then?" he asks cautiously. "Will the curse fade now?"

"Guess we'll have to see what Halsin has to say about it." Karlach looks at him sideways and grins slightly. "You've got a way with kids, Soldier. It's a good look on you."

He smiles. "I find they like feeling like they're being listened to," he murmurs. "I just hope we weren't too late..."

[lightvsdark18]

Some responses to voicelines (Azul)

It's rude to lurk. Do you need me to guide you?

I'm not lurking, I'm looking around. Also, no.

You and your tender disposition will only be taken advantage of here. If you ever feel like you've drawn the short straw, come see me. You won't regret it.

I feel like that's a lie, so no thanks.

I'm in a fantastic mood today. If there's anything you desire, it is the time to say so!

There's nothing I desire though.

You find class annoying, do you? Just think of it as a game where you earn points from the teacher.

That sounds boring.

School Uniform

I will do everything I can to help make your school life more enjoyable.

I doubt that.

Board games make for a good mental workout. Care to join me?

Do I have to give up my soul, or are we playing for fun?

Don't worry if you fall asleep in class. I can help you on the test. For due compensation, of course.

*flicks him on the forehead*

You were searching for me? You're more than welcome to consult me any time you have a problem.

By problem, does wishing to vent to someone count?

I was listening to you sing in music class, and... Heh. No, that was rude of me. You're quite good, really.

Just tell me the truth, don't hide it.

P.E. Uniform

How can you walk so quickly with just two legs? You're incredibly talented.

Well, walking on two legs for 24 years vs two years.

I'm not embarrassed to admit that I don't excel at exercising. I'm sure you have one or two things you struggle with yourself.

... Actually, it's better I don't answer that.

We have flight class next. You certainly always seem to have a good time with it.

Well, in my world you don't fly on brooms, so this is a new experience all together.

If you're teasing me, I'll pay you back for it twofold.

Come at me, scrub.

Labwear

I'll teach you the trick to pulling off experiments ...as long as you pay me. Ha ha.

*flicks him on the forehead again*

Oh! You could get through that homework in an instant if you had my study guide. Have I piqued your interest?

No, not really. Heh.

Leave the alchemy to me. I'm an expert at proliferating gold. ...I mean through alchemy, of course.

*smirks and crosses arms with a raised brow*

Your stomach hurts? Allow me to boil some herbs. I have a mixture I'd like to test.

Like to test? Azul, I'm not going to be your guinea pig.

Ceremonial Robes

The rumors say I can grant any wish. Would you like to see if that's true?

Not really.

Have you come seeking my help, too?

No, I'm just here to tell you Jade is looking for you.

The clever should lead. Don't you think?

Depends if they're a good leader.

I've devised a plan for a special event that makes use of Ramshackle Dorm. I'd love to discuss it with you.

What kind of plans?

If you're looking for aid with ceremony prep, find someone else. I only take on intellectual work, as a rule.

Rude.

I would suggest keeping your favorite coin in your pocket as a good luck charm.

I don't think I have anything to use as a lucky charm.

Dorm Uniform

You're so lucky to met a compassionate person like me.

*squints*

I'm always willing to discuss any problems you might have.

I don't think you want to listen to baggage.

Helping people is what I live for. As housewarden, I will do everything I can to support my students.

By making them sign a contract and serve you for all eternity?

You have an open invitation to Monstro Lounge's VIP room anytime you find yourself in need. In fact, why not come right now?

Are you feeling lonely, Azul?

I've heard that the Sea Witch would use snail shell to contain her magic. Perhaps I should do the same with the pin on my hat.

I don't know, the shell could accidentally get broken.

Halloween

Mostro Lounge is currently offering a limited-time only Halloween menu. Do come by and check it out.

But I don't have money.

Let us enjoy this evening to our hearts' content. Now, let me hear you scream loud enough to reach the moon!

But I can't scream.

What do you think? Far more stylish than your average mummy, yes?

You don't look like a mummy.

Naturally, we celebrate Halloween down in the sea, too. Though merfolk don't usually dress in costume as land-dwellers do.

What do you normally do in the sea during this time?

Did you just say "trick or treat"? You have some guts to engage in negotiations with me.

Give me candy or I'll spray you with silly string.

Savanaclaw's costumes are all too familiar to me. We get our fair share of ghost pirates in the sea.

Ghost pirates?

What has you so worked up?

I don't know, but I'm not okay.

Do come and enjoy Halloween in the sea someday. I assure you, it is just as entertaining as our take on it here at Night Raven College.

How do I even do that without dying?

[luna-lee-mood]

I may or may not have been community lurking for the longest time lol. Anyway my main is GundhamTanakaDidNothingWrong. If you know me from there, no you don't/lh.

My Dm's are open as long as you ask first, are polite and don't start off with tk stuff right off the bat. That's not cool.

I hope I can make fellow community friends on tumblr rather than hiding like I have been, it feels nice to come out of my shell lol.

Asks are open to if people have questions or just wanna talk ig. Anyway see ya 💙

[donald4spiderman]

hmmm would love a continuation of the nudes blurb where they get back from the trip and morgan teases you two about it so you punish spencer for accidentally showing morgan the pics (ik he didnt SHOW him but i cant think of a better word lol)

thank you for giving me the incentive to make a part 2. I wanted to but i didn’t know if y’all would want that. sorry for making yall wait so long for this also.

TW: sub!spencer, kissing, implied smut, derek morgan is such a comedian

part one

-

“I can explain!” Spencer shouts as he enters the bullpen, signaling his return to Quantico from the New York FBI conference.

Your head whips up to find up him jogging behind a snickering Derek Morgan, the two of them steadily approaching your desk.

“Welcome back, boys.” You smile lovingly at your boyfriend, eventually returning your eyes back down to your paperwork.

The last time you formally talked to Spencer was when he was on his way to New York. You bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a grin as you reminisce about the sexual torture you put your boyfriend through.

“It is so amazing to be back, (Y/N).” Derek professes, propping his hand sassily onto his hip. “And boy, do I have a story for you.”

Your brow furrows as you examine the ever-so elated Derek Morgan, along with your anxious boyfriend, whose slender hands grip the strap of his messenger bag like it’s his lifeline.

“Go on...”

He smacks his lips, pulling out the desk chair opposite from yours. “Alright, so pretty-boy and are I are driving to New York. It’s 60 degrees outside, Sade is playing on the radio, and I’m jamming out.”

Spencer's face has gone completely red. He hasn’t said anything since his arrival.

“Where are you going with this, Morgan?” You have a lurking suspicion, but you give his story the benefit of the doubt—no need to stress.

“Now, you know pretty-boy well, right?”

You roll your eyes, “Duh, of course, I know him well. I’m dating him.”

Derek raises his hands in submission, “I’m just asking questions. Now, like I was saying, I’m jamming out to the music. We all know your boyfriend can’t drive for shit, so I’m stuck for the next couple hours at the wheel. I’m just trynna pass the time, but pretty boy has grown very interested in his cellphone.” Oh no. “And I’m like, why is Reid on his phone? he’s never on his phone.”

Your mouth is agape, and you flash a worried look towards Spencer, who grimaces in response.

Derek continues, “He’s being super weird about it— hiding his phone and fidgeting around— We even argue about it because I could tell something was up. I was about to give up, but then we stop at a red light; when I press the gas, pretty-boy’s phone goes flying face-up onto the dashboard. I saw everything.”

“No!” You groan, your face falling into your palms. “Reid, you fucking bastard!”

“I’m sorry, babe!” He squeaks. “I didn’t mean to—“

“I know! I know.” You dismiss him, Derek’s cackles echoing throughout the entire bullpen.

“I was so shocked! I swear my eyes fell out of my skull. Pretty boy and (Y/N) being total freaks over the phone— that is not something I was ever prepared for.”

Spencer attempts to shield himself behind you, snuggling up to your torso and burying his face in your neck, attempting to conceal his embarrassment.

“We are not total freaks.” You bite. “You have no right to judge; all you do is talk about your sexual conquests.”

“Who said I was judging? Derek Morgan doesn’t judge people who like to get down and dirty. And I’d never judge you and pretty boy. In fact, I’m glad he’s come out of his shell. I swear, when I first met him I was worried he was gonna be a virgin for life.”

“That’s enough, Morgan,” Spencer mumbles. “C-can you try not to embarrass us anymore, please?”

“I worn embarrass you, but I can’t promise that Garcia won’t.”

“Garcia knows?!” You and Spencer exclaim in unison.

“Duh,” Derek waves a hand in the air. “I tell my babygirl everything. It’s not personal. It’s a matter of policy.”

“Ugh, whatever.” You sigh. “We’re going home. It’s been a... long day.”

“Baby, you don’t gotta lie to Derek Morgan. If you want to jump your boyfriend’s bones, just say so. I know how ya’ll are.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Goodbye, Morgan.” You sing, yanking Spencer out of the bullpen by the wrist.

Once the glass doors shut behind you, you place a firm kiss on Spencer’s cheek, lingering just close enough to whisper in his ear.

“You’re so in for it later.”

And that cheeky fucker responds with an excited,

“Yes, Ma’am.”

[plush-rabbit]

Smile For Me

Warnings: Noncon, Somnophila

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: I’ve really fallen for Ghostface and that seems unfair (Part 2 to Picture Perfect)

You’re easy prey. Nothing more than a simple deer, a lovely little rabbit that he gets to stalk and hunt. There’s something odd about you, something so sweet and incredibly cute that he wants to corrupt. You change your locks, you add a sensor light that must have made a pretty dent in your wallet. He can see how you move behind the blinds, your silhouette, the way you walk and how you hold something in your hands, and he runs the first few times, but after the third time, he decides to push his luck, linger close, hidden behind a shed in your backyard and minutes pass until he realizes that there are no sirens. You don’t call for help, your alarms are nothing more than for decoration, to ward off a lesser person. You trust that whatever was lurking outside, has fled. And he falls for you naivety more. He falls deeper in love with you, covering his mouth with a gloved hand, the faint bitter taste of copper still lingering as he bites down to avoid his laughter ringing throughout your backyard.

Ghostface stalks you. He watches and learns what security system you have and it’s almost laughable when he finds out that it is nothing. All you have to protect yourself are different locks. The lights were nothing more than that, sensor lights that can do nothing more than to catch a rodent that lurks in your backyard. The locks might be different, but you don’t have an alarm, there are no cameras inside your home to record that he wandered around- drank from the bottle of your cranberry juice, sat on your couch and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, dried mud that crumbled and he stared at it, wondering if you would even notice, but with a swipe of the side of his palm, it falls and disappears into your carpet. You have no camera to watch as he grabs your underwear and jerks himself off in your bed, his mouth open behind his mask as he creams himself on your belongings, the memory of how you felt already fading in his mind. And once he’s done, he‘s left sticky and wet, creamy slipping down and it’s only a matter of time till you come home. He wonders how often you wash your pillowcases and he dries himself on your pillow, a soft thrusting motion that leaves his already sensitive cock dribbling with more seed, spreading it on your pillow. When he comes back to watch you, he sees through the blinds how you touch the pillow, your lips pouted and your fingers brushing against the hardened cotton. He wonders if you know.

You’ve captured his attention- enough for him to leave his other prey and focus solely on you. You fret around your home, clean and check every crevice, a pair of scissors in hand and he scoffs in amusement. He palms himself through his jeans. He wonders how you would really react if he were hiding inside your house. He can hide himself in your closest, jump out and wrestle you to the ground, watch as your eyes grow fearful and he’s salivating at the thought of entering you already, knowing how well you’d take him. With a soft sigh, he pulls his hand away. All he has to do now is wait for you to fall asleep.

Grateful for the night, he watches in silence. You walk around in your room, towel around your body, letting it fall off of your body and rest against the bed, your naked body alluring, the soft yellow light glistening off of your body, and you walk to your dresser, lotion against your body, spread thin, the creamy white disappearing onto your body. You sleep in a camisole, a lace trim around the straps, stitched onto the soft dip where your naked breasts lie, nipples already pert and peeking through the shirt. Your underwear are a soft blue, raising up your hips with a teasing dip to your sex. He doesn’t have to wait long until you’ve fallen into your slumber, body still and after a few minutes, he’s inside your home. 

It doesn’t take much to break-in. A simple twist and a careful step, and Ghostface is undetected, inside your home. The weeping mask stares down at you, a single twist of his fingers and your lamp is on, the glow of the light doing nothing but make you furrow your brows and with a simple shush, a coo under his breath that makes him feel like a dotting lover, you return to your relaxed state. It’s not much, but seeing you asleep- vulnerable and willing- is enough for him to kick off his boots. Clothes are slowly discarded, the pale, horrific mask still kept on, the soft cloth of the hood tickles at the base of his neck, and he’s above you. 

There isn’t much that makes him actually lust for others. He’s always been more fascinated in other areas of the human body, but there was and still is something about you that makes him yearn, to grab at you and mark your body. And one day, he’ll do it with your consent. He’ll come and greet you as Daniel- have you call him Danny- pull out the smile, pull you close and throw you on his bed, have you want him and there will be the sick pleasure of knowing that you’re fucking a killer and your personal tormentor without you knowing. But for now, he slips off your clothes, raises your thin shirt and he’s slow and methodical, pulling you into a sitting position and having you lean against his body, your gentle, warm breaths against his chest, your shirt is removed. He lays you back on the bed, hair fanning out into a halo, strands falling in front of your face and with a simple brush, the smooth fabric of his gloves cold against your skin. Your underwear is too delightful to tear off, simple and pure against your skin, something so sweet that it’s almost wrong of him to dip his fingers underneath and pull down your bare legs. 

Asleep and undisturbed, his hands are on you. For a brief moment, his mask is off, eyes that hold something fierce in them watch you, the low rise of your chest, goosebumps pricking at your skin and his smile is hungry. His face buried into your sex, tongue at your heat, his spit warming you and moistening past your folds. The tip of his tongue swirls around your entrance, a gentle dip into you, and in your sleep you clench your walls, a soft squish against his muscle and he smiles against you, wide and teeth pressed against your soft flesh. He presses his face forward, nose pressed against your clit, lips puckered and he kisses you, a soft, sensual kiss against your cunt, tongue slipping past his lips, and into yours, flickering inside and on the tip of his tongue, he can taste your sweet nectar, oozing in a thick puddle against him. 

The mask returns, hiding his identity and in it’s in place, the gloves are removed. There’s a sound outside, a racing car that screams through the night and in his chest, his heart races and his body flushes, his face heating up, sweat beading on his forehead and two bare fingers enter you. You’re slick enough to enter but he can feel the tight grasp of your sex, something that he’s sure stings by the way you shift under him. His fingers curl in, a beckoning motion inside of you, fingertips brushing against your walls, slick slowly starting to form until the clicking noises in the room intermix with your breathy, soft moans- a cry that whimpers past your lips. He grows hard above you, watching your breaths deepen, the wet, shucking noises of your cunt grow louder, fingers slipping in and out, your arousal dribbling past his fingers and down to his knuckles. It’s awkward, fingers pushed deep inside of you, his knuckles kissing at your cunt as a strong hand reaches to grab his camera, holding tight onto it, his fingerprints dirtying the screen and it’s shaky, a horrible picture when compared to his previous works. He forces himself to still, fingers half way inside of you, limp and still compared to your throbbing, wet cunt that still leaks and there’s a click. On the screen is a captivating photo of your cunt teased with his fingers. And as always, Ghostface isn’t satisfied. 

Metal clicks against each other, a soft chime in the room that acts as a lullaby, pulling you back into sleep, your body relaxing, breath going back to its own undisturbed tempo and all that remains is a wide-eyed man staring at you through a mask. Dark eyes are unwavering as they stare at your sleeping body- you look so peaceful, so rested and deep in slumber that he’s sure you must have had a heavy day and he feels almost sad at that thought. Bare hands grab at your breasts, thumbs pushing around the pert nipples- he’s almost sad that you had to grow through something so heavy without him- his hands lower to rise against the swell of your belly- he promises to himself that you won’t face it alone next time- one hand holds onto your hip, the other against the base of his cock, pre-ejaculate beading off his slit in opalescent pearls. 

He lowers himself to you, the plastic of his mask brushing against the shell of your ear and he’s hopeful that you’re listening to him. “No one is allowed to touch you, you know? I’ll make sure of that.” His cockhead is pressed flushed against your entrance, arousal mixing and getting lost with each other. Nails dig into your hip, perfectly formed crescents appear on your body, the hint of blood is familiar to him and makes him almost inhumane. His laugh is sharp, unforgiving and cruel, as he presses himself further into you, the welcoming hug of your walls wrapping tight around him and he releases his hands from your hip and himself. “My fucking muse,” he whispers harshly, stilling himself inside of you, your walls pulsing against him, a gentle pull deeper into you. “My naïve-” his hand covers the swell of your belly- “dumb little muse.” He wonders if you’re late. He wonders what you have done to either rid yourself of his kin or to prevent yourself from being bred. “I wonder what it’ll be like-” his thumb arches gracefully over your stomach- “seeing you with a child, tits full of milk, cunt always creamy, ready for a good pounding.” He laughs lowly, hooking an arm underneath you, hand spread against your spine, arching and he’s deep inside of you, feeling you tighten against him. 

The masked killer is grateful that he’s forgotten how you feel. You’re limp, nothing more than a warm sex-toy for him, curved and heavy underneath his hand, neck bent and mouth parted, and he smiles when he sees your eyes begin to flutter. That’s what he wants. He wants to see your fear. Intruding on you in your sleep is wonderful, invading your home and snooping around your things is nothing more than an extra step for him, something for him to relax himself with, but with all your fearful glances, he’s never realized that he could force you to look scared, to see it up close and personal. 

He continues to thrust against you, moving his cock and a hand, large and heavy, fingers that look perfect and immaculate, wrap around your throat, small, pale scars wrap around his fingers like rings of past lovers, memorabilia that is only seen when looked upon closely. He tightens his hand, cutting off air and your body reacts first, going rigid, hands raising and eyes popping open in horror and he truly does ponder what it must be like to see him. Your nails dig into his hands, eyes already wet with tears, and you’re horrified. He can practically smell it off of you, the dripping arousal, the way he can feel your heart speed up through the pulse in your neck, the way you gasp for breath and he can hear you whisper out something, strained and hoarse, only able to be heard when he stills his hips and stops the lewd noises that scream from your cunt. 

“Ghostface,” you mumble, bottom lip trembling and a lovely blue color forming on your face. 

His smile is stretched comically beneath his mask. “That’s right.” He pulls out, the tip still warm inside of you, leaking with arousal and he slams back into you, legs tensing, muscles strained and taut as he fucks you. “The one and only,” he whispers, pressing the mask against your face, the soft mesh of the black mouth kissing against your frightful parted lips.

He keeps a hand around your neck, loosening it enough for you to breathe again, while his other hand slips between your meshed bodies, dipping past your mound and into your slit, circling around your clit, feeling it throb under his touch. He laughs and it’s full of pride. He holds you close, pulling you deep against him, a soft cry when you instinctively clench as he circles around your pearl. Tears slip past your eyes, catching against your eyelashes like pearls, latching onto his hands like dew on the morning, and he’s pressed himself still against you, hand leaving your clit, and reaching blindly for the abandoned camera, taking a picture of you with a hand around your throat and tears a simple, but handsome ornament. On the screen is you, terrified and crying and he tosses the camera to the side, plastic buried into your chest as he fills your hungry cunt with his seed.

“I can’t wait to see you with a round body.” He pushes himself further against you, cock dribbling inside of you, filling you with copious amounts of semen. “Fat fucking tits-” his tongue pushes against the black fabric covering his mouth, licking at your chest that has moistened with his quick breath- “a creamy, little cunt that will beg to be fucked.” His hand returns to your clit, pinching the bud between two fingers and hearing you squeal makes him thrust his hips, shivers running down his spine, the sensitivity making squirts of thick discharge fill your already prepped cervix. “Trust me-” he rises and looks at you and he knows he’s making eye contact- “when I’m back, I’ll make sure to make you feel good.” 

He latches onto you, hand escaping your neck and he hears you gasp for breath. You wheeze and croak, crying and pleading for him to stop and it only pushes for him to go further, to fuck you until your muscles start to tense, twitching and pulsing. You moan and it’s muffled by a bite of your lips. It’s a short sound, cutoff and ruined by you, but it’s alluring, melodic and making him shove two digits into your mouth, pulling your jaw down by your teeth and his fingertips rest flat against your tongue. Your moans are stretched, muffled and broken and it’s still enough for him to want more, to push himself deep inside of you, to have you reach your own high if it meant he could hear more of your perverse sounds.

“Say my name,” he murmurs, naked body sticking to yours by his sweat. “Scream. I want to hear you say the name of the one who’s making you feel this good. Scream and I promise that you’ll survive this night.” He kisses you through the meshed black of the mask, salvia swapped and spreading into a thin puddle of his mask, pushing his tongue through it until he feels as if it’s going to rip. You were always going to survive. He’s had too much fun to ever let you go but you don’t know that and he uses it to his advantage.

It’s a whisper, a soft movement of your lips against his. Your nipples rub against his chest and his name is broken with your voice. “Ah,” you sing, tightening your legs and your high is approaching. “Ghost-” he can hear the disgust and lust mixed with each other- “Ghostface,” you murmur. It’s repeated until your voice is hoarse, lust taking over, eyes heavy and rolling back, arms reaching around him and you’re entangled in a gruesome hug with him, moaning his name as your cunt clenches around him, flooding with your release, his name a mantra under your breath, echoed in the room and he stills, spilling inside of you. Eyes closed and resting his body onto you as you squirm underneath, desperate to continue your high. His name, “Ghostface” slowly murmured, a mess of his name as you release against him.

[yanderart]

Another installment in my yandere pov series, and inspired by a few anon requests I got to paint dabi. 

Below the cut, as customary, is a one-shot I wrote for the backstory behind the portrait (Dabi x reader, 3k, dark themes). Hope y’all enjoy 🖤

Tws: nsfw, noncon, hinted kidnapping, inner turmoil. Overall nastiness.

   Staring at the marred back of the man lying beside you, eyes following the billowing pattern of his scars, it was easy to pretend you two were just another couple sleeping side by side. Pretend that you weren’t in a ratty motel room hidden away from the world, on a mattress that creaked with any slight shift of movement, and with the bitter taste of fear resting below your tongue.

   Pretend that he loved you, just like you loved him. Fantasize that it wasn’t the type of complicated infatuation corroded by trauma filled pasts, by bitterness and the phantom of brokered trusts.

  But then Dabi turned, the hitch in his breath warning you of his now alert state, and when his cobalt eyes held your stare all illusions were promptly shattered. Wishful words died on your lips before they even had the chance of being born, the frown on his face deepening as his arms circled around you, drawing you close.

   You tried to leave your mind blank then as he pressed your face into his chest, wishing it was easier to tune him out while he muttered lazy words against the shell of your ear. 

   “What happened, Princess?”, Dabi’s sluggish smile dragged the corner of his mouth upwards, making you feel the unmistakably texture of his metallic staples digging into the side of your face, “Are you lonely?”, He was mocking you, of course, and yet it was hard to not identify the hopefulness that hid behind his jest. 

   A hopefulness that went hand to hand with his need, with the sharp line of his body enveloping you and a rapidly hardening length heating up your lower abdomen. 

   A tremble shook you, prompting you to curse beneath your breath as a low chuckle was drawn from the man holding you. 

   “Or were you cold?”, and he was still teasing you, elated in your humiliation. 

   Because you were naked in his grasp, without even a blanket to aid you or any other heating present in the musty motel room. He had refused you any covers from day one, taking away what little you owned in terms of clothing and citing the fact that you needed not hide away from his glare. But you knew the truth behind his meager explanations, the reasons why he so rejoiced in seeing you exposed and trembling.

   In the death of winter, with the cold biting at your skin and the air feeling suffocating in its humidity, he was your only source of warmth.

   It became impossible not to let out a reluctant sound of relief as he dragged his palm through your sides, heating up your skin with languid movements. Although you were luckily way past the point of feeling any embarrassment at your own willingness to stop the cold, past the point of blaming your body for reacting in the way your captor had conditioned it to do so. 

   “Want me to warm you up, then”, Dabi muttered now at the base of your neck, his breath hot and almost painful as it grazed your nearly frozen skin, “Princess was so cold she couldn't even wait for me to wake up on my own, is that it?” 

   He wasn’t even expecting an answer at that point, just talking for his own sake as your shaking became even more pronounced, getting off on forcing you to hear whatever sadistic taunts his mind provided. Unwittingly pressing yourself against him as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp (dumb girl, should’ve known better than to think you would ever get away), by the time you felt the twitching of his bulge against your stomach it was too late to try and pull back. 

   His hands were pressing you down from the small of your back before you had a chance to think of voicing any discomfort, his sarcastic laughter turned into a low rumble as he proceeded to roll his own hips into you, angling you with ease so that he was pushing against a much more sensible spot lower down.  

   With your face away from him, it was too late for you to trick yourself into zoning things out. All you could see was the dirty mattress you were forced to lay on as he continued to mutter against your pulse, the rough texture of nails diving into your flesh as he coaxed you into following his movements, setting a cadence for you both as he continued to rut into you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

   All you could feel was the disgust climbing from your gut, the burning sensation of tears you hadn’t been able to shed since your very first few weeks with Dabi. 

   “I’ll warm you up, baby”, he was whispering as one of his hands crept up your stomach, tickling your ribs with its blazing touch and making you wonder if you were about to get marked again. He sounded so utterly pleased with himself, so absolutely content, that your mind was quick to conjure up images of blue flames licking at your flesh, of the barely fading scars that littered your entire body. 

   He took one of your breasts into his grasp then and snapped you away from your lingering memories, kneading it slowly, almost carefully, before his fingers made contact with the sensible bud of your nipple. Again, it would’ve been so easy to get lost in that sensation, in that revering touch, if your circumstances didn’t make it anything short of horrifying.

   (But you were warming up already, weren’t you? Your cunt reacting despite the disgust and horror you proclaimed, slick gathering as it greedily prepared for the impending intrusion. What a liar you were, Princess.)

   He continued his lethargic rhythm as his fingers toyed with your chest, teasing himself (teasing you both), before taking his other hand away from your lower back. You were trained enough not to try getting away from Dabi by that point, knowing better than to fight the inevitable, but it was still hard not to feel shame bubbling back up as you found your own hips stuttering down to meet his out of reflex.  

   In his hands, your own body became the deadliest weapon he could wield against you.

  (Yet you’re enjoying this, you like this. Therefore, you must like him too, right?)

   His now vacant arm slid up until he was roughly grasping your jaw. He angled your face down to stare into his gaze, into his scarred face and parted lips that morphed into a perfect picture of lust riddled reverence. And seeing the longing in those orbs was far crueler than all of his jests, all of the degradation and threats. Far scarier, too. 

   “Kiss me, Princess”, he commanded then, his stern voice almost succeeding at hiding away an eagerness you knew lurked beneath. 

    And you did, because you knew the consequences you’d otherwise face. You dived down to capture his lips in a mechanical way, moving dispassionately (or that’s what you tried telling yourself, as in denial as you were) until he took over. Much in the same way he had coached your hips earlier, the hand in your jaw instructed you with light movements until a pleased sound left the back of his throat. 

   “So willing for me”, he praised in a hushed tone as he briefly broke away, voice grave and dripping with desire. 

    And just like before, it wasn’t long before he decided you were well enough accustomed to the action, and then the grip holding your jaw was once more moving downwards, his scorching touch now merely tickling you as a palm pressed against your stomach, massaging your flesh as it continued its path to the same place his thrusts were directed at. 

   Your breath caught in your throat then, eyes closing as you tried to preemptively contain your emotions. 

   Dabi did not appreciate that. 

   “Look at me”, he uttered with a dark edge, a heavy order to loom over your quivering shoulders. 

   But you kept your eyes tightly shut, feeling fingers snaking between your legs and tracing the outside of your cunt as they quickly became dampened by the wetness gathering there. The squelching sound of his digits dipping inside your folds only made you cringe further, so focused as you were into keeping immobile and quiet. 

   You wanted to disappear. (You wanted to open your eyes and moan).

   Confronted with your tenacious refusals to comply, one of his fingers made its way to your hidden nub as a response, proceeding to mercilessly rub against it before he gave you any time to become accustomed. The spiralling stimulation made it difficult not to visibly shake. There was nothing teasing or slow about his movements, unrefined and harsh, yet you thought you could feel Dabi’s frustration at your stubbornness through that touch alone. 

   “Look at me before I decide that just humping your needy cunt won’t do”, he threatened, his own words breathless and hoarse.

   Which did give you a moment of trepidation as you tried and failed at ignoring his assault on your body. Your hands were now clenched into fists against his chest, nails digging into your own flesh while his fingers delved deeper inside you. They stretched you in a way which felt uncomfortably pleasant, quickly finding your tender spots in a practiced manner. 

   “C'mon, you don't have to make it harder. You've been so good for me lately, so sweet", and despite the terrible nature of his words, the slight softening of his tone had a terrible effect on you. 

   His words scared you, terrified you, and yet the backhanded compliment only made you more lightheaded, helping the unwilling pressure steadily building up due to his quick and nimble fingers. 

   You didn't notice his face getting closer, his breaths coming in hot puffs against the skin of your tender neck, but you did feel his lips as they closed against the crook of it, his teeth as they scrapped carelessly before claiming that same spot in a painful show of dominance. 

   You were trembling now despite a part of you still commanding your eyes shut. Inside you, his digits felt warm, so filling already, and you couldn’t help clasping around them despite your attempts at ignoring any unwanted excitement. 

  (Were you seriously going to cum on the fingers of your captor? Of the man whose face now plagued your nightmares, whose voice never left your conscious mind? My, my, what a hypocrite of a whore you were.)

   “Mine”, you thought you heard Dabi whisper as his love bites continued littering your skin “My princess.”

   And wasn't it fitting, how his awful nickname for you was the last thing you heard before his fingers achieved their goal. Two of them were slamming in and out of you, filling the room with horrible wet noises that you had unsuccessfully been trying to tune out, and a third one still insistently toyed with your clit. 

   It was fast, it was relentless, and your eyes were shooting open without your permission as a choked moan finally escaped your tightly shut mouth. You shook while you came, opening your fists against your assailant's chest and trying to ignore the pungent taste of shame as you found purchase on his shoulders instead. 

   From the back of your conscience, still overwhelmed by the shots of pleasure shaking your core (by his fingers that hadn't stopped for a second, insisting on accompanying you through your orgasm), you thought you heard a satisfied hum coming from the man holding you. 

   And as the pleasure numbed slowly, as the sensations turned painful while he refused to leave your oversensitive sex, Dabi was finally exiting the cover of your neck and his cerulean eyes were finding yours again. 

   There was a satisfied smirk in his lips, his expression almost soft if it weren’t for the hidden glimmer you had learned to tell apart.

   “Now, now”, he cooed at you as he continued to force your body into overstimulation, sobs fighting to exit your throat now instead of the unsolicited moan from earlier, “I knew you’d be good. You always listen to me now after all, don't you, Princess", his other hand had started kneading your other breast, left neglected until now, and your body was so unbearably hot by that point that you would have gladly welcomed back the terrible winter cold, “You'd do whatever I ask of you, wouldn’t you?”

   It was hard to think, hard to respond as the last vestiges of your pride still leaked out of you and facilitated his relentless attack on your flesh. Your nipple was being pinched roughly, only adding to the pain of being overstimulated.

   (But you were feeling It again, right? The tell-tales of your arousal awakening for a second time. So eager to please him, to be obedient despite whatever objections you claimed to harbor). 

   Another tug at your chest, this time nails lightly digging in, and you were slapped out of your dazed state into answering with rushed words. 

   “I'll do whatever you ask, Dabi”, your voice felt foreign to you, so small, so docile, “but make it stop. Don’t...”, a sound resembling a cry fought its way out through your sentence, one which neither of you knew if it was from discomfort or a pleasure quickly gearing its head back up, “make it stop, please.”

   He was so fucking satisfied to hear your meek little pleads again then, relishing on them like a man starved after so long of your stubborn refusals to speak. To his ears, it sounded like the chorus of heavenly angels descending from the heavens to reach him. He, who if there even was such a thing as Heaven, would be better fit for the scorching flames down below. 

   And that's when you felt it again, the threat of his now bare cock coming to rest against your pussy. It was a tentative probe, almost clumsy without hands to aid him in his search, and his fingers did not ease their assaults for even a second as you tried not to feel betrayed.

   (But did you really believe he would keep his word? That he'd just hump you like an eager virgin when he knew the alluring slickness waiting to hug him, to welcome him back? You were even dumber than you looked.)

    “I know I promised", he admitted while you felt his warm erection pressing slightly, teasingly, against your slit, your own body starting to reach its second cusp without the time to even completely get down from the first, “but you took too long this time, Princess. You were being such a brat…”

   And it was almost poetically ironic, how your second orgasm hit as his fingers relented and his cock finally entered you in their place. It stretched you in a way which was no longer painful but filling (it didn’t make you cry, having you fruitlessly trying to find anything to ground yourself to as it tore you apart. Not anymore anyways). You sighed and moaned while being stuffed full, finally giving in despite any apprehension, and your pussy took him in and hugged him tight as a response. It distracted you from the shame, the guilt, the remorse, and before long your keening was filling the room with its eagerness. 

   “Maybe next time”, he kept groaning against your ear, now both hands going down to grab at the supple globes of your ass, persuading your pliant body into follow the rhythm he was easily setting, “if you're better then, if you…”, even for him it was becoming harder to talk, entranced as he was by the welcoming hold of your inner walls, “if you don't wake me up, if you aren’t so needy. Maybe then, fuck.”

   You were still cumming as his halfhearted promises mingled with his excuses, as he became lost in his own pleasure, in using you as he saw fit. And, lost as you were in the sensations, you were foolish enough to think them true for a moment.

   Maybe next time, you repeated to yourself as his thrust become frantic. His grip on your ass turned painful as he lost sight of the force he was using, his palms heating inadvertently and your skin sizzling below them. You'd have more marks once all was said and done, more patterns to add to your growing collection. 

   Maybe next time he woke up he'd let you go. Maybe he'd finally understand love was not a prison nor a leash. Maybe next time he would ask for your forgiveness, understanding all the trauma and horror he was forcing you to endure. 

  (Or maybe you'd be the one asking for penance, kneeling in front of him and finally seeing him in the way he so desired. Maybe you would start understanding the dimension of his efforts then, of his love for you that he knew not how to show otherwise. A love that scared him as much as it damaged you.)

   As his hoarse moans mingled with your own, you were too drunk on your own fantasies to even attempt to squirm away before he was filling you up with his seed, your walls still convulsing around him as your body stayed attentive, pliant and tender. His lips were kissing you, licking you in poor attempt at providing comfort, and yet you felt a hopeful smile turning the corners of your lips ever so slightly. 

   So many things could happen next time. And anything would be better than this, right? Feeling his cum coating your insides as a litany of nonsense left Dabi's mouth, his softening cock refusing to leave and allow any drop to leak out. Anything had to be better than being owned, being conquered. 

   (So naïve you were, the only person you had gotten good at convincing was your damn self.)

   “Love you, princess", his head was buried in your neck again, his favorite place in your body to hide in while he slowly rocked you both, “so fucking much.”

   And in his own twisted way, as much as you wanted to fight and argue, you didn't doubt his words. Such a twisted love it was, but unquestionable in his burning desire. 

   Even as it charred you to a crisp, leaving nothing but ashes behind and deadlier than anything his quirk might subject you to. 

   Dabi loved you, his sweet little princess, and maybe if you weren't so stubborn you could start loving him back. 

****

Probably the longest one-shot I've posted alongside a portrait so far, since I'm still getting comfortable with the length of my writings (still cant believe people read and enjoy these lol). And special thanks to my pals @reinawritesbnha, @coyambition and @snappysnapo for lending me a pair of eyes before posting 🖤 love y'all !

🥀 Requests/Suggestions OPEN 🥀

[scxrlettwxtches]

a crown of thorns | hwang hyunjin

genre: royal au, fluff/angst, fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy, slight violence

description: a few years have passed since your tumultuous beginnings with the enemy king, hwang hyunjin, and to everyone’s astonishment, your marriage flourished with an abundance of love. however, this was not yet a happy ever after, and danger still lurks within every corner of your peaceful kingdom.

word count: 14.0k+

a/n: ack the more i read this, the worse it seems to get haha. but guys!! this is my last fic on this blog!! thank you again for all the love you’ve shown me and my writing. <3 wishing everyone all the best!! 

As he sat on his throne, absently chatting away with foreign envoys, Hwang Hyunjin considered himself rather lucky for a multitude of reasons.

All the princes and the lords sitting around the table, enjoying the tea and pastries, had everything one could want in the world. Endless fountains of wealth, resources, luxury. Whatever they desired, they only needed to snap their fingers, and someone would provide. It was the type of life many in his kingdom could only dream about in their wildest fantasies.

But, underneath the splendor, Hyunjin could see it as bright as day. Beneath the material luxury was discontentment, unease, unhappiness. Many of them were married to people that they did not love, were tied to their own wealth as it was the only sense of stability in their lives. And above all, Hyunjin could sense their loneliness, the invisible--yet deadly--disease that latched onto the heart and knawed at it until it was nothing but a shriveled remain. It was a poison that had no identifiable cure, and its affects only magnified as time went on.

Hyunjin could see it all because, once upon a time, he was just like them. Sitting on the throne, he was merely staring at reflections of his past self, a shell of a boy that was forced into a position of power too soon with too few people he could trust. He saw himself in the young lord that was visiting from across the sea, his eyes alight with ambition and a thirst to prove himself. He saw himself in the crown prince of the neighboring kingdom, the mistrust laced in every sip he took of his tea. He was like that once: scared, angry, betrayed, and alone.

But with a strange twist of fate, his life changed for the better. He found people he could trust. He met the love of his life. Unbelievably, he even married her, slowly earning her respect and eventually, her heart. And now, Hwang Hyunjin was no longer the boy with a crown too heavy and a life too lonely. He had people he cared about deeply, he had people he wanted to protect with his whole being. Especially…

“Papa! Papa!”

Hyunjin’s ears perked up as the large, ornate wooden doors of the hall creaked open ever so slightly, and a pitter patter of frantic footsteps bounded into the throne room. Almost immediately, he felt a smile grace his face, all the tension draining out of his posture as he gazed at the little girl, his darling daughter. 

Even the most stone-hearted envoys and esteemed guests could not hide their smiles as the girl ran excitedly towards her father, “Papa!” She giggled again, clumsily climbing up the steps to the throne.

Hyunjin’s heart fluttered with pride as he watched his daughter clamber up the marble steps, and for a split second, the image of her sitting on the throne as the next queen flashed across his mind. One baby step at a time, he reminded himself, and he stood up, easily picking up the girl as she gripped onto his sleeves.

“Naeun,” he brushed the baby hairs out of her face and smiled at her rosy cheeks. Time and time again, he was reminded of how much his daughter had begun to resemble the both of you. She had his doe eyes, but her smile, that was all you. 

The meeting became completely irrelevant to Hyunjin as he lavished all of his attention on her, “What are you doing here?”

Naeun, who was breathing heavily from all the running she had done, huffed and pouted rather sternly, “Mama said that if you stay in the office all night again, mama will dwag you back to the bedwoom.” 

Hyunjin fought the urge to laugh, utterly charmed by Naeun’s petulant words. How hard had she prepared to relay such a fiery message? He climbed up the remaining steps with the girl in his arms and sat back down comfortably on the throne, gently placing her on his lap.

“Papa is very sorry,” he said solemnly, bringing her little hand to his lips so he could kiss the back of it, making her giggle and squirm, “Did your mama send you here to tell me that?”

“Nope! But mama miss you!” Naeun replied brightly, and by this point, none of the guests were able to hide their endeared smiles and chuckles. Hyunjin felt a strange rush of both protectiveness and pride as he observed how easily Naeun had stolen the spotlight in the room with her joy and her innocence. It must be a father instinct that he was beginning to develop.

“Ah, mama misses me?” Hyunjin didn’t even know his heart was capable of containing such unbridled happiness and love as he smiled at his daughter. Naeun nodded firmly, and Hyunjin rubbed her back as he smoothed down her pretty princess dress, making sure she was comfortable before addressing the guests.

“My apologies for the interruption,” he said with perfect politeness, ever the ideal host. As expected, not many people were even the slightest bit annoyed by the disturbance, and they all waved off his apology, continuing the casual conversations about trade, finances, and commerce.

When it was all over, and Hyunjin was finally able to adjourn with all meetings and any other activities he’d scheduled to entertain his foreign guests, he eagerly walked down the hallways to the royal chambers, with Naeun safely nestled in his arms.

“Papa?”

“Yes, my little one?” He replied, letting her rest her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s fin..finan…” Naeun’s face scrunched up with effort as she tried to put the word back together from her memory. 

Hyunjin smiled fondly; he’d noticed her eagerly listening during the meeting, trying to soak in all the new knowledge that was coming her way. Naeun was good at de-escalating tensions, especially when she did her usual thing of barging into meetings without a care in the world, but Hyunjin also liked to let her stay in meetings because the little toddler seemed genuinely interested. She never seemed like she wanted to be anywhere else, only blinking from person to person with her large doe eyes. 

“Finance?” He supplied helpfully, and Naeun nodded into his shoulder, “It’s grown up stuff.”

“I like grown up stuff,” Naeun said with all the seriousness that a three year old could muster.

Hyunjin laughed, “I know you do, petal,” he hummed, thinking of a good way to explain the concept, “You know when you like to play house with your dolls and Uncle Changbin?”

Naeun immediately brightened at that. She loved playing house with Uncle Changbin! He was always a bit grumpy, a bit reluctant, but they always had a great tea party whenever her mama and papa were busy. 

“Mhm!”

“And you always like to trade certain dolls for the dolls that Changbin brings?” Hyunjin asked. Once again, he felt enormous gratitude to his personal commander, Seo Changbin, for going beyond the responsibilities of duty to take care of Naeun. As much as you and Hyunjin tried however you could to make time for her, with royal duties, parties, meetings, and work, it was just impossible to spend large amounts of time with your lovely daughter.

“Mhm! Uncle Changbin brings pwetty dolls!” Naeun nodded.

Hyunjin felt the smile grow on his face as he held her in his arms. He’d been smiling more often ever since Naeun was born, “Exactly. And you always have to give a few of your old ones to get the new, right? Or choose a few toys to give to Uncle Changbin so he can donate them to the capitol orphanages?”

Naeun only nodded curiously. 

“That, in a way, is finance. Of course, it’s a little more boring than trading dolls, though,” Hyunjin tickled her tummy with his finger, distracting her as she wiggled and squealed. Truth be told, Hyunjin didn’t want Naeun to grow up so quickly, even if that was all she wanted to do. Hyunjin didn’t remember anything from his childhood except textbooks, lectures, and a crushing pressure from his father and mother to live up to their expectations. He would never wish that upon his daughter.

After one more turn around the corner, they finally arrived at the Royal Chambers, with Changbin and Felix standing guard on both sides of the entrance. 

“Hi, Uncle Changbin! Hi, Uncle Lixie!” Despite their attempts to teach Naeun royal protocol about how to address the Kingsguard, she had little regard for it, opting to wave from the safety of her father’s arms. 

Changbin’s normally passive, almost grumpy expression melted ever so slightly as he waved back at her.  Despite his constant statements about not wanting to marry and not wanting to start a family, having Naeun made Hyunjin realize that his commander was surprisingly good with children. But if anyone so much as mentioned it, Changbin would deny any evidence of such allegations. Felix, on the other hand, was absolutely besotted with the little girl and made no attempts to hide it.

“Hi, little princess!” He smiled, opening the doors to the most private section of the palace. Hyunjin chuckled, nodding respectfully to both men before walking in. 

“Now, where’s your mama?” Hyunjin murmured. Of course, you were supposed to be in the bedroom, but Hyunjin knew you better than that. 

Naeun giggled, as if she knew you were breaking some sort of rule, and pointed to the study, “There!” 

“Thank you, petal,” Hyunjin booped her nose fondly before walking into the study, creaking the door open slowly as not to startle you. 

Every time his eyes fell to you, he would be swept with a newfound love that was stronger and more powerful than the time before. Even though your back was turned slightly away, and he could only see the slight curve of your lips and the profile of you from the side, Hyunjin knew without a doubt that you were the most beautiful woman in the world. 

You didn’t seem to notice your family walking in, lost in thought as you stared at the window, a piece of parchment in your hand. Hyunjin smiled, knowing how concentrated you can get when it came to state affairs. He put a finger to his lips, indicating to his daughter to be quiet. Naeun covered her mouth with her little hands, nodding as he very gently placed her on the fluffy carpet so she could play with the toys on the ground.

“I believe the doctor’s orders were for you to stay in bed?” Hyunjin murmured softly as he gently draped a woolen shawl over your shoulders, his arms snaking around you from behind. Maybe you did know he was around, since you didn't seem startled by his presence and only smiled as his hands rested on your tummy.

“We have guests in our palace. How can I stay in bed when there’s so much to do?” You replied, leaning into his arms and physically relaxing against him.

“You can just leave the work to me,” Hyunjin pouted a little, feeling guilty that he wasn’t able to handle the entire burden of royal duties. He couldn’t when you were pregnant with Naeun, and he couldn’t now. His hands rubbed your tummy through the silk nightgown as he gently placed his chin on your shoulder, murmuring, “It’s not good for the baby…”

Every time Hyunjin touched your tummy, it made you airy with disbelief and awe at how fortunate you were to have him. When you were a princess, long long ago, you’d never expected yourself to look forward to starting a family. But with Hyunjin, Naeun brought so much joy in your lives that neither of you could help but want another, and your prayers were answered when you became pregnant again around the time Naeun turned three. 

Part of why you were willing was because it awed you every time you saw how much Hyunjin cared. You knew how kings were, always drowning in their work, their duty, which always led them to crave independence, and then occasionally, turning to other women than their lawful wife. You knew that was the norm. Care, much less love, was something that royal women would be lucky to have.

Yet, Hyunjin gave it to you in the spades. Hyunjin cared, Hyunjin loved so much. You saw it every time he looked at you, you saw it every time he would gingerly place the crown upon your head before formal gatherings. You saw it every time he’d keep you close at parties, made sure everyone knew how much he valued you and your opinion. You saw it every time he looked at Naeun, his eyes sparkling with childlike wonder that could only be reflected in your daughter’s own eyes.

And now, with the two of you expecting another child, you saw it in his fretting, his worrying, his constant attempts to keep you safe and healthy, even if he was a little overbearing.

“The doctor never said a little bit of work would harm the baby,” you pointed out, tilting your head back to look into his eyes as you cupped his cheek, “I’m checking myself, I promise.”

“I’m sure you are,” Hyunjin chuckled, and he could no longer stop himself, his lips pressing against  yours in a gentle kiss as he hugged you. You only hummed happily against his lips, enjoying the moment when you were suddenly interrupted.

“Yuckie!” Naeun squeaked out, causing both of you to pull away with a laugh. The princess was sitting on the ground with a soft plushie in her arms as she looked at her parents with disgust.

You burst into giggles, pulling away from Hyunjin to walk over to her, “Yuckie? It’s yuckie that your parents are in love?” You asked teasingly, pinching her cheek. Naeun giggled, trying to run away as Hyunjin suddenly lifted her up from behind, placing her in his lap.

“Kisses are yuckie!” She squealed, making both of you laugh as Hyunjin tickled her tummy.

Hyunjin smiled, chuckling, “Don’t ever let me catch you kissing someone else,” he warned. In all honesty, the idea of his precious daughter falling in love made his blood boil unreasonably. Especially in the royal realm, it was so hard to determine which ones were good and which ones were only hiding behind the mask of benevolence. Just the thought of Naeun falling in love, Naeun getting her heart broken by some good for nothing prince…

“My love,” Hyunjin’s eyes widened as he felt a gentle hand on his arm. You smiled fondly, almost as you already knew exactly what he was thinking, as you always did, “Baby steps, alright? She’s not at that age yet.”

“Baby steps!” Naeun chorused, although oblivious to the conversation at hand. 

Hyunjin felt himself relax, and he engulfed his daughter in a big hug, letting her snuggle into his chest, “Yes, baby steps,” he murmured as he left a kiss in her hair.

.

“What do you mean, they won’t allow it?” You asked angrily, following Hyunjin into his study as he ran a frantic hand through his hair.

Hyunjin sank into his chair, frustration clear in his face as he glanced up at you, “The letter from the council came back. Apparently, there were some strong voices of protest, and eventually they decided to rule against it. They won’t accept Naeun as the heir.”

“That’s ridiculous!” You snapped, feeling steam practically radiating from your ears, “She’s the eldest child, our first born! They've had three years to observe her, and she's performed well in all subjects. She’s practically a genius!" 

You whirled around, tightening the shawl around your frame as you made up your mind to go to the council yourself when Hyunjin rushed over, intercepting you as he gently grabbed your arms, “Y/N, my darling,” you shook your head, not in the mood for his cajoling and gentle attention.

“I’m going to talk to them. They were relenting a couple months ago! I don’t see why--”

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Hyunjin’s voice was suddenly stern, his hands running up and down your back to soothe you, “Calm down, love. Please. Think of the baby.”

You froze, the fight beginning to drain out of you as you tried to take deep breaths. Hyunjin’s hand trailed to your wrist, subtly taking note of your pulse to ensure that you were still alright. 

“I know you’re angry. So am I,” Hyunjin spoke, stepping closer to you and cupping your face in his gentle hands. Your eyes closed at his touch, feeling his warm embrace as his comforting presence, “But we need to deal with this slowly. There are foreign envoys still here, remember? We can’t go barging around the palace like we normally do, not until they leave.”

You huffed, knowing that Hyunjin was right, but still feeling churlishly angry at the news, “So we just wait?”

“We’ll discuss it once more when the council meeting is held again,” Hyunjin suggested, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, “I’m sure they’ll cave. Naeun is a perfect contender, the perfect candidate for the next heir. She’s just not what they’re used to.”

“And what are they used to? A son?” You said mockingly, your anger fueled by the ridiculous laws that were still in place. Your kingdom had long since done away with such petty things as male only rules, but it seemed like Hyunjin's kingdom was a little more traditional. 

“Yes, and you know how stubborn they are about it” Hyunjin murmured, palming your stomach, “They’re waiting for this little one.”

“They don’t even know if it’s going to be a boy,” you scoffed, but you could feel yourself relaxing in Hyunjin’s arms. The two of you were so alike and yet so different. Hyunjin was the cooling water to your raging firestorm. And you were the spark that light his ice cold heart alight with love for the first time all those years ago.

Hyunjin hummed at your comment, gently nuzzling his nose against your cheek, “I think it will be. Otherwise, I'd be awfully outnumbered in this family,” he said softly, kissing your cheek as he continued, “But no matter. I still want my precious Naeun to be the crown princess. The council just has stick up their ass.”

“Hyunjin!” You slapped his arm, pulling away to walk towards his study, sitting in the chair as you felt the baby kick once again.

The king only laughed at your glare, immediately rushing to your side as he took your hand, “The baby’s bothering you again, huh?” He asked, his eyes filled with wonder as he stared at your tummy. It was a silent, yet rather apparent question to you, asking whether he had permission to touch. It was almost adorable how childishly excited Hyunjin would get at the thought of his own children.

You gently placed his hand over the fabric of your dress, right over where you’d felt a slight kick just before, “It’s not a bother,” you said gently, “How can it be a bother when it reassures me that our child is safe and healthy?”

Hyunjin’s expression was nothing short of entranced as he felt a push against the palm of his hand, “I love you,” he murmured as he glanced at you, and he leaned forward to press his cheek against your tummy, to which you only smiled fondly and ran a hand through his hair.

“I love them, too,” he spoke to your stomach, as he had no doubt that your unborn child would hear it and know just how much their father cared.

The two of you stayed in that position, basking in the monetary relaxation for a moment longer, your hands gently running through his hair as he rested his head on your lap. It was definitely not a position that either of you would want to be caught in, but Hyunjin found himself rather fond of it, being able to let go of his responsibilities and rely on you for comfort without being anxious. 

You sat for a moment longer before a particular piece of parchment on Hyunjin's desk caught your eye, and you quickly reached for it as your husband continued to rest comfortably on your lap.

“There’s a party tomorrow night?” You asked, scanning the contents over as your free hand gently carded through his hair.

“Mhm, the envoys are leaving the morning after, so it has to be grand,” Hyunjin mumbled lazily in return, his eyes shut from mild exhaustion.

You hummed, putting the parchment down as you said softly, “If it’s the final dinner, shouldn’t I be there? I haven’t seen any of our guests except on the first day. It would be impolite if I missed the last event, too.”

“No,” Hyunjin’s grip tightened imperceptibly as he gently held your waist, lifting his head up to meet your eyes, “They understand your situation. It’s only natural that you haven’t been at all the events,” he said firmly, his hand absently moving towards your stomach.

“It’s still impolite. I should probably go,” you said softly, resting your hand over his, “We don’t want our guests to leave with a bad taste in their mouth.” 

Hyunjin looked uncertain, his eyes pleading with you as he pressed his lips to your knuckles, “If something happens…”

“Nothing will happen, my darling,” you cooed, trying to reassure your love as you sensed his fear. Hyunjin, underneath his cold words and powerful gaze, was just as human as any other man.

“It’s just a party. I won’t even dance, alright?” You continued with a cajoling smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek bone, “I just have to be there, Hyunjin. It’s my duty.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes fluttered shut as he melted against your touch, leaning his cheek into your hand and sighing softly, “I know I can’t change your mind,” he said, “You’re just stubborn like that, and I love it more than you know. But it scares me so much.” 

“It scares you?” You repeated his words, waiting patiently for him to elaborate. 

The king nodded, looking so vulnerable in your arms that you were afraid he’d break, “What if something happens? What if, one day, you overestimate yourself and you lose the baby? Or worse,” Hyunjin kissed your palm, holding your wrist in his hand as he gazed upon you with more pain in his eyes than you’ve ever seen.

“What if I lose you, too?”

Your heart shattered at the fear and the sheer amount of unconditional love that glistened in his eyes whenever they met yours, “Oh, Hyunjin,” you sighed, leaning forward to be closer to him, “It won't come to that.”

But Hyunjin couldn't hear reason at this point, frightening himself as he held your hand, “I can't rule this kingdom without you, without your love. You're the first happiness I've ever had in this lifetime.” 

“Hyunjin, you can and you have,” you argued, reaching to lace your fingers with his, “You were ruling wonderfully before we met.”

“It's not the same, darling, and you know it,” Hyunjin answered, kissing the pulse point of your wrist daintily, “You made me a better person and a better king.”

You couldn't help but smile adoringly, reaching your other hand to run your fingers through his soft hair, “I'm glad. You made my life happier than I ever dreamed it could be.”

Hyunjin sighed, melting into your touch. As always, he felt weightless in your arms, free of burden and responsibility. He didn't have to think of anything but you and him.

But alas, there was still a problem at hand. 

“Do you really want to attend the party?” He asked softly into the fabric of your dress, one of the comfortable ones he'd ordered to be specially made for you when the two of you discovered that you were expecting a second time.

“I do, Hyunjin. I think it's best that I take my place beside you, at least once before they leave. It'll quell any rumors about us and about my supposed ill health,” you explained your reasoning, understanding Hyunjin’s doubts but still feeling strongly about going all the same.

Hyunjin’s eyes opened slowly and he nodded in resignation as he stood up, “Alright. I won't stop you. But, my love, at least let me assign Changbin and Felix to you as your guards for the night.”

“Both of them?” You asked, standing up slowly to maintain your balance. Hyunjin didn't leave your side for a moment, holding your arm in case you fell, “Isn't that a bit much?” 

“It would make me less anxious to know you're well guarded,” Hyunjin pleaded with you, fixing the shawl around your shoulders as the two of you walked out of the study. It was already quite late in the evening, with Naeun having been sent to bed long before. 

Your fingers intertwined naturally, and the two of you headed to your chambers, ready for a long night's rest, “Alright, assign both of them to me,” you relented, “I still think it’s a bit overkill.”

“You’d be walking around the town without a single guard if we went with what you thought was overkill,” Hyunjin chuckled, beginning to shed his uniform.

“Not true,” you protested weakly as you climbed into bed, already in your nightgown.

Hyunjin joined you soon after, engulfing you in his arms and his comforting scent as you let out a sigh of contentment, burrowing in his embrace, “Let’s get some rest, alright?” You said, sleepiness laced in your voice as you hummed softly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, my darling,” Hyunjin murmured his response without a moment of hesitation, as if he’d been waiting all his life to tell you, “so much.”

.

Parties were hectic enough already, even more so when you had a hyperactive toddler to manage on top of the plethora of things that could already go wrong, from the banquet food to the entertainment. 

"Weeee!" Naeun squealed, running around the bedroom like a madman and trying to escape changing into her party dress. 

Before she could slip away, you managed to snag an arm around her waist, lifting her into your arms with a grunt, “Where do you think you're going, little princess?”

Naeun pouted, whining as she wiggled in your grasp, “Want to go play! Want to find papa!” She said with a huff. 

“Papa is busy right now,” you said patiently as you gently plopped her on the bed, trying to help her out of her nightgown while Naeun fussed, obviously not wanting to do as she was told.

“But I want to play with papa!” She protested as she eventually lifted her arms, letting you help her change. 

You sighed as you helped her into the beautiful golden dress, the fabric laced with ruffles and sparkling thread that was fit for any little princess.

“Papa is a little busy, alright?” You spoke gently, trying to make your lecture sound less like a scolding and more of an explanation, “There have been guests in Mama and Papa's home for the last few days, and Papa has been busy taking care of them.”

“B-but...what about me?” Naeun’s lower lip quivered dramatically, and you fought the urge to smile at how utterly adorable she was, “Papa take care of me!”

“You don't think Papa takes care of you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow, “Papa spends all his free time with you, Naeunie. Papa takes caring for you very, very seriously.”

Naeun pouted still, her lip jutting out petulantly, but she let her head fall. Even for a three year old, the little girl was awfully perceptive, and knew when she'd lost an argument. And in her heart of hearts, she knew that her parents really did move heaven and earth to make her their top priority.

“Papa no stop taking care of me?” She asked softly as you buttoned the pearl clasp around her collar.

“No, my little one,” you answered with a gentle smile as you fixed her hair, “Papa and Mama will always take care of you. When this is all over, how about we stay a week at the summer residence? Just you, papa and me, and we'll have all the time in the world to play with you.”

Naeun gasped, bouncing on the bed, “Weally? Just us?”

“If you want, you can drag your Uncle Changbin to come with us, too,” you said slyly as you booped her nose, but instead of scrunching her face playfully as she always did, Naeun suddenly looked ashamed, head tilted downward as if she’d done something naughty and then felt guilty about it after the fact.

You were immediately concerned, “Little one?” You prodded, gently trying to tilt her chin up so she’d look at you, “Little one, what’s happened? You can tell Mama anything.”

Naeun hiccuped slightly, and your heart ached as you realized that she was on the verge of tears, “Mama, ‘m sorry,” she mumbled softly, eyes glittering with unshed tears and you quickly sat on the bed, pulling her into your lap.

“Why are you sorry, Naeunie?” You asked, trying not to sound frantic, worried, or anything that might frighten her more.

“Papa said Mama is tired, and that I shouldn’t bother Mama,” Naeun explained, large droplets beginning to roll down her rosy cheeks as she wailed, “But I’ve been bad bad! I make Mama worry!”

You tried to stifle your incredulous laughter as your daughter clung onto you, wailing dramatically as if the world was about to end. So that was what got her so worked up all of a sudden.

“Silly little thing,” you teased, cradling her in your arms as best you could with the bump of your stomach getting in the way. Still, you nuzzled your nose against her cheek, wiping her tears, “It’s mama’s job to worry. You’re a perfectly good girl, Naeunie. Mama and Papa are so lucky to have a precious girl like you.”

Naeun’s shoulders slowly began to shake as she rubbed her eyes, “Like me?” She repeated, a tinge of innocent hope and adoration laced in her voice that always raised your protective instincts, the instinct to shield her from any harm that this world could throw at her.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as you spoke softly, “Just like you. Mama and Papa love you to the moon and back.” 

“And I love Mama and Papa, too! So so muchie!” Naeun parroted back happily, smiling with all the life and brightness that both you and Hyunjin lacked in your own childhoods. Maybe that was why the two of you were so determined to be there for Naeun in every way possible, to make sure that she knew she was so very loved. Because neither of you received that type of acceptance when you were children.

“Good girl,” you said, kissing her forehead once more before smoothing down her dress, “Are you ready to go?”

“Mm!” She nodded, clambering off the bed and standing tall, “Will Papa be at party, too?”

“Your papa is already there,” you chuckled to yourself, taking your daughter’s little hand and heading out of the bedroom.

Outside, both Felix and Changbin were waiting for you, dressed impeccably for the formal occasion. In normal circumstances, it would only be one of them waiting for you while the other guarded Hyunjin, but the king had not allowed any exceptions. Both of the strongest in the Kingsguard must be by your side for the day.

“Sorry for the wait,” you said to both of them as Naeun slipped away from you, skipping over to her two uncles, going especially for one in particular.

“Uncle Changbin, Uncle Changbin!” The man grunted as he caught her in his arms, shifting so she was eye level with him, her bright smile contrasting with his typical frown.

Felix walked with you as Changbin and Naeun entered their own little world, with the young toddler prattling his ears off and the commander listening with surprising attentiveness, “She plays favorites,” Felix complained playfully, clutching a hand to his heart as he stayed by your side.

“She definitely does,” you agreed with a fond smile, keeping an eye on your daughter as you walked down the halls, a hand resting on your tummy as you glanced at the man beside you, “Hyunjin is at the party, right? How is he doing?”

“When will the two of you ever not worry about one another?” Felix laughed, shaking his head, “Hyunjin caught me on the way up to your bedroom, asking about you as well.”

You shrugged, the sound and clamor of crowds and partying beginning to be apparent as you neared the ballroom, “That’s just married life, Felix. Trying to put the other person before yourself,” you glanced at him, the gaze in your eyes shifting into something more mischievous as you opened your mouth, “And maybe, you--”

“Nope! Not happening!” Felix interrupted you cheerfully, “You and His Majesty have just been on my ass about it, and it’s not happening!”

“Oh, but Lixie,” you laughed with him, taking his arm as you walked down the marble steps, “it’s really not all that bad!”

Felix’s gaze was soft as he gently patted your hand. He’d been assigned to the Kingsguard right around the time you were crowned Queen, and there was a sort of camaraderie that formed between the two of you from trying to navigate the ups and downs of palace life. He was a good confidante, and you very much valued his happiness.

“I’m happy here,” he said gently, looking into your eyes with his bright and genuine ones, “I’m happy looking after people that I care about. And for now, I don’t ever want to lose that.” 

You sighed, a smile gracing your face as you shook your head, “Alright. But if you ever change your mind…”

“You and His Majesty would be the first to know,” Felix promised.

The doors swung open, and the crowd quickly stood at attention as you entered the ballroom. Your gaze hardened ever so slightly, and your posture shifted, taking the persona of the respected queen that you were to the eyes of your people. Before you were a mother, or a wife, you were a symbol, an anchor of virtue.

Even Naeun was on her best behavior as she walked down with Changbin, holding his little pinky as she climbed down the steps. She seemed to sense her own importance, and did her very best not to mess up, making you break character for a moment as you smiled.

Your eyes caught sight of your husband standing near the throne, and his eyes twinkled with adoration when your gazes met. He put down his glass of champagne, quickly gliding through the room to receive you.

“God, he’s whipped for you, Your Majesty,” Felix muttered under his breath, “Does the honeymoon period never end--ow!” A discrete finger jab to the side was enough to shut him up.

Hyunjin’s smile was small and hidden, reserved just for your eyes as you made it to the bottom step, “Don’t you look beautiful, my Queen,” he murmured, chastely kissing the back of your hand before pecking your lips.

“Jinnie, not here,” you scolded lightly, letting him take your hand as Naeun rushed over, the crowd cooing with delight. Naeun had only been present in a handful of engagements before this particular party, and the people were still fully immersed in baby fever, entranced by the little girl.

“Papa!” She jumped at him, your husband bending down and catching her easily.

“Oh, my little petal!” His smile was bright as he held her securely, spinning her around, “Ready for dinner?”

“Mhm!” Naeun nodded, but not before placing a big kiss on her father’s cheek, “Miss you!”

You couldn’t help but giggle, watching as the princess’s actions completely melted the crowed. She was definitely a natural. You remembered what you were like as a three year-old, scared, terrified, and always trying to hide behind your mother’s skirt even as she forced you to be independent. 

Naeun didn’t need that push, and you were grateful.

Hyunjin carried Naeun in one arm and escorted you with the other. Your eyes scanned the room, automatically taking note of certain esteemed guests and nobles. In the edge of the room, you noticed a few council members sitting together at a table, refusing to stand at attention for your entrance. 

"Is everything ready?" You asked as you carefully sat down beside Hyunjin, "The dinner, the entertainment-" 

“It’s all done,” Hyunjin smiled, pecking your lips before he placed Naeun in her chair beside his golden one, making sure she was sitting still, “Nothing to worry about.”

You smiled, grateful that your husband was so accommodating and willing to handle so much of the work while you needed your rest. Gesturing to one of the maids, you waved your hand, requesting her to start ushering the guests to their seats as food was about to be served.

As you continued to observe the room, making sure everything was running smoothly, you felt a gentle hand take yours, rubbing it soothingly.

“I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you,” Hyunjin murmured into your ear, making you blush slightly. Even after all these years, his forwardness always flustered you, made you feel like a giddy young princess rather than an experienced queen.

“Hyunjin, come on...not here,” you whispered back, letting his hand glide to your stomach, hidden from everyone’s view by the table in front of you. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Hyunjin protested in a playful tone, gently patting your tummy before pulling away and gaining back some of his kingly aura right as the first dishes were served.

The banquet went without much of a hitch, to your relief. The atmosphere was overall genial and it didn’t seem like any of your guests had malicious intentions. Hyunjin, of course, grew a little ruffled when one of the young boys from the envoy’s family, no older than five, asked to dance with Naeun, but you argued that it was rather endearing to see the children stumble around the dance floor.

“Mama, that was really fun!” Naeun reported happily when she was sitting back in her seat, her hair slightly messy from twirling so much, “Want to do it again!”

“Never, not while I’m still alive,” Hyunjin muttered, rubbing his eyes halfheartedly as the memory of his precious little girl dancing with a boy replayed in his head. 

You laughed at the two of them, reaching over to fix Naeun’s hairdo so she didn’t look like an absolute mess for the rest of the evening, “I think your father wouldn’t be very happy with that,” you said teasingly, kissing her forehead just as the crown prince approached your table with a glass of fine wine in his hand.

“Your Majesties,” he spoke respectfully, exuding the perfect mixture of gracefulness and charisma as he bowed, “If I could do the honor of making a toast for the occasion?”

Of course, the request was posed as a question, merely to play to the ego and the pride of the hosts, but a toast was usually not something you could refuse. Doing so meant bad blood, tensions, potential rifts in foreign relations. Besides, the prince didn’t look malicious; you normally had a good sense of intuition about people, and the man standing before you and Hyunjin didn’t raise any red flags.

Hyunjin didn’t seem to sense anything either, and with a courteous smile, he waved his hand in agreement, “The trade deals we’ve made this time around are definitely a reason for celebration,” he said, “Although, I’ll have to drink on behalf of the Queen as well.”

The prince smiled at that, gesturing to one of his servants as they walked towards the table, bringing two gold encrusted wine glasses towards you, “We would never want to leave Her Majesty out. In consideration of her pregnancy, I’ve brought a specialty drink created from a fruit that is grown only in our country. It is harmless to the body, and said to bring good health and longevity to expecting mothers.”

Gasps and noises of approval filled the air as you tilted your head inquisitively, looking at the wine glass being presented to you. You could feel Hyunjin’s hesitancy, and you studied the prince’s expression carefully, but there really didn’t seem to be anything wrong. There wasn’t any point in making a big fuss over nothing.

Delicately, your fingers wrapped around the glass, picking it up and looking at the orange liquid. Hyunjin watched you carefully before doing the same with his glass, which held red wine like everyone else.

The prince smiled, relief obvious in his posture as he held up his own glass. He obviously had worried that you might reject the gift, thinking that it overstepped boundaries. 

“May our kingdoms stay allies through peace and through strife. To friendship!”

The crowd chorused the sentiment as you merely lifted the glass to your mouth, the liquid just about to touch your lips when you froze.

That scent. You remembered it when your physician had warned you against certain plants that were harmful to your body. As the queen of two nations, you were an obvious target, and there was never any telling with when someone with a cruel heart could slip a poison into your food or water. The scent was almost imperceptible, but you knew it was there.

Someone was trying to poison you, and they chose the most opportune time to do so.

Watching as the prince and your husband both downed their glasses, your brain was working a mile a minute, scrambling for a way out. You could you say outright that there was poison in the glass. That would put both your own staff and your guests in a terrible position. You didn’t have any proof that it was actually the prince who was trying to harm you, and making those accusations would all but tear the alliance apart. 

Your heart must’ve been pounding so loudly that the people around you could hear. You kept your face placidly calm as you decided on your course of action, and very subtly tapped your finger against the wine glass three times, a signal that Changbin had taught you in order to alert the Kingsguard of danger.

Both Changbin and Felix saw your movement, and so did Hyunjin out of the corner of his eye. He turned, his expression slowly morphing into shocked anger, something you had not wanted to happen. Thinking quickly, you pretended to choke, coughing up a storm as you managed to put the glass down.

Felix walked forward and was beside you in an instant, catching on to your actions. He handed you a handkerchief, gently patting your back as Changbin was also by your side, a concerned expression crossing his face as he stood guard.

“Are you alright, Your Majesty?” Felix asked, keeping the attention on you as he discreetly slid the glass to the side, letting Changbin collect it and take it away, ensuring that it was as far away from you as possible.

“Y-yes,” you smiled shakily, pressing the handkerchief against your lips, “Just got startled when the baby kicked.”

The people around you, Hyunjin and Felix, instantly saw through your lie, but knew better than to question your words when everyone’s eyes were on you. You finally glanced at your husband, your anxiety spiking when you saw the way he looked at you, eyes filled with uncontrollable fury. 

Someone had really tried to hurt you, really tried to take his happiness right out from his grasp.

You placed a hand on his, and gave it a warning squeeze, “I’m alright, love, there’s no need to fret,” you cooed, putting on a show of calming him down so that his anger might be taken as anxiety instead.

Hyunjin caught onto your cues, and did his best to control the murderous emotions threatening to bubble out of his chest. Luckily enough, there was another distraction that waddled over, effectively putting the whole situation at rest.

“Mama! Are you alright?” Naeun ran over, her expression overly worried as she stood beside you, her little hands grabbing blindly for you and wanting to be held. As she was watching her Uncle Changbin, she’d panicked when he did, automatically thinking that something bad had happened to her mother.

“Oh, my little one, nothing happened. See?” You comforted her, bringing her hands to your cheeks as you smiled, “Mama is fine.”

“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty!” The prince stammered out as you gently placed Naeun in your lap, giving into her cries to be close to you, “I did not mean to cause you harm. Not in the slightest.”

“And you did not,” you spoke gracefully, a hand lightly squeezing your husband’s leg under the table as you took control of the conversation, sensing that the man was no longer thinking rationally. Hyunjin already suspected the prince as the main culprit, and any words that would leave his mouth from here on would be far from pleasant.

You smiled serenely, looking at the prince, “There was no harm done. Pregnancies are always unpredictable.”

The prince nodded, his expression still anxious as he excused himself and took his seat back with his family. Looking at his frazzled expression, the idea that the person who was looking to poison you was less likely to be him.

“Hyunjin, snap that glare off your face. People are beginning to notice,” you hissed in his ear as people began to dance and mingle now that the dinner part of the banquet was done. Naeun was still in your arms, having fallen asleep. It was far past her normal bed time, after all.

But Hyunjin’s fury was just barely contained, “How can I? Someone tried to hurt you, Y/N. Someone tried to do so right before my very eyes, right under the noses of our Kingsguard,” he spoke under his breath, the cold glint in his eyes growing stronger with every moment. The Hwang Hyunjin of old, the ruthless king that ruled without mercy, was returning, and you needed to stop him quickly.

“Making a ruckus will not serve us any good,” you said softly, continuing to bounce Naeun lightly on your lap.

“He needs to know what happens if he hurts a member of the royal family,” Hyunjin’s glare shifted to the prince, who was dancing with his wife amongst the crowd.

“It isn’t him, Hyunjin,” you took his hand, lacing your fingers together, “I’m sure it isn’t.”

“Then who?” He rounded on you, eyes filled with pain and anger as he tried to hide it from nosy onlookers, leaning closer to press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Who would dare hurt the most precious person in my life?”

“I don’t know, Hyunjin. But now isn’t the time to play detective. Let’s get through this party first, alright?” You asked soothingly just as Naeun shifted in your arms, mumbling.

“Papa…”

Hyunjin faltered at that weak cry, and you smiled in relief as you carefully handed Naeun to her father. The king held her in his lap, using her as his anchor. 

"Oh, my little petal," he sighed, letting the girl slump into his chest as she slept soundly, unaware of the turmoil raging through her father's heart. Hyunjin held her close, kissing her hair, and you were able to observe the party absently, letting yourself calm down after a near experience with death.

Who could've done it? The very idea of lacing the queen's drink with poison, and quite possibly starting a war in the process, would scare almost anyone away. It had to be someone with much more to gain from the incident, someone that feels sure enough of their position that they see the act through knowing it could never be traced back to them. 

You sat in relative silence for the rest of the evening, choosing to observe rather than participate as the guests enjoyed the many festivities you'd planned for the evening. One particular man, sitting at the table to your right, who looked suspiciously upset for such a joyous occasion, caught your eye. 

His motives certainly aligned, and he was of high enough status that he probably didn't even have to personally orchestrate any of it to happen. 

Could it be...? There was only one way to quell your suspicions. 

. 

The party ended uneventfully, and soon, many of the guests began to trickle out of the palace gates, ready to retire for the night. One man opted to take a less crowded route back to his estate, cutting through the palace passageways instead of braving the cold and the people. After all, he was no longer in a sociable mood after the events of the night. 

He should've  known it wasn't going to be so easy. The queen was not only royalty, she was an experienced general as well. It shouldn't have been such a surprise that she sniffed out the little surprise so easily. 

Still, even if it was to be expected, it was still a disappointment. If only she wasn't around, things would be so much simpler. He would've been able to further secure his position, maybe even take control of the military. Oh, the possibilities for him were endless if only- 

"General Lee Minho. It's quite late for you to still be here in my palace." 

If only you weren't around to stop him. 

Maintaining his composure, Minto turned around, giving you a perfect bow, "Your Majesty, I didn't mean to impose. I was merely trying to get home-" 

"Why did you do it?" 

Never one to beat around the bush, were you? 

Minho gave you a saccharine smile, his heart still relatively at ease. You had no proof. There was nothing that could connect the act to him. 

"Your Majesty, I don't believe I understand." 

It must've been the wrong thing to say. Your eyebrow raised inquisitively, and you took a step forward, your eyes cold and unwavering. You must've learned a thing or two from your besotted husband.  

"You're a cunning man, General. Our kingdoms profit off your intellect and your strategy," you said, looking straight into his own unflinching gaze.

"In fact, your cunning is the only reason you are still alive." 

The air seemed to grow thinner in an instant, and the pleasantries all but faded from Minho’s expression. You weren't inquiring, you knew it was him. This encounter was merely icing on the cake for you. The general was suddenly aware that the halls were completely empty save for the two of you, and there was not a sound to be heard. Not the sounds of a servant fetching water, or a maid finishing up her errands. Nothing.

Minho pursed his lips, giving you an unreadable gaze, “I wouldn't advise threatening me in your condition,” he commented, eyes falling deliberately to the swell of your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile in amusement at his thinly veiled threat, “I assure you, General, I am perfectly safe.”

“Oh?” Minho raised an eyebrow at your words, “And I suppose one of your two dogs that you call the Kingsguard is hiding just around the corner, waiting for a movement that would put you in danger before cutting me down.”

The silence screamed under the midnight sky, and the candles illuminating the hallway seemed to flicker as your smile turned icy.

“Do you really think I need Felix to intercede in order for me to kill you?”

Your words were barely audible, and could've easily passed as the murmurings of the wind, but for the first time, Minho didn't feel safe. There was something about the glint in your eyes, the way you stood before him like a storm just waiting to tear through him. 

All this time, Minho had not worried about the consequences of his actions. He did not believe that you were in a position to raise a finger at him, especially since the nobles were on his side. You were the former princess of a foreign kingdom, after all. You were the disadvantaged one here. If anything, he was worried what the king might do if his plot was discovered, knowing and having witnessed Hyunjin’s merciless punishments to those that defied him.

But standing before you, alone and without the bravado of his typical entourage, Minho realized. It was you that he should've feared. 

There was not an ounce of humanity, affection, or care in your eyes. The loving queen that had just been cradling her daughter in her arms earlier that night had all but slipped away. Standing before him was a battle-hardened warrior, a woman who had experienced too much suffering to ever go through it again, no matter what it took.

“What do you want from me?” Minho said, his innocent facade fading completely as he finally caved, the hatred seeping into his eyes as he glared at you.

“I want answers, and you will give them to me. If you don't know, which I doubt will be the case, you will direct me to someone who does.”

Minho’s jaw clenched, feeling the growing panic and fury clawing up his chest as he stood before you, with no more cards to play, “Alright.”

“Alright?” You raised an eyebrow, the simplest action laced with an unspoken threat.

“Alright, Your Majesty,” Minho sneered, wanting nothing more than to pull out his hidden blade and run it cleanly through your throat. He knew better though, especially since he was sure Felix had his eyes trained on him, ready to strike.

“Who else is in on this?”

“A few of the lords were vaguely aware that I was plotting something, but they did not actively participate in the act.”

“Were your actions supported?”

Looking down to the side, he muttered, “There were a few people that did not agree on my methods, but still want you removed.”

“Naeun. Is she in danger?” You asked sharply, for the first time, feeling a spike of fear hit you. If there was someone willing to murder your unborn child, you suspected that Naeun would not be safe either.

To your relief, Minho shook his head, “Not that I know of.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. As long as you and your child were relatively safe, you could continue the interrogation more seriously, “You laced my drink with poison, but it was not a large enough dosage to cause death. Why?”

“Your death would effectively sever any alliance between my kingdom and yours,” Minho gritted his teeth as he spoke, as if you were physically pulling out every single word from his mouth, “As much as I despise your kingdom for starting that useless war, I am not arrogant enough to deny that our alliance has benefited both of us greatly.”

“So you wanted my child,” you snarled lowly, your hand unconsciously reaching to touch your stomach as if protecting it, “You wanted me to miscarry.”

Minho smiled, all daggers and fangs as he replied, “If your baby didn't make it, you won't have a male heir. You would most likely have a harder time conceiving, and we'd be able to supply His Majesty with a suitable mistress.”

You stared at Minho, the pieces falling together in your mind as you thought of every moment when the general had tried to undermine you, make your comments less received by actively criticizing them, or scorn you for your status as a foreigner.

“You wanted me to lose favor with Hyunjin,” you concluded, feeling almost disappointed by the turn of events. No matter what kingdom, the power hungry were always the same, tearing down others for their own benefit. Doesn’t the battle for control ever get tiring for them?

Minho barked out a scathing laugh, “Of course I wanted you to lose favor with him. I wanted him to resent you, to hate you, to see you for what you really are, a viper hidden beneath that pretty, pretty face of yours.”

“Why?” You asked, genuinely confused, “Why must you go so far to stop me--to stop him--from being happy?”

“You think he’s happy?” The general scoffed, and against his better judgement, he took a threatening step towards you. The expression on your face barely twitched, but Minho could suddenly feel a murderous aura coming from behind him, and he knew better than to push his luck.

“Do you really think he’s happy?” Minho laughed, “You destroyed him, Your Majesty. You turned him soft. We were going to build the greatest, most ruthless empire the continent has ever known. And suddenly, after he met you, he decided to stop conquering, to take care of his people, to take care of your people after you lost.”

You weren’t expect such a barrage of anger and honesty, but you took the chance while you had it, “And what? You’re upset because you stopped gaining wealth and power in the spades like you used to?”

Minho’s scowl was pure wickedness, and you stared him down, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, “I’m upset because you turned our king into a soft, weak little boy. The plan was to wring you and your people dry, taking all the resources before leaving you to fend for yourself. And, suddenly, after he met you, he wanted to do nothing but protect you, a cowardly, foolish princess that was nothing but her parent’s puppet--”

“Careful,” your voice was soft, its edges laced with poison as your eyes flashed with a silent warning, “You are alive still because I have use for you, but you run your mouth like that again, and I’ll have your tongue cut out before I slit your throat.”

The general realized the seriousness of your words, and his eyes narrowed, “You have use...of me,” he repeated your words, already disliking where this was going. 

“Of course I do. If I didn’t, your body would have already been dumped into the river by now,” you said pleasantly, the serene smile back on your face as you pulled at your lace gloves.

Minho raised an eyebrow, “Do you think you’d be able to get away with that, Your Majesty?”

“Oh, my dear General,” you couldn’t help but laugh, amused by his doubtfulness at your capabilities, “unlike you, I am not in the position where every move I make is another desperate grab for power. I am the Queen. The power stems from me and my husband. And do you think Hyunjin would care about the potential murderer of his unborn child if I told him the truth?”

Minho’s jaw clenched so hard, it was painful. He underestimated you. Hyunjin was not the ruthless one. You were.

Like a snake constricting its prey, knowing there was no hope of escape, you smiled, “You are in no position to threaten me, Lee Minho, and unless you want me to strip you of all of your titles or for me to tell Hyunjin about what has just transpired, I’d keep that snippy mouth of yours shut.”

How pathetic. You knew exactly what he valued in life, and didn’t hesitate in brandishing against him like a sharpened blade. All of Minho's actions were to protect his reputation with the king and to hold onto the power he'd already earned, and you were dangling that prize over his head, ready to rip it away from him at a moment's notice.

“What does Her Majesty require of me?” Minho asked through gritted teeth and a clenched smile.

“Stop with the schemes. I'm sick and tired of them,” you said tiredly, giving him a wary glare, “Stop trying to usurp my power and overthrow my position as Queen. It doesn't matter how many mistresses you want to throw at Hyunjin. He will always love me as I will always love him, and even if that doesn't come to be, he will always have respect for me.”

Minho felt his blood boil as he nodded, “Yes...Your Majesty.”

You didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you smile, moving straight to the most important term.

“You will instate Naeun as the Crown Princess.”

“Are you insane?” Minho snarled, his anger spiking as he spat at you, “The people who supported me in ruling against her will think I've gone mad.”

“Maybe you should've thought twice before deciding on your vote then,” you smiled placidly as you took a step closer towards him.

“You will instate Naeun as the Crown Princess, no conditions, no what ifs. She is the heir. Understood?”

As he gazed into your eyes, each order you have laced with power and unspeakable threat, Minho saw himself in the reflection of your sharp stare. To you, he was nothing but a mere doll for you to manipulate to your own will, a being that could just as easily be discarded as it can be replaced. 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Minho said again, the hatred in his tone more than apparent.

“I expect the good news to be placed on Hyunjin’s desk tomorrow morning.”

Without another word, another acknowledge or even goodbye, you turned around, walking down the hall and leaving Minho to wallow in his own failure, leaving him to forever berate himself for the missteps he made, the miscalculations that had now put his entire career into the hands of the person he despised most in the kingdom.

“Sounded like things were going well, Your Majesty,” Felix commented nonchalantly as you passed him, the young guard having positioned himself in the adjacent hallway, waiting for any inkling of danger to jump in and protect you. You didn’t fail to notice the way he twirled his knife before slipping it back into its sheathe, obviously having pulled it out when Minho had made a poorly concealed threat regarding your condition.

“Yes, it seems like some good has come out of this ridiculous farce,” you sighed, placing your hand gently over your tummy as you felt the slightest kick against your side. With that conversation, you could only hope that the worst of the nobles’ spite towards you and your blood would soon be over. 

Felix eyed you carefully in the silent walk back to the Royal Chambers, noting both your emotional and physical state, “Are you going to keep this from His Majesty?” He asked, afraid of overstepping his boundaries by prodding too much.

“Eventually, the truth will come out whether I want it to or not,” you said as you entered the private section of the palace, exhaustion laced in your words. Truthfully, if Minho had decided to call your bluff and attacked you earlier, it wouldn’t have been as easy as you’d made him believe it to be. You had your reputation as a powerful general back when you were a princess to thank for how successful your negotiations went.

“Still, I think I’ll keep it a secret...just for tonight,” you confided to Felix tiredly, turning to him with a weary smile, “He’s worried enough already, especially after earlier.”

Felix nodded, and you didn’t need to ask additionally to ensure secrecy. Felix was good about those things. He was a good confidante, and once again, you felt immensely grateful for his presence. 

He gave you a bow, practiced ease and gracefulness exuding from even the simplest of movements as he spoke softly, “Take care of yourself, Your Majesty.”

You couldn’t help but smile, reaching over and gently patting his head, a silent gesture of praise for the young knight who’d done so much for you, “I promise. Now go get some sleep. It’s quite late.”

Felix excused himself politely, and you took a deep breath, heading to the bedroom where your lover was probably waiting anxiously for your return.

.

As you’d expected, Hyunjin was almost beside himself when you walked into the room, his hands freezing from where they were pulling at the roots of his dark hair when he gasped, “Y/N, my love!” He rushed towards you, pulling you into his arms and sweeping you into a tight hug.

“Where have you been? I was worried sick! Changbin said that Felix was with you, so I trusted that nothing was wrong, but you were gone for so long and I thought—”

“Shh, my darling,” you cooed, letting his hands touch you fleetingly everywhere he could, your shoulders, your waist, your tummy, anything to let him know that you were once again safe in his arms.

You smiled, cupping his cheeks as you leaned close, “I’m alright. Everything’s alright. I just needed some air after what happened today, so I took a walk in the gardens. Felix was with me every step of the way.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh of both relief and frustration as he held your hand resting on his cheek, looking into your eyes, “Please don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered, “Not after what happened earlier.”

“Nothing happened, Hyunjin,” you said softly, your thumb lightly brushing his face as you comforted him, “I’m here, aren’t I, safe and sound?”

“Things could’ve turned out so much worse,” he pressed a fleeting kiss to your palm as he held your hand, “I had the liquid inspected. At this very moment, you could’ve been unconscious, fighting for your life, our child...gone,” his voice cracked ever so slightly as he palmed your stomach.

“But it didn’t happen like that,” you reassured him, eyes widening as you saw his own eyes glistening with unshed tears, “Oh, Hyunjin.”

Reaching forward, you wrapped your arms around his waist, burrowing in his chest as Hyunjin easily fell into your embrace, burying his face in your hair as he hugged you tightly. The room filled with the comfortable silence, and your conversation continued without the need for words.

I love you. I want you to be safe. Please don’t do anything dangerous. It was all translated through your touch and the warmth you gained from one another.

Hyunjin’s hugs were warm. They felt like hot chocolate on a cold winter day, like a summer breeze that swept you away. You felt safe just being in his arms, and soon, you let out a quiet yawn, nuzzling into his chest.

“Let me coddle you tonight,” he murmured, sensing you slumping forward in his chest as his fingers lightly massaged your scalp, “I know you don’t like it very much, but just for tonight, can I please take care of you?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his request. As much as Hyunjin liked to be cared for, by you in particular, his favorite hobby was to spoil you in any capacity that he knew how. He loved to lavish you with gifts, shower you with love, and to do every little thing to make you comfortable. You weren’t the person that liked to take advantage of this little trait of his, since you were never one for lavish gift giving nor were you ever given such attention before, but seeing how earnest he was, you decided to compromise, especially after all the worrying Hyunjin had probably gone through just waiting for you to return. 

“Of course,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips, “Let’s get ready for bed.”

Hyunjin was carefully meticulous as he  undid the corset of your party dress, pulled out the pins that held your hair up, and delicately slipped the silk nightgown over your form, all the while trailing kisses wherever he could. You did the same for him, helping him out of his uniform as your lips connected with his.

“I was thinking,” you mumbled absently as Hyunjin kissed you with abandon, his hands nimbly undoing the braids in your hair, “We should go away, just us and Naeun.”

“Oh? Do tell me more,” Hyunjin replied with a soft smile, his lips trailing down to your jaw as you tried your hardest to remember what you were trying to say. What a little brat he was being.

You sucked in a gasp as you rolled your eyes, amused by his antics, “Let’s spend a week at the summer estate. Naeun needs space to run around, and both of us need a breather from our royal duties. You especially.”

Hyunjin groaned at your words, “You’re definitely right about that. But can we afford to leave, with all the chaos going around?” He asked, as he began to usher you to the bed, his arms looping around your legs as he ultimately decided to just carry you.

“H-hyunjin!” You squeaked, surprised by the sudden action as your arms wrapped around his neck. Your husband paid you no mind, carrying you to the bed before placing you down delicately. His eyes met yours and you touched his face, “I’m sure we can make time. We can delegate some of the less important work to some of the council members. If not, we can just work extra hard after to make up for lost time. We all need a break.”

“Your wish is my command, my Queen,” Hyunjin leaned forward, pecking your lips before walking around to crawl under the covers from his side of the bed, “I’ll start planning the details of the trip tomorrow. Deal?”

“Deal,” you smiled, snuggling into the covers and scooting closer to your husband as his hand absently shifted to rest on your tummy.

“It would be good for this little one, too. Just to experience what life outside this stuffy palace is like,” Hyunjin mumbled, his eyes already closing. He was no doubt exhausted from hosting the party and all the preparations before hand.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you giggled. Hyunjin always had a way of bringing the conversation back to the baby, “Yes, it'll be good for them, too,” you agreed softly as your eyes began to close as well. The day had been far too eventful for your liking, and you'd like at least one full night of rest before having to tell Hyunjin about your conversation with Minho.

Suddenly, your ears perked up at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open ever so slightly. Hyunjin reacted instantly, pulling you close as he sat up to see who had come in.

“Papa…? Mama…?”

Naeun’s sleepy voice was soft and almost inaudible, but Hyunjin let out a sigh, relaxing as he could make out the little figure of his daughter standing at the door.

“Naeun, what’s wrong?” He asked gently, beckoning her over to his side of the bed, “It’s way past your bedtime.”

“I-i—” The little girl rubbed her heavy eyes as she waddled over to her father as she began to whimper, “I had a bad dweam, P-papa.”

Hyunjin’s heart and yours simultaneously melted as a silent agreement passed between the two of you. The priority was no longer to get a good night's sleep; it was your daughter’s comfort.

“Oh, petal. Was it scary?” Hyunjin cooed, reaching down and easily picking her up, settling her in the large bed. He placed her right in the middle, and you rolled over to your side so you could gently wipe her tears.

Naeun nodded at his words, her lips curled in a trembling pout, “Scawy. C-couldn’t find Mama—a-and people saying that Papa was gone…” Her lip quivered again and she began to cry just from remembering the awful images that passed through her head.

“Shh, shh. Oh, dear,” Hyunjin quickly grabbed a spare handkerchief on the night stand beside his bed as you sat up, murmuring comforting words as you cupped Naeun's cheeks gently. 

“Naeun, my little princess,” you said softly, looking into her sparkling eyes as large crocodile tears rolled down her cheeks, “Mama and Papa are right here. We'll always be here for you, alright? No matter what happens, your Mama and Papa would never, ever abandon you like that.”

The little girl sniffled as Hyunjin wiped away her tears, smiling fondly, “Your mother said it best, petal. No matter what, we'll be here to support you, protect you, and love you until you've grown sick of our coddling.” 

Hyunjin couldn't help but add in a little teasing, booping her nose as he said, “Even after you grow sick of us, we'll still stick annoyingly close.”

Naeun scrunched her nose as she always did when hyunjin messed with her, and she frowned, “I won't ever get sick of Papa and Mama. Never!”

“Oh, one day, you'll take those words back,” you added playfully as you tickled Naeun's little tummy, making her squeal with delight and effectively drawing the nightmare out of her immediate thoughts. Hyunjin joined in, tag teaming your poor daughter until she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open. 

"Love Papa... Love Mama," Naeun mumbled sleepily as she curled into the warm blankets, beginning to fall asleep. You smiled at her words, pressing a kiss to her hair. 

"Mama and Papa love you more than anything else in the whole world," you reassured her, brushing the stray hairs out of her face, "Get some sleep, little one.  Nothing can hurt you here." 

Naeun mumbled in acknowledgment, and her little hands wrapped around Hyunjin’s pinky, making her father’s heart positively melt, “Papa...sing.”

“Sing?” He repeated, slightly flustered as he shifted to a more comfortable position, making sure that Naeun was still able to hold onto his pinky. 

“Mhm, Papa sing,” Naeun nodded as she curled up into a little ball, bringing Hyunjin's hand to her chest as she began to doze off on her own.

You couldn't help but giggle as you burrowed into the covers as well, wrapping a gentle around your daughter as you smiled up at Hyunjin, “Won't you honor a princess’s request?” You teased.

Hyunjin pouted at you, scrunching his nose much like how Naeun had done only minutes before, “But I'm the king,” he said petulantly, making Naeun giggle at his antics, “I can do whatever I want!”

“Well, your Queen is now requesting a song as well,” you said with an air of playful haughtiness as Naeun and you shared a conspiratorial glance.

“Oh dear,” Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, “then, I believe I don't have a choice if my Queen and my Princess so insist.”

“You don't!” Naeun chirped in, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Hyunjin let out a dramatic sigh before propping himself up against the headboard and pulling Naeun into his chest so she could rest comfortably in his arms. He didn't forget you, of course, and laced his fingers with yours as you decided not to move around as much, resting on your side of the bed as you held his hand.

The sound of soft-spoken singing wafted into your ears like a gentle breeze. Hyunjin, albeit not a professional in any way, always had a nice voice. It was the kind of voice that could lull you into relaxation, the kind of voice that soothed your unsettled heart. Before long, your eyes grew too heavy to keep open, and you drifted off to sleep with your hand wrapped around Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin gazed down at his family as he slowly stopped singing, noticing that the two of you had fallen asleep. Without the prying eyes of the world boring down on him, he could finally drop his guard and his cold exterior to fully admire the two people he loved, the little girl in his arms that he treasured so dearly and you, the love of his life that showed him what it truly meant to have a soulmate, a person to confide in wholeheartedly. 

It was his little personal heaven, just to see the two of you sleeping safe and sound, to lie in bed with both his daughter and his wife just at arm's reach. He savored it as much as he could, squeezing your hand once more before putting down himself, pulling the warm covers higher over Naeun to keep her healthy. And not for the first time, Hyunjin wistfully dreamed of a life where he was not the king, where he could be a simple man, only tasked to provide and love his family. 

Hyunjin knew he would be asking for too much. He knew what the two of you had promised to those that had put their faith in your hands. You'd promised to protect them, to wear the crown and carry the burdens of your kingdom, no matter how bruised, bloodied or battered the journey made you. 

But as he stared down at your peaceful expression, your lips slightly parted and your eyes fluttered shut, he couldn't help but remember the terror he felt just hours before, the all consuming fear that you would disappear from his life. And for the first time, Hyunjin was at a loss, facing a crossroad that—in the naivety of his youth—he never thought he’d encounter.

If he had to choose between you or his country, what would he do? If he had to protect the integrity of his kingdom and sacrifice Naeun, would he be able to do it? Before you came along, Hyunjin cared about nothing but his work, his duty. But now, he had a family that he'd do anything to protect.

At the party, Hyunjin felt anger like he'd never felt before in his life. It was more than fury, it was pure rage. He would've been willing to lock the doors and interrogate every single person present in the banquet hall if you hadn't calmed him down. He didn't want to become a king like that, he didn't want to become a ruler than put his own needs and his family’s needs before everything else. 

But if he lost you, if he lost Naeun, if he lost his unborn child, his whole world would shatter. It was almost terrifying how much the past five years had changed him. 

“Hyunjin,” his eyes flew open as he suddenly felt your thumb brush against the back of your hand. Turning his head, he realized that you had woken up, your eyes gazing at him with a mixture of sympathy and love that Hyunjin wanted to drown in.

“You're thinking too much again,” you murmured sleepily, playing absently with his fingers without jostling Naeun, “At this point, you'll have wrinkles before you're even middle aged.”

The king couldn't help but chuckle at your little quip, pressing a kiss to your hand, “I'm sorry, my love. Did I wake you?”

“No, I woke up on my own,” you reassured him, “But I'm glad I did. What's wrong, darling?”

Hyunjin bit his lip, hesitating for a moment. He shouldn't bother you with his feelings, not when you already had to worry about yourself on top of the baby you were carrying. 

“Hyunjin,” you murmured his name once more, and he felt his body shudder at how sweet, how loving you sounded, “You can tell me anything.” 

It was the only gentle nudge he needed.

“I'm worried about this,” Hyunjin said softly, “Our family. I can't stop worrying. I didn't know about the poison, even though all the food and drinks were inspected. When will it ever be enough?”

You squeezed his hand, “You're putting too much responsibility on yourself. The family’s safety is not your burden to bear alone, it is for us to share.”

Hyunjin nodded, “I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his midnight hair, “I know, Y/N. But I just wish I could do more.”

“You do more than enough for us, darling,” you reassured him, “You do more than any king would do for their families. It's alright, Hyunjin. You're doing so well.”

“I am?” Hyunjin sucked in a breath, placing your hand on his cheek as he closed his eyes, revelling in your words and your presence. 

“You are.”

These were not honey coated words to soothe a monarch and appease his temper. You meant them more than you could ever express. You knew Hyunjin was trying his best. You knew Hyunjin was most likely protecting you from forces that you weren't even aware of, just like the way you'd dealt with Minho just earlier. 

“I found out who did it, by the way,” you mumbled, figuring that this felt like the right time to tell him in hopes that Hyunjin might sleep better knowing that the problem was dealt with.

There was a moment of deathly silence before Hyunjin uttered a single word, "Who?" 

You sighed. Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all, especially since your daughter was soundly sleeping in the space between the both of you, "Promise that you won't do anything rash right now." 

"You're asking me not to do anything rash when I find out who tried to murder my unborn child and harm my wife?" Hyunjin asked in disbelief. 

“I'm asking you not to overreact now while your daughter is sleeping," you hissed back, "I handled it for the time being." 

Hyunjin let out a frustrated sigh, "Alright, you win. You have my word,” he said, lacing his fingers with yours.

You bit your lip, wondering if it would just be easier to be completely honest or to ease into it gently. After a moment of consideration, you decided on the former. 

“It’s Minho.”

Hyunjin reacted without thinking, feeling the rage run through his veins once again as he began to sit up, “That bastard--”

As he shifted aggressively, Naeun whined in her sleep, beginning to squirm. You wrapped your arm around her body as your other hand grabbed Hyunjin’s sleeve, “You promised!”

Hyunjin’s steeled eyes softened as he looked down at the little girl beside him, and he slumped back on the bed, pressed a kiss to her forehead and rubbing her back, helping soothe her back to a deep sleep, “I should’ve gotten rid of him earlier. I knew he disliked your presence, but I thought--I thought he’d be able to see past the differences.”

“As did I,” you admitted, running your fingers gently through Naeun’s hair as her whimpers stopped and slowly went back to soft breaths, “but it seems like he disappointed both of us.” 

The king sighed tiredly, feeling the rest of his fiery hot anger dissipate as he turned to lie on his side, his eyes trained on Naeun as he made sure she was asleep, “You said you handled it. Let me guess, it was when you ‘went for a walk.’” 

“You know me too well,” Flicking his forehead playfully, you couldn’t help but smile, “Yes, we had a quick conversation as I was walking back to the chambers. I don’t believe he will try it again any time soon.”

“I would ask what you told him, but I almost don’t want to know,” Hyunjin said with a hint of a smile as he closed his eyes, “My wife can be very scary when she wants to be.”

You shrugged, stroking his cheek fondly for a moment longer before pulling your hand away and lying back down, “I’m the same as you, Jinnie. Anything to protect this family we’ve created.”

Hyunjin hummed in agreement, his long arm draping over to wrap around both you and Naeun, “Anything. But for now, let’s sleep. Thank you, Y/N.”

“Whatever for?” You asked curiously, unsure of what Hyunjin was thinking about in that little head of his. 

“For being here. For loving me. For everything you do,” he mumbled, already beginning to fall asleep    as his words began to slur. Your heart felt warm and fluttery as you smiled, patting the back of his hand as you mumbled your sleepy reply.

“I’ll always be here for you, Jinnie. You’re not alone anymore.”

Hyunjin cracked a smile at that, and hugged you and Naeun ever so slightly tighter in his arms. You were right. He wasn’t alone anymore. He had you and Naeun, whom he loved with every fiber of his being. He had Changbin and Felix, who were slowly becoming less like guards and more like their surrogate family. 

And for all those reasons, Hwang Hyunjin fell asleep considering himself quite lucky. 

[internalsealpanic]

For What It’s Worth

Summary: A deal with the devil goes smoothly. a/n:  As a joke, my co-writer suggested I post daddy kink fics on Father’s Day. Here’s Roman’s bwahahhahahahahahah. No further thought process was put into this. warnings: dub con, daddy kink, cockwarming, and infidelity/cheating

Masterlist

The men drag you into a lavish room. It's sleek with large glass windows and a wooden floor shined like mirrors. You think it's pretty but you can't help but think of how impractical it is to have such large windows until you consider how much money Roman Sionis has and how he'd probably spend it on bulletproof windows. You rub your arm as one of the men shoves you forward to face none other than Black Mask himself. You try to keep your posture straight which is made easier by the fact that the man refuses to even look up from his work.

"Boss, we found this woman lurking in the halls. She said she had some business with you."

"I- I work for the Maronis… Sort of.." You didn't lie about working for the Maronis but Sal Maroni wasn't in town and he certainly didn't have a message for Roman.  "But I'm not here for the Maronis today, Mr. Sionis. I'm here to ask for an extension for my husband's debt."

This gets Roman to look up from his paperwork. "How did you get past my security?" He says, scrutinizing. Your limbs are shaking. Maybe it would have been better if you could convince Mal to just skip town but that wasn't an option. Roman already had men looking for him.

You swallow in a vain attempt to steady your rapidly fraying nerves.  "I told them I was here to deliver a message from Salvatore Maroni and showed them proof," Your voice gets quieter as you speak, "that I forged." You clear your throat trying to wrestle up some bravado. "Anyway, I'm here to try and ask if you can extend my husband's debt."

Roman waves one of the men over. The man thrusts his hand out for the ID you'd shown him earlier and the supposed note from Maroni. They all look well made. They would probably be good enough to fool even a detective given you were able to clean them up a bit. Roman is quietly impressed but he's also annoyed that you had managed to sneak in and disturb his work.  "Who would that be?" He asks, not looking up from your work.

"His name is Mal... Mal (L/n)." Your husband has worked for Sionis even before you two were married before he came clean to you. He swears he'll get out of the life as soon as he manages to pay off this debt. He swore on his mother. Roman is looking at you, brow raised and mouth drawn into a flat line like he really can't remember who Mal is. How can he not remember someone his people are hunting down?

"He-- he runs drugs for you." Still nothing. "And he- he told me he owes you a large debt and that's why you've been sending men to find him for the last few days." You say in one long breath. You were exhausted just thinking about the false facers hanging around outside your home and the number of times they've harassed your neighbors for Mal's whereabouts.

"Oh yeah, him." Roman says, setting down the ID and resting his chin on intertwined fingers.

You dig your nails into your palms. It was uncomfortable the way he's sizing you up.

Roman looks away from you momentarily, focusing instead on his glove and what you assume is a spec of dust pinched between his fingers. "So what do you have to offer?"

You hold back a relieved breath and begin rifling through your bag.  "Well, we can offer our house as a collateral and there's also the shop and  maybe... the car but that may not be worth much..." You really didn't own anything substantial. Nothing that would interest a mob boss anyway and you didn't have any valuable information from working with the Maronis. But what you could do was beg. Men in power love nothing more than a reminder of their power and even with your meager possessions with enough honeyed words, you could buy your time. You just need to buy Mal sometime and you could work something out. "If we offer up more of our possessions as collateral we could- we could pay the debt off in a couple of years. Maybe a little more. Mal and I just need a bit more time."

A dark chuckle rises from Roman's chest at the hopeful look in your eyes. "You think you can pay that off in a couple of years? How much do you think your husband owes?"

You stop rummaging through your bag. Your head tilts up slowly to look at a grinning Roman. Nervously, you fidget with your ring as you rack your brain for the exact amount Mal told you. Was it a hundred grand or was it more? Did Mal even really tell you or did you come up with some reasonable number?

"Sweetheart, I asked you a question," Roman says with a snap of his fingers.

You flinch. "He- He told me it's only a couple hundred grand-"

Roman barks out a laugh that echoes in the room.  "Either your husband is stupider than I thought he was or... Do you think I would send men after him for chump change?" He says, voice rising with his temper.

"No..." You whimper shrinking in on yourself. Mal, what have you done?

He likes that sound. "Sweetheart, that husband of yours owes me 5 mil." Roman leans back in his chair to look at you. Not bad, he thinks. "Sir that- that can't be right..."

Oh, Roman definitely likes the way 'sir' rolls off your tongue. "You're right. It's technically 5.4."

You choke. Your stomach is hurtling to the ground with a splat.

Roman beckons you to come close. You're too dizzy and numb to disobey. You don't even react when Roman slides you into his lap or when he places a hand over one of your thighs. Your body reacts to his touch but your mind is still caught up in the numbers. How could you not have known Mal had so much debt? How could he hide it from you?

"Do you want to tell me I’m wrong again?" He asks, squeezing your thigh. You whimper. The simple touch and the gravelly voice in your ear was much more attention than what you'd gotten in months. You try to shush yourself but your breathing is already starting to get labored. Roman's lips quirk in amusement as he feels your body starting to tremble. "I can show you just exactly what he spent 5 million on if you’d like."

You really don't know if you want to but it's not like your input really matters at the moment. Roman snaps his fingers and one of the men in the room hands him a tablet. He grasps your chin with a firm hand to make sure you're paying attention. You try to wriggle out of it for a second but then give up, paying full attention to the numbers on the screen. "He spent an awful lot at one of my whore houses last month."

You go completely still at the words. You look hurt but nowhere on your face could Roman find any spec of surprise. He wouldn't doubt that this isn't the first time your husband strayed from you considering how much of his debt was spent there.

Your eyes go misty. Your body begins to tremble with barely contained anger. You try to breathe and calm yourself.   Digging your nails into your palms, you walk yourself through a breathing exercise. Mal told you it was the last time when you'd caught him for the second time.  He begged you on his knees for you to stay telling you that it was gonna be the last time.

Roman's hand slides up your inner thigh, inching your skirt up. "Did you know that’s what he spends his nights doing?" Your breath hitches you clamp your thighs together.

"I bet you’ve been so lonely haven’t you darling?" Roman whispers, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He presses circles into your flesh. "Barely touched…barely kissed. Just waiting for your dearest husband to come home."  He nips at the spot behind your ear that makes you pull his shirt into a tight fist. Your head is hazy with a swirl of emotion but all you can concentrate on is the way Roman's touch is so firm against your body. "And here he is, at the Rosette Club." Roman places the tablet in your hands for you to see your husband standing impatiently at the front desk.

You let out a strained breath and your legs easing at his touch. Roman rewards you with a pleased hum. "It's funny," he says, inching your skirt up.  "The girl he requests the most has a passing resemblance to you. Wonder why he would bother paying  if he's got you at home begging for his cock." Roman brushes his lip against your neck. Your body reacts wonderfully to his actions, leaning back to give him space to do as he pleases.  Your warm body is so pliant to his touch and your voice is so sweet. "I can’t understand why he’d pass you up for another whore."

Roman's hand brushes the edge of your lace panties and he smirks. "Darling, did you wear those for me?" He toys with the fabric before stroking your clothed pussy, feeling the wet heat. "Would you like to hear my counteroffer?"

You nod, trying to keep quiet. You couldn't bear to look him in the eyes.  Roman grips your chin to force you to look at him. "I'm going to need you to be a good girl for me first." You swallow. "Are you going to be a good girl for me?"

You nod your head vigorously. It's hard to care about how eager you seem.

"Words, doll." Roman says coolly, yanking your head back by your hair.

"Yes- Yes, sir. I'll be good."

You just miss someone wanting you.

"Good,"He releases your hair. He grips your hip tightly as he starts undoing his belt. You suck in a sharp breath when his cock springs free.  Roman can see you staring which certainly inflates his ego.  "Sit on my cock and don't move until I tell you to, got it doll?" He says, stroking his cock.

You nod again, then quickly add: "Yes, sir."

You shift to face him, flicking your eyes towards the other men in the room. Roman snaps his finger. The men leave without a word. You're not stupid enough to think it's purely for your sake but you don't really think about it much as you push your underwear to the side.

"Good girl." Roman says, gripping the back of your neck as he guides you down onto his cock.

You cry out in short pants as you slide down his length. You feel your insides stretch for him. The veins of his cock hitting all the right spots. Roman grunts as your warmth swallows him down to the hilt. You let yourself adjust to his girth, grinding your hips against his.

Roman leans forward. You brace your hands against his shirt, waiting for him to pound into you... he doesn't. You open your eyes and watch Roman put on glasses and continue to work.

You squirm, trying to get him to move. Roman answers with a warning squeeze of your hip. "Now sit still sweetheart, I’ve got things I need to finish."

You pant heavily and wrap your arms around his neck sitting as still as possible.

Roman makes this incredibly difficult as he trails a hand up and down your spine and kneads your ass while he works.

You quietly breath daddy into his ear while he works in both desperation and retaliation.

Roman's patience is waning based on how hard he grips your flesh. It makes your skin heat and the coil in your stomach wind tighter. You squirm a bit trying to shift the angle just a little, just enough to hit the right spot.

"Sweetheart," he says in a warning tone, "what did I tell you?"

"I’m sorry daddy, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable." You nuzzle your face into his neck breathing deeply. He smells like cigar smoke and whiskey.

Roman doesn’t have the heart to scold you since you're  behaving so well. "Are you always this good for your husband?" Roman sneers, squeezing your ass and moving your closer to him.

"Yes sir. I try to be." You're incredibly embarrassed considering the situation and trying so hard not to move your hips.

"You’re this well behaved and he doesn’t fuck you?" Roman grinds out as you squeeze around him.  "Then again, you are married to an idiot."

Roman tilts your chin to look at your face. Your husband really is an idiot, Roman thinks as he looks into your desperate, half-lidded expression.

"No wonder you were so touch starved," he says, starting to bounce you on his cock, "it’s a crime to leave a sweet ass like this untouched for months."

You let out a shaky breath as he continues the lazy pace, grinding his cock inside you in shallow strokes.

"Were you hoping he'd finally fuck you if your saved his skin?"

"Maybe." You whimper. You close your eyes, winding your arms tightly around his shoulders. You push your husband out of your mind and do your best to concentrate on the cock pulsing inside you. It was far too easy especially when he'd apparently pushed you out of his long before.  "I- I just miss being touched."

Roman brings his hand down on your ass and the slap rings out in the room. Your greedy hole strangles his cock. "Don't worry sweetheart, daddy will  take good care of you." He grinds out.

It's about another hour before Roman gets done both from being purposefully slow and being very distracted by all the little things your body does to let him know just how desperate you are.

Roman, finally done with his paperwork, runs his hand through his hair and leans back into his chair. That might have been the longest hour of his life. "Get off." He orders, brusquely. His patience was a hair's breadth from completely dissolving.

You whine and pout at him but use your shaky limbs to get off of Roman, moaning as his cock drags against your walls.

He can see the desire slick on your thighs. "Get on the desk and spread your legs for daddy." Roman says, loosening his tie.

He stands up and pushes you back onto the desk. You scoot back, careful not to disturb the paperwork much to Roman's amusement.  You spread open your legs wide, the bottom of your heels catching his legs.

You're so wet for him that you're dripping onto the desk. He looks into your debauched face and Roman's cock twitches in his hand. You would definitely make a killing at the Rosette Club. Roman pumps his cock as he watches you stroke your clit in time with his hand. You purr his name softly as you look at him with hooded eyes.

"Christ sweetheart, look at you. You're such a good little slut." Roman grinds out.

"Please, daddy."

"Put your fucking hand away." He growls.

You pull your hand away from your pussy and bring it to your lips. You lick up a long stripe, lapping up your own juices.

Oh, he is definitely keeping you for himself.

Roman pulls you closer to him and hooks your legs around his waist.

You wrap your arms around his neck. "Please daddy, I need you." You dig the bottom of your heels into his ass drawing out a sharp breath from him.

Roman kisses you, running his hands up and down your sides. You melt into the kiss consumed by the touches and passion you've missed for months.

He pulls back and tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, biting it before licking over it to soothe the sting. The head of Roman's cock teases your folds, parting them just slightly. Your hand finds its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he goes readily, deepening the kiss.

Roman slides his cock back into you and you scream into the kiss. He fucks you recklessly into the wood of the desk. It screeches and scrapes against the wooden floor as his cock thrusts deep into your pussy.

Groping and claiming every part of you he can reach, Roman pulls back from the kiss. He yanks on your shirt, causing one of the buttons to pop off,  then sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You hiss his name, the stinging on your shoulder mixing with the pleasure.

"Tell me doll, has that husband of yours ever made you feel this good?"

"No, sir. Ah! He- He's never been able to- Ah! Satisfy me like this."

"That's right, baby. You'll only be hungry for Daddy's cock, won't you?"

"Yes, sir." You say in a breathy moan, dragging your nails across his neck.

Roman hisses a litany of curses in your ear as your pussy milks his cock, gripping him and making it harder for him to pull away. He pushes you flat on your back as he thrusts his cock deeper into you.

He bites your shoulder again. Your walls spasm around him. "You tighten so nicely around me when I do that." Roman hisses bites you again, then groans. "Christ, baby, just like that."

After a few more thrusts, you cum on Roman's cock with a pathetic little whimper. He empties himself inside you with a groan.

You lay on the table flat on your back, your breathing harsh.

Roman straightens himself out like nothing ever happened.  He sneers down at you. You look completely fucked out and hazy from your orgasm.

"You're going to work for me," he says. You sit up and nod as best you can.  Roman leans forward,  nibbling on your neck and caging you in with his hands. "And you're going to come to my office any time I ask."

"I-" You swallow down the raspiness of your voice and try to sound as pleasant as possible.  "Of course, sir."

Roman yanks your head to the side. "You’re such a good girl for daddy." He purrs, sucking a mark behind your ear. "Tell me the truth sweetheart, does that two-bit gangster even know you're here?"

You shake your head. This was your last resort plan after your contacts backed out of helping you get out of the city. You could easily create new identities for you and Mal but getting out of the cities without being hounded down by False Facers was an entire different problem. One you didn't have time or the resources to resolve. But somehow all that planning felt like it went to waste. Mal was never going to change for you.

"Mal  thinks I'm going to my boss to beg him for a loan."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because Mr. Maroni would never lend me the money if he knew what it was for. He thinks Mal is a waste of an investment..."

"You really are wasted on that husband of yours." Roman tuts, stroking the side of your face. You soak up the affection shamelessly. You know full well it's wrong to seek comfort in someone else especially someone like Roman but... you feel lonely and used and you just want someone that wants you so openly.

"Get dressed," Roman says, taking out his phone, "and get your things from that shit hole you call a house."

You open your mouth to ask him why and where but he cuts you off with an annoyed look.

"If you're going to be my pet, I can't wait an hour to fuck you."

Your cheeks heat up as you shuffle to get dressed. You look nice bent over and flushed, Roman thinks. Maybe he should bend you over his desk sometime. No point mulling it over now. He'll have time to think about it.

You quietly mutter a thank you sir before exiting the room with your legs awkwardly clamped together, your cute little cunt still filled to the brim with his seed.

It should take you about an hour to pack your things and get back to him. Maybe longer if that husband of yours begs you to stay. Well, Roman can eliminate that second possibility right away.

He opens his phone and sends a video with the message: "Your debt is paid."

If your husband is smart, he'll skip town.

If he's stupid, he'll rack up more debt.

If he's even stupider, he'll protest.

Either way, Roman has you and if you're as smart as he thinks you are, you'll be worth the 5.4 mil in and out of his bed. If you aren't and he gets bored, he could always just stick you in one of his whore houses and make a killing. There's no shortage of men with deep pockets who'd like to get their hands on a hussie like you.

It's all a win-win for Roman.

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

so happy u reached 300! maybe u could write about what it would be like when peter introduces you to the avengers (ik everyone writes these but i love the concept and ur writing so much 😭)

and it can be anything, blurb, headcannon it’s up to you !!!

Thank you and I’m happy to give my take on this! I decided to just make it a little blurb, I'm very, very sorry it's so late, I hope you like it hun, love you xx

Nervous Introductions

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader 

Summary: You're a little nervous to meet the other Avengers

Masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

If Peter was considered soft and quiet, then his girlfriend was just the opposite. She was confident and outgoing, everyone she met fell in love with her. A people person to say the least, and Peter felt incredibly lucky to have someone like her as his person. For some reason he couldn't quite figure out she had fallen just as hard as he had. Peter loved her more than anything, he thought she was the best person in the world, and he wanted to show her off. To his friends, to aunt May, to random passerby's in the street, and of course, to the Avengers.

As soon as she'd found out he was Spiderman he'd brought up the idea. He wanted to show off his pretty girlfriend, and prove once and for all that she was real. Despite the pictures and texts he'd show everyone, they still seemed to think she was fake. They insisted she was just a friend no matter what he did. She had seemed excited at the prospect, until the day of. She'd been uncharacteristically nervous since he picked her up.

"Are you ready?" Peter squeezed her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her forehead as they entered the elevator.

She took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah."

"You seem nervous."

"I'm not," she shook her head, "I'm excited to meet them, I know how important this is to you."

"It's okay if you are, they're the Avengers, most people would be nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"Okay," he chuckled, pressing another kiss to her head, "But I'm right here if you are."

"No, no, you know me P, I'm not really a nervous person."

"I know, but it's okay if you get nervous sometimes."

"I'm not nervous," she groaned, "Come on Peter, I got this, hype me up."

"I don't need to hype you up if you aren't nervous," he smirked.

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes, "I'm just worried they won't like me or something."

"Everyone likes you," he laughed, "It's okay that you're nervous, I can do the talking if you need."

"I'm not nervous," she snapped, rolling her eyes as the elevator doors opened once more, "I've got this."

He just nodded, pulling her behind him with a small smirk on his lips, "Well come on then, we don't want to keep anyone waiting."

She followed behind him silently, examining everything they passed by, looking out for any superhero that may have been lurking in the halls. Ironman, Captain America, and Black Widow. Those were the only people supposed to be there, so she wasn't ready for anyone else. She was glad it was such a small roster, three a-listers was more than enough if you asked her.

"Would you look at that? I guess he wasn't making her up after all," Tony smirked as he spotted them in the doorway.

She clenched Peter's hand tight, "Guys this is (y/n), (y/n) this is Mr. Stark, and that's Steve, he's Cap-"

"I know who they are," she spoke in a small voice that only he could make out.

He was shocked, she'd never been so quiet before, "Right, just making sure."

"It's nice to meet you, I'm Natasha," Natasha smiled, offering her a hand.

(y/n) shook it once, "You too."

"So, how'd you two meet?" Steve beamed, seeming oblivious to her obviously nervous state.

"We go to school together," Peter reminded, "(y/n)'s from Brooklyn."

"Really?" his eyes lit up excitedly, "Me too, where'd you grow up?"

"Right by the Brooklyn bridge," she blushed.

"Alright no one cares what street she grew up on," Tony rolled his eyes, "There are much more important questions to ask. Like what do you see in Peter?"

"Hey!" Peter's cheeks flushed, "Don't ask her that!"

A small smile kept onto her lips, finally cracking her nervous shell.

"I'm just trying to make sure she's got good intentions," Tony defended, hands raised in surrender, "I gotta make sure she's not a spy, or encouraging you to drink underage or something."

"Like you're one to talk about underage drinking," Natasha scoffed, rolling her eyes before addressing the girl again, "You can ignore them."

"I'm not trying to corrupt Peter," she assured, "Or spy on you guys or anything, well maybe find out some embarrassing stuff about Peter, but nothing malicious."

Peter groaned while Tony smirked, "Well if you want embarrassing I've got hours and hours of Peter's mission audios on back log."

"No," Peter shook his head, "We are not going through those."

"Aw, why not? I bet you're just rambling on about Star Wars or something," she giggled.

"Well last week he wouldn't shut up about how he was gonna bring his girlfriend over and we'd all see that you were real," Natasha snickered, "I'm still not sure he didn't pay you."

"He did," she laughed, "He's doing my homework for the next two weeks."

"Babe," Peter groaned.

"What? Am I not supposed to tell them?" she teased, "Sorry, I thought I only had to pretend we were actual dating around May."

"We are dating," he rolled his eyes, "Is it really that hard to believe I'm dating someone?"

"Well, kid, you don't exactly have game," Tony hummed.

"What? Peter's got mad game," (y/n) smirked, "Didn't he tell you guys how he asked me out?"

"Please don't tell them," he groaned.

"Tell us," Tony demanded.

"We were in P.E," she began, a small smirk starting to creep onto her lips, "We were on opposite basketball teams guarding each other and Peter got the ball. So I'm trying to like, steal it right? And I'm getting in his face and everything and when I tried to grab the ball we ended up slipping and Peter fell on top of me. So I try to get up but he's just sitting there staring at me and I asked him what was up. And you know what he says?" she glanced at Peter, who's cheeks were about to catch fire, "Come on, tell 'em P."

"I told her she looked pretty on the floor," he sighed.

"So I started laughing and he didn't say another word until class ended, where he asked me if I'd ever gone on a date and then asked me if something I would be interested in doing with him."

Peter pressed his forehead to her shoulder, hiding his face while everyone burst into laughter. He watched quietly as her nerves dissipated and she turned back into her normal bubbly self. It was easy to see that they were hanging off her every word, as almost everyone she spoke to did. Pride bubbled in his chest as he watched the rest of the Avenger's fall for her the same way he had. By the time they left he was sure they wanted her on the team more than him.

"I love you, you know that?" he wrapped an arms tightly around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head as the entered the elevator.

"I love you more," she sang back, wrapping her own arm around his torso, "So, how'd I do?"

"I think they were crazy about you."

Her cheeks dusted red, "They weren't as intimidating without the superhero get-ups on. You really think it went well?"

"I think it went absolutely amazing, but I knew it was going to because you're you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're the most amazing person in the world and everyone who meets you falls for you. It was bound to go well."

"Sap," she rolled her eyes before getting onto her tip toes to kiss his cheek, "It wouldn't have gone nearly as well without you there, I think I would have been a bit of a wreck without you."

"I'm glad I could help. I'm always here for you if you get nervous okay?"

She nodded, "Same goes here. I got your back P."

"And I've got yours, always."

[nagito-kissmaeda]

I don't know if I've Talked to you yet? But may i get Nagito with a Talentless! S/o who's a Degradee. So whenever He Gets angry and Talks about her because of her talent. She's attracted to it. But is able to hide it for a while. But one day she slips up ane admit she likes it to hajime and nagito happens to overhear it. (I'd love a Nsfw Fic) if your open.

ミ☆ Thanks for the request! This was very interesting for me to write because i dont usually make Komaeda so.......mean. It does get pretty filthy so i hope that’s okay ahah.  Word Count:  2882

Warnings: Fem reader, no pronouns, explicit sexual content, degradation, possessive behaviour

You’re not sure that Komaeda’s insults are having their desired effect.

Generally, the other students of class 77-B treat you perfectly well, even kindly. You’d braided Sonia’s hair for her once when it was windy and getting in her eyes, after that she seemed to take a liking to you and started inviting you to eat lunch with her in the main course building. At first you were very nervous, shaking as you lurked in the doorway, holding your bento box between your quivering hands. 

But then, “Good afternoon, everyone! I’d like you all to meet my new friend!” Sonia said brightly, and everything sort of fell into place.

Everything except Komaeda. 

Presently, he has you backed up against a wall, one hand pressed up beside your head. He’s quite a bit taller than you, and has to crane his head down when his lip curls up in disgust. You aren’t really sure what his problem is, but he finds a way to antagonise you almost every day. Like he’s trying to convince you to snap. It isn’t working, but it is doing something else.

“How much did your parents pay, huh?” He whispers, voice eerily delicate even as his eyes burn with vitriol, “How much did you sacrifice just so you could pretend to be worth something?”

Your mouth has gone dry. Your eyes flit around his face, trying too hard not to focus on the subtle movement of his lips. 

“Ah, are you too afraid to answer? Afraid of what I might think of you?” 

You are not afraid. 

Komaeda leans in closer, lips curling up in a snarl, “you mustn’t concern yourself with such things.“

You are something far worse than that.

“My opinion of you will remain less than dirt regardless of your answer.” 

You are aroused and a pathetic little moan breaks away from your mouth at the feeling of his breath on your face, at his closeness, and the way he leers down at you like you are nothing more than a nuisance to him. His tongue darts out of his mouth to wet his lower lip and you whine . 

He laughs, mistaking the sound for one of fear, “The only reason I don’t pull you from our classroom and lock the door behind you, is because Sonia seems to enjoy your company. I’m sure her little fancy will not last long.” He smiles, “so make the most of the honour while it lasts.”

Komaeda leans back from you, and it feels like you can finally catch your breath again. Trying your hardest to ignore the way your heart is racing and just how wet your panties are getting. He does not seem to notice, lips curling up in a smirk that makes your breath hitch as he turns on his heel.

He did not notice the effect he was having on you. Far too concerned with trying to get you away from the rest of his ultimate classmates before you have a chance to dirty them with your pathetic presence. After all, even he was above you and that was saying something. Komaeda leaves you quivering in the hallway and heads back through the open door of classroom 77-B, but the sound of running feet brings him pause. He closes the door most of the way, leaving it open enough that he can watch through the gap without you noticing. 

“Hey.” Hinata says breathlessly, coming to a stop where you are still leaning against the wall, “I saw Komaeda bothering you, are you alright?” 

Komaeda scoffs. Hinata is just as much a problem as you are, always hanging around Nanami-san like it’s his given right. 

“Huh?” You say, still noticeably shaking, “oh I’m fine.” 

Komaeda smirks. If asked, he would claim that he only harassed you for the good of his fellow classmates; he would not admit the exhiliarion he feels in the moments when he finally gets to be better than someone. When he has you up against a wall like that, when he talks down to you like that. He feels something in his gut. A twisting that feels almost euphoric. 

Hinata huffs and crosses his arms, “look, that guy's an asshole. I can see you shaking, did he threaten you or something?” 

“No! Not really? I’m just…..uh…..” Komaeda can see you twisting your hands with nerves, his brows draw together in confusion, “I think I…like it…” 

Hinata balks, “wait. What?” He hisses, and Komaeda is thinking something very similar.

“When he’s mean to me like that.” You breathe, chewing on your lower lip, “when he has me up against the wall I...feel...good…” 

“No. Stop. Please.” Hinata exclaims, waving his hands in front of his face, “look, we’ve got to get to class. I don’t want to hear anymore about this. Okay?” 

Komaeda’s breath is caught in his throat as he watches the both of you walking back down the hall. Horrified at the tightness in his crotch. He whirls around and leans back on the wall, cupping a hand over his mouth to hide his heavy breathing. 

Those little noises you were making, the way you were shaking beneath him. 

This had not been his intention. 

Though, he supposes he can entertain the idea. Just to see how you react. It might even be fun. 

*

A few days later, you are back in the mostly vacant classroom with Sonia and Ibuki, the latter is in the middle of painting the nails on your right hand. 

“I know you said you don't really like this colour, but it glows in the dark, so that makes up for it, rigggggght?” Ibuki says; her nailpolish skills are lacking so your fingers are a bit of a mess, but you’re having fun anyway. 

“I think i might scare myself tonight when i turn the lights off and my fingers start glowing.” you laugh, Sonia titters politely behind her hand, but her expression quickly changes. 

“Oh.” She says, looking over your shoulder, “Hello, Nagito.”

You freeze. Throat going dry. You are not prepared for another encounter with Komaeda. 

“Ah, Hello. It’s nice to see the both of you.” He says. It does not escape your notice that he purposefully didn't even acknowledge your presence. 

“Don’t get too close naggy-waggy.” Ibuki replies, tongue sticking out as she starts painting the nails on your other hand, “I must focus on my art!”

A shiver runs up your spine when you feel the warmth of another body behind you. Komaeda leans over your shoulder to look down at your nails as Ibuki paints them, you can feel his breath on the side of your neck, you can smell him. He smells really good, why does he have to smell so good?

“You’ve improved a lot since your last attempt, Mioda-san.” Komaeda says, you can practically feel the words on your skin.

Ibuki laughs, “Kaz was a very good sport when I spilled it all over his arms! Plus! He was glowing for three days straight and i actually think it looked pretty sick!!!” 

“You're very lucky to have someone as wonderful as Mioda-san do your nails.” Komaeda breathes, you turn your head just a little. His face is so close to yours, his lips quirked up in the corners just enough that you know he is mocking you. Then, as he finally begins to stand back up again, he whispers in your ear, “after all, you’re just a pathetic reserve course student, aren't you?”

You feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear, and you swear it can't be intentional, but a shudder runs through you so powerful that you accidentally bump the nailpolish out of Ibuki’s hand. 

You are too busy trying to help her and Sonia clean up the mess, to notice the way Komaeda looks back, hands in his pockets and smirking at how easy it was to rattle you.

Yes, he thinks. This will be fun. 

*

It continues like this for some time. Komaeda is always lingering close to you, whispering in your ear. He’s always loved watching you squirm, but now it feels like he is doing more often, more shamelessly. After weeks of what feels like almost endless torment, something finally snaps. 

You’re dashing down the hall at lunch, it’s a decent walk from the reserve course building to the main course, so you really have to put the leg work in if you want to spend any real time with Sonia before heading back over again. You round a corner and run headlong into Komaeda. The universe has a hilarious sense of humour.

“Ah.” He starts, cocking his hips to the side while staring down at you, “What rotten luck.”

You glare at him, “Rotten luck, indeed.” 

Komaeda laughs, “Is that so? I’m quite sure this is the highlight of your day.” You stiffen as he leans down by your ear, his long fingers coming to rest on your hip, “You do so enjoy it when I mock you, after all.” 

You feel his teeth on the side of your throat, not really biting, but pressing down just enough that you can feel them. You release a shaky moan, digging your nails into your palms.

“Just like a reserve course student to revel in my touch; in whatever form it comes.” His hand grips tighter, you can feel his nails pressing hard against your skin, “I could bite down so hard that you bleed, and you’d still moan, wouldn’t you?” 

You would. Oh god you would. Your legs are shaking, you can feel his warm breath in your ear and you’re becoming painfully aware that this is happening in the hallway. You swallow as your eyes dart open to the supply closet behind Komaeda. He grins saccharinely as he follows your eyes, grabbing you by the hand and tugging you down the hall. Before you have a chance to ask what is going on-

The door to the supply closet clicks shut, and you are suddenly very aware of your situation. It takes you eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light, but when they do, you can see the utter hunger in Komaeda’s eyes. You swallow.

“How...how long have you known?”

“Known what?” He asks, feigning innocence.

You huff, “don’t make me say it!” 

Komeda crosses his arms, “no, I seem to have forgotten. I’ll need you to remind me.” 

You avert your eyes, scowling down at the ground, “how long have you known, that your degradation turns me on?”

He grins, “Almost a month.”

Your head snaps back up in horror, “So you’ve been toying with me on purpose this whole time?” You scoff, “What am I saying, of course you have been.”

“You’re lucky that I pay attention to you at all.” He breathes, and your heart starts racing at the jangle of a belt buckle.

This can’t be happening.

“You should be worshipping me.” Komaeda purrs over the sound of a leather belt being tugged through its loops. Your legs are quivering.The snick of a button coming undone, the sound of a zipper, and the thump of your knees hitting the floor all happen within seconds of each other. 

Komaeda chokes on a laugh. “I thought I would have to ask you to kneel.” He pulls his cock out of his boxers, already half hard as a smirk crawls up the side of his face, “But it seems you already know your place.” 

His cock is very pretty. Pale and slim with a blush red tip that you can't help wanting to suck on. 

“Don’t worry.” Komaeda whispers, “I have very low expectations for someone as talentless as yourself. I’ll be impressed if you even manage to make me come.”

Arousal shudders through you at his words, leaning forward and giving the head of his cock a cursorly lick. His breath catches in his throat. Such a pretty sound, you want to hear it more. One of his hands curls into your hair as you open your mouth wide and take the whole head in, sucking gently before bobbing your mouth halfway down. 

“ Ah! ” Komaeda hisses, hips stuttering deeper into your throat, “What an honour for you... aha ...to have an ultimate’s cock in your mouth, what a privilege .” his words break off into a laugh, wheezy and breathless as you take him all the way down, tears prickling in your eyes as it becomes harder to breathe. His head thumps back against the wall of the closet, cock pumping harder and faster into your open mouth as his nails dig into your scalp. You can feel drool running down your chin and dripping down to the floor, keening and moaning around his cock as you lathe the underside of the head with your tongue. 

“Who...Who knew...that this would be your one use…” Komaeda stammers, hips twitching and rolling into your mouth over and over, “is this your talent? Aha! Is sucking cock your talent?”

You make a noise of affirmation, unable to form words as he keeps relentlessly fucking into you. One of your hands slips up under your skirt and into your panties. It isn't surprising how wet you are, moaning unabashedly as you circle your swollen clit with a finger. 

“Ah... Ah! Look at you!” Komaeda exclaims, voice high and breathy as he tries to hold back another moan, “Being used like this turns you on, doesn't it? I wonder if one of those reserve course boys could do this to you.” he laughs breathlessly, “I wonder if you would let one of those reserve course boys fuck your mouth in the supply closet.” he grins down at you, eyes wild and almost unhinged, “I dont think you would, would you? I think you only want me, isn't that right?”

“Yes…” you manage to slur around him, circling your clit faster and faster, “nghh...only...you”

Your assertion only spurs him on further, hiking on leg up over your shoulder and pressing the heel of shoe hard into the wall behind you, hips stuttering forward with no discernible rhythm. You moan deep in the back of your throat and curl your arm around his thigh, feeling the muscles flex below your fingers as fucks into your mouth with unbridled desparetion. For all his talk, he seems to find your blow job abilities pretty competent.

“Don’t... ahh! ...Don’t stop-“ he groans, teeth gritted together, sweat dripping down his brow, “I...I’m gonna…” 

You’re close too. Your fingers pressing hard on your clit, circling almost brutally as you take his cock further down your throat. You can’t help but peer up at him, lording over just how thoroughly ruined he looks. Usually so neat, so clean. He looks like a perfect mess and it makes you keen around him, hips grinding harder into your own hand as you get closer and closer.

“You’re mine...all mine” Komaeda rasps, twitching and moaning, “Your mouth is mine to fuck...no-no one else can— AHHH!” 

His head collides with the wooden wall so loudly that you’re almost worried it hurts, and then he comes hard down your throat. You aren’t far behind, knees shaking and shuddering under your weight as you come tumbling over the edge, absolutely soiling your panties. There’s a filthy mixture of cum and saliva dripping out from your mouth that you swallow as best you can with Komaeda’s softening cock still in your mouth. The foot he had up against the wall slowly drops, resting gently on your shoulder instead as he catches his breath. You can see his chest rising and falling, his eyes gently closed. He’s cute when he’s not being such an asshole. 

Finally, he pulls his hips back and his cock slips out of your mouth, there isn’t too much of a mess on that front, at least nothing you can’t wipe away with the back of your hand, but your panties are another story. You’re just going to pray that they dry off a little before you have to go back to class.

Komaeda slides his leg from your shoulder and leisurely starts tucking himself back into his pants. You aren’t really sure what you’re supposed to be doing, so you just sit on the floor and wait for him to finish.

He hums, reaching down and tilting your chin up with a finger, “maybe you aren’t entirely pathetic.” he surprises you when he leans down and slots his lips against yours, flicking his tongue into your mouth, “if I’m able to make time in my busy schedule, I could shove my cock somewhere else next time.” 

You moan audibly, nodding your head with probably a little too much gusto.

Komaeda grins, all teeth and gums, and says, “I look forward to it.”

So do you.