#like it drops in octave when hes worried or angry

[mestos]

im gonna treat this like i do with my twitter... dump things and run

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Heavy on The Heart

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Since the fall, the readers been struggling with her mental health and, given the state of the world, there's not a lot of resources for them. But they didn't have Joel when it first fell, now they do.

Warnings: Mental health struggles, sadness, angst but happyish ending.

Word Count: 1.2k

A/n: There was a need for this character apparently so I decided to take it upon myself and write it for the lovely @causeimhappinesss!

On days like these, the world just seems bleaker than other days.

Its the feeling of water in my lungs when I first wake up, a gasping, clearing my throat, uncomfortable feeling that sits in the front of my mind- clear your throat one more time, y/n, it'll go away. But it never does. Instead it gets worse, travels from your heart to your lungs, your life devoted muscle pumping suddenly at the speed of life and banging against your ribs.

Between the drowning feeling and the motorboat running rampant in my chest, it's like a can't breathe, can't afford to get out of bed because it'll just get worse with every step away from my bed that I take.

I know that Joel will be coming soon, picking me up so we can go on runs for the low life's of the city, trading worthless things for things that could eventually help us get to Tommy, to get to safety. But the thought of seeing him makes me want to cry and the thought of having to put a brave face on and fake being completely and utterly miserable and anxious- it makes me more miserable and more anxious.

The knock on my door has me rolling away from it, deciding to face the window instead so the first thing Joel sees aren't the dark bags beneath my eyes and the scowl on my lips. Our frowns will at least match.

He steps into my apartment, I can hear the thick boots thudding against the wood floor until he enters my room cautiously, fingers rapping against the wall as he clears his throat. I give him a simple hum of acknowledgment and my heart begins to beat faster as I watch him step around the bed, eyes finally meeting mine.

"Hey." He whispers, sitting down beside me on the bed with a simple tilt of his head, looking over me with a soft, worried expression. "You okay?" He asks and he reaches out to rest his hand on my hip through the blanket, just his touch makes me want to fold into myself and cry.

"Not feeling up to the run today." I mutter with a tremble, my lip shaking as a cold sweat shines on my body. "You and Tess can go without me." I wave him off, pulling my blanket further up onto my shoulders as I snuggle further into the safety of my bed, wishing nothing but to sink into my mattress completely.

"What're you feelin'?" He asks, leg bouncing nervously.

"I don't want to talk about it." My once sad mood turns sour and I begin to feel angry at Joel for asking me so many questions and it makes me more angry to be angry at Joel for no reason. He doesn't know any better, he's just worried but for some reason by brain chooses to be annoyed by his affection that he rarely shows in the first place.

"Okay." He nods sternly but there's a sense of disapproval in his eyes as he gazes down at me. "But you can," he pauses, rubbing circles into my hip with a soft smile, "talk about it, I mean."

"I know, Joel." I sigh, clutching the blankets to me as I sit up, his eyes suddenly widening at my sudden closeness. His arm adjusts, wrapping around my waist to keep me propped up against him, my fingers busying themselves with messing with the buttons on his jacket. "Sometimes I just wake up and have this elephant sitting on my chest. Especially when I think about leaving the apartment. I just wanna stay here." I let out a sign of relief at my own confession, happy that I had the guts to actually admit it to him of all people. We're not the biggest on feeling things, especially with each other. "It's just hard to exist when the worlds like this."

"You're scaring me." He says suddenly, his voice dropping an octave or two at the fear in my own voice.

"I'll be okay." I smile sadly. "Think I'm in an anxious funk."

"You sound fuckin' depressed." He laughs sadly, reaching up to brush some hair from my eyes, thumb lingering against my cheekbone as I just give him a simple shrug, not knowing what to say.

"Don't make fun of me." I tease and I reach out to shove him playfully.

"I'm not, I promise." He whispers, my whole body relaxing into his touch and the way his eyes look over me, as if I'm protected just by his affectionate, caring, worried gaze. "I'll tell Tess to go at it alone. I'll stay here with you." He goes to get up but I reach out to grab his hand in mine, suddenly feeling a bit of a pep to my step as I begin to think about a day at home with Joel, all to myself.

"Yeah?" I ask with a sigh of relief.

"You seem excited." He chuckles, patting my cheek before making his way to his feet, backing up slowly. "Hold your horses, Tess is out in the hallway. Let me go tell her, alright?" He offers with his hands up in surrender and I nod, sitting with my hands folded in my lap but he gives me a firm gesture to rest. "Lay down."

"I'll wait for you." I nod, falling back onto the bed to get comfortable once more, watching until Joel is out of my sight and I can hear them talking out in the hallway.

I can only imagine how this makes me look in Tess's eyes, maybe weak, stupid, the lesser woman, but I can't find it in me to care when I know that I'll have Joel with me, all day, taking care of me and making sure I get through the day.

"Thank you." I tell Joel when he comes back and he's smiling at me with a cute tilt of his head.

"For?" He grunts an old man grunt as he slides down into the bed beside me, holding an arm out to me so I can slide into his side, curving my body against his and I lay my head on his chest, finally back where I've belonged for days.

"Caring about me." I draw circles on his skin through his flannel, ignoring the heat that's rising to my cheeks.

"Don't gotta thank me." He whispers against my hairline and tugs me further against himself, clinging onto me like I matter to do. Because I do. "I care for you like I think about breathing-I don't think, I just do."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

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[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

A Flower With Petals of Flame: Part eighteen (Eris x Reader)

Warnings: Betrayal, arguing, mentions of possible memory loss o-o

Part seventeen Part nineteen

Tag list: @esposadomd

Sorry for being gone for so long! I was sick and was barely keeping up with life. Y/N goes back to find Eris, and secrets are revealed. After gathering some people together, they have to go find someone Y/N isn't exactly happy to go see.

I sit with the inner circle, awkwardly sipping a cup of coffee.

It was going to be a long night.

“I kind of have to get back-  I may have told Eris I was going somewhere else and he’s probably getting worried.”  I say, shifting uncomfortably.

Rhys had offered me a shower after we got in, and even after the rain, I was covered in blood, so I accepted.

He must have talked to the others while I did, because they were all… softer?  They still seemed hurt, but not full of rage.

The problem was that it was easier to leave when people were angry with you.

“Well you can’t bring him here.”  Cassian murmured, causing me to huff a laugh.

“I wouldn’t do that unless everyone here was comfortable with it, and I know you’re not.” I say, trying to sound comforting.

He shifts uncomfortably, and I see Nesta nudge him discreetly.  “Thank you.”  She says, shooting me a smile.

I sigh, placing the cup down.  “I’ll be back after I find a place where Eris and I can stay that I’m absolutely sure is safe.”

Without another word, I stand.

“Wait.”  My brother says, standing with me.  “Let one of us come with you.  With Amarantha out there, I don’t like the idea of you out there alone.”

I sighed, holding back an eye roll.  “Fine, but I get to choose who comes with.”  I say, eyeing Azriel.

He’s watching me just as closely.

Rhysands nods.  “Of course.”

I blink, surprised at how easily he agreed.

I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth though.

And I already knew who I wanted.

“I would like you to come with me, if you are alright with that?”  I ask, turning to face Nesta.

Here I was thinking I couldn’t shock the room anymore than I already had.

She blinks.  “Me?”

I nod.  “I know you can fight, and I would like to get to know you better.”  I say, dipping my head slightly, the closest I would ever get to a bow.

Cassian opens his mouth, presumably to respond for her, but she nods, her face cool and unreadable as she says, “I’m perfectly fine with that.”

I grin.  “Good.  Please hurry, I’ll be waiting in the garden.”  I announce, heading out in that direction.

As soon as I leave the room, I can hear the cacophony of voices start up.

In my time here, I had seen Nesta was a good fighter, and even if it was suppressed, she had magic flowing in her veins.

I had heard her story, enough that I know that her powers were taken back by the cauldron.  But it had left her some, and I can’t help but feel she’s lowered everyone's expectations.

“Why do you want to take my sister with you?”

I whirl around, and I see Elain standing there, inspecting me with a quiet sort of suspicion.

“I think you know.”  I say, narrowing my eyes.

She crosses her arms, standing her ground.  “You’ve not exactly proved yourself to be trustworthy.”

I smile, my eyes darkening.  “Oh, and may I ask what you’ve done?”  I ask, letting my voice drop an octave.

“Excuse me?”  She asked, sounding outraged.

I let out a small laugh, sauntering over to her.  “I’m going to warn you now little girl.  You can pretend you’re innocent for awhile, but eventually it will catch up for you Elain.”

I smile a little bit at her, the little bit of terror and rage in her face.  “When it does, find me.  I know what it’s like.”

Turning, I finally make my way out to the garden, the rain having calmed to a light drizzle.

After coming back, I hadn’t taken the time to go outside at night, to go around and actually explore the city on my own.

Now, I look up at the stars, and I release a long sigh, letting my shoulders slump.  I needed to go see the Sidra at some point, see if it was as wonderful as I remembered.

“You ready to go?”  Nesta asks, and I smile a little.

I turn to study the female, who only seems relaxed when my brother isn’t in the room.  I honestly don’t blame her.

“I am if you are.”  I say, extending my arm for her to grab onto.

She raised her eyebrows, her lips twitching upwards.  “How gentlemanly of you.”

I give her a little wink as she takes my arm.  “I have to admit, I’m not usually one to flirt with mated females, but you’re quite fun.”

She whipped her head around, opening her mouth to snap at me, but before she could get a word out, I was winnowing us to Eris’s cottage with a chuckle.

We landed with a small thud, and we were both silent for a moment, waiting for the sound of welcoming footsteps or the sound of swords being unsheathed, but none came.

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach as I took a cautious step away from Nesta, peering around to check for any threats.

“Stay here.  I’m going to make sure everything’s alright.”  I turn just enough to look at her, already holding her feet apart in a fighting stance.  “I trust you have weapons?”

She gave a curt nod, and I turned back around, taking my time checking the whole cabin.

I shake my head when I finally come back, the message clear.

Nothing.

“Well, do you have any idea where he went, or do you just want to head back?”  She asked, leaning against the fireplace.

I shake my head.  “I’m not leaving until I find him.  Worse case scenario, his father or Amarantha found him.  More likely though, he went looking where I told him I was going to be.”  I explain, biting my lip nervously.

I knew I had been awhile, but I wish he had just stayed here for once.

“Maybe-”  Nesta starts, but is cut off by the front door opening, the two of us unsheathing our weapons as the figure steps in.

Eris.

I put away my dagger rushing over to him.  “Are you okay?”  I asked, worried that he was hurt.

He paused as I rushed towards him, looking over me.  “Are you alright?”  He asked, walking over to me, and inspecting me hesitantly.

I nod, confused by the way he was staying a few steps back.

Sam, Tamlin, and Lucien walked in, and I watched the way Nesta stiffened up at their entrance.  Normally I would have questioned Eris and Nesta on why they both seemed to have sticks up their asses, but I didn’t have time.

I had no time.

“Why the hell did you bring these two back right now?  We literally can’t go back-”  I started, but Sam cut me off.

“We sure as hell can, and you’re coming with us.”  He said, leveling a stare at me.

I gritted my teeth, and Eris turned to look at me.  “They haven’t explained a lot, but what they have isn’t good.”  He said, and I realized he was wearing his usual mask of the cruel lord.

A little taken aback, I shake my head.  “It doesn’t matter right now.  What matters is that we find a safe-”

“Y/N.”  Lucien stopped me, crossing his arms.  “They told us why people don’t just go back to their lives willy nilly.  You need to come back with us.

Nesta comes closer, standing by my side.  “She doesn’t have to go anywhere she doesn’t want to.”

Suddenly, the room is split in two, and my stomach churns.  I knew why they wanted me to come back, but I couldn’t go back yet.

Not until I knew that Amarantha would be waiting in the afterlife, and I could make sure she never hurt anyone again.

I look to Eris, who’s looking back at me with a sort of distrust.

“Could we talk alone for a minute?”  I ask him.  I don’t want to explain this in front of everyone like this.

He crosses his arms, but nods.  “Yeah, okay.”

Everyone else starts to protest, but before any of them can finish I grab his arm and winnow us outside, a little distance away.

He shrugs me off, crossing his arms and looking up at the night sky, taking deep breaths.

“Are you okay?”  I ask him again, more forcefully this time.

“No! No, I’m not alright.  First, you lied to me to go talk to your family, second, from what they told me, if you stay here too long, something bad is going to happen to you.”  He snapped, turning to look at me with tired eyes.

I shake my head.  “It’s not like that.  I just didn’t want you to worry, I worked it out with my brother, and I’m going to be fine.”

He narrows his eyes at me, and I know he sees through my words.

“Tell me what happens.”

I let my shoulders slump, biting my lip anxiously.  “I- The reason you stay you is because souls have this essence which is you.  Your memories, your personality, you.”   I start to explain, shifting uncomfortably.

He relaxes slightly.  “What does that have to do with all of this?”  He asked, and I gritted my teeth.  I didn’t want to tell him this, because I know he will panic.

“Well, that essence is what the Asteri steal.  When people make it to the afterlife after it is stolen, they have no memories of who they were.  You can also lose that essence in a sort of gamble.”  I explain, crossing my arms.

He suddenly looks nervous, asking, “What sort of gamble?”

I take a deep breath before telling him, “If I stay here for too long without stopping by the afterlife, or even just another world, I will lose all my memories, but I have another chance at my life."

“And you were… what?  Going to let yourself lose your memories?”  Eris asks me, and I try not to cringe away.

“If Amarantha finds out how we travel, and tells the Asteri, then there’s nothing stopping them from basically taking over the universe.  So no, I wasn’t really willing to risk everyone’s lives so I could keep my memories.”  I snap, half turning away from him.

I hear him stand, and I close my eyes, wishing this was over.

“What else aren’t you telling me?”  He asks, and I can hear the pain in his voice.

I wrap my arms around myself, not saying anything.

We stand there for a few moments in silence before he asks, “What now?”

I shrug.  “Now?  Now we find a safe place for you and I try and help my brother prepare Velaris for Amarantha.”  I say, spinning on my heel and heading back toward the cabin.  I was too tired to talk any more about this.

“About that actually-”

I sit with Tamlin, Lucien, Sam, Eris, and Nesta at a large and fancy table.

“So in other words we are all screwed?”  I ask as they finish laying out the extend of Amarantha’s army.

“It could be worse.”  Tamlin tries.  “It could be the king of Hybren leading them.”

Nesta scowls at him.  “That’s not helping.”

I sigh.  “I guess I should get Rhys here.  This is not going to be fun.”  I bemoan.

Eris has stayed quiet, and I can understand why, but my heart still feels like it’s cracking.

Maybe I should have told him about the possibility of losing my memories, but the rest of what I wasn’t telling him…

It wasn’t something anyone needed to hear about.  It was stupid, and it didn’t matter.

I look at Nesta, meeting her stare.  “Want to stay here while I get them?”  She gives a single dip of her head in response, and I immediately winnow back to the house of Wind.

“Mother above-”  Cassian curses as I appear in the middle of the room.

“There’s a problem, and we need to go talk to Tamlin, Eris, Lucien, and my friend Sam.”  I list, not bothering to hide my irritation.

“I thought you said Tamlin was dead, and did you leave Nesta with them?”  Cassian questioned, standing up.

I cross my arms, meeting his stare.  “I trust them and her.  And if something happens, I’m sure she can handle herself.”  I snipe before turning to my brother, who’s giving me an evaluating look.

He nods.  “Alright.  Feyre?”  He asks, and it’s clear what he’s asking.  Does she want to face Tamlin?

She gives a subtle shake of her head and he nods, shooting Cassian and Azriel a look, both of them standing as he does.

“Let’s go.

Now all of us awkwardly sat at an even bigger table, and no one was happy.

“Is there anything we can do to send her back easily?”  Rhys asks impatiently, we had already been going around and around for an hour or more.

“Nope.”  I say, ignoring his glare.

Someone, *ahem* Lucien *ahem*  had brought up earlier the side effects of my lingering here, causing an explosive argument.

I bite my lip.  “We could try and add more defenses to Velaris’s shield.”  I say, thinking it through.

“That would help, but we would still need help defending the city.”  Rhys ponders, before nodding.  “Yes, we should at least do that.”

I nod.  “Well, I have an idea, but…”  I put my hand out, creating a small sphere of darkness and tiny pin prick stars, sighing.

“But I’m going to need help.”  I manage to say, seeing what I’m going to have to do if I want to protect the city I had grown up in.

Rhysand smiles a little bit, and I almost roll my eyes.  “Of course you’ll have help.”  He says, and I sigh.

“It can’t be anyone alive.  Which means I need to go find someone.”  I say, standing up.

Everyone else stands up with me, clambering for my attention.

I slam a fist on the table.

“You all try and sort this out, I’m going to go get them.”  I say, turning away from the table.

“I’m going-”  “Like hell you’re-”  Rhys and Eris talk over each other, starting a staring match.

I groan.  “I don’t have time for this shit.  Both of you come on now or I’m leaving you both here and you can throw your temper tantrums.”

I hear Nesta snort, and I hide the smile that threatens to spread across my face.

They follow me a little distance from the cabin, and I look around.  “Can you two provide me some cover so no one can see what I’m doing?”

I hear light grumbling, but I ignore it as I start to create the portal.  “Thanks.”

After a minute, the portal is open.

I take a deep breath, and make sure Eris and Rhys are both ready.  They both look pissed, but otherwise ready.

“Let’s go see dear old dad.”  I mutter before stepping through the portal, not giving them a chance to comment.

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Previously...

Finally it’s back! And finally with SMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT!

***

So they went to sleep; Bell put on her practical nightgown, sat on her side of the bed and waited.

Thorin cleared his throat at least twice before finally laying on the bed.

He mumbled a quick goodnight and gave her his back.

Bell arched an eyebrow as she looked at his back. “I never took you for a cuddler.” She said quite simply.

Thorin’s shoulders tensed for a second, and he got quiet, probably thinking he should just pretend he’d fallen asleep already.

Then he gave her a look over his shoulder. “What?”

“I’m just saying.” She told him innocently. “You’re awfully grabby when you sleep.”

Thorin turned to her and sat on the bed. “I feel I must apologize, Mistress Baggins. I had no intention…”

“Do not worry, Thorin.” She cut gently. “I am not angry.”

Thorin had a very wary look in his eyes. “No?”

“I am mostly frustrated.” She admitted honestly.

Thorin went absolutely still, his eyes fixed on her. “Frustrated?” He asked, his voice going down an octave.

Bell felt her heart speed up. It was too late to back down now. “Well…” She licked her lips. “I’ve been grabbed and teased for three nights. There’s something missing here.”

“Is there?”

“Yes.”

Thorin cleared his throat. “How rude of me.”

“Extremely.” She agreed easily.

“If you allow me, Mistress Baggins, I would take this opportunity to make it up to you.” His voice had gone all rough and sexy. Bell felt it all the way to her toes.

“I think that it’d only be right.”

He nodded slowly, her eyes taking her in. “I still wouldn’t like to presume.”

“I see.” She grabbed the hem of her nightgown and got it off her probably way too fast.

Not that Thorin was complaining. He was too busy staring.

Then he lunged himself at her. Suddenly Bell was on her back and she had this -maddening -gorgeous dwarf on top of her.

Thorin pulled at her legs until they were around his waist and he was happily accommodated between them.

He ran the tip of his fingers across her cheekbones, then her jaw and lips. “You’re so soft.” He marveled. “Your skin, your shape…” His fingers went down her neck, caressed her collarbone. “All this time, I’ve been looking at you, thinking about touching you, feeling your skin under my hands…” He smirked. “I think that’s what I did, even though I wasn’t conscious of it.”

Bell snickered. “Trust me, that was exactly what you were doing.”

“Where did I touch you?” He asked, his voice low, dangerous -delicious.

“Can’t you guess?” Bell teased.

While his eyes were still holding hers, his hands slid down and grabbed her thigh. “Here?” He gave it a firm squeeze.

“Yes.” Her voice was low and breathless.

His hands traveled a bit higher, tightly grabbing her ass. “Here?”

Her chuckle was husky. “Most definitely.”

His hand traveled up her body, as if he was truly appreciating the texture of her skin, caressing her body as if it was a work of art. The whole time he held her gaze, until he finally lowered his eyes to drop a kiss between her breasts, before cupping one. “Here?”

“Yes.” She hissed.

Thorin groaned, his hand going back to grab her ass so he could pull her tighter against him. “You’re like a feast.” He murmured, his lips hovering the curve of her breast. “I feel like I could spend days exploring every curve and dip of your body.”

“Oh no!” Bluebell protested immediately. “I have been left wanting for days. You can explore later, now you have to take care of me.”

Thorin chuckled. “As I wasn’t properly attentive before, I shall obey.” His eyes were dark as he looked into hers. “This time.”

The promise of a next time made Bell shiver. She sank her fingers in Thorin’s hair and pulled his head to her. He came easily, his mouth coming down on hers eagerly.

Bell sighed in relief the moment their lips touched. Her mouth parted under Thorin’s, and he growled his approval as his tongue played with hers. She felt herself sinking into him as the greedy dwarf took and took, his kisses becoming more and more demanding.

His weight felt luxurious over her body, his heat pure torture. His hands took advantage now that he was aware of what he was doing, touching everything he could reach.

Then his hand slipped between her legs, touching her where she wanted the most. “Yes.” She whined against his mouth, making Thorin chuckle.

“So this was the place that was neglected.” He teased.

“By you.” She pointed out dryly.

He chuckled again. “I apologize. Let me fix it.”

And fix it he did. His fingers toyed with her until Bell thought she might go mad. He wasn’t teasing her anymore, quite the contrary. He worked her into a peak, and when she was still coming down from it, he started again.

He murmured words of praise to her -and her cunny -as he fingered her into oblivion, one peak after the next.

After what felt like centuries and many orgasms later, Bell was left boneless in bed, while he undressed. However, she wasn’t so tired that she couldn’t appreciate his body.

Thorin’s body was completely different from a hobbit’s body. He was hard all over, like a marble statue. He was so beautiful it made her heart ache.

“Come.” She opened her arms to him.

He grinned at her. “Are you still unsatisfied?”

“Not unsatisfied, I just want to touch you more.”

His expression mellowed and he went back to her, once again laying his body over hers. Bell hugged him with her arms, his legs cradling his hips. For a moment, it wasn’t even sexual, despite them both being naked and aroused. For a minute, it was just about them holding each other.

“You’re a gift.” Thorin murmured against the curve of her neck.

Bell laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “Is that so?”

He raised his head so he could look into her eyes. “Ghivashel. Treasure of all treasures.” He kissed her.

Bell’s heart blossomed with his words, and she let him take her, his cock pushing into her bodies, their fingers laced together, their mouths fused together. Bell locked her legs around his hips, as he fucked her slow and deep, making her feel every drag from him inside her.

She whispered his name like a prayer, until his hands let go of hers so he could cup her breasts, play with her nipples. Then they went lower, grabbing her hips and his rhythm became brutal. He fucked her hard, growls scaping his lips.

The hobbit begged for more and he gave it to her. They both were sweaty and messy and it didn’t matter at all. Her hands weren’t behaved as well; she let them feel the muscles of his back, feel the hairs on his chest, grab his ass and encourage him to move in even deeper.

She hadn’t thought she’d be able to climax once again, but Thorin was relentless and her body surrendered to his demands.

She shattered around him, feeling safe only because he was there holding her.

Thorin gathered her in his arms, his lips pressed against the crown of her head.

“That was fine.” She mumbled.

“Fine?” Thorin repeated. “Just fine? Should we try it again?”

“Please, no. I might not survive.” She chuckled. “It was better than fine. Much better.”

Thorin nodded, clearly pleased with himself. “We still have many days to make up for.”

“We do?” She giggled.

“Yes. Days that come from before we entered this house.” He confessed softly.

She tilted her head to look into his eyes. “Yes?” Her voice was soft, careful.

“Yes.” He promised, once again dropping a kiss to her head.

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Love Grows (demon!Bucky and pre-serum!Steve omegaverse au)

36

IT DIDN'T EVEN take the weekend for Steve to make up his mind. It didn't even take twenty-four hours before he was calling Hodge. He had, after all, had a good month to decide what he was going to do and what he wanted. Not just out of his spouse, but for his and his baby's lives.

"We need to talk," Steve started.

"Kinda figured that much since you called," Hodge had chuckled, clearly not feeling anything coming from the omega on his side of the bond. Because if he had been able to feel it, he'd know that Steve was hesitant and nervous, but also a little relieved to finally have the courage to have this conversation.

"I think we should separate." Steve paused, waiting for Hodge's reply. When nothing came, he added, "Officially."

Unfortunately, Hodge clearly didn't get what he was trying to say. Letting out another chuckle, "Aren't we already? I mean, I don't think we could be any more separated than living across the country."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Steve had to physically reign himself in so he wouldn't say something too mean. "That's not what I meant. I'm talking about the first step to..."

Steve stopped himself. Could he actually get this out? Get the word out? It didn't seem that long ago that just thinking about the word in an abstract way was too much for him. But now? Well, he still didn't like the taste of it on his tongue.

"To... what, Steve?"

His heart was practically in his throat, threatening to strangle him. His husband was impatient and so obviously unaware of the situation that Steve was currently in. Still, he forced out, "Divorce." Reiterating, "I'm talking about the first step to divorce."

The other side went completely silent causing Steve to wonder if the call was dropped. But nope, it was still there. It took a total of fifteen seconds – the longest fifteen seconds of Steve's life – for Hodge to make any noise at all.

Nasty and cruel, Hodge scoffed, "Divorce? For what reason? You've clearly gone loony without me there if you think that this is a good idea."

"I have not!" Steve defended, growing angry rather than remorseful or even relieved. Boy! Watch out for those pregnancy hormones and deadly mood swings. "And you would've realized that this isn't the first time I've thought about this if you paid any attention to anyone other than yourself!"

"Oh, please! There's clearly someone badmouthing me –"

"I don't rely on others to make my own –"

"You just can't take the attention being on anyone other than yourself –"

"If you really think that, you're more deluded than I thought!"

"And you're more warped than I thought!"

"You know what, think whatever you want," Steve decided, completely disgusted that he could've ever been married – bonded – to someone lacking so much self-awareness. "But the only person that I'm doing this for is me." Marking over his bump in hopes to soothe the active baby, "No, correction! The only one I'm doing this for is our baby!"

"Will you shut the fuck up about, 'our baby'?! Because I'm starting to get real sick of –"

"Oh, don't worry! I'll never bother you again about them! As far as they're concerned, they never had a beta father to begin with!"

Hodge's voice rose several octaves, "THEY NEVER DID TO BEGIN WI–"

At that, Steve ended the call. He wasn't going to just stand there and allow anyone to talk to him like that, but especially not some wannabe actor whose career was going to flop faster than a bunny's ears! For crying out loud, who did Gilmore Hodge think he was?! Steve wouldn't even let his adolescent crush Zac-fucking-Efron treat him like that!

Knock, knock!

With shaking hands, Steve swung the door open. He was just about to let whoever it was have a piece of his mind. Didn't matter what they wanted. All that was in Steve's mind and body was –

"Steven, are you alright?"

Finding Peggy standing there with his morning vitamin shake and little vitamin cake, Steve tried to reign in that fury raging inside of him. Bringing his hand up to his chest, he felt the filigree ball hanging on the necklace down his chest.

"I'm fine," Steve fibbed.

Peggy didn't seem too convinced. Especially when she reached out to brush away some escaped tears from Steve's flushed face. "Dear, you don't have to lie to me. You really aren't that good at it."

Softly chuckling, Steve sniffled, "I'm sorry. I just got off the phone with Hodge."

"Oh no," Peggy sighed, entering the apartment. "It hasn't gotten between you two, has it?"

"No, it hasn't," he confirmed, closing the door behind her before following the older omega into the kitchen. As she made herself at home, Steve admitted, "I'm going to file for divorce."

Nearly dropping the glass and plate that she was holding, Peggy was utterly shocked. Perhaps Steve had hidden his recent disdain for the beta better than he thought. Better than anyone else thought he'd be capable of too.

"Quite frankly," Peggy recovered quickly, "I'm surprised this didn't happen sooner. You weren't matched very well."

"Haven't you ever heard that opposites attract?" Steve weakly smiled.

A small smile tugged at one corner of Peggy's red painted lips, "Yes. But that's not true for everyone."

"I guess not," Steve downed the sour drink. The baby seemed momentarily appeased as Steve ate the tiny cake in two bites. "Now I don't know what to do. Who do I call? Where am I – where are we – going to live? What's going to happen?"

"Darling," Peggy reached across the table to take Steve's hands, "You're going to live right here. It's not like Hodge is going to be here anytime soon and I know that Arnold wouldn't dare kick you out."

Steve nodded, relaxing back in his chair. Resting his hands on his bump, he was comforted knowing that Peggy was right. Uncle Arnie wasn't a bad guy, Steve knew that. He'd make sure that Steve wasn't out on his ass. Especially not with him expecting. Married to his nephew or not, Uncle Arnie wasn't cruel.

"On the other front," Peggy started. "I know someone who could help you more than I can."

Pulling a card out of her slacks pocket, she slid it across the table to Steve. Sniffling, Steve removed one of his hands from his abdomen and took the thick, expensive-feeling card.

"This guy knows what he's doing?" Steve asked, feeling Silas-or-Rosemary move around, probably trying to get more comfortable in their tiny womb.

"Definitely," Peggy assured. Standing from the table, she asked, "Would you like me to make you an appointment with him?"

"Oh, I," Steve paused, not knowing why he was about to decline the kind gesture. So, he gave in, "Sure. Why the hell not?"

Nodding, Peggy grinned over at him. She suggested, "I can even make you some tea, if you'd like." Now, this time Steve was definitely going to decline because she already did so much for him. However, Peggy could see that and quickly shooed him off, "You go and relax – it'll be good for the baby – and I'll take care of the rest. After everything you've been through, you deserve to have someone take care of you."

Despite how he had been raised and despite his pride in general, Steve decided to do as she said. Entering the living room, he could hear her talking on the phone, but didn't bother to try and listen. Instead, he laid down on the sofa and allowed himself to relax. After his conversation with Hodge and the emotional drain that the beta put him through, it wasn't long before Steve was snoozing. His hands cradled him bump, protecting the soothed pup and dreaming about holding them in his arms. Dreaming about Bucky holding them too.

Wishing all of you happy holidays! Much love and appreciation Minnie ❤❤❤

[minniepetals]

cry me a river | the lie

— summary: a house made of cards, they lived in your beautiful lie

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff, mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

— word count: 18.8k

— warnings: (triggering topics: please prepare your tissues) ANGST, childhood trauma, mental abuse, child neglect, manipulation, gaslighting, violence, mentions of assault, hurt and comfort, emotional neglect, minor character deaths, kidnapping

— a/n: PLEASE READ THIS FOR AN EXPLANATION OF PART 2. on another note, i don't have a taglist for cmar so stop asking in the comments

— PART 2 / previous part / masterpost

“Do you have any amount of remorse in you?” The silence that follows after his question echoes loudly into the room and Hoseok, outraged and filled with disbelief, falls with disappointment at the man who had decided to let you go. More than anything he’s angry. Upset. And although he’s still in pain and in the process of recovery, his hand trembles into a fist the longer he stares at the man.

“Kim Namjoon.” His voice lowers an octave, gravely, but Namjoon does nothing even as Hoseok rushes to pull a punch right at his face.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi pulls him forcefully back when the boss falls to the floor and touches the stinging sensation against his now cut lips.

“Let go of me!” Hoseok rages as he tries to push Yoongi away, only to have Jungkook grab his other side to pull him back from taking out his anger on Namjoon. But Hoseok’s far too enraged to let them do this to him. “Why’re you stopping me?!” He forces their vice-like grips off him and glares straight at them. “You think you’ll be let off easily, don’t you? You don’t think I’ll blame you either?” He scoffs as he can feel the tears welling up along his waterline. Hoseok’s nostrils thicken as he can feel a lump beginning to form at his throat.

But he swallows it down thickly.

“Why?” It comes out soft for the first time. “Why?!!” And then he rages once more, voice filled with so many emotions as the tears fall and Hoseok can’t stop it from flowing so he leaves it be. “Do you have any idea how hard she tried? I didn’t even have a single clue because Y/N was afraid of me. She was afraid I would end up like the six of you. Silent and unconcerned for her. But knowing her, she would have never stopped at a small rejection. Not even after three or five more times. So tell me, Min Yoongi,” he grabs the collar of his hyung, seeing nothing but red before him, “how many times did Y/N try until you forced her to her breaking point?”

It’s a question he can’t answer.

Because he doesn’t know, none of them does, for their ignorance towards you left them to not care about the number of times you forced yourself to face them with patience and kindness. A sort of love that kept coming even as insecurities wanted to pull you away.

And almost as if he understands just how sick they were towards you, Hoseok pushes Yoongi away with a strong force, enough so that he would stumble back and hit the wall hard behind him. Normally he’d worry if that had been too much but right now Hoseok does not care one bit. The amount of pain they inflicted on you can never compare.

“Hoseok, enough,” Seokjin tells him in a demanding tone. “Doing this isn’t going to bring Y/N back. She’s not ever coming back.”

He’s silent as he takes those words in.

Knowing.

Understanding.

And a knife pierces his heart a few times, his stomach dropping, and Hoseok falls to the floor as he holds his head in his hands.

“Don’t say that…” He begs. “Don’t tell me that when you were the ones who drove her away.” If only he caught up to the situation before it got too much for you, before you had hit your breaking point. If only he had been there for you. If only he made it crystal clear to you that his love for you would never break and hadn’t made you so afraid of him.

If only.

“You have no right to tell me that. So don’t…”

“I’m tired,” he hears you say in his memories. So broken, so tired. With eye bags under the once brightly lit eyes that would sparkle every time you sent him a smile.

They broke you.

And Hoseok cries. Hard.

Because he wasn’t enough to make you stay. Because he could never be enough, not when the rest of them had already driven you away and made you so afraid of love.

He wasn’t there for you and now you’re gone.

Broken and left to pick up the pieces all by yourself.

.

.

.

May 20XX; Age Four.

19 years ago.

“Mom?”

“Do not call me that.” The glare she sends you as well as the tone of her voice is filled with so much poison you flinch under her gaze. You can feel yourself starting to tremble as your head lowers before your birth mother, knowing you’ve just made a mistake and is afraid of what she might do.

“I-I’m sorry. Please forgive this child.” You try your best to stay strong, to not show weakness, but as she looks at you from her bed, all she sees is a trembling weak girl who is too afraid of anything and you hate that she still gets to you.

“Useless.” Your birth mother utters with pure disgust and you shrink back, shoulders hunched up towards your ears at her venom.

Ah, but you can’t cry. You’ve brought up so much courage just to check up on your mother. You can’t let her cry, you’ll only make her more upset and mother doesn’t like that.

You want to make her happy.

“Forgive me. I-I will do better.”

“Forget it.” She turns her head from you, clearly too annoyed by your presence alone as she holds her head in hand. “You’re giving me a headache. Leave.”

“I...I hope you feel better, miss.” You give her a respectful bow, sad you can’t have more time with your mother but not wanting her to be hurt. You have to obey her wishes. She’ll learn to love you soon enough. You just have to be a good kid.

“Do not ever visit me again.” Your little feet freeze in place but you dare not to turn around, knowing your face alone will make her even more upset. “You’re the reason I’m sick, useless child. If you ever step into this room, I will kill you myself.”

Before you can even ask her what she means, her maids are already escorting you away with such forcefulness a kid like you can barely compare to their strengths. And when they’ve kicked you out, the door slams in your face before you can even ask them to wait.

So you stand there before your mother’s room, shocked.

You’re the reason mom is sick? But...why?

If you’re the reason then you want to make it right again. Is that why mom hates you?

“My lady.” You turn towards the butler who pays you a respectful bow, the only one to ever do so, and because you know he’s the only one who won’t get mad at you for asking questions, you decide to confide in him.

“Mister?”

“What is it, my lady?”

“Mother said she’s sick because of me but, what does that mean?” You ask, innocence in your words as you look up at the tall man. “Is that why whenever I approach mom, she gets a headache? Is that why mom doesn’t like it when I visit?” The more you think about it, the more the crease between your brows furrows. “I’ve been wanting to visit her so often I hadn’t realized I’m the cause of her suffering. But I want to see mom.” You pout as your eyes sadden at the thought. “Does this mean I can no longer visit mom? I love mom but...if I’m the reason she’s sick then it means I can’t see her anymore, right?”

“My lady…”

“I’ll be a good kid then,” you declare. “I won’t see mom again. It’ll help her with the pain and mom will finally be proud of me when she gets better. Won’t she?”

A sweet smile so innocent and pure, yet when you look up at your butler, the only thing you see are eyes that are so sad and filled with guilt.

.

.

.

December 20XX; Age four

Mother passes away, leaving you sobbing with painful tears because you never got to see her smile at you. Ever.

You weren’t a good kid, not in the way you hoped to be in order to receive the love of a mother. Because until her last day, mother doesn’t even take one last glance your way.

She hates you and still you yearn for her love even in your nightmares.

Two years later you find out the truth.

Mother passed away because she never recovered from childbirth. She had been weak before but grew even weaker after giving birth to you.

You were the reason for her sickness. The reason for her death.

You killed your own mother.

And as you cry at the fact that you were a monster who dared to kill her own mother, the butler beside you, the only one to ever show you kindness, remains by your side until you fall asleep blaming yourself for so many things.

.

.

.

September 20XX; Age Seven

“Father?”

He’s tall and extrudes so much power you shrink back in fear when his intimidating eyes spare you a glance. “Your mother was right,” he says, voice and expression devoid any sort of emotion. But still, you want to hear what he has to say, wanting his attention and love because this is the first time he’s ever looked your way. “You are nothing but a useless child.”

You flinch at his words, eyes widening a bit as you can feel your heart sinking in.

He stops looking at you, turns his gaze away, and begins to walk forward once more. “If only that wench gave birth to a son.” He lets out an annoyed sigh and you watch with teary eyes at the back of your only father walking away from you, his only daughter.

Father didn’t love mother, you knew that, but perhaps he hated her even more when she couldn’t give him the heir he had wanted. A son.

Is that why mother couldn’t love you? Because you weren’t born a boy?

Your feet feels frozen in place even after your father has disappeared in the house so large you have gotten lost here a few times. And the only one to comfort you is the only butler who has ever cared for you while everyone else ignores you, despite the fact that you are their lady.

Because in their eyes you are nothing but useless. Just as your mother and father had both called you.

.

.

.

“The young miss has a very kind heart, but I hope it doesn’t blind you from doing what is right.”

You look up at Mister Butler, a little confused with what he had just said, and tilt your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a small, bitter smile. “This world is very cruel, young miss, though I don’t have to say it for you to understand.” He bends down to your level where you sit in a large armchair, a financial book laid on your lap for some studying you’re forced to read. “There is good in kindness, but one day I hope you come to realize that not everyone deserves the lovely heart you have been given.”

“But,” you purse your lips, frowning slightly, “Mister said being kind is very good.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” He chuckles and lightly pats you on the head for remembering it. Your lips curl upward at the unspoken praise, liking it very much. “However, you cannot confuse kindness with naivety,” he tells you sternly. “You cannot keep letting everyone stomp on your kind heart, young miss.”

You don’t understand.

“I’m letting people stomp on me?”

His gaze is gentle, filled with fondness, but there is a hint of sadness within them and you wonder why. “Someday you will come to understand. And when that someday comes, I hope the young miss will not blame herself for being weak. Because you are not weak, you are strong.” He lays a gentle hand to your soft, fat cheek, with eyes that should have belonged to your own parents, your father. “You are so much stronger than anyone I have ever met. I hope you will continue to be even stronger than today, young miss.”

Mister Butler is a young man, someone still in his teens, almost an adult, but he sounds so mature and is much more of a father than your father can ever be.

He’s the only one kind to you, the only one to ever rush to your aid were you to ever get hurt.

“Mister?”

“Hm?” He replies in a soft tone, one that makes you want to cry because he’s kind, so kind. Why is he kind? Everyone else hates you and ignores you but why does he have to treat you with such kindness?

“Mister, I…” You swallow the lump in your throat, not wanting to ruin the moment even though you know he can see the tears that form along your waterline. You press a small hand over his much larger one, the one which holds your face. “I hope Mister finds your own happiness someday.”

He smiles. So sweet, so kind.

“And I hope the miss finds her happiness as well.”

“Then, it’s a promise.” You hold out your tiny pinkie before his face. “We’ll both find happiness, okay?”

He chuckles lightly at your childish antics but wraps his pinkie around yours anyways. “Alright, I promise. As long as it’ll make the young miss happy.”

“Mmn!” You exclaim. “I’ll be so happy when you find your happiness, Mister!”

.

.

.

January 20XX; Age Nine

“M..Mister…?” You can’t feel your heartbeat nor do you think you are breathing. But your body trembles and you can’t blink for even a split second.

You see red on your tiny hands, blood, and flashes of black and white appear then reappear so quickly you aren’t sure whether you’re just hallucinating or if this is real. But it can’t be real, right? This is just a nightmare. A nightmare you can wake from.

“Mister…” You say again but can hardly hear your own voice as an eerie sound screeches so loudly against your ears. The world falls into a blur but his black pupils which stare straight into you are so clear you can’t seem to snatch your eyes away. “Mister...a-answer me.”

Yet he says nothing. He doesn’t even move nor blink.

And you’re scared.

So scared.

“This is all your fault,” you hear a voice and know that it is your father.

You can hear his footsteps as he walks up from behind to stand right beside you. A black suit so crisp and clean, so different from your dishevel state, a dress stained with crimson blood.

“He’s dead because of you.” Your father’s voice is ruthless, emotionless, as he stands still while staring down at the dead corpse of the butler that you cared so much for.

“My...my fault…?” You can hardly move your lips and even though your voice is soft, he hears you.

“Because you cared so much about him,” he says, “I killed him.” Your heart stops. “I killed him because of you.”

The tears fall without any effort yet you stand frozen in time, unable to keep away from those eyes which stare right into your soul. “W...why…?” Your voice shakes.

“A mafia does not care for another. When you care for another, you develop feelings and feelings are a source of weakness. I have no need for weakness in my family.” He cares for nothing, so cold and aloof even in the face of a daughter who had just witnessed something so traumatic. “You need to understand that he made you weak. I only did what I had to do because you decided to step out of line. No daughter of mine should ever show weakness.”

He bends down beside you, lips so close to your ear as he whispers, “So this is all...your...fault.”

The words which slows to emphasize his point does things to you and you begin to feel your body trembling even more. Father hates that, you know he does, but you can’t help yourself because those eyes, the eyes which had always looked at you with kindness, suddenly look so accusing and filled with so much hatred.

You killed a man. The only person who ever cared for you. He lost his life because of you.

All of this is your fault.

All of it.

You killed your mother and now your butler.

Gone.

They’re all gone.

And it’s all because of you.

.

.

.

“Go in there.”

You stare at the door which leads to a completely white room with no sight of a speck of filth within, and for a moment a rush of fear envelopes you.

“F..Father…”

Yet his gaze does not waver. He doesn’t even spare you a glance, at the only daughter he has who shakes with fear right beside him. Hands held behind his back, eyes blank of emotions, yet twitches at your quivering voice which shows weakness.

“Are you telling me you’re scared?” You shrink in fear at his low voice so deep it brings chills down your spine. “What did I tell you about weakness? That word is not welcomed in this family.”

“But..Father...—”

“Do you wish to disobey my orders, child?”

His tone is absolute, brooking no argument whatsoever and you know more than anyone it would be in your best interest to follow the mafia boss’s orders. But you’re a kid, scared, afraid, yet when you look around to seek for help from...anyone, no one bats an eye your way.

And you realize, ah.

No one’s on my side.

No one.

No one pity’s a child, no one wishes to help, no one at all. Suddenly you miss Mister Butler all over again, a wave of guilt and sadness rushing over you and mixed with the emotions of fear.

You’re scared.

Scared.

And no one wants to help.

When your father finds you in too bad of a state to even move due to your fear, he gives a simple glance at one of his men and they pick you up so effortlessly then throw you right into the room.

Your shoulder aches with pain at the sudden impact so harsh and hard, but you ignore it to run over towards the door which slams shut before your face. A wall you cannot reach over even though they’re right there on the other side.

“F-Father!” You beg with tears falling from your eyes as you begin to bang on the door. “Father, please!”

“Reflect on yourself,” you hear him say and the last thing you hear is footsteps walking away from the door, wanting to never return again.

Just eight years old having lost the only person who cared for you, crying for help as you continually hit the door until your hands were numbed with pain.

No one comes.

.

.

.

The white walls make you go crazy.

It’s clean, so clean, and it makes you feel as if you’re that speck of dust that has ruined everything. Everything is perfect all around you except for the fact that you’re there. Even in that white room, you know you don’t belong.

Left alone to deal with your thoughts in a room so white and perfect.

But still, you try your best not to move around, afraid of making a mess, afraid of staining the room otherwise father will get mad. You can’t make him even more upset at you, he’s already angry.

You’re weak and useless and he wants you to reflect on yourself, to be better.

You can do that. You can be better.

You can make him proud.

Mother wasn’t ever proud of you nor could she even spare you a glance but you’ve been given another chance with your father. He’s paying some attention to you now so you can try all over again.

You’ll be a good daughter for him so that he won’t ever be disappointed in you.

You’ll be perfect like the walls which surround you.

.

.

.

You return to the room several times, however. Over and over again, thrown back into that same room which makes it so difficult to keep sane.

It gets too much, being left to your thoughts in such a perfect room you begin to want to make it less perfect.

Like you.

So you use the dirt of your shoes to begin stomping on the floors, the walls, streaking the white walls to paint it with dirt because it’s perfect, too perfect, whereas you’re made of filth.

You hate it.

You hate this so much.

All you want is your father’s love and attention but for some reason, you can never do anything right.

In his eyes you’re nothing but weak and filthy and useless.

A useless child.

A useless human.

You just want to be perfect.

.

.

.

April 20XX; Age Fourteen

“Ah!” Hitting your nose against someone, your small body falls down on the ground as you go on to soothe the pain away. “I-I’m sorry, Mister. I didn’t mean to—”

“Hey…” Tall, smelly, and a little bit old. He stares down at you from where he stands, a gaze you’ve seen before when people have the wrong intentions and your body begins to freeze with a chill running down your spine. “You’re the Reaper’s daughter, aren’t you?”

Oh no.

He grabs ahold of your face, squeezing it tightly as he holds you up so that your little feet are hanging off the ground.

You struggle, mouth muffled as fear overtakes you.

Reaper.

The mafia gang your father belongs to, your gang, and a name that represents your father.

But how does he know you? You thought you were careful, you thought you were doing so well to conceal yourself so that you wouldn’t cause your father any trouble and now here you are, captive under someone’s hold whose stares are enough to let you know just what sort of sinister things he’s hoping to do to you.

But hurting you won’t hurt father, it’ll only hurt you.

Yet father would be upset at you for getting caught and suddenly you’re scared for a whole different reason.

“P-Please…” The tears run down your cheeks and onto his hand as you struggle against him.

Yet he’s a powerful, strong man and you are nothing but a fourteen years old girl who knows nothing about defending herself.

You’re scared.

Father, help me!

Yet father never comes.

And father never would.

.

.

.

You escape on your own, wounded and in so much pain but the only thing on your mind is to return to your father’s side. He’ll save you, he’ll help you. Anyone trying to hurt the gang is a threat so your father has to help.

Soles so sore with blisters and blood running down your aching shoulder, you run and run as if it is the last thing you will ever do. Because you know stopping for even a second of rest would mean the enemy catching up and you can’t risk that.

You have to get back to father.

Father.

The doors open in a harsh slam and you see eyes instantly snapped in your direction.

Finally…

Ah, you’re back.

Home sweet home.

Your knees give in and you collapse onto the floor but you try your best to keep your consciousness in check. Even if you are to die at this very moment, you have to at least see father.

And although your body aches with so much pain, the only thing on your mind is how your father would react.

Will he watch you with terror? At the only daughter he has slowly withering away? Will he finally care for you? Will he finally see your potential?

After all, you escaped the enemy all on your own.

He’ll be proud, right? He’ll finally look at you, right?

You hear his familiar footsteps, ones you’ve come to know and distinguish from everyone else over the years and you see a light that shines bright in the world of the shadows.

Father…

You look up slowly, careful of your wounds but not careful enough to care because father’s finally here to see you. So you lean your heavy weight on one arm, the one that doesn’t hurt as much, and try your best to keep your eyes open as his footsteps approach before you.

There is a long silence that passes by but father makes no move once he’s stepped up right before you, you who lays right below his foot.

He looks down, eyes as cold and emotionless as ever, yet you still have hope for him to see your potential.

“Four days,” you hear him begin. “You’re weak.”

...What?

The light begins to dim, fading and fading as the darkness slowly engulfs it all over again.

“You even came back all battered up, barely even able to keep your eyes open.” He scoffs. “If you can’t even pass that test under two days, what use are you to me?” You see his black leather shoes turning from you, walking away, and hear the echo of his footsteps as it walks off. “Pathetic,” is the last thing you hear uttered from your father’s lips.

The shadows completely envelopes the light you once had and suddenly you aren’t sure if you’re breathing anymore.

Test.

This was all a test.

You were kidnapped, assaulted, hurt, and ran back in such battered up conditions yet your father pays no mind to the state you are in.

All of this was a plan of his own.

You were a tool for him, a pawn in his little game. He wanted to make use of you but you failed his test by coming back two days late.

The things you went through, the stuff you saw, none of that matters as your consciousness slowly slips away and your father is no longer in sight.

No one, not even a mere servant, spares a glance your way.

No one wants to help a hopeless child.

Useless and pathetic.

And you aren’t even sure if you’ll ever open your eyes again.

.

.

.

But you do open your eyes and you’re brought back to the White Room.

It isn’t white anymore but the name still sticks and you’re left all alone.

You failed him again, your father, and as you lay in the middle of the room with bandages wrapped all around your body, your mind falls blank with nothing but silence overtaking everything.

What’s there to think, after all?

You’re finally beginning to realize nothing you do in this world will ever please your father.

You are nothing but a tool for him.

A pawn.

.

.

.

June 20XX; Age Twenty

“You will be wed to Kim Namjoon.”

“Kim...Namjoon?” You hear he’s one of the most ruthless mafia bosses in all of the dark world. Cruel and intimidating and so, so powerful it exceeds even that of your father despite the fact that he is much younger than him.

Kim Namjoon, King of Bangtan. You tremble at even the sound of his name but hide your hands behind your back so that your father doesn’t notice.

“Yes, father,” you say.

You have to obey otherwise you will only disappoint your father even further.

He waits for a moment, simply taking in your reaction to this before speaking again. “You will do well at the engagement party. I do not expect you to impress him because you are nothing but a disappointment but behave well enough so that he does not flat out refuse your hand. Do not fail me.”

It isn’t a request, it’s an order.

Everything that leaves the mouth of your father is order and your heart skips so rapidly at just the thought of having to meet Kim Namjoon.

You will have to marry him and despite your fear, you cannot do anything that will cause him to not want you.

You don’t sleep a wink that night and the nights following the day of the engagement party.

.

.

.

“I have lovers,” is the first thing he tells you when you are given alone time with your soon-to-be husband. “Six of them.” Namjoon waits for your reaction which seems to shrink down and his eyes narrows, not particularly liking that. Did you expect love out of this?

Contrary to his belief, however, all you’re worried about is awaiting rejection and you tremble slightly in fear of how your father would react to this.

“Does this mean you will not marry me?” You ask him though too afraid of his answer.

“I did not say that.” Ah. You look relieved and Namjoon doesn’t know what to think. “However I have two conditions for you.”

“Yes,” you readily agree, up for anything at this point and he questions your desperation.

“You will be okay with my relationship with my lovers and you will not expect love out of this.”

Finally, you look up at him and his eyes narrow at the sight of relief filled within your eyes. Happiness, in a way, seems to shine in those pitiful eyes of yours. “Yes! I’ll oblige to your conditions, as long as you’re okay with me being your wife. I do not expect your love but even if I have to be a pawn for you. As long as I can be your wife, I am okay with anything.”

Ah, so you weren’t dissatisfied with the fact that he did not want to love you yet simply sought for a position of a wife.

He isn’t too sure what to think, however, as you look soft and pure in his eyes. After all, those are the ones that are the most maintenance in this world.

Well, as long as you uphold your promise.

“Then this conversation is over,” he says as he stands from his seat and holds a hand out for you. You look at it with a questioning gaze. “Your face may be hidden from the public but we have an image to uphold in front of the ones who know. Let us play our parts well.”

“...Yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Namjoon.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“If you are to be my wife, you must address me in that name.”

“...Yes, Namjoon.”

.

.

.

“I-I’m so sorry, please forgive me!” You quickly lower your head the second you bump into a man in the hallway, face heated with shame as you close your eyes shut.

It’s silent for a moment before you hear him speak.

“Ma’am, raise your head.” You do as he asks though avoid his gaze. “Stand up tall,” he commands, and though you are confused, you follow his order. It is then that you see him lower his head before you, gracing you with a respectful bow.

Your eyes widen, totally not expecting that since you’ve never received such respects from your servants back in your own home unless a visitor were to ever come. But that was always rare.

They like to pretend everything was okay and normal in front of others but behind closed doors, you’re nothing but a lowly daughter who means nothing to them. Especially your father. And it is because your father treats you like nothing that they feel it is okay to do so as well, despite the fact that your status is higher than theirs.

So seeing the man before you paying you with respect, you’re caught off guard and unconsciously find yourself wanting to follow along until he speaks again.

“Do not lower your head before me.” You pause in place, not knowing what to do, and when the man picks his head back up, you find him looking right at you. “You are the wife of Kim Namjoon. It would do you well to look the part.”

“...Right.”

He spares you a small smile, courteous and considerate of your feelings. “After all, you are in the second-highest position. If anyone were to find you bowing before me, it would look as if I do not respect you, ma’am.”

Respect.

It’s a little strange receiving it but you don’t completely hate it.

When he walks away after another bow, you realize this is one of Namjoon’s lovers.

Mr. Kim Seokjin.

.

.

.

“So, what do you think of Namjoon’s wife?”

“She’s pretty,” Jimin shrugs at Taehyung’s question.

“Quiet.”

“Shy.”

Yoongi and Jungkook both add.

Hearing their answers, Seokjin thinks back on the moment you had bumped into him and profusely went on to apologize despite the position you’re in. “She’s...kind.”

“That’s obvious,” Hoseok scoffs.

“No, I mean…” He purses his lips. “She exceeds this aura of respect towards everyone, as if position matters not and everyone is just human before her eyes. Makes me wonder how she was raised.”

“Well, she doesn’t have much knowledge about the mafia despite living as a mafia’s daughter,” Jimin notes.

“So she was raised preciously by a father who wanted to conceal her from the world he was born into.”

“Why would anyone want to do that?” Yoongi asks after Hoseok.

“To preserve purity in a world that shuts it away.” They turn at the sound of Namjoon who sits on his chair, elbows rested on his desk as his fingers intertwine in the middle. “There are rumors of how her mother died, either from sickness or murder. Either way, Y/N was pretty young. Perhaps that’s part of the reason why her father couldn’t expose her too much into this world.”

“But now she’s out of her father’s protection and in your hands,” Taehyung says and with a grin Namjoon’s way, he watches for the boss’s reaction. “How are you planning to deal with her?”

Namjoon’s silent for a moment, thinking, before he speaks again. “Purity and innocence...it isn’t something that should ever be forcefully taken from someone.” He knows from experience, they all do, and so they understand it more than anyone else “Preserve it,” he commands, “as much as you can.”

Outside the door of the office, your eyes cast to the floor of the hall, not knowing how to truly think about all of this.

They think you’ve been raised preciously.

A little princess who’s adored by her father and not truly understanding the world of the mafia. Perhaps you don’t understand, but what you can surely say is that your innocence and purity have already been taken away from you.

Watching your mother die.

Watching your Mister Butler get killed.

Your father may have spared you the studies of the mafia but he never kept you away from the acts of it. The killing, the pain, the misery.

You’ve witnessed it all and so much more.

.

.

.

“Oh!”

Yoongi and Jimin both freeze in place when they come face to face with you and realized Jimin hadn’t cleaned up since just returning from a mission.

He cringes, knowing there are blood stains are on his blazer, and takes a step to hide behind his hyung.

Great, just when Namjoon told us to preserve her innocence the other day. Jimin wishes to disappear completely.

“Are you alright?” You ask them, voice filled with so much worry and concern as your head peeks out to try and check up on Jimin.

But Yoongi doesn’t give you the luxury and instead takes a step to block your view, causing you to immediately look away with embarrassment as you’ve realized you were about to cross into their bountries. “Forgive me,” you say.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Jimin is fine, you don’t have to worry, ma’am.”

“It’s not even my blood,” the younger one mutters under his breath.

But you hear it, of course you do. Yet you pretend you hadn’t.

If they wish to preserve your innocence, if they see your facade as real then you have to keep up the act, otherwise who knows what your father will do. You have to at least play your part as a pawn in this whole game.

“I know this job is dangerous and you may be used to it but please get yourself checked up. There are many people who care about you, Mr. Park.”

“...Yes, ma’am.”

A gentle smile. Though you may have heard the blood hadn’t belonged to him, the concern for him is still real. Mafias do indeed live a dangerous life and every day they’re fighting for something.

When the two of them give you a small respective bow and begin to walk away, you call them back. “Um, by the way…” They turn your way, giving you their full attention unlike how it was back home. You scratch the back of your head, avoiding their strong gaze as you speak. “It feels a little uncomfortable being addressed as ma’am so, if it’s alright with you, please address me with my name.”

Huh.

“If it’s an order from the miss, then—”

“No, no!” You quickly look up with both hands shaking from side to side at Jimin’s reply. “Th-that wasn’t an order, it was a suggestion! I..I’d just...I’d prefer it if you addressed me less formally, but if you aren’t comfortable with that then—”

“Alright.”

You blink when Yoongi cuts you off before you can go rambling off, and when you look at the two of them, their faces are less grim, less tense, and a sense of ease begins to fall upon you.

Is this what it feels like to have a mutual connection with someone?

You aren’t sure but it feels nice, it feels really nice.

“Thank you.”

They tilt their heads to the side, brows furrowing with slight confusion upon your reply but you shake it off with a shake of your head.

“Then, have a good day.”

You can still feel their eyes on you when you walk away.

.

.

.

“Be careful.”

Hoseok laughs aloud at Taehyung’s words. “Come on, you’re our hacker, so whether I like it or not, you’re going to be tracking my every move anyways. So what’s the point in worrying over trivial things?”

Taehyung’s brows furrow at his worries being challenged. “That doesn’t mean I have control over the reckless things you do as well as outside factors that may inevitably harm you.”

“Aw, aren’t you cute?” The older man shrugs it off with a boop to his nose, causing the young hacker to frown at the gesture.

“That’s strange, don’t do that.”

“One of these days you’re going to find that quite endearing.”

Taehyung huffs. “As if. You keep doing that as if any of us finds it endearing.”

“You guys are just too serious about everything.” With that, he goes on his merry way, as if he isn’t about to walk into a solo mission that may pose him many dangers.

As you watch from the balcony upstairs, you hadn’t realized Hoseok knew you were there the whole time until he spun about and sent you a salute before walking out the doors.

Hm.

A love like that exists after all.

Well, you shouldn’t be surprised since Namjoon made sure you knew your position in this marriage before marrying him. Still, you’re surprised to see their interactions with each other.

Kind people who are willing to preserve your innocence. Kind people capable of love and loving. People like that exist in this world of darkness.

As you turn around to return to your bedroom, you realize Bangtan is truly different from the home of the Reapers.

.

.

.

“Namjoon, are you alright?”

He looks up just for a brief glance your way before returning his focus back on the papers before him. “You do not need to concern yourself with me. We may be husband and wife but you are not obligated to care for my needs. Our marriage is only a contract after all.”

Right.

You purse your lips slightly at his harsh words but walk in through the door to his office either way, perhaps because yes, Namjoon may be scary, but in this life you can never find anyone else more scary than your very own father. Though a part of this bravery may be your hope in him having some humanity left in him. After all, Namjoon is capable of love.

Six lovers whom you believe he very much cares about. Not only that but he cares for a stranger enough to want to preserve her so-called innocence.

A man like him would not harm you in the way your father had done.

At least, that’s what you’re hoping for.

“Forgive me, I do not mean to cross your boundaries but I am not speaking as your contractual wife, Namjoon.” You step further into the dim-lit room, filled with nothing but black. The furniture, his desk, the walls. Almost everything was decorated with black. When you stand before his desk, careful but reserved, you lay a hand against your heart, eyes respectfully lowered. “I am speaking to you as myself. As Y/N. Not Mrs. Kim.”

You hear the tapping of his keyboard stop clicking, as if intrigued by your words, and look up at the man who has become your husband. “So I’d like to ask again; are you alright, Namjoon?”

He lays against the seat of his armchair, a leg crossed over the other. “Well,” a glance at the papers and documents before him and he lets out a small sigh, “I would prefer to take a break but I cannot afford that.” He remains cautious, not willing to let his guard down whatsoever and for a man of his position, you respect that of him.

You feel yourself letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding onto. Perhaps because even though your father is the scariest person you have ever met, that still doesn’t mean no one else scares you. Namjoon didn’t lash out at you for bothering him while in the middle of his work nor does he look angry in the slightest.

But then again, he’s a mafia boss, good at concealing his emotions.

Just as you try your hardest to not show any weakness before him.

“Have you eaten?” You ask him gently. “Surely you can spare some time for a small lunch break?”

“No.” He dismisses your concern coldly to return to his computer and resume the tappings. “You’ve checked up on me, Y/N. I may have a lot of work but as you can see, I’m doing fine. You can leave now.” You stall despite his order and he spares a small side glance your way. “You hesitate.”

“Well yes, because…” You think of something to say, reluctant to leave him holed up in his office. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No.”

A man like him is hard to crack but you understand.

In a way, he’s like your father but in another way, he is so much different from that man.

You aren’t sure what to think, all you know is that you feel more comfortable around him than you can ever be around your father.

But hearing his answer, you nod in reply, not wanting to be more of a bother, and begin to turn on your heels. Only when you’ve reached the door does he call out to you.

“If you are truly bored and want to be of some help, check up on Jeon Jungkook for me,” you hear him say, stopping you in tracks. “He tends to overwork himself and doesn’t know when to stop.”

Jeon Jungkook.

“Is that the youngest of your lovers?” You ask, trying to remember the face of Jungkook.

Namjoon nods. “He should be in the basement. Walk straight down the hall, take your first right, and you’ll find yourself in the training hall.”

.

.

.

He really does have a heart and is so much different from your father. If you weren’t someone who would show respect for his relationship outside your arranged marriage, you were sure Namjoon would instantly call off the engagement and want nothing to do with you.

He isn’t someone who cares about you. He’ll look after you as a duty for the marriage but besides that mutual agreement, the two of you really have no need to speak to one another.

Yet you aren’t someone who wants to live a life like that.

The mafia world is a scary place and seeing how kind Namjoon can be from time to time, as well as his own partners showing that aspect, a part of you yearn for it. But you know more than anyone you cannot be selfish.

You’re only here as a pawn after all, exchanged between your father and Namjoon.

Your only job is to continue being a good puppet so that the two Kings can rule their kingdoms in their respective territories.

You have no need to get close to anyone.

But you think Namjoon understands your intentions upon not wanting to live in such a way, hence he agreed to let you run a routine he’d usually do himself. You managed to get through to him today, will that change in the future?

He may not loathe you and go out of his way to stay away from you as your father was towards your mother, but Namjoon doesn’t necessarily like you either. He’s indifferent towards you. But this sort of indifference is one you welcome, not in the way you had been treated by the lower subordinates in the Reaper’s home.

No one hated you but no one cared for you.

No, perhaps some did hate you.

If your father did something to you, they’d simply turn a blind eye as if you weren’t worth the attention.

You let out a small sigh and shake your head lightly to rid of the memories. You’re in Bangtan’s home now, and so far everything has been much better than with the Reapers.

Let’s just hope it stays this way.

When you’ve reached the end of the hallway and take a right, you find yourself in the training hall, just as Namjoon said.

A few subordinates are training respectfully, but once you’ve walked right in and someone catches sight of you, you freeze up in place when they address you.

“G-Good afternoon ma’am!” He takes a full 90 degree bow and the others, whose attentions have been stolen, quickly follow along with the same gesture and greeting. Loud and boisterous, you jump slightly at their voices, but when you find them unable to even meet your gaze, you feel the beat of your heart calming.

Are they scared of you?

Well, it’s true you’re the wife of Kim Namjoon, their ruthless and cold boss who holds such intimidating authority, as well as being the daughter of the Reaper, whom not many would like to cross paths with. Are they worried you would share the same personality?

You watch them from where you stand, a bit surprised at the way they refuse to budge but do not dare to look up to meet your gaze, and a part of you feels for them.

But, has anyone ever looked at you in fear before? You’ve always been on the receiving end, this is quite a turning point for you.

Yet you don’t like it one bit.

So you curl the corners of your lips, hoping it can ease the tension you’ve caused in the room. “Yes, good afternoon. Forgive me for interrupting your training, I did not mean to intrude.”

Their eyes widen at your gentle voice and even more so at the kind smile you’ve graced them with.

“N-Not at all, ma’am!” It’s cute the way his cheeks stain with a soft red.

“Please resume your training, I was just looking for Mr. Jeon.”

“Me?” Jungkook emerges from a doorway, eyeing the members of Bangtan and wondering why they still weren’t returning to their training. One stare alone is enough to get them back on their feet before he walks your way and looms over you with his taller figure.

He wears a black tank which shows great definition of his build and you almost don’t know where to look without looking flustered. Yet Jungkook shows no concern.

“Ah, um...I came on behalf of Namjoon, Mr. Jeon—”

“Jungkook.”

You blink. “Huh?”

He clears his throat awkwardly as he scratches the back of his head. “I don’t do well with formal conversations so just call me Jungkook, Miss Y/N.”

A small smile falls upon your face. “Then please, just call me Y/N.”

He hums. “Well? Why’d Namjoon ask you to come here?”

Short and straight to the point. You expected this. “He wanted me to check up on you, asked me to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard.”

Jungkook lets out a sigh. “Such trivial worries. I’m fine, you can leave.”

So similar he is to Namjoon, uncaring for the condition of his body and not wanting anyone else to worry. Maybe if you were closer to him, he’d be a little less blunt about it but you don’t blame him. It’s hard to trust anyone when your life is in constant danger for even just living.

Still, he’s put you in an awkward position and you’re unsure of what to do before your eyes catch sight of the blood dripping from his bruised knuckles.

A small gasp leaves you. “Your hands.”

He looks down, unconcerned. “It’s small, this isn’t anything to get worked up on.”

Feeling a little bit frustrated, you frown at his indifference. “Even the smallest cuts can be quite harmful, Jungkook, and it’s those small cuts that people tend to ignore which can cause an infection and eventually turn into something bigger.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s bleeding!”

He’s a bit taken back by your insistence because just mere seconds ago you were standing there looking pretty and gentle and now here you are, scolding him and getting upset at something so insignificant.

You’re a bit like Seokjin.

“Surely you have a med-kit around here?”

Knowing you probably weren’t going to back down, he takes one look over his shoulder and someone is rushing to hand you a first aid kit.

“Thank you,” you nod at them before returning to avert your attention over to Jungkook once more. “Um, do you mind sitting?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh but obliges to your request and you follow along, pulling a chair over to sit across from him.

“May I touch you?” He takes one look your way and finds it strange how your expression is quite serious when asking him that. You take consent seriously, possibly understanding that some people don’t like it when others touch them in the slightest way, and those eyes which watch him with such concern and unwilling to make a move without his permission, Jungkook finds himself looking away first.

He gives you a nod and feels the gentle touch of your hand as you begin tending to his wounded knuckles.

What a strange thing you are.

Perhaps this is the result of someone who was raised preciously and kept hidden from the cruel side of the mafia. Then again, is there even a good side at all to the world the both of you live in?

He’s unsure but the way you carefully tend to his hands with such precision and gentleness, perhaps there is indeed a light to this cruel world.

Your father hid you safely from the dark side. How he did that, Jungkook’s unsure, but for someone to be so kind and gentle towards everyone she meets, he knows you must have most definitely been raised in a loving household.

.

.

.

Ever since you walked into the training hall that day, things seem to have lightened up for the most part. You’re greeted by the lower members whenever you pass by, who for some reason, finds it very exciting to be greeted back.

It’s almost like a child who finally caught the attention of her father.

Yet in those fleeting moments, you think you’ve made their days by simply smiling their way.

It’s a nice feeling, being accepted and welcomed in the house of Bangtan, a life so much different from your previous family.

“I was wondering why the atmosphere had suddenly brightened these days but there’s only one answer to that.” A simple wink your way and you fall flustered at Hoseok’s bold gesture. “You’re quite a charmer, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “N-no way. I only just greeted them in return.”

“Ah but a greeting from a pretty girl goes a long way, don’t you know?”

“W-what-?” He called you pretty, no one’s ever called you pretty before and you aren’t sure how to exactly react to that. “U-um…—”

“Are you flirting around again?” You turn to find Seokjin walking up to the two of you with an unimpressed expression.

“Aw, is someone jealous?”

The eldest lets out an exasperated sigh. “Please ignore him, Y/N.”

“Come on, Jin.” Draping his arm around the older one’s shoulder, Hoseok grins at his boyfriend. “I’m just trying to make acquaintance with Namjoon’s wife. Something wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with that but the way you’re going about it will only make the other party uncomfortable.”

“Well a-actually,” you scratch the back of your head unsurely, “it’s true I did feel a little awkward but Hoseok hadn’t made me uncomfortable, so it’s alright.”

Hoseok chuckles at the way your cheeks have reddened. “See?”

Seokjin sighs again as he turns his focus on you. “You don’t have to be polite to this man, if he’s making you uncomfortable, just say it and he’ll stop. He doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

“What?” The man in question dramatically gasps. “Jin, you’re so cruel.”

“Though what he said was right,” he ignores him to continue talking to you. “You may not have noticed it but it is a little lighter here with you around. Sometimes just a simple smile is enough to ease the tension everyone feels whenever they wake to live this world all over again.” He smiles your way, a genuine smile, and when you find Hoseok nodding and smiling as well, your heart flutters and you can almost feel your tears.

But you hold it back because it isn’t good to cry in front of people.

Father said it’s rude.

Still, you’re touched by Seokjin’s words because for once in your life, you feel useful, you feel accepted and cared for.

These people are different from the home of the Reapers. Bangtan is different.

.

.

.

“This isn’t going to work if we don’t have someone to distract them long enough for Jimin to escape.”

“A distraction for fifteen minutes is quite the feat,” Seokjin agrees after Namjoon. “We’ll be lucky if we can even hold them off for ten.”

Even after they’ve dismissed the meeting, it seems being stuck on a plan isn’t something that can easily slip the minds of the leaders until the next day. Namjoon particularly feels conflicted and frustrated at the pace things are going.

He lets out a heavy sigh, not liking this. “However, it’s crucial for their leader to get distracted without causing a big commotion.”

“He’s known to be a womanizer,” Taehyung states. “But if we bring any of our people in, he’ll know something is amiss immediately. The guy can detect even the greatest decoy. In this case, being too good is a fault.”

Taking that information in, Namjoon thinks for a while, his head lost in thoughts before he turns to the hacker again. “Any particular type he likes?”

Being the one who did his research on the man, Taehyung relays the information to the boss. “Young and kind,” he says. “The innocent ones. He has a big ego, makes him feel more superior if it’s from someone who has a pure and gentle nature.”

The innocent type. Pure and gentle.

“No one in the gang shares that personality except one.”

Brows furrowing, Jungkook narrows his gaze at Namjoon. “You’re not thinking…”

He looks up without batting an eye. “If we want things to work out, she’s our best shot.”

“What happened to preserving her innocence?” Yoongi asks, totally against this.

“I’m not exposing her to anything except for a little distracting job for just fifteen minutes. And besides, you’ll be in the background keeping an eye on her.” He says, knowing Yoongi’s the best at stealth and blending in with the crowd to not attract attention to himself.

Still, he shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Womanizers can be quite a lot to handle and you want to send your innocent little wife into the lion’s den? You can’t be serious, Namjoon.”

The boss stays level-headed, understanding Yoongi’s opposition but also knowing that this isn’t something he can toss aside. “I’m serious about this mission. She was sent to me as a pawn, why not use her for my benefit?”

Hoseok sucks in a breath of air after hearing those words. “You sound like a real crappy asshole right now.”

“I’ll be an asshole if it means getting this mission done in the most efficient way.”

Knowing it won’t be easy to change Namjoon’s mind, Jimin tries to think of something else. “Couldn’t you ask Y/N first? Her permission matters too, Namjoon. If she’s willing to do it, we’ll work at an efficient rate. If she doesn’t, it’ll be difficult for her to handle if you’re going to force this on her. In that case, our best bet is to find someone else.”

Right, of course.

Your cooperation on this would help him big time.

And so Namjoon stands from his seat and leaves out the door before anyone can say anything else.

.

.

.

“I need your help with something.” You jump at his voice and the opening of the door without any warnings and Namjoon takes a step back as he realizes he should have approached you in a better manner. So clearing his throat, he gives you time to recover. “Forgive me.”

“N-No, um…” Help, he said, he needed your help with something. A part of you feels so excited someone has finally asked you for something but you know you can’t show that before your husband’s eyes. “Help?” You ask him in a composed manner though deep inside you’re shaking with anticipation. Your husband wants you to help him with something. Finally, you can be of use. “What would you like me to help you with?”

“A mission,” he states and you blink.

A mission. Well in a way, that was expected.

“What does this mission entail me to do?”

“If you’re up for it, I would like you to stall someone, distract them enough to last about fifteen minutes as the team does their job.”

“Distract?” You tilt your head with confusion. “Is this person...a rival boss?”

“Indeed.”

The way he says it so bluntly without batting an eye, you feel shivers running down your spine. “Wait, Namjoon, are you asking me to...do that sort of distraction?” Brows arched with conflict, you turn from him to begin pacing around the room. “I...With all due respect, I-I don’t think I would be the right person for you. First of all, this is a rival boss we’re talking about, second of all I’m inexperienced, third of all, e-even if we don’t have that sort of relationship and I have no intention of finding a lover for myself, it would feel wrong to be in the presence of another man doing whatever I can to distract him.”

“You’re our best choice.”

“And why is that?”

“This man prefers women who are pure and gentle, as well as inexperienced. It’s his way of seeking control.”

Your expression twists with disgust and shock even just hearing about it and suddenly you feel darkness downing in on you.

Dark.

Dark.

It’s so dark and cold you know it won’t be easy to hide your trembling for much longer if Namjoon continues to stay in your room. You have to find a way to reject his offer, push him out of the room.

But.

But...he asked for help. The first man to ever do so. Perhaps he found some worth in you or you’re just the easiest target in his eyes. Either way, this is the first time someone’s ever turned to you seeking for help. If you succeed, you’ll finally feel useful for once.

Everyone else has always turned you away whether you asked or not. But this is the first time someone’s sought out for you.

Yet it’s sick because you know he’s only doing this because you’re a pawn and you know you mean nothing to him. But a part of you wants to feel worthy, useful, someone he can rely on.

With your head down in the dark room and your hair covering your face, you aren’t sure what to do even as you feel his eyes on you.

“You have until this evening to decide,” he says. So cold, so unapproachable, and you feel worse. “Give me an answer by then.”

You hear his footsteps beginning to echo away and just as his hand touched the doorknob, your voice brings him to a sudden halt.

“Can you...guarantee my safety?” You ask him, serious and hopeful. “I do not like putting myself at the center of attention nor is it recommended of me that I show my face to a man who may remember it. That may backfire on you.”

Namjoon turns around to face you, whose face is still hidden. “You’ll be attending a masquerade party, therefore your face will not be enough for him to remember.” You nod. “Min Yoongi will be watching over you as well as Kim Taehyung, who will be monitoring your position and hear everything through the hidden device in the mask. If the man ever does something you are not in favor of, Yoongi will save you. All you have to do is give him a simple glance of help. However, you must remember that fifteen minutes is what you will have to give us. Anything less than that, Jimin’s life might fall into danger. If you can give him more time, that would be commendable but I will not force you to stay any longer than fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

A minute itself can feel quite long when you’re in a plank position. You wonder how much fifteen minutes will feel if you were to be in the hands of a disgusting man.

No.

You’ve gone through that before and although that man had different intentions, it’s all the same.

But then again, you’re a pawn and Namjoon doesn’t care what happens to you. He only cares for his lovers, and especially Jimin who will be doing the most dangerous part of the mission. You’re just a stepping stool to help them reach that goal.

This is what your life has become.

First a useless nothing, now a pawned wife.

“I’ll do it.”

You have nothing to lose after all. Not really.

.

.

.

Even so, it’s scary knowing you’ll be walking right into the lion’s den. You’ve never done something like this because your father had always had a fear of you ruining things. Hence anytime he has to go out, you’ll be left behind like some insignificant pet who means nothing to him yet still yearns for his attention.

Sometimes you wonder whether you’re the sick one rather than him. After all, even after all the things he’s done to you, you still crave for a father’s love.

The very thing you know you will never receive in this life.

But sometimes it’s nice to dream, to wish, to pretend.

When you walk out in a soft champagne-colored dress, beautiful and glittery all around, Yoongi halts in his steps and has forgotten to formally greet you, as he usually would. You aren’t sure why but the sudden attention he has for you makes you feel a bit insecure and you’re unsure of how to react.

“U-um,” you stammer, looking away with soft pink adorning your cheeks. “Shall we get going? I heard Jimin has already arrived there. Will it just be the two of us?” You don’t see anyone else here besides the two of you.

It takes a second for him to return from his daze. “Taehyung will be with you,” he says, noting at the mask you have in hand.

“Right.”

“Well then, shall we?” He asks and holds a gentlemanly hand out for you.

You take it with some slight hesitation and he leads you to where you’ll be riding to your dreaded destination.

The ride isn’t silent, contrary to your belief because Yoongi always looks so reserved and serious when you watch him from afar. And perhaps that is in his nature, but he’s kind enough to engage you in some meaningless conversation and you think, perhaps, he’s doing it as a way to calm your nerves.

Because Yoongi knows you must be frightened to go on your first mission which may even endanger someone if you don’t do well. Yet he mentions nothing about it for your sake and instead keeps the conversation light so that you felt a little better than you were before.

And for that, you appreciate him.

Maybe this is kindness, a little different from Mister Butler, but he still shows concern and is looking out for you, and you find yourself yearning for more of it.

But you know more than anyone that wishing for something you can’t have will never turn out well. Yoongi is a man who belongs to the world of the shadows, just as you are, but the two of you are on completely different levels. Whereas he’s a respected leader, you’re just some insignificant daughter whose only purpose is to be exploited as a pawn.

You’re scared.

Yet the feel of Yoongi’s hand as he escorts you into the room makes you feel safer than you have ever felt before.

It’s different from Mister Butler indeed, but you aren’t complaining.

This warmth is lovely.

Quite lovely.

Until it’s snatched away from you when he begins to slip away. You search for him, head immediately snapped towards his back and as if he can feel your gaze on him, Yoongi turns around to indulge in your childish moment.

“If I am seen with you, that may alarm the enemy,” he tells you in a low, low voice so that no one else can hear. And you know. You know, yet it doesn’t take the fear away. How can it? “Taehyung is with you,” he reminds you, and even though he’s wearing a mask which hides his entire face, you think he’s giving you a small, reassuring smile.

Perhaps it’s in the eyes.

“I’ll be watching.” And with that, Yoongi leaves the scene and your eyes can only watch the back of his suit, which blends in well with the crowd.

You take a moment to yourself, thinking about all of this, before Taehyung’s voice whispers right into your ears.

“We gave you a brief description of what he looks like, though it may be hard for someone who’s never seen him to know who he is under all those masks. Walk around, you might find him that way.”

Right.

Focus on the mission, stay no more than fifteen minutes with the man and you’re good. You’ll be able to go home.

Easy as pie.

You take a deep breath and finally look up to scan the crowd.

A step forward, then another, and you realize something is wrong with this crowd.

They’re all...staring at you.

Some are subtle and awkward, some are much bolder, but either way, you know their attention is focused on you when you’ve made eye contact with a few of them.

Fear crawls all over your body and you freeze up right in the middle of it all.

Have you already gotten found out? But then why isn’t Taehyung saying anything and why can’t you find Yoongi in the crowd? You tremble slightly at the fear of having already messed up without even doing anything. You’re a walking disaster, useless as your father has always told you, and when you look away and take a stumbling step back, that’s when you realize something is different about you.

The color of your dress is much lighter than anyone out there. They’re all wearing some sort of dark color while you’re the only one who has on something soft and pretty.

There’s...no way Namjoon chose this dress for you on purpose, right?

He’s a meticulous man who plans out everything beforehand so this has to be on purpose.

Your brows furrow and you duck your head as you begin retracing your steps in hopes of hiding along with the crowd. It’s an uncomfortable feeling to be at the center of attention. You hate it.

And when someone stands before you with a purposeful stride, you almost stumble back if it wasn’t for his strong hands to steady your stance once more.

“Ah!” You bite your lip with embarrassment. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t,” he says with a charming and alluring voice you find yourself meekly looking up to meet his gaze. Under half his mask, he smiles your way. “I approached you on purpose, darling.”

“O-oh…”

“Not used to the attention?”

“Well…” You aren’t sure how to answer, feeling quite awkward and unsure of what to do in this situation. “N..Not really.”

“It’s him,” you hear Taehyung’s voice against your ears all of a sudden and almost instantly you straighten up with fear.

Well, he’s approached you first. Now all you have to do is keep his attention focused on you and only you. But the question is how.

“I can help with that, if you’d like. No one would dare approach you if you’re with me.”

You’ve certainly gotten lucky tonight.

From the corner of your eyes, you find Yoongi hidden behind a few guests, watching you carefully, but you know not to look away or make any sudden movement that would bring him suspicion. With the eyes of Yoongi right on you, Jimin who is hidden away and ready at any moment, and Taehyung who is listening and watching in from your mask, you take a deep breath.

“Thank you,” you tell the man and lay your hand on top of the hand he has offered you.

And so the seconds begin.

.

.

.

He brought you to a place away from the crowd, inside a room where two guards stay at their post standing on both sides of the outside door.

It’s a private room hidden from all eyes, including Yoongi.

You’re almost too afraid to walk in with him but know that you can’t mess up the mission. Jimin has probably already made his move and besides, Taehyung’s with you.

Kind of.

“Don’t be afraid, come have a seat.”

Fifteen minutes. Just fifteen minutes.

You can hold on for just fifteen minutes with a man who you’ve never seen before, known to be an enemy of your husband. If you mess up, consequences will be met and you’ll be responsible not only for your life but for the life of one of your husband’s lovers, a man he truly cares about.

You have to do well otherwise you’ll never be worth anything and Namjoon may even give you back to your father.

That is the very thing you know can never happen.

If you’re brought back to your father, who knows what he’ll do to you. He hasn’t laid a hand on you yet but psychologically everything has fallen down so deep you’re left traumatized by everything related to your father.

The seconds pass by so slow you can count each breath you take as it rings loudly against your ear.

You were afraid your meek and awkward behavior would have turned him off but it seems to only entice the man further.

It’s a good sign, meaning he won’t ignore you to go back to his own doing and put Jimin’s life in danger but on the other hand, you hate this. You hate this so much.

You feel worse and worse by the second, as if an object meant to simply be tossed around until someone was finally done with you.

Yet it seems no one’s done yet, as if everything has only just begun and you hate it.

You hate it so much.

Fifteen minutes.

You watch as the last tick hits the twelve marker but freeze in place.

“If you can give him more time, that would be commendable but I will not force you to stay any longer than fifteen minutes.” Namjoon’s words echo into your ears and you know, you know fifteen minutes has passed yet you can’t seem to move an inch.

You’re left in a daze until you feel the hand of the man touch yours and you flinch at the touch.

He smirks your way, mask now off while you have yet to take yours off. “What are you afraid of, hm? We’re all alone here.”

That’s the problem.

“You’re very cute, you know,” he inches closer to you while you stay cautious but it doesn’t take long for him to touch the side of your mask, almost as if caressing your face. “I would love it if you showed me your pretty face, darling.”

Gross.

Disgusting.

“How can you know my face is pretty? I could be quite hideous and disappoint you for all we know.”

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” He chuckles lightly. “What an adorable little thing you are. It’s a shame you’re too shy. Though that is a charm I quite like about you.”

Narrowing your gaze his way, you doubt the sincerity of this man. “You...find me likable?”

“I prefer the pure and innocent ones,” he says, lowering his voice as his face nears yours with both hands holding your face. You hold your breath, trying to stay as calm as you can despite the fact that your whole body may be trembling. Then, in a small whisper so close to you, he says, “They’re easier to corrupt.”

You think you stopped breathing.

.

.

.

“...You’re hurt.”

“It isn’t your fault!” Jimin quickly says when you walk into the infirmary, shocked and frozen in place when you find his arm being bandaged up. He looks away awkwardly as he scratches the back of his head. “This was actually from the enemies when we were fighting. We all knew it was inevitable for me to get hurt in some way so don’t blame yourself.”

When you look up to meet the other’s gaze, they share a nod your way. “So...this wasn’t my doing?”

“No,” Jimin says and grace you with a smile. “You gave me plenty of time and more. If it wasn’t for the extra minutes, it might not have worked out for us.”

So fifteen minutes was indeed not enough time for him.

You did well.

You gave Jimin enough time to return safely from the mission.

“Good job.” You feel the hand of Hoseok who ruffles your hair with a bright grin. “You did wonderfully for your first mission. Any other amateurs would have messed it up.”

“Mhm.” Jungkook nods. He’s quiet but you feel his support.

“Hoseok, what did I say about messing around?” Seokjin on the other hand sighs as he walks up to the two of you to drag Hoseok away.

You shyly chuckle as you fix your hair from the bird’s nest he’s made of you. Yoongi watches you from where he stands, a polite and small smile your way and you reflect it with one of your own as a thank you.

Taehyung and Namjoon on the other hand are blank canvases.

.

.

.

“Why do you look like that?” Namjoon’s brows furrow slightly when you walk into his office, steps slow and timid. “You did your part and helped Jimin get out safely.”

“Right.”

He takes his attention off his desktop with a narrowed gaze. “So then what is it?”

You aren’t sure how to put the words out there — well, maybe you do and perhaps you’re just afraid. But you know you have to speak in order for him to understand. A part of you wants to turn around and walk out the door like nothing happened but another part of you wants to stand your ground.

You’ve never been like this towards your father but if there’s anything you’ve learned while living here, it’s that Namjoon doesn’t dismiss everything that comes out from your lips. You just hope he’s a little more lenient after you helped out with a mission that could have endangered one of his lover’s life.

“It’s about the mission,” you begin when you’ve stepped up to his desk.

“What about it?”

You hesitate, hands tightly holding onto one another you can feel your nails digging into your skin. “...May I speak my mind?”

Namjoon crosses a leg over the other and leans back against his armchair, eyes never leaving your figure. “Speak.”

“I know I was sent here as a pawn and for that, you have every right to use me as you’d like. I want to help, I like helping, and if there is any mission you find value in me to be a part of, I will not hesitate to lend a hand.” There is a slight pause and he feels a ‘but’ coming. “However,” there it is. But you hesitate again, as if speaking any further would cause you to show him your weakness and he waits. You swallow the lump resting in your throat and clench your teeth before continuing on. “However, I would very much appreciate it if you never ask me to do that sort of mission ever again. You said it yourself, I’m pure and innocent, and I would appreciate it if I continue to be that way without anyone forcing me to do anything against my will. Whether that means another man...or you.”

Namjoon blinks.

The way your voice shakes slightly yet filled with so much strength as you stand up for your rights, he’s a bit taken back by you.

You came back steady on your feet with no sign of falter. In fact, you were even smiling as you chatted with Yoongi before heading on to change out of your formal attire. Yoongi’s report also mentioned nothing about you falling apart and feeling too scared to go on with the mission.

So something must have happened to you in that private space the enemy had taken you in.

Yet something’s strange about the way you hold yourself before him. There are tears along your waterline, glistening under the moonlight, however you make a point to not let it roll down your cheeks. Your head is held up high, standing up straight, and Namjoon wonders why you aren’t breaking down if that was enough to cause you to make such a request.

He takes a glance at the report that was handed to him from Yoongi and considers his options. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

“No, I...I want a yes or a no.”

Something happened and you’re not going to elaborate on it.

But you’re brave enough to look your husband in the eyes and demand for such a thing.

A pawn.

Hm.

“Alright,” he says and looks you straight back in the eyes. “You may leave now.”

You hesitate to do so, taking a moment to keep his gaze, before being the first to look away. “..Thank you.” And with that, he watches as his wife walks out the door of his office.

.

.

.

You can’t stay still, the memories of that man still so clearly imprinted into your mind you hate it. You hate it so much. The room is dark as you pace back and forth, unable to sit and try as you might, you can’t clear your head of the thoughts of that man.

Your hands tremble beneath you uncontrollably even though you’ve tried so hard to keep them still. Your body shakes, shivers are brought down your spine when you can't get rid of the memories.

A scary man.

So scary.

But you can’t rely on anyone, not even yourself, to help you to calm down.

You aren’t sure how you’re going to recover from this but...it isn’t anything new, right? After all, you’ve experienced similar if not worse events like this and you’ve done well to conceal the pain and fear. You can do it. You can hide everything so that you aren’t a burden to anyone and they can still find some use in you.

You helped.

You were able to do something right.

That’s good enough, right? Who cares about the aftermath? Who cares about how you’re feeling as long as one of the gang’s most precious members is alive and well.

Who cares about you?

You let out a small noise and instantly your hand comes to lay against your mouth. You’re scared. Scared of crying because what if someone hears you and finds fault in that? If you cry, if someone catches you, you’ll no longer be able to help anyone and go back to being that useless child who knows nothing.

But you let the tears fall as your body trembles.

Silent tears.

So silent even you can’t hear yourself.

Until a sudden knock from the door makes you flinch vehemently.

Oh no.

Your hands instantly move to wipe your tears, grabbing a tissue or two, wiping your nose. You take a deep breath in, deeply, and exhale. It’s shaky, so shaky, just like your whole body.

But you know more than anyone that showing weakness in front of anyone will only backfire on you. You can’t trust anyone. You can’t rely on anyone.

Because if you do, they’ll leave eventually.

Just like Mister Butler.

You clear your throat softly so the person on the other side of the door doesn’t hear you and feel your body beginning to relax.

You’re used to this. Suddenly faking your fears and putting on a composed smile.

It wasn’t easy at first, none of it was, but you’ve gotten the hang of it. You can hide your fears well now, even to the eyes of the sharpest man.

“Who is it?” You ask, voice calm and composed as if that fearful woman just mere seconds ago had never existed in the first place.

The voice is hesitant but it speaks eventually. “Um...Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung?

You’re surprised but nevertheless go on to open the door for him. He looks hesitant just as his voice was, unable to meet your gaze when you stare at him.

“Um...what brings you here tonight?”

“I wanted to…” he scratches the back of his head in an awkward manner, “to check up on you.”

You blink.

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, perplexed by his behavior. “I’m alright. The mission was a success, as stated by Namjoon.”

“Well yes, but…”

“But?”

He pauses, eyes still unable to meet your eyes. “Are you sure...you’re really alright?”

You freeze in place when he looks you in the eyes with sincere concern. No one’s asked you that before, not since Mister Butler. Since then no one has ever cared enough to concern themselves with you. Even if they knew something was wrong, that you were hurt or afraid or upset or anything at all, no one cared.

No one.

Always blamed for everything that you did, never receiving any sort of praise, always shut away. You were an outcast even in your own home.

And now here is someone who’s asking you a genuine question with genuine concern.

Ah.

You want to cry.

“I..—”

“Please don’t lie,” he cuts you off. “I was there with you after all, so even if you lie, I would be able to tell.” Right. Taehyung was with you all the way. Heard everything, saw everything. “I know it wasn’t a pleasant experience and I know you’d like it if no one else knew of this. I’ll respect your decision on that, however I will not act as if what you went through all for the sake of a successful mission had never happened.”

“...”

“And you don’t have to hide. If you want to complain, if you want to lash out and punch someone or scream, do it. Be a child. Throw a tantrum. Do anything and everything. Just...don’t hide.”

Don’t hide.

Don’t hide.

Don’t hide.

He says as if it’s so easy. But it is easy, it’s so easy. Easy to cry, to let all the fears and pain consume you. Easy to break down, to let it all out.

But you’ve never done that before.

Cry in front of someone.

Let them see your pain and fears and vulnerability.

And you’re scared.

You’re scared yet such simple words are enough to let a teardrop fall and allow the rest to follow along.

“I was scared,” you whisper. So softly, so quietly, but this is the first time you’ve ever made a noise when crying. Your head hits Taehyung’s chest with a soft thud and you feel no strength left to back off. “I was so scared.”

You can feel your body trembling again as you hold your hands against your mouth. But even that isn’t enough to keep the noise silent. And at first you were scared crying before him, but when you feel two hands wrapping themselves around you, tears fall even harder.

You cry.

And cry.

For the first time since Mister Butler.

And all Taehyung does is listen.

Just as the rest of them hidden in the dark, unable to reveal themselves as their hearts hurt hearing the soft cries leaving the lips of the wife of Bangtan.

.

.

.

“Show me the video.”

Taehyung’s surprised when Namjoon walks in with purposeful strides made his way. His brows furrow with confusion. “Why?”

“I forced her to make the decision, so let me see what that scum did to her.”

Sometimes Namjoon can get quite level-headed; he won't listen to anyone else and make rash decisions on his own. But somehow things always seem to head in the right direction.

Except maybe this one.

The mission was a success, sure, but at the price of what his wife went through all for the sake of good results.

Taehyung lets out a sigh and turns to his computer to pull up the clips. “He didn’t...assaulted her in any way but, sometimes simply being a creep itself speaks enough volume.”

Namjoon doesn’t seem to be listening, his focus solely on the video pulled up before him.

.

.

.

“Hey...Wake up. Y/N.”

A quiet call of your name, you slowly stir awake from your little nap. Fists reaching up to rub at your eyes, you peek them open to find Namjoon crouched before you. “...Namjoon?” You yawn before looking around and realizing you were sitting against the wall of your bedroom, right in between two windows that were slightly opened.

It’s gotten chilly.

“What are you doing sleeping on the floor?” He sighs almost exasperatedly. “I provided you a bed so it will do you well to use it.”

“Ah.” You feel embarrassed having him catch you in this moment. “I promise I do use the bed. I just fell asleep here for a moment.”

“Hm.” He hums shortly. Always a blunt man of a few words. “Can you stand?”

“I...y-yeah—”

“No, nevermind. I’ll carry you.”

You blink, surprised and totally taken off guard. “W-what?”

Namjoon goes on to reach out for you, only to freeze when his hand is about to touch you. He looks up, staring straight at you. “May I?”

It’s strange to hear him ask for permission and you wonder why he’s doing such a thing. Still, with slightly flushed cheeks upon his gentleman manner, you give him a small nod.

And so he goes on to slide an arm under your knees while the other one goes on to support your back. It takes no effort for him to lift you up and neither does it take him a long time to carry you over to your bed. Perhaps it’s due to his long legs and bulky muscles.

He settles you down gently before going on to lay the covers over you.

“Next time fall asleep on your bed. Do not get into the habit of falling asleep anywhere else. You might get a cramp and hurt yourself.”

His words are strange and you’re unsure of what sort of emotions the man before you is having. His expression is as blank and blunt as it always was.

So you give him an affirmative nod of obedience. “Mmn.”

You’re still drowsy.

“Sleep well,” he commands.

“Mmn.”

Normally having someone staring right at you would cause you to have too much anxiety to fall asleep but you’re tired. So tired after what happened that night. And besides, crying definitely doesn’t help either.

You slowly close your eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“I’m sorry.”

You hear those words clearly. They’re soft, quiet, a whisper, but you hear it and your eyes are quick to open.

“...What?”

You almost thought you heard wrong or he hadn’t meant it but when you meet Namjoon’s gaze, he shows you that he has no intention of taking those words back, nor was it in the heat of the moment.

He means it.

“I will make sure you never have to go through something like that ever again.”

He heard? How? Perhaps Taehyung told him? Or did he seek out the answer himself after you asked him to never put you in that sort of mission ever again?

“I…” Either way, you’re flustered to hear an apology made to you for the first time. “It..I-It wasn’t that bad, I was just overreacting. He didn’t even—”

“No.” It’s firm, so firm it shuts you up and makes you feel as if you’re a fool for thinking anything less about the event that was held. “He made you uncomfortable and that is unacceptable. It doesn’t matter whether it was the slightest little touch or not, I was in no position to force you to hold the mission out for as long as you did.”

“I...You didn’t force me.”

“I did.” He says. “I made you feel as if you had no choice to refuse, as if you were nothing but a pawn to me.”

“But,” your brows furrow slightly with confusion, “I am a pawn.”

“No.” His expression is serious, the most serious you have ever seen him, and for a split second, you think your heart skipped a beat. “You are Y/N. You are not a pawn. You deserve to live just as much as the rest of us. So if I ever ask you to do a mission and you wish to refuse, do not ever hesitate to do so. I will not be offended nor will I be upset. You’re my wife, after all, and relationships go both ways. You deserve to say no. You do not deserve to simply follow everything that I do or say. And I will never force you to do that ever again. Do you understand?”

A man of a few words.

Quiet.

Blunt.

Intimidating.

Yet his words comfort you in ways you have never felt before. This is a man who is in a position of power. A man who holds authority, who rules and leads an entire empire. Dynasty. And here he is telling you that you have every right to refuse him, vowing to you to never force you to do anything against your will, and giving you every right to do all that you want.

A man with whom many fears and would never dare cross paths with.

Giving you all the rights you should have possessed from the very beginning as the daughter of the Reaper.

But the Reaper was never kind. He was never generous nor had he ever found any worth in his daughter. He hated you, still does with all of his dead heart. You were always a bother and no one respected you. Not his servants. Not him.

And now here you are, getting the respect from a man much more powerful than your father can ever be.

Bangtan’s King.

“...I understand.”

You haven’t fully grasped it just yet but you want to trust this man.

“Good.”

.

.

.

“There was something I forgot to tell you last night.”

You pause in your steps upon Yoongi’s words and turn around to give him your undivided attention. Something he forgot to tell you? What was it? Did you mess up in any way? Did he forget to give you the full information about the mission? But it’s over now so it wouldn’t be about that.

Perhaps he wants to give you some reports on how you did so that you can reflect on yourself.

“Um...what is it?” You await his reply with a heavy gulp.

Yet Yoongi gives you an easy smile, small but gentle and so, so soft. “You looked beautiful last night.” Your eyes widen. “No,” he then says, “beautiful is an understatement. You were...ethereal. Unreal.” He chuckles to himself almost as if it was silly saying all of this now. “Either way, I’m glad I was chosen to accompany you last night.”

You’re at a loss for words and are unsure of what sort of emotions you have that are bubbling up in your stomach.

It’s a strange feeling but it isn’t unwelcomed.

When you look at Yoongi now, he looks unreal watching you with a gentle gaze and you know you can’t hold onto that for much longer. So with flushed cheeks, you look down at the floor because looking at him now is giving you strange feelings.

“...Thank you.”

.

.

.

“What is it?”

Still in a daze and unable to truly grasp everything that is happening to you, your brows furrow slightly. “It’s a little strange.”

“What is?” Hoseok asks.

“Well…” You purse your lips. “It seems...everyone is paying more attention to me,” you say, feeling a bit odd about the whole situation. Taehyung was kind enough to check up on you the night before, listened to you cry without a hint of judgment. Namjoon showed some bit of kindness as well, giving you the respect you’ve always wanted from a man of high position. And now it seems your reputation among the Bangtan mobsters has only risen after succeeding your first mission.

“Do you feel uncomfortable in any way?” There is a true concern in his eyes when he asks you that and you quickly put both hands up to wave it from side to side.

“No, no. I-I’m flattered but…” Do you really deserve all of this? “It was just one mission. It’s not that big of a deal.”

He’s quiet for a moment, something entirely odd on Hoseok’s end, but you wait anxiously for what he has to say. Strangely, rather than saying anything first, Hoseok instead walks up to you and gives you a small pat on the head with the brightest beam.

“Of course it’s a big deal. You went up against a rival boss one-on-one without any help. Trust me,” his eyes are kind, beautiful, pretty, “you deserve all this recognition.”

Your stomach flutters and your heart skips a beat.

.

.

.

“Can’t sleep?”

You almost want to unconsciously lie your way out as to not bother him but the way Jimin watches you with curiosity rather than any sort of malice, you find yourself nodding his way. That’s all you give him, yet he takes no offense to it nor does he press you any further.

“Then, want to sneak out?” He instead asks.

Your eyes widen at the bold question. “What, I..-I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Jimin, I’m,” you give him a dumbfounded look, “did you forget who I am?”

“Oh come on, being a woman of your position and knowing you’re always guarded at any point, don’t tell me you haven’t tried to sneak out before?” You shake your head. “Ooh, what a good girl you are.” You don’t know why but him calling you that makes your stomach churn in ways it’s never done before. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Why…” you narrow your gaze his way, “why’re you trying to corrupt me?”

“Me? Corrupt you?” Jimin laughs. “You’re so cute.” Cute. He called you cute. “You won’t get in trouble. If anyone, I’ll be the first to get scolded and perhaps have to take some punishment.”

“All the more reason why I can’t sneak out. I’d rather get in trouble than rat you out.”

“You won’t rat me out, I’ll take full responsibility.”

“That’s worse,” you say. “And besides, you can’t be too sure I won’t get in trouble either. Namjoon will be upset and angry at me if he ever finds out.”

“Oh please,” he laughs again and you think you like his laugh. It’s...pretty. Just like him. “If Namjoon ever finds out, he’ll only go after me. I promise.”

Doubtful of that, you shake your head. “I can’t believe in that promise.”

“Huh. You really don’t trust him, do you?”

“Our relationship was arranged, Namjoon wouldn’t let me off if I were to ever disobey him.”

“So submissive.” He sighs and you shrink a little at the word, worried it meant it as an insult. That’s right, you’ve always been submissive. Towards your father, his people, and almost everyone you’ve met. Mister Butler was the only one to have ever served you well as a respected lady. So coming here and realizing how different this world is from your father's, everything is still a little bit strange and you can’t seem to break out of your habit.

“Though I guess being a good girl is one of your charms.”

You look up upon those words, a little taken back, while Jimin grins carefreely as if none of the words he had said were that significant.

But they are to you.

They’re nice words and for that his words are special. Just as what Yoongi said, just as when Namjoon gave you respect, or when Taehyung would simply just listen to you without any hint of disgust. It’s in the way Seokjin always treats you with kindness, in Hoseok’s playful and sweet attitude, and Jungkook. Although he’s quiet most of the time, you know he isn’t a bad person.

You’ve seen bad people all throughout your life, you grew up around them, and Jungkook does not fit into their category.

None of them does. Not even their lower subordinates.

“Come on.” Jimin holds out a hand your way, his eyes twinkling under the dim light of the corridor right outside your bedroom door. “I promise to make sure you have some fun and never regret this, even if we do end up getting in trouble.”

You’re anxious, worried about the aftermath, but it’s true you’ve never left a building unless it was absolutely necessary. Yet those moments only come once in a while. You’ve never tried to sneak out, never went against anyone’s orders.

And here is Jimin, offering you a decision you never thought to ever do in your entire life.

He smiles freely, a flash of mischief sparkles in his eyes, and you yearn for the kind of freedom he has.

So you find yourself slowly but surely placing your hand right into his palm. “...Okay.”

He grins. “Then let’s—”

“A-hem.”

The two of you instantly freeze at the new voice and when you fearfully look over, you find Jungkook standing tall with an unamused expression resting on his face.

“Uh…” Jimin chuckles awkwardly as he greets his lover. “Hey, Jungkook. What’re you doing here?”

He takes one simple look at your combined hands and you’re quick to release Jimin, who is a little shocked when he looks your way but returns to his cool facade a second later. “You do understand that it’s against the rules for the lady of the house to leave without Namjoon’s permission, don’t you? Do not try to corrupt the lady, hyung.”

“U-um!” You quickly intervene before he could put all the blames on Jimin. “It isn’t Jimin’s fault so please don’t blame him. He just, found me a little lonely and suggested we go out so he could show me some bit of fun. I promise he had no ill intentions.”

The maknae turns your way and under his tall figure and heavy gaze, you find yourself too scared to meet his eyes. “So you agree to go with him?”

“...Yes.” You nod. “I wanted...to make some memories.”

They both blink at your response but it doesn’t look like you’re lying in any way.

Still, Jungkook remains adamant. “You will indeed make some memories when Namjoon finds out.”

You pout. “W-well...you’re right about that but I...I just thought maybe...I wouldn’t regret it either way because it’ll take my mind off of...things.”

Things.

Jungkook wants to remain stern but hearing that after seeing you cry before Taehyung the way you did that night, how can he? Perhaps this was Jimin’s way of apologizing without revealing the truth of what the rest of the six had seen that night. After all, he was personally involved in the mission himself.

One look at his hyung’s way and he gets his answer.

He sighs. “Then I suppose I will go along.”

You quickly look up and both you and Jimin give him equally shocked expressions.

How cute.

“You...will?” Jimin asks, surprised.

“Two guards are better than one. If Namjoon finds out, he’d rather that than just you protecting her.”

Jungkook is indeed no bad guy.

.

.

.

“Whoa, this-” You gasp aloud as you stare at the scene before you; a marketplace filled with pretty lights and a very lively crowd. “I’ve never been to a street market before.”

“Come on,” Jimin quickly says and takes your hand to begin dragging you right into the crowd. A small gasp leaves your lips once more as you follow along, taking a quick peek over your shoulder to find the stern Jungkook following along quietly from behind.

“Where are we going?” You ask, curious as your eyes fall all over.

“You’ve never done anything like this before, right? Go ahead and choose whatever you’d like to do.”

Your eyes wander around, twinkling with the curiosity of a kid who’s realizing what fun and freedom means to them for the first time. “Are you sure we can go anywhere?” You ask as you turn to the two of them who stands tall.

Jimin gives you a nod.

You can’t help but let your lips form into an exciting beam. “Then let’s—”

Just as you’re about to run off somewhere, however, you almost bump into a group of people if it weren’t for Jungkook to react quickly and hold you back with his strong arms.

“Careful, it’s crowded,” he tells you, voice close and low but so clear and loud even amongst the lively crowd.

“S-sorry,” you say, and after he checks to make sure you’re alright, Jungkook releases you. “Thank you.”

“Mmn.”

Jimin gives a small smirk both your ways before grabbing your attention. “Come on Y/N, where do you want to go?”

“Ah.” Your eyes light up again. “I want to try cotton candy. May I?”

What a cute little thing you are, so excited to try a simple thing. So how can they ever deny you that? Jimin takes your hand again, a little gentler, and leads you to the cotton candy stall.

Your eyes are as bright as the golden lights surrounding the marketplace, perhaps more, and watching you as you taste the thing for the first time, when you run around to try more things, and drag them along wherever you want, it’s a feeling they’re familiar with.

Filled with so much warmth despite the cold, night breeze.

Speaking of, “Achoo!”

Such a cute sneeze, but it isn’t enough to distract Jungkook away from quickly taking his jacket off and draping it around your shoulder. “Should we head back now? Or would you like to explore some more?”

Looking back at him, you realize how generous his heart is. He understands that getting caught by Namjoon is a big deal, after all, the man is not only his lover but his boss, but he also understands that this is your first time sneaking out and actually getting the freedom you’ve always wanted to touch.

You like having fun with the two of them and as much as you’d like to stay like this forever, without having to worry about anything related to the mafia, you know you can’t remain selfish when there are two people who are willing to care for you.

“We should head back,” you say gently as the golden lights of the street illuminate the beauty of your soft face. “Sometimes Namjoon comes into my room to check up on me. We should head back now in case he does his routine tonight.”

“Alright,” Jimin says with a light pat to your head. You look up to find a soft smile on his face. “Did you have fun?”

They look so good, so handsome you can hardly believe it. Under the light of the stars and the golden rays of the street lamps, you cough slightly, placing your hand over half your face to hide the blush that’s begun to creep along. “Mmn,” you nod, flustered by the two of them, “I had fun. Thank you.”

“We can do this anytime again.”

“No, no,” you quickly shake your head. “It’s best to leave it to just tonight. If we do it often, Namjoon will most definitely get suspicious and find out.”

Jimin lets out a sigh. “It’s good to rebel once in a while.”

“You would know,” Jungkook comments, making the older one frown.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He pauses, then repeats, “You would know.”

You snicker while Jimin rages.

.

.

.

“You snuck out.”

You freeze in place at the familiar voice and stay there standing still, unsure of what to do before you hear another voice.

“You snuck out?” Seokjin asks, a bit in disbelief. “You? Y/N?”

“With Jimin and Jungkook,” says Namjoon.

Crap, you got found out. But it’s literally the very next day, how did Namjoon find out so fast? There’s no way Jimin and Jungkook revealed anything. Perhaps he came to check up on you last night while you were off on your little market stroll with the two boys?

Oh gosh.

“Jimin and Jungkook, huh?” Seokjin says in contemplation. “Now Jimin I can believe. He grew up with Hoseok so the clown has influenced much of his personality but Jungkook? That obedient boy?”

You quickly turn around to face the two of them and instantly bow Namjoon’s way. “P-please don’t punish Jimin or Jungkook. I promise it was all my fault.”

“Doubt it,” Namjoon says and when you look up, both of them have an expression that would be least likely to believe your words.

You try to switch up your words. “W-well, they wouldn’t have taken me out if I...if I hadn’t been so easy to be swayed.”

“So you were swayed.”

“No! I mean…” What are you supposed to say in this scenario? “W-what I mean is...—”

“No one said it was a bad thing.” You hear Seokjin laughing and once again, looking up at the two of them, there are no signs of anger. Seokjin looks rather amused while Namjoon is as expressionless as ever but he doesn’t look upset.

At least you don’t believe so.

“Um…”

Namjoon sighs. “You are my wife, Y/N, not my prisoner. If you wish to go out, you have every right to do so. However, you must make sure that you have at least two guards with you at all times. You are my wife, after all, even if no one knows of your identity.”

“I…” You stare at him, in shock. “I’m allowed to go out?”

“As long as you let me know beforehand.”

You take a glance at Seokjin, who gives you an easygoing smile, before returning your attention back to Namjoon. “You...you must keep your word. We have Seokjin here as witness.”

He sighs again. “Do I ever say anything I do not mean?”

“...I suppose not.”

“Then it will do you well to believe in your husband once in a while.”

“...Yes,” you say. “Thank you.”

When the two of them leave for their work, you’re left standing there in the middle of the hall, thinking of how generous the world has become ever since you walked in here.

No longer do you have to fear the darkness. They may be cruel, ruthless at times to their enemies, strict, cold, aloof, and intimidating, but...they’re kind. They have hearts, emotions, feelings. They can hate, get upset, flirt, be playful, smile, laugh, and...they can love.

They know how to love.

Unlike your father.

And for the first time in your life, you think you can finally call a place your home, your safety, your sanctuary. You think you can feel confident enough to feel as if you belong.

.

.

.

Happiness is something you never thought you’d ever be able to receive, not since your last hope broke into pieces at the sight of the only man on your side who had passed away. But bit by bit, you think it’s slowly beginning to piece back together and it’s all because of the seven men in your life.

Seven kind men whom you’re beginning to trust with your life.

But sometimes, you believe the world doesn’t like you living happily and wishes to tear you apart.

At a time when you’re taking a stroll with three bodyguards walking along behind you, a murder scene happens right before your eyes.

Three shots taken at your bodyguards, taking them down, and before one can hit you, one of them hurries on his feet to throw his body right at you, taking the shot.

Another shot.

Another.

And the light in the eyes of the man above you is gone. Taken right out with nothing but a blank stare looking straight at you.

You freeze in place and the memories of your lost butler comes into mind and it is the only thing you see when you stare at the man who protected you with his life. An insignificant woman who was only meant to be a pawn in the games.

You can feel your body trembling unconsciously but at the same time you don’t think you’re moving at all. You feel nothing yet you feel everything. The world clouds over, darkness consuming everything before your eyes except those dark, dark pupils that stare right into your eyes without blinking one bit.

You feel blood, you see blood, and pain shoots at your right shoulder from the impact of being forced down onto the ground, but that sort of pain can never compare to what your heart is going through. It beats hard, fast yet slow, loudly, so loudly against your chest, your ears.

You can’t hear anything but that.

Even after someone throws the bodyguard off you, the weight still remains heavy on your chest and you aren’t sure what the man is saying as he shouts at you.

“Ma’am…!” You can make out as he calls for you frantically.

Ah.

You’re safe, it’s okay, this is another bodyguard.

He survived and two are...two are…

“Ma’am!” He shakes you to turn your attention away from the bodies. “We have to run.” He’s hurt, slightly wincing at the shot that was taken on his arm yet still managed to slow the enemy down and had possibly shot at a few of them as well. “We aren’t safe here.”

Right.

Right.

You want to nod, to say something, to get up, but your body doesn’t listen to a thing you’re saying. It remains heavy and frozen in time, unable to move, and fear consumes you wholeheartedly and the images of Mister Butler haunts your mind. All over again father’s words return to your head, whispering creepily in and out of your ear repeatedly about everything being your fault.

You killed him, just as you killed the two bodyguards who lay motionless on the sidewalk.

Ah, what to do. What to do.

Your chest tightens, your heartbeat races even faster, and you aren’t sure if you know how to breathe anymore.

It hurts. It hurts.

“Hey. Hey..!”

You can’t breathe. You don’t, you don’t know how.

[quindolyn]

for dialogues/baby blurbs: cuddling with jamie after you've both had a long day

- 🌧

Baby hi! I've missed you so much.

I've been writing a lot of sub!jamesie so I'll do a little bit of James comforting you in this one

tw: insecure reader

"Hey angel, you okay?" The worry in James' voice was evident as he took in your appearance. You looked beat, hair tied into a messy knot at the nape of your neck, day old mascara smudged under your eyes and the fabric of your school issued blouse wrinkled and untucked from your plaid skirt.

"Hard day," You mumbled, slumping against the door you closed behind you to slip off your Mary Janes and drop your ridiculously heavy book bag.

"Come here baby," James tucked away the Quidditch strategy book he'd been studying, inviting you into his open arms.

"Hmph," You flopped onto the bed next to him, crawling into the nook of his arm as you nuzzled your face against his neck. Breathing in you were overcome by his smell, the musky cologne Remus had bought him last year so he'd stop using that terrible muggle stuff, the freshly cut grass of the quidditch pitch, and was that... chocolate? He must've broken into Remus' stash.

"I had a rough day too, love," His calloused fingers gently brushed along your jaw, gazing down at you with nothing but admiration in his eyes.

"Yeah?" You pulled away just enough to look at him, worry swimming in your irises as you studied the gentle lines of his face, "You wanna talk about it?"

"Wasn't anything too bad, just tiring," His hand moved to the back of your head, tucking you under his chin, "What about you baby? You need to talk about it?"

"I just-" You huffed as you felt tears start to pool in your eyes, so angry at yourself for not being able to hold the tears back as they silently streamed down your face.

James clutched you closer to himself, wanting nothing more than to make your pain go away but knowing that it wasn't up to him.

"I try my best Jamesie I really do but it's just not good enough," You sniffled, "Slughorn-"

"What did that son of a bitch do?" Your boyfriend clutched you even harder to his chest, if that was possible.

"I worked so hard on my Potions essay and he called me up to the front at the end of class and-" You started hyperventilating, barely audible through your growing sobs.

James' thumbs wiped under your eyes as he kissed along your hairline.

"Breathe with me baby, can you do that?"

You nodded frantically against his chest.

Once he helped you get your breathing under control, his hand rubbing circles on your back as he guided your breaths, the two of you breathing in sync you managed to squeak out a small thank you.

"Thank you for what baby?"

"Helpin' me."

With just his index finger he guided your visage up towards him allowing him to kiss along your nose and cheeks.

"That tickles," You giggled as the beginnings of scruff etched along his jawline rubbed against your face.

"You don't have to thank me angel," He bumped his nose against yours, a small content smile adorning his lips.

He was so beautiful from the angle that you were sure he was the angel he claimed you to be.

"Whatcha lookin' at baby?" He asked when your eyes glazed over.

"You, my pretty boy."

"Oh, you think I'm pretty?" He teased you, cheeky smile on his lips.

"Shut up," You giggled, "You know you're pretty."

"Doesn't hurt to hear it though, boosts my ego."

A voice came from the doorway, "Like you need that."

"Oi!" James glared at his leather clad friend, leaning against the door frame, "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough to hear all the ooey goey 'I just love you Jamesie,'" He raised his voice an octave in a poor attempt to mimic you, "'I love you more angel.'" His voice dropped below his normal voice to mock his friend.

"Shut up," You glared.

"You shouldn't be mean to me like that love," He smirked cockily as he traipsed towards the bed, stopping when he made it to the foot, arms splayed allowing him to lean against the bed.

"Now scooch over, m'coming in."

You didn't have time to react before he was flinging his significantly larger form on top you so he could wedge his way between you and his your boyfriend.

"Now Jamesie," His voice was cloying as he turned so that he and James were nose to nose, similar to how the two of you had been just moments ago, "Are you going to kiss my nose?"

You weren't able to scold him because before the words came out James was pressing kisses all over Sirius' face, very much in the same way he had to you.

When he pulled back Sirius' face was revealed to be a blushing mess.

"Is that what you wanted Pads?"

taglist: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @Greenlyblue @emmaev @gubleryum @msmb @marauderswhore07 @st0nesnglitter  @miraclesoflove @shadesofvelma @drachoesimp @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore @swearingsolemnly @Teenwolfbitches28 @lilypad-55449 @jamespotterslover @lilytheally @mo-jean @jeannelupinblack @wh0reforthemarauders @myalupinblack @ashesandstars @dissociateddaisy @siriusmydeer @remugoodgirl @itzstacie @planet-wolfstar @steveharringtonswhore @saintlike78 @thatdummymarie @cedricisnotdead @pretty-pop-princess-hs @saggyb1lls @trashyvicks @randomthelily @sprucewoodlover @slut4drvc0 @1-800-amortentia @pagesbetweensheets @locnylupin @blowing-mikey @tinyglowsticks  @kaqua @brattypeony @lunaiswifey @pottahishotasf @samaraaaaa @alinamartiez @usfragmentedones @cheesy-peasy-lemon-squeezy @padf00ts-l0ver @ilovejamespotter @dilfl0ver10 @wolfstarkiss

[cheegu3]

can i request treasure yandere reaction to their naive slo coming home getting beaten by bullies with a little dialogue

thank you...���😇😇

tw / trigger warning: yandere themes, abusive relationship, violence, bullying, swearing, dark themes, murder, dark!!

a/n: I finally finished this! I’m sorry for the long wait :(

~ Yandere treasure - reaction to you coming home after getting beaten by bullies ~

Hyunsuk

He was disappointed in you but also a bit worried, though he didn’t show it outwardly. He feels that you should’ve known better and that you should stand up for yourself.

Even if you didn’t tell Hyunsuk about your bullies or that you were even getting bullied, he’d find out sooner or later. It was pretty obvious. Your demeanour and attitude towards him changed. 

Previously, you were very happy to leave his house to go to school but when you begged to stay home, he knew something was up. At first he only had suspicions, but mostly thought you were just trying to trick him - when he then saw you like that coming home, it only confirmed everything.

‘‘ Who did this to you? ‘‘ you jumped, not having noticed your boyfriend entering the hall, he wasn’t supposed to know.

You looked away, feeling embarrassed at how vulnerable and exposed you felt right now.

‘‘ Tell me ‘‘ he stepped closer, voice dropping several octaves and you didn’t dare meet his burning gaze.

‘‘ My bullies... ‘‘ you answered in a small voice, almost whimpering.

‘‘ Tell me their fucking names right now ‘‘

Jihoon

How dare anyone touch what was his? He’d make them pay and it would be the worst of his torturing sessions up to date. Any feelings that he viewed as being vulnerable to you, weren’t shown. So from your point of view, he was just angry because you were his possession, that was all. If he felt sad, or disappointed in himself for not protecting you well enough - you would never know. He was determined to keep up a strong and confident front to you.

But when he comes home, he’ll pull you into his embrace, holding you for long without saying anything.

‘‘ W-what did you do to them? ‘‘ you immediately shot up from the sofa when you hear the door slam and ran to the door.

He didn’t say anything, not even looking at you as he passed to go into the kitchen. He picked up a water bottle and chugged it while still ignoring you, then out of nowhere when you’d lost hope of him speaking to you at all during the day - he came up from behind and gentle hands wrapped around your waist.

‘‘ Can we stay like this for a little bit? ‘‘ 

Yoshi

He was aware of it already and didn’t care too much. He’d get jealous from time to time that they got your attention even for a little bit but other than that, he was actually thankful for them - they made you weak, every time they broke you down, you always came crying to him as if he didn’t know. If he was feeling particularly angry at you he might encourage them to attack you, watching from afar as they pick you apart with a smirk on his face.

If he could use something to his advantage, he would. So basically, don’t expect him to feel sorry for you. He might feel jealous, why are they on your mind so much? But that’s not because you’re getting hurt, that’s because of his raging and destructive jealousy. 

‘‘ You need to hurt them okay, worse than you usually do ‘‘ 

Despite his order, the group of boys only looked back in confusion at him.

‘‘ If you don’t hurt them, I will kill your families ‘‘ he laughed.

They immediately agreed, even though they didn’t really understand - he was your boyfriend so wouldn’t he want what’s best for you?

Yoshi’s signature smirk slowly started forming on his face as he could hear your distant voice, unable to keep the excitement at what was about to come, under control.

Junkyu

You were his soft spot. He only hurt you when he really had to, to teach you and when it was other people doing it to you, it broke him. The way he saw your face as you’d come home from a bad day would ruin his entire day. Any good news or mood he had been in were pushed back - it was all about you now and making you feel okay and loved again. 

Similar to Hyunsuk he’d want to find your bullies as soon as possible to get revenge and to make them leave you alone forever. Afterwards he’d hold you in his arms and slowly rock you to sleep, watching with loving eyes as you drifted away.

‘‘ Hey, babe? ‘‘ your boyfriend called out to you.

You followed the direction of the voice and ended up in the hallway where you saw him putting on shoes. Your eyebrows rose questioningly.

‘‘ Where are you going? ‘‘

He halted his movements when he heard your voice so close, what was he supposed to say really? You were an angel, if he told the truth you’d stop him from going.

As casually as he could, he stood up and smiled at you.

‘‘ Just going to get ice cream, for our movie, wait here ‘‘

Mashiho

Really it was your fault. You were too innocent and naive. You got yourself into this situation, no one else - and if he had to punish you to toughen you up, he’d be happy to do it. He didn’t want you to be weak and so when he’d see you like that, coming home beaten and crying, he would feel disgusted and ashamed. Did you really think that you could act like that when you dated Mashiho? Truly embarrassed him is what you did, and he felt no pity or sympathy at all.

And from then on his training would begin. He’d be cruel, almost treating you like you knew nothing, sometimes even keeping you on a leash and ordering you around calling you ‘’ pet ‘’. Worst of all was that you knew you couldn’t fight back, there was nothing you could do but take it. 

‘‘ Darling? ‘‘ his singsongy voice called out into the darkness, immediately sending chills down your spine.

You were hiding from him because when he had become too unbearable during his training session, you just couldn’t take it anymore - but now you were starting to regret it, when he found you, you were sure you’d get ten times worse.

Jaehyuk

He was sad and angry at them but also saw this as an opportunity to finally make him a hero in your eyes. He planned out how he’d go about confronting them, which would be that he came with you one day to school ‘’ randomly ‘’ and then without violence he’d escalate the situation. What you didn’t know was that when you saw them talking, your boyfriend leaned in to the bullies and whispered,

‘‘ If any of you touch my s/o again, I’ll kill all of you ‘‘

That had them bowing and apologising immediately and after that they left you alone.

‘‘ Y/n? ready to go? ‘‘ Jaehyuk extended his smile at you and you took it while smiling and looking down at your bullies. 

You were confused about the whole ordeal but his plan did work, he was the reason you were no longer getting bullied so you couldn’t help but feel thankful towards him. 

Asahi

He also knew about it but wouldn’t pay you any extra attention. He found it annoying when you cried or whined about it and often it would lead to you getting punished. To him, it was more of an inconvenience since it lead to you annoying him but he did like punishing you so it was fine anyway. 

If you tried to come up to him and beg for acknowledgement, love, attention or care he’d push you away to deal with it on your own. He didn’t have time for crybabies and it looked like you were just trying to act up. 

‘‘ Please, say...something ‘‘

You fell to your knees and started clinging onto your boyfriend’s legs, crying pathetically. It had been hours, no matter how much you cried or tried to get him to care, he was just as cold.

He merely looked down at you, a slight smirk on his face.

‘‘ For the last time y/n ‘‘ he crouched down intimidatingly and stared right at you.

‘‘ I don’t fucking care, okay? ‘‘

Yedam

Sounds like there’s no better opportunity for one of his sadistic games. He’d grin as soon as you got home with tears streaming down your face while telling him what had happened. 

So he’d then put a twist on it, he wouldn’t hurt those people - you would, and he’d force you to. If you refused, he’d kill them and then someone you loved dearly. He would enjoy it so much, just standing there watching you break down bit by bit as he forced you to commit those acts. 

If he was feeling especially sadistic, depending on what day it was - he’d kill them and make you watch after you were done, not caring about the little promise he had made earlier that they’d ‘’ survive ‘’.

‘‘ You monster! You promised! ‘‘ you screamed with everything you got.

He didn’t care at all, occasionally glancing back at the spot he had tied you up to, to then turn around again and continue his assault.

‘‘ Please...stop ‘‘ you had grown tired of your pleading and acceptance was starting to settle in.

You let a tear fall as you turned your head, trying to drown out the sounds and sight of their screams. 

Doyoung

He was a mixture of the other members most likely like Hyunsuk and Jihoon. He was angry at your bullies for hurting you and your feelings but there was also a hint of possessiveness there. It overpowered his sympathy for you and instead made him jealous and wanting to get revenge.

Afterwards he’ll mark you to show you that you’re his, maybe more for his insecure self than you though.

He had done this before. You knew how jealous and possessive he could get, often beating up people who merely look your way. It was his way of getting rid of those insecurities he felt and to scare you into submission, showing you that he was in control.

Your boyfriend kept kissing your neck aggressively despite you trying to wriggle out from under him. The vague smell of blood made you want to throw up and you wanted nothing but to get away from him.

‘‘ Stop, please ‘‘ you tried

your pleas were only answered with a hum.

‘‘ Say your mine y/n ‘‘ he breathed against your skin.

‘‘ W-what? ‘‘

He stopped his moving and sat up straight, looking dead in the eyes, he was serious and it was starting to scare you, God knows what he’d do if you didn’t obey.

Haruto

He’d completely isolate you from the outside world. Being both angry and scared - he’d be terrified of ever letting you leave his house again. Since he could be overprotective at times, he felt that he didn’t have a choice. 

Also you were blamed. Why were you so naive, innocent and so nice? If you could just stand up for yourself you wouldn’t be in this situation at all. 

Will gaslight you so much that in the end you truly believe it was your fault and that you had ruined your whole life. 

You believed that, that one mistake of crying in front of your boyfriend and being forced to open up about the bullies was the reason you couldn’t now go out and see your friends, or sit outside in the garden - not the fact that your boyfriend was an abusive psycho.

‘‘ You know this is for the best ‘‘ he said, a comforting hand coming up to give your back strokes.

You nodded but couldn’t keep your eyes away from the butterflies flying around in the garden.

‘‘ If only I wasn’t such a bad girlfriend ‘‘ tears welled up in your eyes again and Haruto quickly embraced you.

‘‘ It’s okay, don’t worry ‘‘ he smirked behind your back while playing innocently with your hair.

He couldn’t be prouder of how he succeeded with his plan.

Jeongwoo

He was so upset and bothered by it that he would kill all of them without a doubt. First he became close to them, to then fuck them over completely aka making them end up in an ‘’ accident ‘’. 

He was no stranger to having to play an actor around people to get what he wanted and commit the crimes he wanted to - he was too smart, and this was the perfect plan. If you thought that once he got to know them on a deep level that he’d pity them and even rethink his future actions - you’re wrong, he felt nothing for them. In fact, he thought people like them should die, to make the world a better place. There was no mercy as he pushed them into the river, one by one, he was actually wearing a sinister grin on his face while doing it.

Of course, you’d never find out about this though - he had to play actor around you as well so you never found out what a monster he truly was.

‘‘ Babe? ‘‘

Your boyfriend stopped in his tracks and his eyes searched until they found you.

‘‘ Where are you going this late? ‘‘

He had already rehearsed an answer in case you’d ask.

‘‘ Going to study with my friends in the library ‘‘

You glanced at the clock again and your brows furrowed.

‘‘ Finals ‘‘ he added and smiled innocently.

‘‘ Oh...right ‘‘

Junghwan

He was upset but he wouldn’t do anything to them. Instead of resorting to violence he’d comfort you. The whole thing made you fall for him even more because he’d become more caring, as he saw you like someone vulnerable due to your naive personality.

All he wanted was to protect you but he knew there was only so much he could do without completely banning you from the outside world and he wanted to see you happy, so he couldn’t do that. He would start to be gentle with you, less punishments, tons of deep talks, him cooking for you, random gifts etc.

It would probably feel a bit strange or even fabricated but any time he showed affection and you doubted his intentions you’d look into his eyes and see how loved you were.

‘‘ y/n! y/n! Where are you? ‘‘ Junghwan screamed.

He felt like he had gone insane, looking for you everywhere in the house. Worst case scenarios started playing over and over in his head and he couldn’t stop it.

‘‘ I’m here! ‘‘ you called out from the bathroom.

Quick footsteps and then the door flung open and you jumped in surprise.

‘‘ Fuck sorry ‘‘ he quickly backed out, his racing heart slowing down steadily when he knew you were okay.

[sukirichi]

— the other side

request:  BRUH YOUR SWIMSUIT SHOPPING WITH JJK IS GOD LEVEL 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 I think you wrote Gojo perfectly 🥺 Could I pretty please request FaceTime sex with Gojo 🤩 Like maybe Gojo’s away on a mission and he really misses reader and he’s needy so he calls her and has her put the phone down in front of her and tells her what to do 😳

warnings: nsfw, mutual masturbation, facetime sex, dirty talk (+unedited fic)

note: i actually wasn’t sure if i could write this well since i’m not the best at dialogue, but i tried my best and i hope you like it anon! thank you for the request! dinner has been served!

masterlist ! 

Ruined. He’s absolutely ruined you.

You pull your fingers out of your clenching hole, your cheeks sweaty as you pant against your pillow. Hole clenching around nothing at the sudden emptiness, your chest heaves up and down with the gnawing dissatisfaction that you could no longer cum yourself; could no longer feel pleased unless it’s Gojo doing it for you.

Before you know it, a single tear flows down until it collects besides your lips. Hands rubbing against your tired eyes, you sigh at the clock blaring 2:19 AM mockingly at you.

It’s two in the fucking morning – and you haven’t cum ever since Gojo left for work.

Your fingers just wasn’t enough; could never be enough compared to his magical tongue and long dick that absolutely drives you into with so much need, large hands grappling against your soft mounds for leverage while he pounds himself into you.

It’s not the same without him. It’s been four long days ever since Gojo left for work; four torturous days that you’ve done everything you could to get off, only to keep failing after hours of humping your pillow or doing all the work with the cute pink dildo you got just for days he wouldn’t be around. It never ends well. Your wrist would only cramp or your thighs would ache afterwards, but you never came.

Perhaps that’s one of the consequences of being greedy and wanting to keep Gojo Satoru all to yourself. In return, he’s also stolen you of the privilege of fucking yourself.

Arm sprawled over your face, your breathing begins to regulate. Your legs are still wide open, arousal leaking from your disappointed cunt. You were ready, so ready for Gojo to come home and just fuck you silly.

You hate yourself for being this way, hate that your lips are trembling because you miss him so much and you’re actually crying all because you feel so empty without him buried within you.

It’s stupid, so fucking stupid, but you can’t help it.

You turn around to your side and hug his pillow closer to your body, breathing in his scent. It helps to calm you down a bit and even reassures you you’re not really alone; he’d come back in a few days and you’ll have him all to yourself again.

It’s been a long day, and the days just keep stretching over with the fact you’ve pretty much masturbated everywhere but still never got to come. A wave of exhaustion washes over you, your eyelids growing heavy at the same time you wrap one leg around Gojo’s pillow. His musky scent still remains, almost mocking that he’s never really away from you, but the dull aching deep within your pussy says otherwise.

You’re so helpless without him.

Just as you’re about to gaze off into to dreamland, your phone blares from your bedside table. You don’t waste another second before scrambling off the bed to get it, nearly falling off if you hadn’t grasped on to the sheets hard enough.

Gojo’s contact name of baby with a heart emoji flashes on the screen. Out of reflex, your entire body responds. Palms sweaty, lips puckered, pussy fluttering and nipples peaking – it’s embarrassing how your body reacts to him strongly. If he was here and he saw the way you open yourself up to him, Gojo would laugh while knuckle deep in you, teasing that you’re so eager for him and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

You quickly swipe right to answer, the grin on your face large and beaming when his handsome face greets you. “Satoru,” you smile, leaning back on the pillows to make yourself comfortable. “I missed you.”

There’s no lie about that. He’s still so handsome with one arm propped underneath him, hair down in messy strands and his eyes free from the blindfold, allowing you to witness the magic that pooled within that beauty. Satoru is now wearing a plain white shirt in exchange of his usual dark uniform, his bicep flexing under his weight, but you’re more focused on how his eyes crinkle once he finally saw your pretty face.

You could tell he misses you just the same.

“Hey, baby,” he coos through the call, and his low, husky voice immediately sends chill down your spine. The cold air bites at your exposed cunt and you shudder; you already know you’re wet again. It’s still ‘yesterday’ where he’s at, meaning that he’d have to leave for work after three hours or so as the sun begins to rise, while you’d still be slumbering at peace.

Or at least, sleep as comfortably as you could with countless failed orgasms.

“I missed you too,” Satoru sighs. His eyes droop for a moment, and he sees the way you open your lips, ready to tell him to get some more rest instead of calling you. Satoru only presses a finger to his lips, eyes glinting playfully at your awaiting gaze. “I’m fine, baby, don’t worry about me. I just needed to hear your voice.”

Your heart skips a beat at that. You’ve always known that Satoru is flirty, and even though he isn’t exactly being too flirty right now, the mere thought of him wanting to hear your voice before he sleeps does wondrous leaps to your wavering heart.

“Me too,” you confess in a small voice, tugging up the sheets under the chin as you grow more and more shy with each passing second. “It hasn’t been the same without you, Toru. I can’t…I can’t be myself when you’re not here.”

Satoru, despite being an absolute dumb fuck all the time, isn’t stupid when it comes to that tone of your voice. He nods once and presses the phone closer to his face, voice low and serious. “What’s wrong, baby? Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Yes and no. You seriously debate whether it’s best to tell him that you can’t cum without him, simply because he’s always so much better and feels perfect compared to your nimble fingers that barely even stretch you. On the other side, you don’t want to keep him up too late, plus phone sex… well, you haven’t really done it before. Just imagining showing yourself bare to Satoru through the camera already makes your body feel warmer than it already it is. He’s seen you naked hundred of times before, but the idea that he could record it…

You swallow audibly and look away from him. Your cunt is already gushing as you imagine Satoru recording the way you lose yourself as he buries his cock into your hilt, but it’s a different thing if you could both masturbate to the thought of each other.

“Babe,” Satoru cuts off your train of thoughts, “You feel frustrated too, don’t you? I’ve never hated my fist as much as I do now.”

Your head snaps to his direction so fast Satoru laughs at your crazed reaction, and the sound only increases when you start babbling to him. “Y-you,” you shake your head in disbelief, “You too? You can’t cum too? I mean, I’ve done everything I could, I even got a dildo but it’s not enough, Toru, it’s never enough, I need you so bad.”

You don’t care that you’re whining at this point. Satoru doesn’t give a damn either because he’s already palming his erection through his sweatpants from the other side of the world, jaw clenching as he imagines you doing lewd things without him.

“Aw, my poor baby,” he teases you, making you pout and hide under the sheets with only your eyes peeking through. “It’s okay, I’ve got you now,” his voice drops an octave lower, eyes darkening as lust consumes both your body. “Just be a good girl and follow my instructions, okay? I’ll make you feel good. We’ll make each other feel good. It’ll feel like I never left, okay?”

“O-okay,” you nod shakily, still unsure of what to do. “Is there-?”

“Yeah,” Satoru grunts as he whips his cock free from his confines, hips jutting forward now that his hand is wrapped around it. He sighs at the relief of finally getting his chance to cum. He understands your situation; his cock won’t even come close to the warmth of your tight pussy clenching on him. “Show me yourself, pretty girl. Show me those pretty pink lips of yours,” Satoru places his phone somewhere on the table near his bed, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock slaps against his underbelly, the tip red and leaking.

You gasp at how lewd he looks. The sheets are absolutely crumpled beneath him, and you clench your thighs at the sight of Satoru wrapping his hands around his large, angry cock with his eyes staring straight directly at the camera.

“Come on, baby, don’t be shy,” he rasps, “I want to see you, want to hear you. You’ll let me hear those beautiful moans, won’t you?”

When his hups jut forward to meet the tight grip of his hands, something inside you snaps. Breath shaky and legs trembling, you throw your sheets off to the side and get your phone stand before setting it up at your bedside table, making sure to tilt the camera downwards before you lean back onto the bed. You’re already naked underneath Satoru’s large shirt, and it doesn’t take much as you spread your legs eagerly for him, using two lips to spread your lips open even without his command.

Satoru groans at your arousal leaking down the sheets and making a mess. He pumps himself harder, smirking at how your heavy breathing is all he could hear. “So fucking pretty,” he praises, “Now put two fingers in your pussy for me, baby girl. Stretch yourself open so I can see how much you miss my cock.”

Obedient as ever, you do as you’re told, letting out a shuddered moan when your two fingers go past your walls without resistance. You’re wet, so fucking wet for him, but you want him. “Satoru,” you whine, pushing your fingers deeper and deeper and pulling them out for friction. Your walls clench around your digits and you start imagining that it’s his long fingers buried into you this time; getting off to his image and relishing in how Satoru is moaning your name. “Miss you baby,” you cry out, hands trailing up to squeeze your nipples. “I want you so bad.”

“Me too, baby, me too,” the sound of Satoru’s slick running up and down his shaft, along with his low groans, are like music to your ears. Your moan grows louder when you open your eyes and see that his muscles are flexing as he fucks his hand eagerly, his gaze focused on the way you’re shuddering around your own digits. “Another one. Add another one.”

Shakily, you add another one, your head falling back at the welcomed intrusion. It’s still not enough, but it’ll do for now.

You just imagine that it’s his cock inside you instead, each vein prominent as the ridges of your wall hug him completely. Satoru replaces his hand with your pussy as well, that the fist running down his dick is you bouncing on his cock instead. He can already picture the way your breasts bounce in front of him and Satoru shudders, “Tits,” he growls, “I want to see your fucking tits. Want to feel them on my hands,” Satoru chuckles at how eagerly you lift your shirt up to show him the beaded nipples, teeth biting down on the material with your hands still knuckle-deep in your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re always so pretty, babe.”

“Miss you,” you keep crying out, words muffled through the shirt you’re biting. You pinch your nipple at the same time you rapidly finger yourself, your pussy squelching and the sounds pornographic as it echoes all the way to Satoru’s phone. You miss him so fucking much that it’s unreal. There’s no more self control when your back hits the bed, hips lifting off the bed and giving Satoru a clearer view of your juices dripping down your ass.

Satoru can’t resist the way his balls tighten, desperate to have you right next to him so he can fuck your brains out already. He wishes he could come home and be in your warmth, be in your embrace, but he’s still got curses to kill that fucking you would just have to wait much to both parties’ displeasure.

Sweat is beading down his forehead as he watches you thrash around your bed, his cock only growing harder and a low growl emanating from his throat when you keep moaning satoru, satoru, satoru, I love you so fucking much.

“I love you too,” he manages to say in shaky breaths. “You’re so perfect for me – fuck.”

You push yourself off the edge by pulling your lips aside and pinch at your clit. At that, your back arches off the bed, making your fingers dig deeper into you and for a split second, you manage to hit your g-spot. Satoru can tell you’re close by the way your legs spasm and he encourages you, spitting down his cock as he pumps his fist around his length almost angrily.

“That’s good, baby, keep going, keep going,” his teeth clenches when you nod, tears falling down your pretty cheeks. “Want to fuck you so good – I’d have you screaming around my neck while I take you from behind and shove your face down the pillow,” you moan in response, the sound high pitched and almost whiny. Satoru chuckles before he cuts himself off with a hiss, his balls tightening and his cock throbbing already. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want me to fuck your ass when I get home?”

“Yes, yes, please,” your belly tightens at the thought of Satoru stretching your tight hole, even better if he pulls at your hair while his hips slam at the flesh of your ass.

Rubbing your clit fervently, Satoru’s name comes out as a broken cry as your orgasm chokes you. The tears are staining your cheeks the same way your cum is making a mess on the sheets, and you grind down harder on the sheets, scissoring yourself just to extend your orgasm.

“Satoru,” you whine, “Fuckkk.”

“I’m close, baby, I’m-” Satoru falls forward when his cock shoots out thick ropes of cum, some of them landing on his abdomen and one sticks to his chin. Your pupils blow wide with lust as you shudder around your fingers while riding down your high, in disbelief that Satoru is cumming so much.

He’s shameless as he continues thrusting into his fists. You’re worried he would overuse his strength and beat his cock to death, but Satoru only chuckles as he keeps pumping his cock, his cum overflowing and pooling down his thick thighs.

“Shit,” he mumbles to himself, falling in the same state as you when he drops down on the bed. His dick begins to turn limp but it’s still twitching, turning a dark shade of pink as he beats his dick almost lazily the time. The both of you take a moment to breathe at the orgasm; not as mind blowing as the ones you’d get if he was there rutting into you instead, but because he’s there, you’re still left with the aftershocks of pleasure.

Wiping the arousal left on your hands on your shirt, you grab your phone and fall into your pillows, cheeks squished and eyelashes fluttering slowly. “Toru,” you call out softly, “You asleep?”

“I want to come home already,” is all he says. He’s still half-passed out in his bed and you laugh, rubbing your thighs together and grimacing when it starts to stick together from your cum. Glancing at Satoru’s form, you dash to the bath to clean yourself up by washing away the cum, coming back to see that Satoru was also in the middle of cleaning his cum with napkins.

“Facetime sex,” he laughs to himself with a shake of his head, mirroring your form by langind on his pillows. He looks absolutely adorable with his lips puckered out like that, azure blue eyes drooping close. “I miss you, babe. I promise when I come home I’m going to fuck you endless.”

You chuckle at his words, wondering how he’s able to say such suggestive things when he’s seconds away from passing out due to exhaustion. Your eyelids grow heavy as well, and along with the light blanket of satisfaction and post-orgasm bliss, the only thing that wouldn’t make this a good night of sleep is the fact Satoru isn’t next to you. Nevertheless, you’re grateful that Satoru took the time to call you despite his busy schedule.

Your heart flutters when Satoru lazily calls you baby, mumbling on and on about how much he misses you. Now that he’s come down from his high, he’s reverting into his big baby self.

His eyes are closed and he’s burying himself deeper into his pillows. You’re about to say goodbye when Satoru lightly snores from the other line, a smile tugging at your lips when you see that he’s now blissfully asleep. Wishing that you could run your hands through his hair, at least, you kiss the screen in the hopes it’d reach him at least metaphorically.

“Sleep well, my love,” you whisper before swiping left to end the call.

Even through the other end of the line, on the other side of the world, Satoru’s worries and exhaustion are washed away with the love you send him.

[star1117-archives]

𝟎𝟎:𝟒𝟔 - 𝐂. 𝐉𝐇

➵ Pairing : Yandere!Jongho x Gn!Reader

➵ Genre : Horror

➵ W.C : 523

➵ Warnings : ABUSE, Yandere behaviour, Sexual advances, Stockholm syndrome, Threats, Violence.

➵ A/N : I am not promoting/condoning this type of behaviour in any way, shape or form, hence the horror tag

© 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝟏𝟏𝟏𝟕-𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost or use my work in any way, shape or form.

A whimper left your mouth as Jongho pricked you with the needle, a tiny dot of blood blossoming on your skin. You pursed your lips together and peeked at him out of one eye, finding him staring at you with a cold expression. He watched carefully as your eyes slowly filled with tears, expecting a punishment as you were told to stay quiet. Dolls don’t speak after all. You only just managed to keep in your sigh of relief as he tutted and kept sewing, apparently ignoring your mistake. Strange, Jongho never let you go unpunished.

”Stop gawking and straighten your back.”

You immediately fixed your posture, ignoring the click your back made from standing up for so long. Almost reading your thoughts, or perhaps he heard the click, Jongho looked up again with a soft smile. The pure love in his gaze, the adoration as he looked at you, it could make a grown man blush. His soft hand pushed a hair out of your face, twirling it on his finger before letting it ping back onto your head.

”I’m nearly finished my darling, you just wait. You’ll be as pretty as a picture when I’m done with you.”

You nodded and his smile widened, his face moving forward to kiss you on the cheek. You felt yourself flush as you felt him peck your cheek, moving down slightly to nibble at your neck before returning up to whisper in your ear.

”Stop being so pure, so innocent. I don’t wanna rip this dress off you just yet, so stop making me feel this way.”

Just as he was about to reward you a small moan escaped your lips, and the male completely lost the plot. Jongho grabbed your chin, grip like a vice as his voice dropped an octave. He almost seemed to snarl as he spoke, eyes burning with rage and all his flirty tone gone.

”I told you to fucking be quiet when I started, didn’t I? I told you Master needs to concentrate, yet you disobeyed me.”

Shaking your head adrenaline filled your head, clouding your judgement.

”I’m sorry Mas-“

A scream left your mouth as Jongho slapped you hard across the cheek, sending you tumbling to the floor. Your skin burned as all the safety pins dislodged, piercing your skin in a painful way. You resisted the urge to curl up when Jongho walked over to you, now even more angry.

“See?! It’s like you wanna be hurt! Why can’t you just be good?!”

He crouched down to where you lay, pulling your head up by your hair. Your scalp seared with pain as tears flowed freely down your cheeks. Another rule broken, no crying.

”You don’t know how to be quiet, such a stupid doll. I guess I’ll have to make sure you stay quiet, hm?”

Jongho picked up his needle quickly and raised it to your face, grinning insanely as it glinted in your large pupils. He grabbed your lips with his thumb and finger, edging closer while letting out a chuckle.

”I’ll sew your lips up good my pretty, then you’ll never have to worry about being quiet again.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Yandere Taglist !! ˊˎ-

@agustd-essert @hyuckilstan @a-soft-hornytiny @nyghtwolff-1117 @artemis-in-your-area @violetwinters @katelynnsqueendom @galaxybambam @yunhobabygurl @lee--felix @multidreams-and-desires @anpanseok @itbecina @kun-flower @ccarpc @yunhosprettyhand @mingitheii @vilavixg @the-answer-is-love-yrself @taehyunscaramelfrappe @mrcarrots @effulgentfireflies @lisa14-blog1 @imwhoever @cactusmalassus @ateezbabysitters @meowmeowminnie @soft-teddybear @cheline @hwarora @a1sh1teruu @fantasy2wonderland @xuxibelle @dazzlingligth @simeonswhore

Apply for the taglists here -> ꕥ༉‧₊˚.

[yoichichi]

Phone Sex

18+ MINORS DNI

jean, armin, & eren (sep) x reader

warning(s): slight dom reader, male masturbation, humiliation, degradation, edging, phone sex, crying ig?, self-masturbation mentioned in Jeans but I tried to make it gender neutral, eren calls reader mommy in his but it’s like slightly a joke ,, at first🧍‍♀️

a/n: ANON YOU.... you have a mind of gold. This was a request for reading guiding the boys while they masturbate so this is that! I hope this was what you were looking for anon! :) <3 and as always I love to hear your thoughts so pls send them in 😭 i also did my best to keep the reader neutral when it mentions the reader masturbating !

Jean

When you were woke up at 2 in the morning by a call from Jean, you definitely thought you’d be racing over to his place for some kind of emergency. But when you slid your thumb across the screen and held your phone up to ear, grumbling out a ,“hello?”, instead you were met with whiny, breathy moans, pleading for a different kind of help.

“Baby? You up?” You could barely hear him over his heavy panting.

“Well, I am now.”

It was silent for a few moments while you heard him shuffling around in his bed.

“Do ya need something babe? What’d you call me so late for?” You took an innocent tone to your voice, but you knew exactly what he needed from you.

“Hnng- ah- um, yeah. I - are you - ah - busy?”

You sighed and grumbled for him to give you a second as you moved to lay on your back and put your headphones on,

“You’re sitting there with that pretty cock of yours in your hands, aren’t you? So needy and desperate to cum that you had to wake me up at 2 in the morning just to hear my voice? Aw, I never knew you were such a little slut, Jean.”

Your hands reached down between your legs to slide your bottoms off at the sound of a hoarse whimper from the other end of the phone call, clearly he was caught off guard by your sudden crude words.

“You like that? Being reminded how much of a slut you are for me?”

“Ah - mhm.” You could hear the speed of his hand increasing, and judging by his moans you could tell he was getting close.

“Look at you, all worked up and already about to make a mess of yourself. Wanna cum baby? Tell me how bad you want it.” You hummed as you brought your fingers down to play with yourself, now throbbing with need from the sound of Jeans moans; which were filled with the obvious longing to be fucking you or your dirty mouth instead of his fist.

“Oh god, I want it so bad, only you - fuck - only - oh god, baby please lemme cum.” You could see him now, a panting sweaty mess with his large hand wrapped around his cock. He was probably bucking up into his hand, the other one fisting the sheet while he tried to ground himself and wait for your permission, wanting so bad to be good for you. The head of his cock slightly swollen with need and his pretty face all scrunched up with focus.

“Yeah? You wanna cum?”

“Fuck, yes. Please?”

“Awww, what a good boy. Go on and lemme hear you cum then.”

His pretty groan filled your ears before it came out strangled and separated with gasps.

You let him ride out his high a bit longer until he spoke.

“Thank you, babe. Sorry to wake you up.” He had a sense of bashfulness to his voice - not matching the confidence he had earlier to dial you in the first place.

“Mmm, don’t worry about it. You can make it up to me by staying on the line until I cum this time.”

Armin

You’d be lying if you said Armins sniffling coming through the phone didn’t make you smile. You love when he listens to you, even when it’s killing him to do so.

“C-can I, can I keep going?” His voice was so soft and meek you could barely hear him.

He sat with his hand resting at the base of his cock, not squeezing or moving an inch. Every so often he’d run his hand through his hair or let it slide down his chest, brushing past his nipples, desperate for some kind of stimulation.

Every twitch of his cock made the tears resting on his lash line spill and stream down his red cheeks, god you could just imagine it. What you wouldn’t give to be in front of him now and see it for yourself.

“Mhm, but I want you to go nice ‘n slow. You think you can do that for me?” You did your best to keep your tone calm and unwavering, luring him into doing what you wanted, knowing he’s a sucker for receiving your praise.

“Of course I can.” He said it matter of factly, almost appalled that you’d assume he couldn’t do anything you ask of him.

“Well, go on then.”

He hissed at the sensation of his cold, tough hands dragging slowly up his cock, squeezing slightly at the head just to tease himself further - making sure to let an erotic moan slip past his lips to let you know he was going above and beyond for you. Even fondling his balls just to make the desire to cum all that more excruciating, and showing you just how much he could take if it meant being good for you.

“You sound so pretty baby, think you can hold out just a little bit longer for me? You know how much I love listening to you touch yourself, such an angel.”

“Y-yes.” He swallowed thickly - loud enough that you could hear it - knowing how proud of him you were gonna be.

“Good boy.”

Eren

Eren rarely enjoyed phone sex, too needy and demanding to think it was worth it; especially when he could pick you up or come over at any time. So why the hell would he choose to be separated and touch himself while he listened to you over the phone?

But I guess it’s different when he’s at work and only has 30 minutes to ease the strain in his pants and get you off his mind. Which is exactly why he’s calling your contact with a shaky hand as he sits in his car, making sure to park where no one would come to bother him, with the other hand busy pulling out his fat cock previously stuffed and feeling claustrophobic in his jeans - he’s lucky his work apron kept his appearance decent.

He hissed at the way it sprang up against his abdomen, his cock head already angry and swollen. God he hated you, getting him all worked up at work just because he couldn’t stop thinking about bending you over and slamming you so hard you couldn’t do anything but whine and whimper, not even able to get out a coherent sentence about how good he filled you up.

But the moment he heard the ringing falter and your sweet voice greet him , “Hey babe what’s up? Aren’t you at work right now?”, all animosity left his body. A low whimper leaving his lips instead, so desperately wanting your lips wrapped around his cock it was almost agonizing.

“Fuck babe, I need you - oh fuck - I need you to make me cum quick, ah hnngh god -“ he spoke so fast and quiet you almost thought he was in trouble, but judging by the way his voice was getting raspy, and the way it cracked at the end of his sentence, you knew he was perfectly fine.

You sighed and set your highlighter down, knowing you wouldn’t be getting back to your studying any time soon.

“Babe? You there? I -“

“Mhmm, ‘m right here.” You cut him off quickly, gnawing at your bottom lip to the sounds of his quiet pants, knowing he was quickly fisting his cock and probably on his lunch break, needing to finish fast, doing his best to cum as quick as he could, and yet he still needed to call you to help him do that? God what an ego boost.

But, you were busy studying. And rarely do you have him in such a powerless position, why not have some fun with him?

“Okay, I’ll help.” You smiled coyly at his sigh of relief.

“Really babe? Oh my g-“

“But promise you’ll do what I say?”

He was silent for a moment, but he knew he didn’t have much time to protest and really, he was putty in your hands right now. He agreed before he could change his mind, and that’s what led him to the position he was in now.

His cock sensitive to the touch and his hair falling out of his bun, his face flushed and looking slightly a mess with the sweat that was beginning to collect on his forehead.

He probably had but two minutes left on his break and he needed to come, bad.

“Please, Jesus fuck I’ve been listening but god I need to cum. I’m -“

“Okay Eren I hear you,” you giggled for a moment and he felt his stomach drop, you were up to something, “why don’t you ask mommy for permission?”

“What?”

You giggled again at his exclamation and knew he was getting frustrated by the groan he let out, but you were having too much fun, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

“You heard me, you wanna cum so bad? Call me mommy and beg for it.” You sighed and sat back in your chair. He should’ve expected you to do something to get back at him for bothering you while you were busy, what either of you weren’t expecting though was how quickly he caved.

“Mommy, please.” His voice cracked from the dryness of his throat as he whimpered out his plea, not expecting it to send your stomach into a frenzy.

“God please let me cum, please mommy, please.”

“Y-yeah okay, go on and finish.” You sat in shock as you heard his sweet moans come through the phone, an octave higher than they’d usually be.

“I-, fuck, I gotta go back to work. You really cut it close babe. See you when I get home.” He hung up quickly, hoping it didn’t come off as rude - he just had little to no time to clean himself up before he had to clock back in.

But it didn’t matter cause you were still reeling from the way he so freely whimpered out mommy, and how enticing it sounded coming from him.

Hmm, you had a lot to think about.

———————

THIS IS MY FIRST KINDA DOM READER THING SO PLS GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS YOU KNOW I LOVE THEM and ily it’s been a while since I posted :) <3

taglist: @plutowrites @armins-futon @peachysimp @semisgroupie (I hope it’s ok to tag you it’s kinda subby boys so I thought you might be interested 🧍‍♀️)

[oilivia]

"don't call me by my name" - w/ Sakusa

a/n: i planned to write something completely different, but here we are - dom Sakusa! let me know any feedback you have ♡♡ smut after the cut

cw/tw: smut, dom Sakusa, dubcon, choking, degradation, kabedon, marking, knee-riding, fingering, manhandling, creampie

wording: 1.1k

“Do you know what you fucking do to me?” Sakusa pushes you against the bathroom wall, his voice dropping an octave lower as he cages you with his arms. 

There’s no escaping him. 

“Prancing around the room in that tight dress, flaunting your ass for of all those fuckers. Are you that desperate for attention, hmm? Is my cock not enough for you?” 

“Omi-” your words die in your throat when his fingers clasp around your neck, Sakusa’s knee forcing your thighs open.

“Don’t ‘Omi’ me,” he snarls in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. His knee rubs roughly at your clit through the thin fabric of your panties and you can feel your folds growing wet with slick. “Sluts like you don’t get to call me by my name. Look at you, getting all hot and bothered from being manhandled.” He chuckled, fingers clutching tighter at your neck. “Aren’t you a masochistic little bitch?”

You feel yourself get lightheaded and you know you’ve fucked up. “Sir,” your choked-out voice sounds like music to Sakusa’s ears. There it is, he’s proud to see you haven’t forgotten. He won’t make it easy for you though - you made him jealous, seeing everyone at the party ogling your ass and your tits stirred him. 

You’re Sakusa’s and his only.

He loosens the hold, gripping your chin then tilting your face up to meet his eyes. “That’s more like it.” His words are harsh, but you see his eyes soften for a moment before something darker brews in his gaze when it drops to your slightly parted lips. He won’t kiss you, you know that. It’s one of Sakusa’s rules for when you make him angry - no kisses and no pet names, not until you’ve learned your lesson.

Still, that doesn’t mean no fun.

He pulls down the straps of your dress, your exposed nipples hardening at the contact with the cold air of the bathroom. Deft fingers trail your jawline, tracing the column of your neck until they reach the blooming buds on your chest, brushing against them as goosebumps litter your skin. You can’t help the soft whimpers that leave your mouth at the lingering touches that torment you while Sakusa still tirelessly works your clit.

You feel your knees wanting to give out, pleasure clouding your mind as Sakusa’s lips touch your shoulder. You know it’s not a kiss. No, not when you feel teeth gripping at your flesh, biting and sucking with fervor. Your moans grow louder as he marks you, a promise you need no words to understand - ‘You’re going back there and everyone will know who you belong to, who fucked you and marred your skin in the bathroom.’

You don’t mind it though, not with how his hands move to pull down your panties only to let them pool at your ankles as he unzips his pants to free his throbbing erection. No matter how many times you see it, you can’t help but gulp at the size. Something that big can’t possibly fit inside you. But Sakusa always manages to make it fit.

“Don’t worry, I know you can barely take me even when you’re prepped. I don’t plan to hurt you - not in that way at least,” he chuckles, pushing two fingers inside your sopping cunt, spreading and scissoring them in an attempt to make it easier for his cock to slip in. You let out a cry, gripping at his shoulders as he starts pumping in and out of you faster and faster. You’re gushing on his hand when he adds another finger, spreading and trying to loosen up your too-tight walls.

He pulls out with no warning, making your hole clench around nothing “That’s as much as that slutty cunt is getting.” For a moment you’re scared that he’s going to zip his pants back up and leave you there panting, so when you see him align his cock with your entrance, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Sir.” The words fall from your mouth with ease. You’re grateful, and you know how much Sakusa loves it when you’re polite. 

And as if on cue, his lips curve into a slight smile “That’s a good girl. Now hold onto me,”  he instructs with a stern tone. You oblige, the praise making the coil in your abdomen twist tighter as the pressure threatens to overwhelm you. You wrap your arms around his neck, trying to brace yourself as your needy cunt clenches with anticipation.

And right when you are about to open your mouth to beg, impatient and hungry for him, you feel yourself go breathless as Sakusa’s pushes into you, his cock splitting you inch by inch, eyes transfixed on you and drinking up every twist of your face as the pleasure drowns your senses. Moans get stuck at the back of your throat as you squirm, desperate and unsure if you want to escape the mind-numbing sensation or sink yourself deeper onto his cock. 

With a swift motion, he pulls out of you just to thrust deeper, burying himself to the hilt inside you. You writhe under his touches, body shaking and jerking as each shove pushes you harder and harder against the wall. “You’re such a needy slut, aren’t you?” Delirious moans spill out of your mouth as your hole squeezes the invading cock, Sakusa’s words only serving to spur you on. 

You feel as if you’re about to break under the rough touches of the man before you. He grunts as he feels the pressure build up inside him, chasing release with eager hands groping your flesh and fingertips digging into your skin. 

And just as he’s about to spill his seed inside you he relents, hungry lips meeting, mouths crashing into a searing kiss that sends you over the edge you danced on for the past fifteen minutes. He greedily swallows your cries as you cum, your walls tightening around his cock and milking it until your insides are painted white as Sakusa cums with a loud groan. 

He breaks the kiss in favor of a much-needed breath, head resting on your shoulder as he keeps you still, letting your orgasms wash over you. You stay like that for a while and as you come back from your high you feel lips planting soft kisses on the glistening skin of your neck.

“You did well, baby.”

© 2021 all content belongs to @cherrysdollhouse​​, do not modify or repost without permission

[bucksfucks]

m- mob steve hc? 🥺

𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨 ; 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨

summary || punishment with mob!steve

warnings || daddy kink, spanking, pet-names, slight mocking, unprotected sex — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

mob!steve treating you like the absolute princess™ that you are and spoiling you to no ends. but while he may be all sweet and soft with you, he’s got a cold and mean exterior that makes him so good at his job. “honey buns, can you slide off my lap for a second?” he hums in your ear as you pout but reluctantly do so, so he can grab something. “thank you princess, now get back on here.” he smirks playfully, knowing that he can’t do any work unless you’re on his lap.

he also hates getting you involved in anything he does for work—going to all ends to protect you from anyone and anything because there’s literally nothing else he cares for more than you. but you also love getting mob!steve angry because...the sex is just too good. it’s absolutely mind blowing how he takes out his anger on you.

“oh, you think that’s funny, little girl?” he asks rhetorically as you giggle softly. “you think it’s funny to run away from daddy and not tell him where you are all damn day?” he suddenly snaps, his voice dropping an octave as he forces your face between his fingers. “you’ve really done it now, princess.” he growls, slamming his office door shut loudly as a sign for everyone to simply fuck off.

“over my lap. and be prepared to count.” he says cooly, sitting down on the rich, plush sofa across from the large windows. he looks massive, intimidating and absolutely mouth watering as you squeak when he snaps his fingers. “now.” it’s a demand and you aren’t about to object as you lay yourself over his lap. “good girl, i guess you can listen to instructions.” he mocks, smoothing his skin over your panties covered ass as your skirt is hiked up.

you don’t get a warning before the first smack is laid against your ass. “count.” his voice is stern and confident and you’re forced to spit out the number. you wonder when it’s going to end, your skin raw by the end of the 17 spanks—his lucky number. “i’m sorry, princess, but you went against all my rules. you know what happens.” he cooes, lifting you up until you’re straddling him. you’re not mad at him, the ache between your thighs is telling enough as you bury your head in the crook of his neck.

your hips move against his slowly, barely noticeable as steve hums. “does my princess need some more attention?” he asks, smirking as you nod your head. “well why don’t you move your panties to the side, let my cock just,” he whispers, “slip right in.” he purrs. your stomach flips as you do that, watching steve take his cock out before you feel him at your entrance. “that’s right, just relax princess. let daddy take care of you.” he says lowly in your ear as he stretches you and fills you up.

you relax against his body, his fingers digging into your ass and thighs as he moves you up and down his cock. “so good for me, baby. feel so fuckin’ good.” he groans, your fingers wrapping around the lapels of his suit jacket he’s still wearing. “oh honey, i can feel how tight you’re squeezin’ me, you can let go. don’t hold back for daddy.” he encourages, angling his hips upwards before you’re giving into his words. you can feel him stilling inside of you, painting your walls as you’re both panting, trying to catch your breaths.

“you know i don’t like punishing you, princess.” he whispers, kissing your face. “but you really worried me there, can’t have anything happenin’ to my best girl.”

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Okay soooo I know that Oberyn is your fave, so I'm going to request our sex god of a Prince. "You'll have to make me." "Oh, is that so?" *evil laugh here* Can't wait to see what my bestie boo comes up with

A/N: I’m in love with Oberyn Martell so thank you for indulging me. :D ILY 

Thank you for every reblog, comment, and like. 

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x F! Reader (Little Sparrow) x Ellaria Sand 

Warnings: 18 + Only (Language, domesticity, oral F! receiving, mentions of sexy times) 

Masterlist 

Lemon Tarts 

You stood across from the three little girls, their hands on their hips, just like their father. “Obella, Dorea, Loreza,” you stern your expression, “which of you did it?” 

“What do you mean, Mama?” Dorea asks with a grin; oh, the sly viper had taught his daughters well. Ellaria giggles behind, and you turn to stick your tongue out at her. “Mommy, is she well?” 

“Your Mama is quite well, my love, but she wants to know which of you naughty girls took the lemon tarts from the kitchen?” They look conspiratorially between each other, and you bite your lip to stop the smile that threatens to show. “Come now,” she demands, “Which one of you did it?” 

“It’s a secret,” Loreza whispers giggling, and you drop to your knees, seeing the weak link in the chain with the youngest. 

“What’s the secret, my sweet Dove?” You twirl her dark curls behind her ear, and she leans into your hold, reaching out to hug you. 

“Papa, said we couldn’t tell,” she whispers in your ear, and the smile breaks out across your face. “We caught him in the kitchen eating the tarts, and he shared one with us. He made us promise not to tell.” You giggle and hold her tighter to your chest, standing with her in your arms, her legs wrapping around you like a monkey. 

“Loreza! Papa told us not to tell!” Obella scolds, and you look over at Ellaria with a grin. 

“It seems like Papa has been getting into my sweets; what shall we do to him? I think he will need to be punished for getting into things he shouldn’t be.” You let Loreza down with a kiss on her head, and Ellaria giggles and winks at you. 

“Yes, I think a punishment is in order; why don’t you go find him? He is in the training yards with the girls.” You nod and go over to grab your shawl and wrap it around your shoulders, the rain outside sending a slight chill through the palace. Obella holds your dress and pulls you down to her level, “what’s wrong, my darling?” 

“Please, don’t tell Papa we said anything. We don’t want him to be angry with us,” her tiny voice shakes and she looks close to tears. 

You wrap her in a big hug, “Don’t worry, my darling, your secret is safe with me.” She nods, hugging your neck tighter, which you eagerly return. Each day the girls get older, and one day, they won’t want hugs and cuddles; you must take advantage of it as long as you can. You let go and rise, leaning down to kiss Ellaria gently, smiling when she takes your bottom lip between her teeth and pulls. 

“Make him pay Little Sparrow, he must know how angry you are with him. Don’t let him persuade you away with his flowery words and gentle touch.” You give her another quick kiss and a smile walking over to the training fields. 

You follow the sounds of grunts and groans, watching from the upper deck at the fighters below. Nym and Obara spar in the center a deadly and delicate dance of quick footwork and fists. “Dive Nym!” Oberyn shouts from the corner, “you must be ready to anticipate her every move. Don’t let the fact that she is your sister distract you from your goal.”

Nym watches Obara closely as she circles her like a predator viewing its prey. “Now,” Oberyn coaches, “strike!” You hold your breath as Nym gets a grip on her sister and swings her to the ground, her hands coming out to brace on either side of her head, wrists pinned down. “GOOD! Well done!” he claps his hands together and walks over to the table to drink a sip of wine and pops a few berries into his mouth. 

You clap your hands together, and all three pairs of eyes slowly look up to watch you leaning over the railing. “Well done, girls! You have become such fearsome warriors; you bring such glory to your family, my loves.” They smile at you and mumble, “Thank you, mama”, under their breath, both shy with the praise. 

“What about me, Little Sparrow?” Oberyn shouts up at you with a smile, “no compliments for the one who trains them? You glare down at him, and his smile drops, a worried expression growing on his face. 

“You are in trouble, Oberyn Martell,” he freezes, his eyes widening; you only used his name when you were cross with him. “I know your secret, and I am here to make you pay.” 

“And what pray tell, is this indiscretion I’ve committed, my love?” The girls look between the two of you and quickly realize this is something they don’t want to miss. It takes everything you have not to giggle when they walk over to the table and grab a glass of wine and watch between the two of you like a drama at the theater. 

“It would seem that the lemon tarts I’ve spent hours baking are all gone. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” To his credit, he does look concerned for a moment before he slips on that charming smile, the one you can’t possibly resist. 

He gives a nervous chuckle and rubs the back of his head, “I wouldn’t know anything about that Little Sparrow; maybe some snakes got into the kitchen and took off with your treats. Come down here, and we can talk about it further.” He flicks his wrist down to the spot in front of him, and you scoff. 

“You’ll have to make me.” 

“Oh, is that so?” You nod, and he sighs, removing his outer coat and leaving him shirtless; the golden chain around his neck glistens, his sun-kissed skin making you weak. The girls quickly stand, taking their cups and leave out the side door. “If you won’t come to me, then I guess I will need to come to you.” He walks over to the large column and begins to scale the wall, hands intertwined in the wild ivy growing around the stone. 

“Are you out of your mind?!” you step closer to the column, reaching a hand out for him. 

He stops before your outstretched hand and puts a hand to his chest with a dramatic sigh, “my Little Sparrow, love of my life, please forgive me for eating your delicious lemon tarts. They were positively perfect; I couldn’t resist.” 

You put your hands on your hips knowing precisely what he’s doing. “Are you doing something rather dangerous so that I won’t be cross with you anymore?” He grins, and you scoff, “you’re insane; I should have married the baker’s son. Then I could have had lemon tarts, and a sane man warm my bed every night!” You yelp as he swings a leg over the banister and turn, running down the hall, Oberyn hot on your heels. 

You turn the corner and barrel past servents who giggle as you make your way back in the direction of Ellaria and the girls. The youngest giggle when you scream around the corner, coming to stand behind Ellaria. Oberyn grasps the table and fakes left and right, trying to anticipate your every move. “Papa!” Loreza shouts, watching, “what are you doing?” 

He laughs, reaching for you as you move out from behind Ellaria and try to sneak past him. “It doesn’t seem like your quest has been successful, Sparrow,” Ellaria teases, looking up at you from her book. “It seems like our Prince has the upper hand right now.” You try to run past him, but he grabs you with a shriek and tosses you over his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry little ones, but Mama thought it was a good idea to tease Papa.” You hit his back, and he slaps your ass. 

“What did Mama tease you about?” Ellaria smiles behind the hand covering her mouth, and you try to look around him to flip her the bird. 

“She said she wished she’d married someone else besides Papa. Can you believe that, my little Princesses?” You can’t see the girls, but their shrieks of laughter make you smile. 

“That’s silly!” Dorea jumps up and down, “Papa is the best man there is!” 

You can hear the smile in his voice, “thank you, Princess Dorea, now Papa has to go and remind Mama why she married him, and not,” his voice drops an octave, “some baker’s son.” He turns and you lift your head, reaching a hand out to Ellaria, who shakes her head with a laugh. 

“See you later, my love,” she shouts with a wave, the little girls waving goodbye as they jump around and giggle. 

There is not much dignity when you’re carried over your lover’s shoulder to be punished, and you try to avoid eye contact with everyone you pass—sighing in relief when the doors to your chamber close behind him, yelping as he tosses you on the bed. Oberyn stands above you, still shirtless, still handsome, but with a darkened glint in his eyes. 

He reaches out for you and quickly undresses you, peering down at you with a hunger that no lemon tart would satisfy. He spreads your legs, his big hands sliding up your thighs. “What was it you said, Little Sparrow?” your breath catches as he settles himself before your juicy cunt, “you should have married the baker’s son, so you could have all the lemon tarts you wanted an a-” he draws one thick finger through your folds. “-a sane man warm your bed? Let me remind you what that baker’s son could not do for you, my love.” 

He spends the next several hours reminding you why you chose to be with him over all others. His devotion to your body is unmatched as he makes you cum with his tongue, fingers, cock, and all over your chambers. There’s a pleasant ache between your legs, and the perspiration glows on your skin. The moonlight streams through the open window. Oberyn’s weight is comfortable as his arm is slung across your waist, lips kissing a trail down your shoulder and back up to your ear. “I think we broke our record,” he teases, sucking your ear lobe into his warm mouth. 

You turn and smile, giving him a languid kiss, “yes, you seemed to be quite motivated.” 

“Can you blame me?” he kisses the end of your nose, “you told me you wished to marry another. You’re mine; I needed to prove it.” You giggle and kiss him again, both of you turning when the door swings open. Ellaria walks inside, and you are struck with how gorgeous she is, her breasts spilling over the edges of her dress like a delicious wrapped present. 

“I have a gift for you,” she smiles, presenting a plate from behind her back, a single lemon tart in the center. “The girls and I have been working for hours, trying to get it just right.” 

You clap your hands, not caring that the sheet slips down your body as you coo in delight. “I can’t wait to taste it!” She grins and hands you the dish, your mouth watering as she strips out of her clothes and pulls the sheet away. Her necklace and bracelets click as she spreads your legs and settles between them, Oberyn reaching a hand out to palm your breast. You take a bite of the tart and moan at the perfect combination of tart and sweet, but the moans quickly turn to something else as Ellaria licks your pussy. 

“Wh-what are you d-doing?” you stutter the crumbs from the tart sprinkling down your chest, Oberyn eagerly surging forward to lick and suck them from your skin. 

“Our Prince got to remind you why you chose him, but I wanted to make sure you truly know what you would be missing if you married that Baker’s son. See, I even made you lemon tarts,” she smiles before resuming her kitten licks on your clit, her nails trailing over your hips. 

And fuck, do you never forget. 

Taglist: @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskosgirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit  @mimimi-stuff  @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501  @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos  @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @demoncrypt1066 @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @veracruz-djarin @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss  @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031  @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @lunarthoughts

Pedro Pascal Taglist: @lycheemi @purplepascal042 @poubxlle @dreamer-101 @thewayofthemandalorian @omlwhatamidoinghere @linkpk88 @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @mrsparknuts @zannemes @xjaywritesx @mandocrest @petersunderoos96 @notabotiswear @mando-amando @lv7867 @mudhorn-djarin19 @ka-x-in @sleep-tight1 @freeshavocadoooo @dinner-djarin @mssbridgerton @prideandpascal @theflightytemptressadventure @notabotiswear @Pintsizemama @pascal-rascal424 @allmahfeels @the-ginger-hedge-witch @soyelfuegoquearde @northernpunk @clydesducktape @a-skov @darnitdraco @spideysimpossiblegirl @jediknight122

Oberyn Martell Taglist: @theatricalbride @meshlamando  @seasonschange-butpeopledont @blufanfictionthings  @queenbbarnes @talesfromtheguild @rpcvliz @evyiione @browneyes-djarin @lips-for-you @midnightzonzz

[ly-sona]

[❀] ❝ comfort 。ni-ki ❞

❀ pair: ni-ki x fem!oc ❀ tags: sulking and apologies ig- its just some cute fluff ❀ au: established relationship ❀ warnings: fluff ❀ word count: 597 ❀ status: completed

She was sulking. Mirae was sulking.

She usually never sulked—she was usually calm, sweet, composed, and understanding.

But today, she needed her boyfriend.

Mirae had come to her boyfriend's house after school, extremely disheartened by the bad grade she'd gotten. She didn't think she'd do so bad on a simple math test, so when she saw the grade she didn't expect, she'd almost burst into tears right then and there.

She thought going to see her boyfriend would be good—he always knew how to cheer her up. However, that's not what happened.

"Rae, I'm busy," Niki said as he smashed the buttons of his keyboard. "HEESEUNG HYUNG WATCH OUT."

He barely looked at her. And she was upset. She eventually laid down on his bed, hugging his teddy bear as she stared at the nightstand. Tears streamed down her face in disappointment and sadness.

Nothing was going right for her today.

Maybe she could've caused a fuss to get Niki to pay attention to her, but she couldn't get herself to bring that attention onto herself. She liked to be understanding, and she'd have felt bad if she forced him to stop doing what he likes to do to relax.

Yet, she couldn't stop the overwhelming that transformed into the heavy teardrops that pooled around her eyes. And she eventually drifted off to sleep, tired from silently crying.

When Niki finally switched off his console, he turned around to see Mirae sound asleep on his bed. Smiling at the sight of his cute girlfriend, he moved over to truly observe her—that is, until he saw her tear-stained face.

Why was she crying?

Millions of thoughts raced through his head as he started pondering what may have happened.

Was she crying when she got here?

Remembering her wavering tone, a wave of guilt washed over the young male as he realized that she was. He didn't even bother to give her the attention that she had clearly needed, and it made him feel terrible. Quickly, he ran into the kitchen, picking up some matcha pocky from his pantry before returning. Hesitantly, he woke her up.

"Rae?"

Mirae groggily opened her eyes, confused as she stared at him. She was so deep into her slumber that she'd forgotten where she was for a moment, expecting to see her own bed. Then, she remembered, and her confused face dropped to a subtle frown—one which Niki easily noticed.

"Yes?" she mumbled in question. Her voice was an octave lower than usual, adding to her emotional state.

"Why were you crying?" he asked, genuinely worried as he took a seat on his bed. "Did something bad happen during classes?"

Mirae shook her head, taking in a deep breath. She guessed she should explain what caused her emotions to reach such a messy state.

"I did bad on my test—really bad. I've felt like shit all day," she started before mumbling, "which is why I came here."

Niki frowned, realizing he'd blatantly ignored her when she needed him. "I'm sorry for being insensitive," he spoke, moving closer to her to capture her in a hug.

Mirae instantly returned the hug, unable to be angry at the boy for a long period of time. She understood that he was immersed in the game.

"Don't worry, you did nothing wrong," she reassured him.

"But I did though," he pouted before pulling out the pack of matcha pocky. "How about this and movie night for an apology?"

Mirae smiled, instantly grabbing the delicious chocolate snack out of his hands.

"Apology accepted!"

unedited

started and finished—11/1/2021

a/n: hehe- i wrote this for my friend :D

© All Rights Reserved

[skylarmoon71]

Eobard Thawne (Flash) - Chapter 10

You’re the one who proposed sleeping at Star Labs that night, so why are you the most nervous?

“I can feel your nerves from all the way here.”

You flinch, and Eobard just smiles, patting the bed.

The room is one of the many that the workers used when they were stuck on overnight projects. The bed was pretty spacious too. More than enough for the both of you. After freshening up and preparing for sleep, you can’t seem to calm down.

“J-Just so you know, we’re just sleeping, nothing else!”

“Roger.”

You huff, walking over and lifting the covers as you slide underneath. You make sure to keep at a distance, eyes directed at the ceiling. You fidget for the first few minutes, and Eobard smiles to himself.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!”

His grin just widens.

“I won’t do anything, so relax."

You deflate.

“Are you disappointed?”

You blush turning your back to him, and Eobard just laughs.

“It’s so easy to rile you up.”

“Goodnight!” you hiss.

It was foolish getting worked up, you knew that. But he never failed to get under your skin. Hugging the sheets, you sigh, closing your eyes. The day's events were still running through your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

You almost think you imagined it, but you turn slowly. Eobard’s gaze is still directed at you.

“I’m far from a hero. I don’t believe that is going to change overnight, but when I saw you in pain, I reacted. It pissed me off, but I should have been better. You’re doing this for me. So I’ll try harder to control my temper.”

You know it has taken a lot for him to admit that to you. The fact that he was so concerned about you, it was just a small display that he still had some humanity in him. Even after all he’d done. He was angry for your sake.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Being a hero yourself, it’s never really easy to ask for help. Your very purpose was to aid others. Although you’re still trying to prove your worth, it’s a bit frustrating how often you need to be saved. You move closer to him, and he wants to say something, but you just bury your face into his chest. Eobard becomes silent, and you take a deep breath, looking up at him through your lashes.

“You smell really good.” His pupils visibly dilate, and he swallows.

“I thought you said we were just sleeping.” He groused. His tone has dropped a few octaves, and you smile.

“We are..” you cooed.

His hand lifts, and he strokes your cheek, brushing your hair to the side. His palm stays on your cheek, and you feel so warm.

“You shouldn’t be so carefree around me.” He sounds a bit serious now.

“I’m not worried.”

It’s a challenge for him to act like your very presence doesn’t affect everything he does. You lay your hand over the one that’s on your cheek, smiling one last time as you close your eyes, getting comfortable.

Eobard grumbles defeatedly.

“Who’s the villain now?”

“Still you~”

You grin, falling into slumber.

~The Next Morning~

You shift against the sheets, eyebrows knitting as you give a soft yawn. An arm is casually laying around your midsection, and you smile. He has you pulled to his body. Your back pressed to his chest. Eobard stirs just a little, burying his face into your shoulder. His fingers settle on your bare stomach and you giggle.

“I wasn’t aware that you were ticklish.”

Your eyes pop open at the foreign voice, and you spin around in a haste. Eobard straightens when he feels you move out of reach. His eyes open and you just stare.

“Y-You changed back..”

He’s not fully sure what you’re talking about, but he turns to the mirror. The blond hair has completely filled out his dark locks, light freckles on his face, green eyes. Eobard looks back with a soft groan.

“I suppose I’m me again."

Maybe the team would be less tense now there weren't two Harrison’s walking around. He looks back, but you’re still staring. You lick your lips. His body before was already fairly muscled, but his stature has changed. His shirt is partially straining against the width of his chest due to the transformation.

You find yourself reaching out, and you place your hand on his chest. It’s like you’re testing to see if he’s real. Eobard’s breath staggers just a little, because your hand begins moving lower, tracing every dip and ridge that is displayed through the thin piece of material. You flush when you feel the wind hit you, because now you’re on your back. Eobard settled between your thighs.

He pins your hands above your head.

“What did I say about being careless around me?”

You gulp.

“S-Sorry..”

He looks fairly annoyed. After a few intense seconds he releases you, climbing off the bed. You just lay there.

“I’m going to take a shower."

He speaks. The door to the bathroom closes behind him, and you press your fingers to your reddened cheeks.

“I’m screwed.”