#ive left this purposefully vague

[kore-arts]

Au Prompt!

A Throne Appears within Gotham. A sleeping man lays in it. Cold and sustained within a dome of a gentle snow storm.

The High King of the Infinite Realms has been cursed to sleep and only his soulmate shall wake him from the cursed Throne.

And those who dare come near join his eternal sleep. Frozen in Time.

[orcelito]

quick i need another 1k words to add to discacc chapter 42 bc it is 13.7k words rn and there are 485.3k words posted so current chapter count would put me at 499k words

i dont wnt to be store price label 500k words i wanna be actual 500k words!!!!! fuck!!!!!!!!1

[highvern]

Teach Me IV

extra credit

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt

Warnings: mentions of drug use (weed) and alcohol , phone sex, exchange of nudes, both are down horrendous, mutual masturbation, making out, dry humping, idiots in like, dokyeom has a praise kink and isn't ashamed, snippets of disgusting fluff

Length: ~5.1k

Note: ugh ... anyways! i know i mentioned potential angst in an ask but i'm weak

read more here

The best part of starting Fall Break on a Friday is having to do absolutely nothing for five blissful days. But because he is easily swindled by his friends, Dokyeom is ass over tits and the clock hasn’t even chimed 8PM. After the incredibly awkward week following your latest tryst, he’s thankful for the mind numbing freedom of alcohol, weed, and nothing but miles of mountain and woods.

Or he would be if wasn’t still upset you turned down his invitation to join him this weekend.

So he sneaks into his room and pulls up your Instagram. You're at the top of his results when he clicks into the search bar.

You posted a new photo this afternoon. A memory of a girls night out, sandwiched between two of your friends outside some bar, nothing but wide drunk smiles and closed eyes under the flash of the camera. Dokyeom already saw it. Already liked it. 

He keeps scrolling, down down down till he reaches his favorite picture. A frozen memory of you outside some cafe, slumped in an iron wrought chair, sunglasses obscuring half of your face; your mouth is spread over a wild guffaw, teeth flashing and the corner of your lips arched high in amusement. Whatever had amused you pulled your entire body in, shoulders curved up as your chest caves, chin tipped back. 

The soft pink sundress hugging you snugly is an added bonus. 

And somewhere in his muddled mind, Dokyeom decides he needs to talk to you. Right. Now.

After the third ring, the call connects.

“Heyyy, pretty lady.”

“Oh my god, are you drunk?” You laugh, and Dokyeom can imagine the same expression from the photo flashing across your face. 

God, she even sounds pretty. He thinks.

He whines through the goofy smile plucking the corners of his lips, “Nooooo.”

“Oh, really?”

“Maybe I’m a little drunk.”

“Only a little?” You jest.

“Maybe a lot-tle.”

“I can tell.”

“Wish you were here.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Haven’t seen you in like a week.”

If he wasn’t wasted then he might feel embarrassed, but Dokyeom finds the words slipping past him without a second thought as he rocks back and forth, caught in waves of emotion.

“How’s the cabin been so far?” 

The sudden change in topic scratches unpleasantly but he lets it go.

“Would be more fun if you were here.” He confesses. “What are you up to?”

“Laying in bed, watching Love Island.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Seriously?” You scoff.

“What?” 

“You’re so lame, Kyeom.”

“I’m curious about what you do when you’re alone.” He tries to sound innocent. “You’re alone, right?”

“Yeah, Ava left for the weekend.”

“So what are you doing this weekend?”

He’s fishing for the real reason you told him you couldn't come with him to the cabin. You’d been purposefully vague the few times Dokyeom probed since last Thursday, claiming any excuse under the sun: a friend coming to visit, getting ahead on assignments, pulling a few extra shifts at the library. Anything to avoid flat out rejection.

“You know, this and that. What about you guys? Any big plans?”

“Some of the guys mentioned a hike tomorrow. And Beer-lympics Sunday.”

“God, you’re such a frat bro.”

“I can do better.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. What are you wearing?” He tries again.

He hears you huff, “Pajamas.”

“Sexy.”

“I actually think this is your shirt.”

“Oh? Send me a pic.”

“What do I get if I do?”

“What do you want?”

“Are you hard?”

“I can be.”

“I’ll send you a picture if you send me one too.”

“Fuck, okay.” He agrees, tapping open his camera app and trying out a few angles, working himself up in the process.

Dokyeom settles for cupping the bulge over his pants, outline of his cock pronounced as he lightly squeezes. He’s highly aware of your obsession with his hands, so he tries to flex his arm forcing the web of veins to rise as the muscles clench.

“I’m waiting.” You goad on the other end of the phone, knocking him out of his concentration.

The five photos he’s snapped all look about the same. Settling on the least blurry one, he quickly opens your messages and sends it before changing his mind.

A sharp inhale announces its arrival on your phone. 

“Your turn.” 

He can hear the rustle of clothes and blankets through the speaker, and a whispered curse following a dull thud. Dokyeom can’t help the chuckle that escapes as he pictures whatever caused it.

The photo you send back takes him a second to decipher. You're definitely wearing his shirt, the bottom hem bunched across your breasts, the swells of flesh peaking out near the top of the picture; perfectly omitting your face. Tracing down your bare stomach, your hips are wrapped in powdery blue cotton panties. And if that wasn’t enough, one hand is stuffed underneath, pulling the elastic taunt across the crease in your hip as it stretches to accommodate your fingers.

Holy shit.

“You like it?”

“You're evil.” Head rolling back, Dokyeom groans as he takes it all in. “You want me dead.” 

You giggle at his tone.

“Fuck,” he mutters, continuing to study your figure. “You’re so hot.”

“Kyeomie,” you whine, obviously embarrassed under his attention.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah,” you mewl.

“Dirty girl.”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

The back and forth of your relationship is the funnest part, in Dokyeom’s opinion. You like when he puts you in your place as much as he enjoys you putting him in his. It helps that even when he assumes the more dominant role, you still praise him as if he’s the best thing since sliced bread. It scratches that submissive part of his brain that always wants needs to be good. Especially for you.

“I can think of a few things.”

“Oh? Like what?”

Phone sex is unfamiliar territory. He isn’t sure how much is too much and the awkward parting last week still stains his brain. But you just sent him a photo with your hands down your underwear so Dokyeom tries to go with the flow.

“Could make you cry on my cock.” He flushes when you remain silent for a second too long . “Sorry, that felt awkward.”

“No!” You object, voice crackling through the speaker at the sharp increase in volume. “It, ugh, that’s hot.”

“What? Crying from my dick?”

“You don’t think so?”

Dokyeom’s cock twitches, as if to signal its eager agreement.

“I think anything involving you near my penis is hot so I’m not really a good judge.”

“Well, just imagine it. Remember that time we fucked at Wonwoo and Mingyu’s house party?”

“Not appreciating you saying other dudes’ names while my dick is in my hand but yeah.”

You snicker at his reprimand. “Anyway. Remember how I wanted you to fuck my mouth?”

Dokyeom takes a sharp inhale as the memory rushes forward. You on your knees, eyes glossy and lips bruised, begging him to stretch your throat. The second the request reached his ears Dokyeom nearly came on your sweater covered chest, but he’d ignored your request, hauling your ass up onto the counter in favor of stuffing your cunt. You hadn’t complained.

“But you wouldn’t because you didn’t wanna mess up my makeup?”

“You looked pretty… didn’t wanna ruin it.”

“Yeah but I wanted you to.”

Another squeeze of his cock as he slips his hand under his boxers, “Yeah?”

“You’re really hot when you tell me what to do.”

“Fuck.” He groans, vocabulary limited by the husky timbre of your voice. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Mhhmm, doesn't feel as good as when you do it though.”

A pathetic thrust through his fist at the praise. “I know but I’ll make it up to you next time. Promise.”

“How?”

“Might tie you up. Fuck you till your screamming.” Dokyeom doesn’t know who he’s become but you seem to like it.

“Oh?”

Your reply is all breath, the same way you sign when he gives you his fingers after a long study session. The beads of pre-cum on his tip increase as he works his cock, almost able to fill the way you’d coat his fingers if he was there to give them to you.

“You like that? Want me to use your tight little pussy? Fill it up?”

“Want you to come inside me again, Minnie. So hot.”

“I know, pretty girl. So desperate for it aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” you squeak, “Are you close?”

“Send me another picture.”

Only a few seconds pass, filled with muffled groans on his end and the clack of your nails on yours. Dokyeom rushes to open the new attachment you’ve blessed him with, heart clenching when his stomach caves around a moan.

The photo is blurry from your haste but he doesn’t care. You're drenched. The crotch of your panties tinged darker as you pull them aside, flashing the way your entrance stretches around three of your fingers. Your clit just barely visible, puffy and swollen from neglect.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Minnie—” Your voice sounds far away, and he realizes you've put yourself on speaker so you can use both hands.

“Can you do something for me?” he grounds, squeezing the base of his cock to stop his impending end.

“Anything.”

Another deep breath before he lays himself bare, “Drive up here tomorrow.”

“What?” You ask, the springs of your mattress squeaking as you sit up, clearly confused by the switch in pace.

“I wanna see you.”

“I—”

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while.” Dokyeom scrambles.

Another pause before a timid, “How?”

“Whatever you want.” 

“Dangerous words.”

“Pretty sure I’ll enjoy it just as much as you.”

“I don’t know…”

“If you don’t want to, it's fine but,” he sighs, “if you can I want you to come. And not just because of sex.”

“Then why?” 

“Because I like—” He cuts himself off hastily. “Because I like spending time with you.”

As seconds tick by without response, Dokyeom is sure you're going to call his bluff. Or worse, laugh in his face. He’s sweating, heart beating irregularly as he waits for your reply.

“Really?” Shyness creeps into your voice.

Dokyeom nods before realizing you can’t see him. “Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll come.”

“Really?” Dokyeom asks, eyes wide and jaw slack. No way it's this easy.

“Really,” he can hear you smile. “But only because you said you’d give me whatever I want.”

“You’re gonna make me regret that aren’t you?”

“Absolutely.” You tease, enunciating each syllable as his heart beats in time. “But Kyeomie…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m still wet.”

“Can’t have that.” He tsks.

“Please,”

“Be a good girl and play with your clit.” Dokyeom instructs, slipping right back in.

A hitch in your breath precludes a satisfied “hmmm”. He wishes he could taste both on his tongue. 

“Touch yourself too.” You plea.

Dokyeom’s wound so tight a gust of wind would have his load all over his stomach. He tells you as much.

“Shiiit” You curse, catching up to him. “Close.”

“Yeah? Think you deserve it?”

If he was there, Dokyeom knows he’d see the frustrated kick of your legs and feel the daggers shooting from your eyes.

“You ignored me all last week, I don’t know if I should let you.”

“Dokyeom, please!”

“But since I get to see you tomorrow.” he tuts, covering up the catch of his breath as you plea again. “Let me hear it.”

The call devolves into choked curses and groans. He keeps the screen close to his face as he focuses back on the picture you sent, painting his fist with streaks of white as you beg him to cum, choke on how much you want to taste. Your stuttered “ah”s floating right into his ears as you twist and shake in your bed hours away.

When Dokyeom can feel himself returning to his body, he soaks in the lull of you catching your breath.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” You sigh dreamily.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Send me the address.”

“Oh and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy you’re coming…”

“Goodnight,” you chuckle at the double entendre.

“Night.”

Even with the satisfaction of an orgasm coursing through his veins, the fizzing bubbles of happiness in his chest have nothing to do with the cum cooling in his underwear.

--

The drive to the cabin is two hours and thirty seven nerve wrecking minutes. Dokyeom has been up since six, texting you the address, asking you to let him know when you left, keep him updated on any pit stops you needed to make. Not to rush up the mountain and drive safely. 

The digital clock on your dash reads just past noon as you slowly creep up a narrow gravel road, praying another car doesn’t swoop around the bend. Of course a pack of frat boys would choose some creepy woods to set up camp for a long weekend. 

You dial Dokyeom’s number just to be safe. Barely a full ring passes before he picks it up.

“Hey!”

“Hey… I think I’m pulling up to the right place?” You scan for any sign of a driveway on either side of the road without any luck. 

“Oh shit, I’ll come outside. Jun got us lost yesterday when he drove up so it’s tricky.”

Taking a left as you finally spot the red mailbox with a beaver carved into the dark wooden post at the end of the lengthy driveway, a two story cabin comes into view between the trees. Dokyeom jogs from the porch to meet you at the edge of the yard. Rolling down your window as he makes his way over, you greet him.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” he smiles, bright enough to blind a village.

“Um, where should I park?” 

“Just pull up behind anyone, it doesn't matter.”

“Alright.” 

Dokyeom walks next to you as you pull in behind a white sedan. Once in park, you pop the trunk before slipping out the door. He already has your bag tossed over his shoulder, tangling your fingers with his as he pulls you towards the house.

“Some of the guys went on a hike earlier so I’ve been helping Seungkwan and Mingyu clean up.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to wait for me.”

“I wanted to.”

Before you can think too much on that statement, Seungkwan interrupts by tackling you in a hug. 

“Oh thank god you’re here.” 

“Hi to you too.” You say, carrying his weight as he goes boneless.

“Hi,” he responds with a squeeze, before turning to Dokyeom with a blunt, “Goodbye.” 

Seungkwan pulls you inside the front door, beelining for the sliding glass doors that lead to the back porch.

“Hey!”

Without slowing, Seungkwan fends him off. “She was my friend first!”

“Yeah well,” Dokyeom flounders like a washed up fish.

“You dazzle with words. Now go away.” Seungkwan sniffs.

Sending an apologetic smile over your shoulder, you allow Seungkwan to usher you along. You spot another person in the kitchen, face shadowed by the hood of his sweater. He doesn’t look up when you and Seungkwan shuffle pass.

“Ignore Mingyu, his girlfriend broke up with him yesterday.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah, anyway.” Seungkwan plops onto one of the chairs circled around the patio table. “Speaking of girlfriends—”

“Did you finally get one?”

“Being mean is bad for your health.” He deadpans. “As I was saying, did Dokyeom ask you to be his?”

“His what?”

“His girlfriend.”

Your ears ring at the nonchalance in Seungkwan’s tone.

“Why would he ask me to be his girlfriend?”

“Why else would you get up at the ass crack of dawn to come to this dump?”

“He said he wanted me to come.” You answer, turning your head to observe the lake beyond the thin tree line.

“After you told him no? Wow, didn’t realize he was that good in bed.”

Your hands itch to circle his neck and shake but Seungkwan is saved by the very man in question.

“Hate to interrupt but I thought you might want some coffee?”

You turn around, smiling as Dokyeom leans out of the sliding glass door, “Yeah, that sounds great.”

“We aren’t done talking!” Seungkwan calls as you reach the door.

“I am!”

Mingyu apparently retreated to his room after you stepped outside, nowhere to be found in the kitchen or living room beyond the counter.

The isolation makes you nervous which is strange because it’s just Dokyeom. But his words last night over the phone, coupled with Seungkwan’s on the porch twist your guts uncomfortably. 

It’s too late to bail. You can’t claim illness since Dokyeom will fawn over you like some mother hen. Besides, you don’t actually want to leave. You just can’t stand the nagging voice in the back of your head insisting this isn’t what friends do. Even if said friends are having sex. 

“Wanna show me your room?” 

“Sure!” Dokyeom is still cheery, eagerly leading you upstairs and down a maze of hallways. 

The outside of the cabin, while daunting, failed to betray how big it actually is as you pass door after door on your journey.

The room Dokyeom is sharing with Soonyoung is cozy. Two full sized beds with little room for anything else and an en suite the size of a closet. But at least you won’t have to battle it out with anyone else for a bathroom during the next three days. 

Dokyeom was lucky enough to claim the bed closests to the bay windows, framing a pleasant view of the backyard, dock, and sprawling lake. When you step closer, you can spot Seungkwan’s mop of hair as he leans on the edge of the railing that borders the porch; hand animated as the other holds his phone near his mouth.

Turning back to the bed, you spot your bag on the floor at the foot of it. The room is ten degrees hotter when you realize Dokyeom was lying right there as he talked you through an orgasm barely twelve hours ago. You awkwardly shuffle on your feet as you try to find something to say.

Dokyeom seems unperturbed, flopping onto the mattress, arms thrown wide in invitation. A shy grin twists your lips. Hair a mess, and cheeks flushed, Dokyeom looks cute. He’s always cute but navy crew neck and gray sweats transforms him into a cozy dream. The mattress dips under your knee as you crawl to lay next to him.

Settling your head over his heart, arms twining around one another, you feel your own give a peculiar squeeze. It’s truly no different than all the other times you’ve cuddled, albeit those were post-coitous; except it is. Dokyeom told you he wanted you here, that he likes spending time with you, and now he’s squeezing the life out of you as he snags one of your legs to wrap around his waist.

When sleep tickles your nose, pleasantly warm and inviting, you ignore how Dokyeom isn’t your boyfriend. What you have right now is perfect enough.

—

The sweet hum of Dokyeom’s voice lulls you awake, a simple melody you vaguely recognize from his playlist he insists on blasting during your hangouts. Gray light from outside casts the room sullenly dark. Storm clouds, swollen to a near black, eclipse the late afternoon sun. Dokyeom’s neck is the perfect place to escape the unavoidable sounds of the cabin filled with life, eyes firmly shut as you inhale the smell of laundry detergent and pine. 

One of your hands managed to twist under his sweater in your sleep, fisting his thin T-shirt as you attempt to beckon sleep out of hiding and back towards you. A pathetic whine escapes when Dokyeom jostles you in an attempt to find a more comfortable position, only silenced by his lips against your forehead and his stroking your elbow.

“Shhhh,” he coos. “Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?”

“Like five.”

Lifting back from his neck, you pout. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

A gentle peck to your lips in response leaves you speechless, a soft quirk to his lips as you gape. Collapsing back into his chest you’re left to bask in each other's presence as you take to silently drawing shapes on his stomach, smiling as he giggles from ticklishness. His thumb traces the curves of your hip, digging to the soft flesh of your waist.

A banging on the door makes you both jump out of your skin before Seungkwan’s voice cuts the air. “Come on love birds, dinners ready!”

“If we don’t get up, do you think he’ll go away?” Dokyeom whispers into your hair.

“No.” 

On queue the door flies open, smacking against the wall and rebounding into Seungkwan’s face.

“I said it's time for dinner. Now get your asses up!”

“Go away, Boo!” You demand, chucking a pillow in his direction.

“What happened to respecting your elders?” Dokyeom asks, eyes sharp as he tries to kill the younger man with his eyes.

“When my elder does something respectable, I’ll consider it.” Seungkwan claps. “Now chop chop!” 

The dinner Seungkwan so adamantly demanded your presence at is a huge pot of spaghetti and some loaves of garlic bread. Nothing overly complex but the bustling atmosphere downstairs is nice, comfortable.

Dokyeom introduces you to some of the fraternity members you haven’t met, as well as their dates. Squished between him and Seungkwan at the dining table, you barely engage in conversation. Not that you need to. They both fill the space with their own joking easily enough.

Instead, your mind focuses on the warmth of Dokyeom’s shoulder brushing yours, and how he rests his arm on the back of your chair once he finishes his plate. 

When the mess is cleared away, a few people scurrying off to who knows where, Soonyoung insists on a game of Beerio Kart as dessert. Excited to have a new person to torment, he drags you to the couch before you can object. In a blink, you find yourself wedged between the armrest and Dokyeom as he explains the game.

“The rules are simple my friends! No drinking and driving and you have to finish your drunk before the race ends. If you fail to do so you’ll be publicly shamed.” Soonyoung claps his hands together, the maniacal glint in his eyes a little too intense for such a silly game. 

“And for additional chaos,” Seungkwan adds. “I’ve changed it to blue shells only.” 

“Now may the best driver win!”

“Alright, the first round is Jun, Marci, Sam, and me.”

“This is gonna be a bloodbath.” Someone calls from the other couch.

And it is. Jun uses height to hold Seungkwan’s drink out of the younger man’s reach, resulting in Seungkwan launching himself from the couch in a flying kick. They’re both so occupied with one another they don’t notice the race is long finished and neither of their characters moved past the starting line.

A chorus of boos rises as the race times out, designating them as 11th and 12th place.

“Alright, next is DK, Y/N, Wonwoo, and myself.”

“Can I forfeit?”

Dokyeom turns to you. “You wanna quit already?” 

“Considering my opponents, yes.”

“New rule: no quitting allowed.” Soonyoung interjects.

“You can’t make that a rule!”

“I just did!” 

You respond with a thumbs down, much more effective than the middle finger you want to throw his way.

“It’s okay if you’re scared, Y/N.” Wonwoo taunts from across the room. 

“I’m not scared!”

“That’s exactly what someone who is scared would say!” Soonyoung chimes in.

Dokyeom just shrugs his shoulders when you look at him for assistance. Figures. He’s part of the reason you don’t want to play. He and his roommate rile each other up too much under normal circumstances, let alone when things get competitive and alcohol is involved.

“Fine, let's play!”

Soonyoung divvies out another round of lukewarm beer cans you’re required to drink as Wonwoo picks the track. N64 Rainbow Road because apparently he’s an asshole. The way he reclines back in his seat confirms it.

To avoid the inevitable mess Dokyeom will make in his haste to chug before the race begins, you stand, shuffling closer to the safe zone at the edge of the coffee table. He tugs at the back of your shirt for a second, prompting you to shake your head. 

Dokyeom pouts but stays silent. 

“Alright lady and gentlemen! Start. Your. Engines!”

Cracking open your can the second the countdown begins on screen, you gag at the taste of cheap beer as everyone whoops around you. You manage half the can before you have to stop under the threat of it coming back up. Dokyeom and Soonyoung are still drinking, the later shuffling in place restlessly. Wonwoo hasn’t even opened his beer, focusing on getting as far ahead as he can.

Hopefully Seungkwan’s meddling takes care of him.

The race track is chaos as you press your character forward, occasionally blown off course by a blue shell moving to knock out whoever is in first. Half way through the course, you chance a glance at the other corners of the TV. Soonyoung and Dokyeom have finally started lap one, only for Soonyoung to fly over the edge at the first turn and wait to be rescued. Wonwoo is caught in the mess at the front of the pack, only able to maintain first for a fraction of a second before being sniped by a shell. 

Once you round the third lap, you take your chance. Stopping in a corner of the track to down the rest of your drink, hoping everyone is too engrossed in the events on screen to see you start moving despite still swallowing a mouth full of beer. 

This is when you see Wonwoo make his mistake. He pauses right before the finish line, cracking his can open and nearly choking on the large gulps in his haste. You're gaining quickly, barely a quarter of the last lap remains between your carts. When he finally finishes the can and picks up the controller, you unleash the blue shell you’d been saving. Rosalina goes flying as you sail by, Yoshi claiming fifth place.

“Suck it!” You scream, jumping up and down in victory; joined by Seungkwan who hollers with you as if he won too.

Wonwoo is shell-shocked, literally. He finishes seventh overall, pulling behind another computer character. Soonyoung is on the floor as he and Dokyeom fight for second to last place. The shame goes to Soonyoung as the race times out once again.

When you turn back to the couch you're met with another blinding smile as you drop into his lap. 

“Looooooserrrr,” you taunt as you flick his nose gently.

“Yeah whatever.”

“It’s okay, maybe I can teach you sometime.”

He laughs, squeezing you into his chest. “God, you’re annoying.” 

“It’s so lonely at the top.” You furrow your brow in mock sorrow.

Another race ensues, more chaos and screaming echoing through the living room. The heat of Dokyeom’s chest sinks through the back of your hoodie, strong plains of muscle shaking as he laughs with the group. When Seungkwan and Soonyoung face each other in a rematch you tempt Dokyeom upstairs, kissing behind his ear before leaning back and giving him the “look.”

The “I-want-your-dick-in-my-mouth” look.

Of which he very is familiar.

Dokyeom lurches forward, eager to appease, forgetting you're still in his lap until your weight knocks him back down. Shaking your head you stand and pull him up behind you, moving towards the stairs uninterrupted as Seungkwan and Soonyoung threaten each other's life and limb behind you.

Tacky wood shiplap digs into your spine uncomfortable as Dokyeom crowds you against the wall. His lips ghost along your jaw, hands on either side of your head to prevent him from crushing you. You don’t have the same concern, pulling him closer with the fabric of his sweater. The door to his room is a few feet to your left but the idea of separating for even a second to make it inside is pure agony.

“What does the winner want for her prize?” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Depends.” You sigh, grinding against the bulge of his thigh. 

“On?”

“If my prize is separate from what I get for driving up here.”

Dokyeom nips your chin, dodging your attempt to connect your mouths.

“Depends on what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“I’m gonna do that anyway.”

“I wasn’t done yet.”

He stays silent, teeth bruising the sliver of shoulder peeking out under your collar.

“I want you to fuck me,” cut of with a hiss at his vigor, “and I want to film it.”

Backing out of your neck, Dokyeom blinks at you, mouth wide.

Peeking at him through your eyelashes, you wait for Dokyeom’s brain to restart. His mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. Not a rejection or an agreement. Just surprise.

A heaviness curls in your gut. You thought he’d like the idea, especially from his reaction to the pictures you sent last night. And the videos he’s sent over the months you’ve been hooking up. Videos of him jacking off, cumming on his own stomach, your name on his lips. But maybe you assumed too much.

“Ifyoudon’twanttowedon—”

But a scream interrupts your rant as he lifts you by your thighs, ankles locking around the top of his butt and arms tangling around his neck like a koala. You hold on for dear life as he carries you down the hallway.

Palming your ass harshly with one hand, the other scrambles to open the door as he licks up your neck. The door rattles on its hinges as he kicks it shut but the blood rushing through your ears muffles it.

“Yes, yes. Holy shit, yes.” He’s whining into your ear, hips rutting into your core as he lands unceremoniously on the bed, crushing you underneath him.

You’re shocked for a second, woefully unprepared for his enthusiasm. But another harsh rush against you, coupled with his hands pawing up your shirt to palm your chest makes you bold.

Two things you know to be true about Dokyeom: 

First, he has a ragging praise kink. If you tell him he’s a good boy, he can come almost untouched.

Second, he loves the sight of his cum streaking across your body.

He was right to say he’ll enjoy this as much as you will.

“Yeah? Wanna come on my face?”

Another pathetic whine against your neck as he keeps curling his clothed cock against you. All of his weight settles between your hips as drives you to madness.

“Then go lock the door.”

[yesloulou]

all the rumour vague posting made me feel both stressed about daniel but also excluded. it’s silly to feel this way about my unserious hobby but it just felt like everyone is in a club without me. idk sorry to put this on you but you’re the first person ive seen speak against rumour spreading. i just feel left out in a way this fandom has never made me feel before

noo :((((( yesterday was a combination of people being purposefully secretive bc they were told to be and a very few probably genuinely enjoy making others feel excluded bc it makes them feel good about themselves or whatever, which obvi has everything to do with them and nothing to do with anybody else. it's not silly to feel bc feelings are so important and sports unfortunately is serious. people who have the luxury of enjoying sports casually their time would've been better spent elsewhere anyway. and if you like daniel enough to be stressed about him then you're literally in the same club with me by default sooo <3

[theseance444]

“i heard the nurses talking in the corridor.” @accordedxneautralxterritory

TW: addiction, overdose, medical stuff.

@accordedxneutralxterritory

It had been a rough night. At least, that's what it felt like. Mouth dry, head aching, stomach churning, Klaus couldn't remember much of the night before--just going to the club on his day off, meeting up with a dealer. The pills he'd gotten must've been laced with something else, something far too strong. The last thing he remembered was popping those damn pills.

Diego had already come by to lecture him, called as his emergency contact. But they'd gotten into an argument, as Klaus was not in the mood, and Diego left, saying he'd be back when Klaus got his head out of his ass. Fair enough.

As soon as Klaus got his phone back, he was texting Jo, saying he might not make it to work tonight. He'd had an "accident" that landed him in the hospital, he'd explained, keeping it purposefully vague. But he should've known Jo would come.

Gaunt and pale, with an IV and wires stuck to his chest under the hospital gown, Klaus didn't want her to see him like this. But before he knew it, the door was being pushed open.

"I heard the nurses talking in the corridor."

Whatever weak joke he was about to make immediately fell flat. She knew it wasn't some vague "accident", but an overdose. Klaus grimaced, not looking her in the eye as shame blossomed in his chest.

"Oh...hey Jo," he rasped, trying and failing to sound casual. "Sorry, I uh, I think I gotta call out tonight."

[warrioreowynofrohan]

Les Misérables 1.2.6 - Jean Valjean

A few things stood out to me that I hadn’t noticed on previous reads.

Firstly, the way the narration shifts when it describes the theft of the bread. Before and after that, the perspective is focused on Valjean. For that moment, though, it switches to:

One Sunday night, Maubert Isabeau, the baker on Place de l’Eglise, in Faverolles, was just going to bed when he heard a violent blow against the barred window of his shop. He got down in time to see an arm thrust through the aperture made by the blow of a fist on the glass. The arm seized a loaf of bread and took it out. Isabeau rushed out; the thief used his legs valiantly; Isabeau pursued him and caught him. The thief had thrown away the bread, but his arm was still bleeding. It was Jean Valjean.

There’s an unusual level of detail - not that detail is unusual for Hugo, but we get the full name and address of the baker, which we don’t get for any of Valjean’s nieces or nephews. There’s also a kind of depersonalization of Valjean: first with the description as a disembodied body part, “the arm”, then as “the thief”. Only after that identity is established is his name given. It feels, in the detailed narration of events from the baker’s perspective, like the testimony given at a trial - the gist of the testimony, perhaps, that Isabeau did give to the tribunal. It conveys how everything about Valjean as a person, and his reasons, and his family, is dismissed, with these isolated facts being what the trial considers relevant and important.

Secondly, Napoleon come up again.

On the 22nd of April, 1796, there was announced in Paris the victory of Montenotte, achieved by the commanding-general of the army of Italy, whom the message of the Directory, to the Five Hundred, of the 2nd Floréal, year IV, called Buonaparte; that same day a great chain was riveted at the Bicêtre. Jean Valjean was part of this chain.

The combination of this with the mentions in the first section of this chapter makes me more convinced that Hugo’s focus is a contrast in what society values (as with the ‘good man’ and the ‘great man’ in Myriel’s comment). The question Hugo is evoking is: what makes a nation great? What speaks to its identity? What should it take pride in? What should it aspire to? The achievements of a ‘great man’ like Napoleon, or the way it treats the least and lowest in its society? Combeferre responding to Marius’ Bonapartist rant - What could be greater than this? - with “To be free” is the answer to this central thematic question.

Thirdly, Valjean only hears of his sister’s family once, when he learns that she is in Paris, in severe poverty, with only one child, the youngest, a boy of six who is left outside in the cold on winter mornings before his school opens. He learns this, the narrator says, “I think, at the end of his fourth year of confinement” (purposefully vague, since the author/narrator could know whatever precision he chose to). Right after this, we move to Valjean’s first escape attempt, “near the end of this fourth year”. This suggests strongly to me that Valjean’s first attempt to escape was due to this news, out of a desire to go to his sister and help her, which makes everything even more tragic.

[tippedarrows]

sorry if ive been dumping your asks with random stuff but i just finished mcsm s2 today and holy cow? i have some grievances but s2e4 was PEAK i was screaming nearly the whole time. i never saw an ending with jack not there but i somehow still believed he would die when i chose not to give up my sword... i was full on terrified... and learnin about romeo, fred, and xara? like, i've only read some stuff while vaguely avoiding s2 content but i deadass felt so bad for them (especially romeo until he blew up champion city which. i still felt bad! but definitely less "he might be just like me fr"). they could've done so much more if they only had more time and budget i think but the heart and passion is there and thats what i love the most!

my bestie kept telling me that i'm too nice during my playthrough because of my choices with stella and romeo... but he grew to be fine with stella and thats a win for me.

i'm kinda curious about other's playthroughs... what memorable choices did you make :? i purposefully chose to make the ocelots fight romeo because i heard lukas gets thrown around. 👻

Oh my god I'm so glad you actually got to finish it. Now you'll be able to understand a better half of the mcsm fandom. I'm so glad it got you.

As for my choices, I'm going to replay it again one day, but .. I follow through with giving up the sword for Jack. Before that, Nurm was left behind in place of Xara for me, and Petra was Romeo's Champion.

It was mostly super diplomatic... Wanted to redeem Romeo at any costs, I know that much. And as for the very end, I chose to stay in Beacontown.

Fun fact: Eric Stirpe, a creator of mcsm, said that the ownership of Beacontown if Jesse was to go with Petra, would be handed over to *Lukas* and not Radar.

I find that as an interesting little fun fact to add! It sounds like you made some great choices, though!!

[randomwriteronline]

Krakua thoughts... Krakua thoughts? Krakua thoughts. Krakua thoughts

Since thinking of human!Krakua as albino ive decided he cant see for SHIT. my boy can distinguish Colors and Vague Shapes and that is IT. He can read only if he squashes his face on the tablet or someone reads out loud. this does mean that the details he finds important and the physical descriptions he gives are very funny tho. like Axonn is "very wide, big hands, silver-red-black", Mazeka is "small, goes vroom, white-grey", and Jerbraz is "noisy"

Speaking of Jerbraz, hes the one Krakua is usually assigned to when Helryx decides to send him on a mission. Partly bc they get along fine, partly bc Jerbraz has a sort of "least likely to hurl the boy through the roof by accident" babysitter feeling about him, partly bc who can sneak better into places than a permanently invisible guy and a dude who can just Not Make Sound

Also Jerbraz is easily Krakuas fav member of the order. Like a large fucked up invisible cousin who can and will kill for you if you ask him nicely

Second favorite is Axonn. Big hamds comforble. Perfect to nap in

He used to be incredibly soft spoken due to Loud Sound Will Kill Us All but has since grown into speaking at varying volumes between normal and deafening, though if greatly distressed he will go back to barely perceivable whispers

I do think he absorbs all sound all the time as a reflex, at least in part to avoid fucking Dying (sound cant hurt him in the lethal way it used to when he was a matoran anymore but you know, the trauma of everyone he knows dying due to loud noise might have left some lasting impact. Just guessing). He doesnt get overwhelmed by the build up of elemental energy bc hes constantly making noise purposefully or not so hes in a sort of feedback loop where he supplies his own noise to absorb so he can make more noise etc etc

He loves being around people! People are mildly terrified of him. It doesnt help that hes very sneaky and will show up Anywhere uninvited no matter how krakua-proofed one makes the place. He crawls in like hi guys what are we doing :D and everybody else has a heart attack

I cant get over the idea of him meeting Jaller and being so immensely excited about finally having a chance to experience a sonar so he can replicate it that hes just like BLAST ME BLAST ME BLAST ME (sonar blast) (the worst 15 seconds of his life) OURGHHHHH OK IM GOOD DO THAT AGAIN (sonar blast) (another properly horrendous 15 seconds) AURGHRHHHHHH and Jaller is like "can i stop" and Krakua goes NO ANOTHER TIME IVE ALMOST GOT IT (sonar blast) EIURGRAGURGHHHHHHHH

I may have mentioned it before but Krakua is fucking brutal in combat. Sparring with members of the order could kill a weaker being very easily and he refuses to tone the intensity down in actual fights because hes learned the best enemy is the one whos knocked out cold on the ground where they cant bother you anymore! He's been taught to try and not kill whenever possible since hes still a Toa and not technically fully affiliated with the order, but they do still need to get their hands dirty so he has full permission to torture, scar, threaten, gravely injure, break, debilitate or overall traumatize opponents if he deems it necessary or useful. You can see why other people might be scared of him

Also bc i think of him often being all up in peoples faces due to shit eyesight, lots of excitement and very poor socialization i for some reason have imagined him all over that boy like some kinda lovestruck siren. Third time his captain of the guard charms strike. Bitches love a man who can never die correctly ig

Flapper girl. Thats it thats the thought

Related to that, a fight with him is like a rhythm game in hell. Its a rhythm game for him bc hes hitting every clue flawlessly. Its hell for his opponent bc theyre getting beaten within an inch of their life

In somewhat direct relation to the above, he should also have Something going on with Tobduk. I dont mean friendship or romance or rivalry or mentorship i need something more sinister. Its about their similar backgrounds and trauma and their place so strangely close to Helryx's side. Some kind of grim feeling between them, like a sense of terrible inevitability. You will be me. You will become me. You already are me. It pervades everything when they're in each others presence. Tobduk finds some kind of cosmic irony in it. Krakua doesnt like it. They speak of it in long uncomfortable silences, mental shields rendering the Suletu's powers null, and it's very unpleasant.

His staff should be hollow so he can play it like a didgeridoo. Imagine being in a fight with some willowy kid and he pulls his staff to his mouth and a loud wooaoaooo sound just fucking crushes you against a rock. Thatd be baller

I think he has. Some mildly morbid thing about destiny. He doesnt really have a duty nor unity so instead he leans hard into the third virtue and more specifically the whole "there is an unavoidable reason for why everything happens" aspect of destiny, because it makes terrible things like the mass murder of his village and the possible repeat of that situation with the Order of Mata Nui (if you interpret him becoming "the lone hero of a besieged island fortress" as all other members but him dying) more bearable. Maybe once he meets his destiny he will just wait to die, because what needed to happen happened and he has no purpose anymore. Maybe he will be caught in a loop where his destiny keeps fulfilling itself over and over, because he keeps seeking out the requirements to fulfill it whether hes conscious of it or not.

[godza]

ive gone too deep into oshi no ko to stop forever, but dont read it. its not good. i wont write a review, but ive read all currently released chapters tonight and it was a total waste of my time. because, surprise incest subplot. the twins knew each other before they reincarnated, and ruby was a 12 year old girl who had a crush on aqua, who was a 30 year old doctor. weird. aqua flippantly agreed to possibly marry her once she was of age, probably because she was going to die soon. in a recent chapter, aqua and ruby have found out each others past identities. and guess what, ruby still has that crush. WHO IS NOW HER FUCKING BROTHER.

ill kill the author? why on earth is this something reasonable to include even if aqua rejects her. even in the next chapter, their friends are unnerved by their sudden clingy behavior. this series is just really gross with all the incest undertones. her line can be interpreted in different ways, but its purposefully left vague. i wont even get into aquas total oedipus complex obsession with his mother, thats a whole other can of worms. i wish i hadnt wasted my time reading this series only for it to be a total slog. i miss akane. where is she im scared

[dreamsy990]

ive been thinking about danganronpa recently and fuck it i know this has been said before but i hate how dr1 and dr2 go out of their way not to explain elements of the story because "it doesnt matter how it happened, it simply did" and then the dr3 anime tried to explain these points that were purposefully left vague. it doesnt fucking matter and giving them an explanation just cheapens them especially when the anime didn't have the time to flesh it out beyond 'oh no its all brainwashing'

[xxxjarchiexxx]

im gonna be purposefully vague to avoid any possibility of doxxing myself cuz of the paranoias i have but it is jarring to see the impact that zionist propaganda has in just my immediate town. i live in a small liberal town that afaik hasn't had any antisemetic incidents in 5 years and the one instance 5 years ago was mild graffiti, no violence or threats of violence. and yet, there's such a huge police presence all of a sudden in my town around jewish institutions that support israel. the antizionist jewish celebrations have 0 official acknowledgement much less police presence because they don't need it but also because we are the expendable and unruly jews in the eyes of the state. our candlelight vigils even get a ton of police harassment, despite them being held by jewish groups in a public square where it is it allowed. meanwhile, jewish community centers and synagogues that support israel have police cars posted and the menorah lighting that's sponsored by a zionist synagogue has police presence. and this is NEW, ive lived here almost 7 years and there's never been this many cops at any event regardless of who was doing it or at any place of worship or any community center. and it's confirmed it was because zionist rabbis and organizers have fully embraced the zionist propaganda that they are under attack by the antisemetic left, even when that left is also jewish and just trying to be jewish in peace, we aren't the Good Jews so we must be the Enemy. it's so jarring.

[bonesandthebees]

So where do I start with the limited time I have? Oh yeah, the flashback! Bee how dare you! How dare you how dare you how dare you! I can’t believe you gave us a flashback from Zephys IV. I can’t believe you gave us a flashback of Phil after the fight with Tommy. I can’t believe that’s the most fucked up we’ve seen Wilbur be after the fight and it was in a flashback. I love it though. I got so excited when I realised it wasn’t a Niki flashback, but a Phil one.

I also feel like it’s on the longer side for a flashback. It’s somewhere between medium and long which really stands out in comparison to the length of the one from last chapter. There are a few meta reasons. 1. More of that bittersweet feeling by reminding us what Wilbur (and Tommy) left on Zephys IV. 2. Anyone who hadn’t realised Phil cared past the unreliable narrator, now gets a lot at his past behaviour again. And it’s so clear that Phil cares and knows Wilbur is out of it and is just content to let him do whatever.

3. Now that it’s over and fully resolved, once again showing us how much the fight messed Wilbur up. As well as 4. Showing us how much the invasion messed Wilbur up because that’s the nightmare he woke up from and he’s so out of it. He was so scared of this, which just adds to the rest of the fear he feels through the rest of the chapter. 5. Being able to slap us in the face by going from the flashback/dream straight into the boys getting gagged and dragged off to their execution. We feel just as disoriented. It’s just great.

I want to pick apart the content of the flashback too, because there’s just so much extra tiny details there, I does actually add depth to their relationship and I get why you didn’t put it in chronological order (it would stand out too much if you want to make the reader doubt if any of it was really long with Wilbur and Tommy), I just don’t have the time right now. So expect many an ask over the next few days (spread out only if I can contain myself (so probably not at all)).

Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful day, Bee.

-🌲

yeahhhhhh the flashback was definitely meant to make you guys hurt lmaooo. I really wanted to make the impending execution hit so much harder than it was already going to

it definitely came out longer than I expected! I wanted to really throw the reader into the flashback and remind them of what things were like only a few chapters before. how different things were then compared to now. a start reminder of what wilbur and tommy left behind only to be sent to their deaths. and then of course the disorientation when wilbur wakes up and is immediately gagged was fun to add too

yeah I purposefully left some of those in between days when wilbur and tommy were still fighting as vague because I wanted to have room to include other scenes like this as flashbacks. it would've stood out too much in the flow of the story if it put it in chronological order, but it works super well as a flashback

hope you have a wonderful day too spruce!!

[pheonix-inside]

I love no longer being super crazy over ships. So glad I outgrew that. Now I'm able to chill with fics where everyone's best friends, I have an easier time multishipping, overall the fandom experience is more fun now.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✫ INTRO 

✩ welcome to my first (and likely last.. Lol) collab for a milestone. im not an organized enough person to do such a thing ever again but ive wanted to do one for a while. and corruption is a very beloved trope to me - so here we are. we hit 12k pretty recently (which... is insane. thank you for that) and now we’re here. 

✩ the theme for this collab is corruption. like it says, lol. but ive left it purposefully simple and vague because i want to encourage people to be creative and stretch their writing. so corruption isn’t limited to sexual corruption. 

✩ moral bankruptcy whether that be sexual, physical, political etc. power imbalances, bribery, crime etc - all sorts of things fall under it so i encourage you do whatever you feel like it. 

✩ corruption exists in several genres too so that’s something to think about!

✩ and while the theme is corruption, there are indeed laws to abide for said collab so here are those!!

✫ RULES FOR ENTERING 

✩ must be 18+ to enter. you should already be 18+ if you’re following me, but u might not follow me yk. 18+ or i gotta cut you off, sorry! accesessible age (even just ‘not a minor’) works!

✩ send me an ask off anon or with your url somewhere if u don’t want to expose ur main. tumblr eats my messages all the time (sorry if ur finding out like this :/) so i’d prefer to have everything in one place. 

✫ GUIDELINES FOR THE WORK ITSELF 

✩ both sfw and nsfw are allowed but all characters must be contextually written as 18 or over regardless of canon age. 

✩ given the theme of this collab - i both expect and welcome dark content. do what feels right - but any and all dark content must have proper tags and warnings. be mindful and use common sense. 

✩ all work should be at least 1k in length. but they can be anything. there is not a hard deadline for this fic (i.e. im going to set one but it doesn’t rlly matter it’s just there for people who want it) only bc i want to curate fics

✩ additionally - fic accessibility. while you’re free to format your fic intro / tags etc. however you want, the main body of your work should be readable i.e. in normal font. i know that seems strict but reading small font hurts my eyes ://  sorry!!! u can use small font for the warnings tags summary etc but ye.

✩ repeats for characters are allowed! 

✩ any fandoms are welcome (bnha, jjk, aot, haikyuu, tokyorev, kny, knb, csm etc.,) and any kind of pairing. x reader, ship stuff etc. whatever suits your fancy. 

✩ all works should be tagged with #pbk.corruption so i can sift through them as well as tagging me / sending me an ask once you’ve posted! it might take me time to put the masterlist together bc im a mess so bear w me. 

✩ basically i am saying to go ham. i really want to see people having fun and stretching their creativity so im looking forward it and to reading peoples pieces.  and don’t worry if you need to drop later on!!!! ik it can be a lot and i do want this to be fun. 

SOFT DEADLINE ;; SEPT 13TH, 2022 

SIGNS UP CLOSE JUNE 5TH, 2022!

MASTERLIST 

[kaygee-doodles]

What happens if MC gets really sick, like she only has a few months left to live? What will the skeletons do?

TW: Illness, future death, vague medical stuff below the cut

“i wish i had better news,” Sci, the multiverses best 'science sans', passed a stack of result pages to you. You flipped through them listlessly, already knowing what they meant, even if you didn't understand the jargon it was printed in.

“It's okay. Green said the same thing,” you sighed. The Gaster+Papyrus blend hadn't had to deal with the entire Doom and Gloom crew staring him down as he gave the news, just Dust. Then, the second opinion, a proficient healer from a Swap verse, had to deal with Dust and Horror. Then began the almost frantic universe hopping. The searching. The late nights buried in books and behind screens. Phone calls to every contact Nightmare had, and a few he didn't. All while you sat in the background, feeling worse. And worse.

The search started eight months ago. The most optimistic evidence gave you four more. Maybe.

You didn't feel like you had four months left. You were tired all the time, but unable to sleep. Hungry, but you couldn't keep much down. Everything ached. You couldn't stand without feeling dizzy. Always cold.

Changes had been made to the castle to accommodate. The living room in the castle was boxed in now, couches and chairs forming three 'walls' around several mattresses and an ungodly amount of pillows and blankets. A nest, the softest thing you've ever laid in. There was always a skeleton keeping you company as well, always eager to bundle you up and let you curl in close. You think they only slept when you did. If they did, it was a light sleep. Any movement from you and they were up, asking what you needed, pressing a bucket into your arms or an extra blanket over your legs. A wheelchair was procured from...somewhere, for the days you felt up to sitting at the table for a meal, or needed a bathroom for...human things.

Nightmare gently plucked the papers from your hands as Horror bundled you back into a blanket burrito. The black skeleton flipped through the pages, much like you had, but with greater understanding of what they meant. His teal eyelight slit in displeasure as he thumbed through the numbers. They were all lower than last time. Nearby, pills and gold changed hands.

You blinked, and suddenly you were being set down in your next. Your looked around in surprise as Horror smiled grimly.

“lost you...for a bit there.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. It was jarring, to blip around like that, though you weren't really jumping through time. You were told you just sort of fell asleep, but stayed upright. Like a sleepwalker with no dream to act out.

“think you can...hold somethin' down for me?”

No, but you had to try. The twice-daily IV treatments helped, but didn't work as well as actual food.

“Yeah.”

Nightmare settled behind you, inky black tentacles pulling at your shirt to get you into something more comfortable while Killer walked off to 'make some phone calls,' As he did every time you returned from a doctors' visit. Dust looked as tired as you felt, almost purposefully getting in Nightmare's way as he curled into your lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. He stayed there more often than not, sometimes trading to hold you in his lap instead. Another blanket tumbled into your pile as Error finished tucking the ends in on his latest creation.

“I'm going-g-g to check on FellSwap 674, see if they've found anyth-th-th [blip] anything.” The multicolored skeleton stood and stretched, flipping a blanket over your head with his foot, “Be good. O-o-or at least mediocre,” he patted the blanket on top of your head briefly, and was gone.

You grumbled good naturedly. You knew your boys did their best, always working for some kind of cure, some way to prolong your life. They were working themselves to the proverbial bone, trying to scrape up another week, another day, with you. They wouldn't take your death well. You had tried bringing it up before, but your words were met with only hollow stares and frozen smiles. You knew it was going to hit them hard. You knew the multiverse was going to suffer for it. You knew there was nothing you could do.

What you didn't know lay deep in the castle depths. The finest work of every 'Swap' Undyne and 'Tale' Alphys, smoothed together with the best mechanical engineering the multiverse could provide. It looked just like you. All it needed was a SOUL.

[chaoticpuff17]

A Dangerous Game

part 23

masterlist 

Hello darlings! I’m back very briefly to give you a short chapter that was already have finished before my tests. I still have a bunch of school work to do, so I’ll be back to hermitting directly as college kills my soul, but please! Send asks! This story is very quickly drawing to its conclusion (probably only 10 or so parts left), and I’d love to know who you all would like to see in my next fic! Love you all!-- chaotic puff 

Jin found them there sometime later curled up on the sofa with Namjoon in one corner and Y/N resting against his side a blanket tucked around her legs and Moni settled happily next to her as the trio watched some sort of drama on the tv. The dog had perhaps missed her more than Namjoon had. While Moni was Namjoon’s dog, in the short time that Y/N had been there, she’d come to be the fluff ball’s favorite person which could have had everything to do with how much she spoiled him.

Namjoon couldn’t find it in himself to be jealous of the animal though. Moni made her happy, he was comforting to her, and Jin’s words rang through his head. She needed comforting things in her life now. She needed security, and Namjoon had every intention of providing it.

“How is the patient doing?” Jin asked almost sorry to break the peaceful moment as the pair had so few of those.

“She ate some of the porridge and drank a full cup of tea.” Namjoon reported with a tired smile, before the smile fell again morphing into a more concerned look. “She hasn’t had anything else though.”

It was bothering him. He was relieved she was awake, but she wasn’t herself. She had eaten so little too. He had hoped she’d finish the whole bowl of porridge, but she’d picked at it finishing maybe a quarter of it before she declared herself done.

“I’ll set up another saline bag to make sure she stays hydrated until she’s feeling a little better.” Jin nodded coming over to check that the IV port was still good on her arm. “Some exercise would be good to if she was up to it, just a walk in the garden though, nothing strenuous.”

“There’s something else.” He sighed eyes them both warily. It wasn’t news he wanted to give, but someone had to. “You have visitors.”

Namjoon stiffened though Y/N barely seemed to register the news.  “What visitors.” He asked in a low growl jaw clenched as he tried to keep his temper under control.

“Jackson Wang and Mark Tuan. They’d like to see Y/N.”  Came the reluctant reply, but this time earning a reaction from the woman. She stiffened before straightening up one hand anxiously knotted in the fur on the back of Moni’s neck.

“I don’t want to see him.” She whispered her eyes fixated on the floor.

“No one will make you.” Namjoon assured wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder and leveling Jin a hard look clearly displeased by the news and the fact it had been stated in her presence. “I’ll deal with them.” He murmured into her hair. She nodded mutely keeping her eyes on the floor as she anxiously ran her fingers through Moni’s fur. “Jin, could you have Jungkook come up and stay with her?”

“Jungkook’s here?” She asked her eyes flying up to meet his.

“He got back the other day. He wanted to see you, but you were still sleeping. He’s been staying in one of the guest rooms.” The smile that Namjoon sent her was warm, indulgent. He was far too relieved to see her displaying some sort of emotion that he didn’t even care it was directed towards another man. “Would you like to see him?”

“Yeah.”  

Namjoon smiled placing a soft kiss to her forehead as he stood up. “I’ll be back after I deal with this.”

“Okay.”

Namjoon and Jin walked out together leaving her curled on the sofa with Moni. The drama still played softly in the background though both men knew that she wasn’t really paying attention to it. She wasn’t herself, and they both knew it.  

“Has she spoken at all?”

“Not much more than you heard.” He sighed leaning against the wall outside of the room. “She asked me to stay.”  He huffed out a laugh with a sad smile. “You and I both knew she wouldn’t do that unless something was wrong.”

“She’s been through a lot. As much as she doesn’t like you, you are familiar at this point. Her entire world just got turned on its head. She needs familiarity. You, me, Jungkook. She needs people who care for her right now. She’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she’s, Y/N. She’s tougher than she looks, she’s just a little fragile right now.”

“Who let those bastards in the house?” He growled pushing off the wall to go deal with the pests that had invaded his home.

“They demanded entrance, claimed they had business with you. Hoseok’s with them now.”

He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well let’s see what the bastards want. Can you send Jungkook to sit with Y/N?”

“Of course.” Jin nodded. “I’ll hook her up to a new saline bag as well. We’ll see if Jungkook can get her to eat anything else.”

“Thank you, hyung.”

Namjoon was practically seething by the time they got to the parlor where Miss In and Hoseok stood guard over the two unwanted visitors. Miss In might not have looked like much, but she was nothing if not loyal to Namjoon. She ran the house with an iron fist so that Namjoon could run his business in the same way without worrying over his home. Hoseok would not hesitate to put a bullet into the heads of the other gang’s members. He was a loyal to Namjoon more so than any of his other men.

“What can I do for you gentleman?” Namjoon asked leisurely strolling into the room giving them a cold smile in greeting.

Jackson stood up whirling around to face Namjoon. “Where’s Y/N?” Namjoon ignored him choosing instead to settle himself into a chair across from the two men. “Where is she?” Jackson repeated glaring at the other man.

“Y/N doesn’t want to see you.” He drawled taking pleasure in the man’s clear annoyance.

“Of course she wants to see me. You can’t keep her away from me.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Wang, that Y/N does not want to see you. She’s been unwell and hasn’t wanted any visitors, especially not you.”

Jackson frowned clenching his fists. “Y/N would never refuse to see me, and what do you mean she’s been unwell?”

“She’s been unwell.” He shrugged purposefully keeping his answer vague partly to protect Y/N’s privacy and partly to annoy the other man.

“You said. What’s wrong with her?” He gritted out trying to restrain himself from jumping on the other man, but this was RM’s domain, and it would do no good to cause problems when Y/N’s safety was dependent on this man.

“I don’t think she would like you to know.” He smiled the expression dark and cold. “You did after all betray her.”

“I did no such thing!” Jackson shouted jumping up from his seat only to be pulled down by Mark.

“Control yourself.” He sighed. “Yelling isn’t going to get you any closer to seeing Y/N.”

“I’m afraid that neither of you will be seeing Y/N today. She has very clearly requested not to see you.”

“Where is she?”

“That is none of your concern.” Namjoon drawled. “She has asked not to see you. I intend to honor that request.”

“You can’t keep her away from me. She’s my sister.”

“And what kind of brother fails to protect his little sister?” Namjoon shot back cruelly.

“She was never supposed to marry you.” Jackson hissed. “She never should have been here in the first place. She never should have met a bastard like you.”

Namjoon froze the tension in the room rising as he levelled Jackson with a dark look. “She was always meant for me.” He smirked the expression cold, almost feral in nature as he stared at the other man. “Do you really think you could protect her? You? She’s better off here with me than she ever was with you.”

Jackson scoffed and leaning forward with a manic twinkle in his eye. “You think she’ll ever love you?”  He grinned the expression lacking any warmth or humor. “She won’t. She’s too good to degrade herself like that.”

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed dangerously his grin almost feral as he looked at the other man. “You think she would be any better off with you?”  The temperature in the room seemed to drop as he spoke. “You couldn’t even manage to get her more than an hour away before your bumbling attempt at a rescue was foiled. Did you really think you could take her away from me? The only reason you aren’t dead is because she didn’t want you dead. The only reason your bumbling crew was given the time of day was because you had the audacity to claim her as kin.”

“I want to make something perfectly clear to you, Mr. Wang. Y/N has never been and never will be your kin. She is my wife, and once the wedding is over, you will never see her again.”  

“You have no right!”

“I have every right! You may not like it, but Y/N is my wife. She will remain my wife, and you will fade into obscurity especially after your spectacular failure of a rescue. She was willing to sacrifice herself for you, if only you hadn’t lied to her.” He sighed false sympathy dripping from his tone. “She was quite heartbroken you know.”

“You bastard!”

“Is that any way to talk to your betters?” Namjoon quirked a brow unamused by the man across from him who was practically vibrating with anger.

“Just let me see her!”

“No. Out of the question. I won’t have you upsetting her any more than you already have.”  He scoffed elegantly crossed his legs leisurely leaning back in his seat. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’ve outstayed your welcome. Hoseok!” He called and almost instantaneously the red haired man was by his side. “Could you escort our guests out? And make sure that the gate knows that they are not welcome at the estate again.” He turned his cold gaze on the two men again sending them a smile that sent chills down both of their spines. “If you have any further business with me, you can do it through official channels, not at my home.”

part 24