#me when I say words and hope they make sense

[keferon]

Part 2 of Golem!Prowl AU!

_____________________

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Part 1. Next->

The fic under the cut⤵️

Orion looks...sick. Worried. Scared.

“Prowl, do you know what the Great Hunt is?”

Prowl tilts his head keeping up with the lists he received from the Council.

“Traditional raids on monsters made to consolidate control over the land holdings of regular Mechs.”

Orion rubs the bridge of his nose

“It's a massacre.”

Prowl twitches his wing.

“It is a measure of intimidation against creatures that cannot be negotiated with. Brutal, I don't deny that, but experience shows it works. The destructive activity of monsters lessens considerably if they know their actions can be followed by punishment.”

Orion stares at him. For a long time. Silently.

Tensely studying him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“You think killing them instead of finding a compromise is...right?”

Prowl thinks he must be treading on unstable ground.

“I think it works. That is all. Monsters do a lot of damage with their existence. They kill, destroy and pillage. If periodically reducing their numbers reduces their damage, it confirms the effectiveness of the strategy.”

“They just want to live. Primus' sake, they want to eat.”

Prowl sighs. More for appearances than for any real effect.

“I suppose I can't judge them for wanting to survive. It makes sense.”

Orion nods.

He looks oddly pensive.

“Ratchet keeps picking up wounded...” he stammers, apparently trying to find a suitable alternative to the word monster “...wounded beastformers. I've been to his house. It's generous, but I'm afraid of what will happen if he gets caught doing it.”

Prowl frowns

“He should have stopped.”

“You wouldn't understand.” sighs Orion ”Him. Shockwave. We want to help. To make things better. I don't need you to chide me for disobeying the rules, I need you to figure out how to change them. Ghosts and insecticons deserve freedom as much as we do.”

“But...”

Orion looks at him angrily.

“No. Whatever you're going to say in response to that. No. I know you're driven primarily by logic, but I need you to remember it well. All sentient beings deserve to live free. Do you understand? All of them. Period.”

Prowl rolls up the lists and interlocks his fingers in front of him. There are small scuffs on his thumbs and index fingers from constant writing. He occupies himself with running his fingers over them, feeling the difference in texture.

“Mech's freedom in such a case ends where someone else's hungry jaws begin. You can't expect monsters and Mechs to just coexist in peace if you give them freedom.”

“No” sighed Orion ”That's why I support Shockwave's idea with creating an academy for magically gifted Mechs. He's helping to show the world that so-called 'dark creatures' can be as civilized citizens as any Mech. He teaches them to find that compromise. We can't just expect centuries of hate and fear to be forgotten once the laws change. We must direct this process. To help the Mechs understand and accept each other. Guide them, you might say.”

Prowl feels a headache coming on, as it always does when Orion requires him to logically solve a problem the answer to which lies in the feelings rather than the intellect. He's not built for this. It irritates him.

Orion stops right in front of him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Tell me what you think of this. If...let's pretend for a second that my morality fiddles don't matter anymore. That the problem of Mechs and monsters coexisting is something you alone need to solve. And solve it in such a way that the outcome is optimal for us as a society. To maximize the number of happy citizens. What would you do?”

Prowl is silent for a moment.

Orion squeezes his shoulder lightly before continuing.

“'Free from my judgmental conclusions, Prowl. From the standpoint of pure logic. What should we do?”

What to do...Prowl's thought process finally finds a direct and understandable train of thought. Monsters make up a paltry few percent of the population of all living Mechs. The numbers fluctuate depending on which region is being considered of course.

In some cities, some types of monsters are considered just fancy Mechs. Some monsters have risen from the status of savages to being respectable Mechs over the course of history. Even Orion's best friend, Shockwave, could be regarded as a mystical creature in some regions due to his gift of flight.

Nevertheless. The percentage is still minuscule.

But even that tiny percentage takes a significant toll on the economy and quality of life, because just one uncontrollable creature can terrorize an entire city.

He notes the weight of Orion's hand on his shoulder. Not judgmental. Orion promised he wouldn't judge.

“I'd get rid of the monsters.”

“Oh” Orion blinks ”Locked them in cages? Chased them away? Killed them?”

Prowl twitches his wings

“Banishment will only move the problem in terms of space, and imprisonment isn't secure enough. It would make sense to get rid of the monsters. Once and for all. It wouldn't be pretty or merciful, but it would greatly improve life for everyone, at the cost of a tiny percentage of living beings who were already of no use.”

“And you believe that would be a good outcome?”

“I believe it would.”

“But you're not a Mech yourself.” Orion reminds “Would you be willing to be exterminated along with the rest of the creatures if your plan were put into action?”

Prowl tilts his head slightly. Just to make it easier to look at Orion.

“You created me to, as you put it, help you make the world a better place. Sometimes in order to improve something you have to cut out the factors that get in the way. It's simple logic.”

“You didn't answer my question” Orion points out ”How would you feel if I decided to take your advice and destroy all mystical creatures, including you?”

“I am not made to feel” straightens Prowl ”My job is to find solutions to problems. I gave you a solution.”

“You don't include yourself in the reckoning.” snorts Orion “Again. You talk as if you will never be affected by anything.”

As it should be, Prowl thinks. He's a conscientious worker and a ..seemingly law-abiding citizen. He does what he can to make Mech's lives better. Even though he may not be a Mech, he's doing the right thing. Why would something happen to him?

Orion removes his hand from his shoulder and shakes his head.

“'Alright. I've heard you. But I want to make it as clear as possible - what you suggested is immoral, cruel, and should never be implemented. Do you understand me? Never. If you want to build a better world, you cannot and will not build it on other people's deaths. Have I made myself clear enough?”

“Perfectly clear.”

“Good.”

-----------------

Ratchet looks...many words could be used to describe him.

He's standing in the center of the trial room with a lot of emotions written all over his face. But if Prowl had to describe - he'd say Ratchet practically radiates rage. Not violent. More of a powerless one.

The rage of a Mech who knows he's cornered, but refuses to even consider giving up and admitting defeat.

Prowl sits in a far dark corner, silently documenting the whole process.

The council is furious. They apparently discovered that Ratchet has been dragging wounded monsters to his house and healing them all this time.

Which is ... very much as expected from Ratchet.

Prowl wants Orion here, but both Orion and Shockwave are now on a diplomatic mission a few days away, so the only support Ratchet has is...Prowl. Who can't help in any way, so he just sits there and meticulously documents the whole process so that Orion can then be informed of every single detail.

The council doesn't look happy. They say that Ratchet is sabotaging the hunters' efforts to contain the monsters by his actions.They are angered by Ratchet's absolute determination to insist that he was doing the right thing.

Prowl would be impressed, if only Ratchet's stubbornness made sense.

It's simple math. Ratchet saves lives. Monsters take them.

Thus Ratchet's life has much, much more weight and is more valuable.

If Ratchet would just accept the Council's decision now and promise to stop curing monsters, the whole problem would be solved as efficiently as possible.

But Ratchet, of course, persists. Probably just because that's his nature.

Ratchet can also afford to be so stubborn because his skill level makes him incredibly valuable to the Council. Prowl knows for a fact that if any other medic were in Ratchet's shoes right now - they would have been sentenced to banishment or execution by now.

When Ratchet realizes exactly how the Council caught him, his rage is instantly replaced by shock.

This revelation is enough to startle him and make him back down. To nod and numbly swear that he will end his "blasphemous hobby."

Prowl carefully folds the scribbled scrolls into the case as the Council doors close behind both his and Ratchet's backs.

“Orion will be happy to know that you were prudent enough to avoid death.”

Ratchet shifts his gaze to him

“You knew? Knew they could see through our optics? Did you know they could find out anything about any Mech at any time?”

Prowl tucks his hands behind his back and nods politely

“Knowing things is my job.”

Ratchet sighs. Heavy. Exhausted. Doomed maybe.

“How does Orion deal with it...”

“Orion has a reputation with the Council. They consider him a decent, law-abiding Mech, so they see no point in keeping tabs on him.”

“Are you kidding?” Raetchet raises his eyebrows “Orion can't do everything he does and remain ‘decent’ in their eyes. He and Shockwave practically cuddle with every possible creature every day and all they get is a little reprimand????”

Prowl tilts his head

“Orion learned to look away in time. And he has me for everything else.”

Ratchet doesn't answer him. He rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly and starts to walk away.

His shoulders look oddly tense. He looks defeated, but not in the way a Mech would describe a slain turbofox. No. There is a deep-seated, angry determination.

A willingness to act dictated by desperation.

The news of the surveillance has thrown Ratchet off balance but not knocked him off his feet as the Council had hoped.

Prowl looks at his back and walks off in the opposite direction. The problems of living, feeling Mechs have always been and will always be mysterious to him.

Ratchet does what no one expects him to do.

He doesn't stage protests. He doesn't accept the verdict.

He leaves silently, taking with him only medical supplies and an old lantern.

The council is furious, turning over every stone in an attempt to find him, but all in vain.

Prowl's daily duties now include “keeping track of any possible news related to Ratchet.“

And then, no matter what he finds, report to Orion that he's found nothing.

Put on a little regular show for all concerned. Show the Mechs in the Council that Orion remains loyal and does his best to find and bring to justice any blasphemer whether it's a friend of his or not.

He is his purpose. But the more time passes, the harder it becomes for him to trace the path to the fulfillment of that purpose. He envies the golems whose only function is to scrub floors. Their lives are understandable. A clean floor is a temporary but easily attainable goal. They are happy to fulfill the goal for which they were created. And then they're happy knowing their job is done well, until the floor gets dirty again.

Prowl is walking towards his goal, but it's not getting any closer. He knows what he needs to do to get there, but the variables are constantly changing and he has to adjust his course of action each time according to new information, conditions, and Orion's opinion on them.

Politics is infinitely more complicated than mopping floors after all.

————————————

Orion doesn't turn around on him as they walk down the hall. But Prowl can physically feel the attention focused on him.

“Prowl. Did you know I was awarded today for my ''outstanding service'' by the entire Council?”

“I did not.

“They've gone through all the reports and discovered that according to the logs me and my mechs are performing excellently when it comes to eliminating mystical threats.”

“Congratulations.”

“It's funny that you feel the need to congratulate me too” Orion continues ”Because I certainly didn't give orders to eliminate anyone.”

Their pacing doesn't falter. They continue to walk calmly down the hallway as if nothing is happening. But Prowl can practically taste the increased tension.

“Prowl” says Orion “Why is the Council rewarding me for murder? And where are the Mechs they think I killed now?”

Prowl checks the scrolls. Not because he doesn't remember. Just to buy some time to formulate an answer.

“They were the inevitable casualties. I took charge of their destruction. On your behalf.”

“You know how I feel about killing.”

“I know.” nods Prowl for some reason. Why? Not that Orion can see it “I also know how the Council feels about Mechs showing suspicious activity. They would have started watching you as soon as they noticed you were letting monsters slip away from you suspiciously often.”

Orion...sounds... conflicted. He sounds struggling.

“You killed them.”

“I gave the order. As any other hunter would have done in my place.”

Orion stops so abruptly that Prowl doesn't catch the moment and bumps into his back.

“We're supposed to be better than other hunters Prowl! How can you still not grasp that concept!!!”

Orion looks furious. Prowl discreetly looks around.

Around them is a relatively empty hall. Windows covered by heavy curtains. The cleaning golems scurrying back and forth.

“I understand” he says “But let me remind you that you cannot test their trust infinitely. Your 'being better' rests on your reputation. And it's my job to make sure your reputation lives up to it.”

Orion looks at him...Prowl isn't even sure how to describe it. Usually he has to argue with Orion's logic, proving his point but this time...Orion is the one arguing with him.

It feels strange. Uncomfortable.

He's doing everything Orion wanted him to do, but for the sake of it he has to do something Orion can't stand.

Orion clenches and unclenches his fists helplessly. Rubbing the fabric of his cloak.

“Shockwave can save lives without killing anyone.”

“Shockwave is one unfortunate act away from serious consequences” shakes his head Prowl “His academy is looking more and more like his own small army every day. His students are not loyal to the Council, they are loyal to Shockwave. And the Council knows that. And will use it. And it won't be pretty when it happens.”

“No...” shakes his head Orion, not addressing anyone in particular ”No no no no no...”

Prowl can understand why Orion is upset. But he also knows he's right this time. Shockwave may look like a fine example of mercy, but he walks on the very edge of the law and any wrong move will instantly turn him from “out of the box thinker” to renegade.

The Council will come for his head and the Council will get his head because Shockwave will have nothing to prove his loyalty with.

Orion will. Prowl made sure of that.

Orion can bend the rules, can borrow the Council's trust, can do all sorts of reprehensible things. He can stumble and fall and then fall a couple more times and find that it doesn't hurt him because Prowl caught him even before he stumbled.

He did it at the cost of lives. Yes.

But Orion's life is far more valuable than the lives of monsters.

Society doesn't need monsters to become better, but society needs Orion. Monsters need Orion. Because if Orion is gone, no one else will care about his idealistic goal.

“Sometimes I forget how creepy you can be...” mutters Orion ”You're going to betray me sooner or later.”

“I could never betray you.” Prowl twitches his wing.

“You've successfully betrayed what I believe in.”

“It's fine with me if you hate me for it. As long as you are alive, safe, and can continue your quest.”

Orion falls silent.

He turns away to stare at a strip of light from a nearby window. There are beautiful, wrought iron grates that cast an intricate, curved shadow on the floor and walls.

A golem janitor hurries past them.

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Shockwave falls.

Prowl isn't there to see for himself, but a lot of rumors reach him. Lots. Lots of rumors.

The Mechs say the time of the Great Hunt has come.

They say that when the hunters arrived on the Academy's doorstep, Shockwave didn't let them in.

They say. He stood in front of the gates.

With sword in one hand and the Primus Covenant in the other, and declared that his school was a sanctuary for all living beings in need of protection.

Claimed that anyone who dared set foot inside with a weapon would have to go through him.

“And they retreated!” gestures Orion frantically ”They didn't dare test him! They backed away from the walls of the Academy. I don't know how many monsters were left alive in the forests that night, but none of Shockwave's students were harmed...”

Prowl listens with a healthy dose of wariness

“The Council wouldn't just let him do that.”

Orion begins nervously winding circles around the room.

“You're right, you're right. You're right now and you were right back then. They're going to bring him before the Court by tomorrow, and...”

“There's no chance of that ending well,...is there?" Prowl finishes his thought.

Orion looks pained

“They'll be going through everything he's been up to. Every forged document, every enrolled Mech who by all criteria should be considered a monster. Every time he sheltered them from the Council instead of destroying them. They'll realize what he's been doing and they won't like it at all.”

Prowl...trying to sound reassuring.

“Shockwave has tremendous support from his Academy. There's a chance the Council will be afraid of invoking their wrath and won't judge Shockwave too harshly.”

Orion continues to walk in circles

“You think so?”

“There is a good chance.”

Prowl finds Orion in Sickbay. Which is very disturbing and wrong, because Orion was supposed to be at the Trial. Supporting Shockwave and begging the Council to relent.

But Orion is in Sick Bay. When he shouldn't be.

And he's covered in ugly dark burns. From something Prowl can't recognize.

This is all wrong. It's all--

“What happened at the trial?”

Orion sounds. Startled.

“There was no Trial.”

“What?”

Orion sounds as if something inside him has cracked. In every sense of the phrase.

“The Trial hasn't even had time to begin. He...” Orion clutches his trembling fingers, hoping to still them, but it has no tangible effect. His shoulders are trembling.

He looks like his whole body could be torn apart with one careless touch. “They asked him if he would plead guilty to aiding and abetting dark creatures. All they had time to ask was if he realized he was wrong.”

An uncomfortable, prickly feeling settles in Prowl's mind.

"And?”

Orion squeezes his fingers so hard the creaking of hinges becomes audible.

“It...I...Prowl, his very spark began to ooze dark magic. It was horrible, it was like.. it was eating him from the inside. The entire courtroom became darker than night, many Mechs got burned. I've never seen anything like this before! He..It.. started attacking Mechs and destroying everything...it was like it went crazy...it attacked me and I had to...Prowl I had to fight it! I didn't...I'd heard about it happening but I believed until the last minute that I wouldn't have to face it...”

Gears of chaotic detail fall into place in Prowl's mind.

“Shockwave...turned into a demon...?”

Orion nods shakily

“The Council didn't even have a chance to sentence him or spare him or even sort out what happened.....

He stated that he did not consider himself guilty for what he had done and...Primus was the one who made the judgment before anyone else could...”

That's... terrifying really. For a number of reasons. Losing a close friend is awful, being subjected to such merciless punishment is awful, but also...

What sends a chill down Prowl's back is the moral implication that such punishment carries.

Orion, as if reading his thoughts, raises his gaze to him

“Is what we are doing...wrong? I don't...does Primus think helping monsters is worthy of punishment?”

Now that's a really reasonable question.

Shockwave would say that Primus is merciful and would never condemn a Mech for an act of kindness. But Shockwave ended up being condemned.

Ratchet would say that he doesn't care about Primus' opinion because Primus isn't real. But Ratchet isn't here.

Prowl wants to say that it doesn't matter whether or not Primus thinks they're wrong, what matters is that he can at any moment force his justice on any living spark, so his concept of right has to become Orion's too, or else he's doomed. But Orion is definitely in no state to have a philosophical argument. He looks shattered and Prowl almost instinctively is about to go and find Shockwave, but remembers that option is no longer available.

He's not made for this. Shockwave has always been the one to cheer Orion up on a bad day. Not Prowl, no. Prowl isn't sure what to do so he just sits down next to him and gently places a hand on Orion's shoulder. The one where he can't see the burns, so it shouldn't hurt.

“I don't. I'm used to always relying on your point of view as a reference for what's right and what's wrong.”

“I know” runs a shaky hand over his face Orion “But it's not like I'm perfect. I try, god, I try but just like with the logical part - my vision isn't flawless. Have I been...wrong all this time? Trying to disrupt Primus' intended vision? Maybe what I've been trying to fix never needed fixing. Maybe it's just me being so stupid and not understanding things maybe...???”

Orion cuts himself off mid sentence, realizing that he's started raising his voice and waving his arms around again. He sits back down on the medical bed and curls back up into a miserable ball.

“What should I do....”

“I don't know,” Prowl repeats awkwardly.

He is his goal. But his goal ..doesn't exist anymore?

He doesn't know where to put himself.

Golems are made to fulfill requests. But Orion's request system has been evolving and complicating for so long that Prowl can't tell where its boundaries are anymore.

He feels lost.

——————————

Orion stops cold.

“What...”

Prowl, standing at his right hand looks equally puzzled.

They are in a spacious courtyard bordering directly on the Council building. It's a very beautiful, open and spacious place because it was originally built with large crowds of Mechs in mind. There's wide walkways, a massive circular plaza with fountains and statues.

And right now, it's filled to the brim with Mechs, most of whom Prowl is seeing for the first time. They're all wearing knight armor and carrying weapons, however still kept in their scabbards.

They look like a small army. A very, very diverse army, Prowl realizes. Because there are almost no regular Mechs among them.

Orion looks... distraught.

Mechs? Monsters? A few knights separate and come closer, bowing their heads respectfully.

“Orion Pax.”

There is so much grief and disbelief in Orion's eyes that it physically hurts to look at him.

When he begins to speak his voice sounds hoarse, like someone has poured sand down his throat.

“What...what are you doing here...?”

The knight standing in front of everyone ceremoniously places his palm on his spark.

“We are here to fulfill the last will of our mentor and your friend. Shockwave has decreed in his last will that in the event of his death his legacy must pass to you and those of us who wish to carry on his work must publicly pledge our allegiance to your will.”

Orion clutches his hands together to keep them from starting to shake again.

“But...I was there. I...your mentor was slain by my hands...how can you..."

"It doesn't matter. Everything that was his is now yours." smiles the knight sadly "We will make sure his legacy lives on. And even if the Academy falls - you can always count on us."

At the same time as he finishes speaking, the knight in blue armor drops to one knee, pulling Shockwave's sword from its sheath and holding it out respectfully to Orion... who looks like he's about to start crying.

He dazedly accepts the sword, twitching in surprise when it turns out to be heavier than expected and probably tries to say something, but all that comes out is a short sorrowful sigh.

He just.

Clutches the sword to his chest, watching in disbelief as all the arriving mechs get down on one knee following the blue knight. There aren't that many mechs, but at this point - they seem to rival the sea.

Prowl knows some of them. Many of them made their way to Shockwave after Orion found them. There's the harpy over there who nearly ripped Orion's head off the first time they met. A few ghosts he can remember the faces of but doesn't know the names. He'd had a long argument with Orion that day, trying to convince him that he shouldn't take their word for it when they promised to make it up to him.

And now they're all here. In beautiful new armor. Executing their mentor's last will and testament.

Just like regular Mechs, only a little eccentric looking.

The crowd of hunters that has come to find out what's going on looks as speechless and dumbfounded as Orion.

" What" Orion also gets down on one knee to be on the same level as the knight "what's your name?"

Prowl squints warily from behind Orion's shoulder. The blue mech looks normal, but to be honest, there's no way someone coming out of the Shockwave Academy is going to be an normal plain mech. There has to be a catch somewhere.

"My name is Skids," smiles the knight shyly. "I am...was...Shockwave's best student."

"You are very brave Skids" smiles Orion sorrowfully "I promise to do my best to take care of Shockwave's legacy. And you."

Orion drops his head on the table tiredly.

"This is crazy..."

Prowl pulls an important document from under Orion's head

"It's also quite devious. Shockwave told them specifically to swear to you where all comers can see it. So there's no way for the Council to accuse you of purposely swaying an army of monsters to your side. Everyone saw that this gift was given by force. Now you have many allies with unique skills who are loyal to you and the Council won't try to take them away because they are firmly convinced that you are loyal to the Council."

Prowl examines the document for damage before setting it aside.

"It is..."

"Shockwave gave you an opportunity."

"And I don't know what to do with it!" raises his head Orion "Shockwave was smarter than me and made a lot of plans in case of...I don't know...anything?? I didn't...Prowl. We've been down this path for so long and I was always sure there would be something good at the end of it. Or at least better than it is now..."

Orion rubs his chin and shakes his head awkwardly

"...But if there's only the wrath of Primus and endless darkness at the end...I can't ask anyone to follow me there. I'm not sure if I can keep going myself..."

He sighs helplessly

"I'm not even sure if that even matters."

"The chance that Shockwave would try to use you in some way was about twenty-eight percent."

Orion twitches

"What?"

"I understand that you're hurt by his...fate." Says Prowl "But have you considered the possibility that Shockwave was being punished for betraying you rather than the Council?"

Orion doesn't even answer at first. Just looks at him dazed and bitter.

"Prowl...no. He couldn't have."

"I'm just speculating" shrugs Prowl "Shockwave was punished but as far as I know God didn't bother to name the exact charge. We don't know one hundred percent what exactly caused his...sentence. He may have betrayed the Council's ideas, or he may have betrayed yours."

They both just exist in silence for a while. Processing the information.

"If...and I mean if!!! If Shockwave was convicted of harboring monsters, then everything we've been doing all this time can be considered useless blasphemy..." says Orion slowly "...but if he was punished for something else..."

"...then that would mean there's nothing wrong with your idea." finishes Prowl.

Orion frowns

"It would also mean that Shockwave lied to me..."

Prowl nods. The situation is ugly no matter which way you look at it.

Shockwave, as Prowl knows him, would hardly have framed Orion, but Mechs tend to go to great lengths to avoid execution.

If Shockwave had shifted some of the blame to Orion then, it would have partially saved him. Was that what he was going to do? Was this what Primus had stopped him from doing?

Orion's finials twitch slowly

"I don't know Prowl. I don't know what to do. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of my fantasies."

Orion is hard to read, but right now he's an open book.

Prowl tilts his head

"You're scared."

Orion looks. Defeated. Crumpled.

Discolored.

" I am."

Prowl can't work with that. He's used to solving logical problems and making lists and strategies.

He doesn't know how to get someone to stop being scared.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I don't know." mutters Orion "I don't know, I have no idea. It's too much...All these new knights, this whole council situation and now you're also saying that the mech I treasured the most could actually be a liar and...just leave me alone."

"But..."

"Just go away!" shakes his head Orion "Go find something else to do, find a hobby, I don't know! Get out of my head and out of my personal life!"

Prowl nods silently.

Places a couple papers in their places and silently walks out the door.

Gestures a greeting to some mech passing by.

And is completely unsure of what to do with himself.

Orion's too stunned by everything that's happened to give him a clear purpose. And without a purpose, he...he's gone.

He continues to stand by the closed door.

A thought runs obsessively through his mind.

If Shockwave was sentenced for something no one knew about, then punishing him the moment of that trial was a truly terrible decision and even worse timing.

But if Shockwave was sentenced for helping monsters...Prowl isn't sure why his mind resists the idea.

Maybe he's not being objective because he shares Orion's views and aspirations.

Maybe because he has looked at the entire square filled with dangerous monsters and has seen nothing but sorrow and respect in them.

The idea comes naturally.

Then God must be wrong.

He looks at the cleaning golems again. He envies them.

They are peace and contentment.

They are a clear and simple goal.

Probably the biggest stress that happens to them is random mechs passing by and interfering with their cleaning.

And then there's Prowl, standing by with no meaning or purpose and wishing he could throw something heavy because the one who gets in his way is an indefinable force of nature and a complex system of values and beliefs created by millions of years of cultural development....

But Primus can't stop him, can he?

Prowl is not alive. He has no emotion so that his intentions can be categorized as evil, but more importantly he has no spark so that its magic can turn him into a demon.

He is his purpose. His purpose is his god. And Primus stands in his way.

He turns around and walks away.

[spideyjimin]

Bloodlines entwined: IV | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 10,073

—  warnings: sexual tension, some nervousness, strong language, mention of sex, mention of breakup, mention of pain, crying, teasing, pain, screaming, some panicking, and nudity

—  author’s note: this is for now my absolute favorite chapter of this series. so many things happen & it’s a very vulnerable one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter 🤗 let me know what you think and thanks from the bottom of my heart for the love shown to this series ❤️

Chapter IV: standing next to you

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Jungkook is patiently waiting for you at the fertility clinic’s entrance.

Today is a special day.

It’s the first day you’ll meet your little baby. However, it’s also a bit of a terrifying day because there’s a possibility that there’s something wrong with the baby.

The werewolf king hasn’t slept at all, too worried about today. Yesterday, you told him about this appointment, and he asked if he could come. How could you say ‘no’ to him? He desires so much to be involved, you can see it in his eyes.

Now that you’re both on the same page about the baby, it feels like you’re on cloud nine. You’re both going to have a child, except it’s definitely not going to be as planned. You were both planning on being alone, but you have each other now.

Jungkook senses you arriving in your car, his eyes completely drawn to you. Feeling your presence from far away is something very new to him; he never experienced it with anybody else. Not even with Yuna. He keeps wondering if it’s because you’re carrying his child, but that doesn’t seem to make any sense.

His entire being is always captivated by you. Whenever you’re around, you’re the only thing that truly matters. There’s something so different about you that he can’t quite explain. Being with you makes him feel good.

As you step out of your car, his eyes lock onto you, completely captivated by your beauty. You’re dressed in sleek black trousers and a white shirt that hints at your cleavage, an effortless yet striking combination. His gaze follows your every move as you open the passenger door to retrieve your long black coat and purse.   

The man swallows with difficulty. He finds you extremely beautiful, he’d even say that he has never laid his eyes on someone this pretty. Yuna can’t even compare next to you. And what makes you even prettier is the little life you’re carrying inside you. You’re the mother to his child which is quite a big deal though.

When you notice him, a bright smile appears on your face. His beauty is quite striking, and you wonder how you’ll be able to live a life with such a handsome man. You hope that the baby will take his good looks, because damn, Jungkook is alluring.

His outfit is a bit more casual than yesterday’s, but it’s still more formal than when meeting him at the town square. He’s dressed in blue skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a checked suit jacket. It’s simple, but definitely a great look.

Once you’ve reached him, you actually don’t really know what to do. Do you simply stay in front of him? Or do you kiss on the cheek? Or do you shake his hand?

“A simple kiss on the cheek is enough.”

Jungkook didn’t move his lips at all although you’ve heard him loud and clear in your head.

“Did you say something?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head.

That’s weird.

However, you decide to follow the voice in you heard—that probably was a hallucination. You get closer to him before pressing a gentle kiss on his squishy cheek. Both of your hearts start beating at the same rapid rhythm. For a moment, Jungkook notices how in synch your hearts are beating, but he doesn’t really give too much credit to it.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you say after the kiss.

“Hi, yn,” he takes a step back to look at you. “Ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” the brightest smile appears on your face.

The two of you head inside the clinic while casually talking about how you’re feeling about this appointment. By the looks of it, Jungkook is more nervous than you. You’re actually not really worried as you constantly hear your child’s heartbeat that grows stronger every day. The only concern there might be is if the baby has any malformation, but even like that, you feel that deep down, you know the baby is just fine.

The doctor—who gave you the extremely bad news of the sample mix-up a month ago—makes her way inside the room after you both got inside. She clearly doesn’t know how to act in front of you, but you decide to smile to put her at ease. On the other side, Jungkook seems closed off, he almost looks pissed.

“Hi Miss y/l/n and Mister Jeon,” she offers you both a smile while she invites you to take a seat.

The two of you sit down before she does the same. Jungkook clearly doesn’t look happy; he seems to still resent her for the mistake made.

“How have you been feeling?” she asks with concern.

“I’m actually doing great,” you inform her.

You look at your right to Jungkook, trying to check his reaction. His dark and intense eyes are fixed on the doctor, leaving you wondering if he’s planning on answering or if he’ll just keep looking at her like he’s about to kill her. By the way his jaw clenches, you assume he’ll ignore her. But, to your surprise, he breaks the tension with a sharp answer.

“Could be better,” he coldly says.

The sharpness in his tone makes you blink. “You could be nicer to her,” those are the words you’d definitely like to say to him, but you resist the urge to call him out. Jungkook turns to you abruptly, his expression unreadable, as always.

“What?” Jungkook asks, his brows furrowing. Your eyes widen as you realize what just happened. He heard you.

 “This woman gave me a hundred heart attacks,” he continues. “No way, I’ll be nice to her.”    

You stare at each other in silence, your hearts beating rapidly. None of you has moved your lips, but you’ve been mentally talking. This is too wild for you. Jungkook doesn’t understand how on earth that is possible, and you believe that it’s one of those werewolf abilities you’re still discovering.

“Again, I’d like to apologize again for this mistake,” she clears her throat, pulling both of you back into the room. “The costs have been fully refunded to you this week. In principle, you should have already received the reimbursement by now.”

You nod as you remember seeing your bank account increase a lot after receiving the money. It’s honestly so weird to have so much right now, but you’ll transfer most of it to your investment and spare accounts. There’s no way you’ll leave your money to lose value.

While the refund doesn’t erase the mistake, it’s a reminder of how messy this whole situation has been.

“Before we proceed with the ultrasound,” the doctor continues. “I’d like to confirm with you if you’ve made a decision about the pregnancy,” she says.

Jungkook’s unreadable and mysterious face sends shivers down your spine. The energy he radiates is heavier and darker, and you feel the storm growing inside him. He seems to have become a totally different person since entering the room. You know he’s furious at the clinic for their huge mistake, and you understand why. But now, you’ve both decided to keep the baby so in the end, it’s all good.

But still, you need him here, not lost in his anger.

 “Yes,” you gently say, offering a small smile before your gaze moves back to the man sitting next to you. “We’ve decided to proceed with the pregnancy.”

“Okay, perfect then!” she seems to relax now.

You can see that he’s holding back, you can sense his anger, but you don’t want to see him like this. You’re about to meet your baby. You place your hand on top of his to gently squeeze it, your thumb tracing soothing circles over his skin.

You instantly see his stiff shoulder relax slightly, and you can sense the heat of his anger vanishing, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. You hold onto his hand, willing him to stay calm. He remains quiet, though you can feel him shimmering under the surface. The doctor stands up and gestures toward the next room.

“We can go then do the ultrasound,” she stands up. “How would you like to proceed?”

You’re both confused about her question, not really understanding what she means.

“What do you mean?” you ask, glancing between her and Jungkook.

“This is a pelvic ultrasound,” she explains. “The baby is very small, so we can’t use the standard method.”

“Oh,” you both respond at the same time, the realization dawning on you.

“I’ll leave you then alone,” Jungkook instantly retorts while he shifts in his seat.  

“No,” you grab his arm before he can move, your eyes meeting his with determination. “This is your child too. You should be here for the first ultrasound.”

“If you’d prefer,” the doctor starts suggesting. “Mister Jeon can wait outside while you get settled. I’ll ensure your privacy is protected and call him to be next to you once you’re ready.”

You consider her words, appreciating the balance of practicality and respect. This approach seems reasonable, and it might ease Jungkook’s discomfort. You glance at him, silently asking for his agreement. After a moment, he nods.

“Fine,” his voice softens.

The doctor leads you to the room, and Jungkook’s hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before letting you go. Even though he’s not right next to you, you feel his steady presence, grounding you as you prepare to see your baby for this very first time.  

Once you’re in the other room, you remove your bottoms. The doctor gestures for you to lie down on the gynecological examination table and place your leg on the stirrups. This is such a vulnerable position, but you’ve been doing this a lot since you started this journey.

This is a room you’ve seen quite a lot, and it almost feels like a second house. The white sterile walls could make you feel uncomfortable, but the soft and calming lighting makes it feel like a warm room. It’s appeasing when you go through this entire process to procreate.

On your right, there is the ultrasound machine and a screen together with the material needed for the ultrasound like the gel. There is also the slim and long transvaginal ultrasound probe. It can look very scary, but it actually doesn’t hurt at all.    

“Perfect,” the doctor says once you’re perfectly situated. “I’ll put a little blanket on top to cover you,” she indicates.

You nod with a bit of nervousness. Knowing that Jungkook will see you in this open posture makes you feel a bit anxious. You’ve never come to any gynecologist appointment with any men, not even your exes. It would have felt weird, especially since you were more of a fuck girl. It’s weird to admit it but you’ve always been more comfortable in having sex with somebody than committing to them.

Obviously, you engaged in certain relationships, but it was mostly to try to fill the deep void inside you. There was one man, Elliott with whom you stayed for three years. He’s been the only man who felt right to fall in love with. He treated you right, loved you right, and made you feel right. However, your fear of losing someone special got the best of your relationship. 

This breakup knocked you down. You lost someone you deeply loved, just like you lost your parents. Since then, you haven’t engaged in anything with anybody. No dating and no sex. It’s been about focusing on yourself and understanding yourself better. And it’s been two years.

With this entire process of being a mother on your own, it didn’t feel like two years went by.  

The doctor leaves for a couple of seconds before reappearing with Jungkook. When your eyes meet, you can tell that this is a first time for him. His facial expression almost indicates some shock to see you in this position. It’s not really glamorous, but for now, that’s how you get to meet your little baby.

Jungkook stands at your left, his eyes going between you and the gynecologist material. A smile grows on your face while you watch him; he looks adorable.

The doctor takes the probe, covers it with a kind of long condom, and puts the gel on it. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he sees it, causing your smile to grow bigger. “Is it going to hurt?” he communicates through his thoughts.

“No, don’t worry,” you answer back before grabbing his hand to squeeze it.

It leaves you wondering how things would have gone if he had done this through surrogacy. Would he be present for the first ultrasound? It would be logical if he was because it is his child, but it would feel weird though. Well, this is probably he will never know since it isn’t about surrogacy anymore.

 “Can I?” the doctor asks with the long probe in her hands.

You simply nod, and she proceeds to insert it inside you.

“Just relax,” she tells you.

Jungkook avoids watching down by respect to you, but this is all surprising to him.

The coldness of the device catches you a bit off guard although you should have expected it to be this cool. By reflex, you squeeze Jungkook’s hand, and he obviously starts worrying. However, he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. Just like the doctor, he wants you to relax.

For a moment, you turn to glance at him. His soft expression calms you down, and right now, you wouldn’t want anyone else to be next to you. It’s weird to think that you like his presence around you when you embarked on this journey by yourself. He wasn’t supposed to be here with you. If the samples hadn’t been mixed up, you’d be here alone.

Suddenly, you can see the image on the monitor move. The doctor is looking for the tiny little piece of life inside you. Then, suddenly, a blurry figure appears, and the baby’s heartbeat breaks the silence of the room.

Even though you’ve been hearing their heartbeat since the first day, hearing it loud and clear makes it emotional. The baby is really alive. His tiny moving heart is clearly visible on the monitor. A little tear of joy streams down your face.

The second the heartbeat can be heard, Jungkook squeezes your hand. His baby—or should he say your baby—is thriving inside your belly. This makes it real; he’s about to become a father. A little Jeon is about to join the family, and that fills his heart with a pride he can’t explain.

The circumstances that created this tiny human—and wolf—aren’t the greatest. But this baby has been more than desired by his two parents. The two of you are exceptionally happy to finally see the baby.

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. It’s unique. It’s incredible. And it’s heartwarming.

The doctor is speaking in the background, but none of you seems to pay attention to her words. You’re solemnly focused on the tiny blurry figure on the screen. None of you speak; you simply embrace every emotion you feel, and your hands intertwined together. As you see the baby, you feel excited for the upcoming ultrasounds to see them slowly growing.

“All seems to be fine with the baby,” those words push you out of your reverie.

This is all that matters. If the baby is doing great, you don’t care about the rest. Life has been so chaotic lately, and this is the best news you ever got in the past few weeks.

“So, this was our last appointment together,” she explains while removing the probe. “From now on, you’ll have to be followed by your obstetrician. We will contact you throughout the pregnancy and after the birth to check up on you.”  

Jungkook is relieved that he won’t have to come back to this place. His eyes look down at your fingers entwined; you’re still holding onto each other. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, since the first second he saw you, he knows what you truly represent to him.

Since he met you, he’s been experiencing things he never did with anyone else. He’s been having such a strong connection with you. And now, you can even communicate through thoughts. That is a unique bond. A bond you only create with one person only. Your soulmate.

But that’s something Jungkook doesn’t want to admit or believe right now. There has been so much going on right now, and for sure, when everything will slow down, it will probably hit him in the face.

The father of your child leaves the room so you can get dressed. Once ready, you join him in the doctor’s office. He’s patiently waiting for you, and it truly warms your heart to see him here. You take a seat next to him while the doctor proceeds to explain certain things about what’s next with the pregnancy. She gives a bunch of advice which honestly seems to be helpful.

After fifteen minutes, you leave her office with Jungkook. It’s a weird feeling to know you’re never coming back here again. For a couple of months, you’d come quite often, but your project is finally taking place. You’re about to become a mother. A werewolf mother.

The two of you walk in complete silence until your car. You’re both still processing what you just saw and experienced. When you reach your car, you finally look up at him. He’s biting his lower lip, clearly lost in his thoughts.

“You’re okay?” you ask.

His eyes finally meet yours. There’s something in his gaze you’ve never quite seen before. You’re seeing a storm of emotions in them.

You see worry, the weight of responsibility already pressing heavily on his shoulders. You see vulnerability, something he rarely shows, he’s always composed under any circumstances. But beyond all that, there is something else. There’s awe, as though the ultrasound was a moment that truly humbled him. It’s as if he’s beginning to grasp the enormity of what’s happening, of the life growing inside you, and of the connection forming between the three of you.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “It’s just something special to see the little life forming inside you,” he admits.

“It is,” you offer him a little smile.

Jungkook looks so endearing right now, and you just want to hug him tight in your embrace.

“Tomorrow night is the full moon,” he then completely changes the conversation’s topic. “If you’re still okay with it, I’d like you to be at my place.”

This approaching full moon is making you nervous. It’s the first one you’ll experience as a pregnant lady, but it’s also probably going to be your first one where you’ll shift into a wolf shape. And that sounds pretty scary, especially since you’ve known about your werewolf heritage for like three days.

Jungkook takes a step closer, his hand delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear. This simple gesture sends shivers down your spine, and your heart suddenly beats faster. Your eyes get lost in his, and the world seems to fade away around you as his thumb lightly brushes against your cheek.  

Since he has appeared in your life, you’ve been going through lots of ups and downs. He has unveiled the werewolf world to you together with a part of yourself you never knew. It hasn’t been easy, but his presence feels grounding and reassuring. Deep down, you kind of feel that he’s never going to leave you. It’s an unspoken truth that you can’t explain, but somehow, you know.

His face moves dangerously closer to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin. Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. There is no doubt that he’s about to kiss you, and truthfully, there’s nothing else you want more. But a small voice in the back of your mind whispers caution.

Today, you’ve experienced a lot of emotion, especially since you got to see your baby for the first time. You don’t want this kiss to happen because of the intensity of the moment. You want this first kiss to happen because it’s right, because you both want it with absolute clarity, not as a reaction to the whirlwind of feelings you’re navigating.  

His nose brushes against yours, his warmth pulling you in, and your lips are a breath away from meeting when you step back. Jungkook blinks, surprised. His eyes search yours, and you can see confusion and even a touch of disappointment in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he’s definitely too surprised.

“I’ll be at your place tomorrow,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “Just send me the details.”

Before he can say anything, you jump in your car and slip away, your pulse still racing. As you’re driving, you try to steady your thoughts, pushing aside what almost happened. You’re not ready. Not just yet.

Following Jungkook’s address, your car slows down as you approach an imposing set of gates. Massive iron bars stand tall against the backdrop of the dense woods surrounding the estate, their presence as commanding as the man you’re here to meet.

You stop and glance around from your windshield before you leave the car. Beyond the gates, the large trees hide the driveway and the house. Your imagination starts to fill in the blanks. He’s the king, after all. His home must be grand, maybe even overwhelming.

On the wall beside the gate, a modern intercom system catches your eye. A silver button gleams in the sunlight, its simple design contrasting with the timeless feel of the gates. Your hand hovers near the button as you still look around you. You feel so small, standing here at the threshold of Jungkook’s world; one you’re not entirely sure to belong yet.

Taking a deep breath, you press the button. Barely seconds later, a voice is heard through the intercom.

“Hello,” you don’t recognize the voice. “How can I help you?”

Well, as the king, it wouldn’t surprise you that he has people working for him. He couldn’t possibly take care of his house by himself.

“Hello, I’m yn,” you say. “I was invited by Jung… Mister Jeon,” you answer.

“Hello, miss y/l/n, we were waiting for you,” the voice says. “Please follow the road to the mansion.”  

The impressive gates move to let you enter Jungkook’s estate. You instantly jump back into your car before starting the engine. Very carefully and slowly, you drive through the road, your eyes wandering around you. This is definitely a very impressive state, and there’s absolutely no doubt that the father of your child is wealthy.

After a little while, a sprawling, stone-clad mansion with dark and earthy tones comes into view. The architecture is both ancient and timeless, with arches windows, and carved details that hint at its long history. You can’t believe this is where Jungkook lives, and it also leaves you wondering if this is where your child is going to grow up. Well, most probably yes.

An impressive courtyard suddenly appears, and it’s surrounded by well-manicured gardens that lead into the untamed wilderness of the forest. It’s simply incredible.

You don’t really know where to stop your car, but a man dressed in black clothing runs in your direction. In order to not make him run more, you halt and roll down the window. He’s out of breath when he reaches you.

“Miss y/l/n,” he manages to say, and you offer him a little smile. “Please follow me with your car to the parking spot.”

The man starts walking again, and this time you follow his direction. Everything about this seems unreal. A month ago, you totally ignored werewolves existed; you were planning everything to welcome a baby. And today, you’re here. You’re about to enter the mansion of the Werewolf King, and the father of your baby.

Seconds later, the man indicates where you can park. Once you stop the engine, the man opens the door for you. Wow, this is a first time, but you deeply appreciate it even though it wasn’t necessary.

“Thanks,” you say as you step out.  

“You’re welcome,” he bows. “Would you have any luggage with you?” he asks.

For a moment, you take a look at the man. This is definitely a footman, Jungkook’s personal footman. Honestly, this feels like being in one of those Christmas movies where a random girl meets a prince or king and they fall in love. However, in this case, you don’t fall in love and you share a kid.

“Yes,” you answer. “But don’t worry, I’ll take it.”

The man shakes his head. “I got personal orders from Mister Jeon to take care of it,” he says. “And I would also never leave a pregnant woman carry her luggage.”

Seems like you don’t have much to say here. He’s following his boss’ orders, and based on what you see, Jungkook won’t allow any rule to be unfollowed. And you’ll also feel guilty if anything happens to this man because of you.

“Okay,” you admit in defeat. “Then, let me just open the trunk.”

The man follows you and instantly grabs your small luggage when the trunk is opened. It’s honestly super weird, and if everything will be like this tonight, you’re not sure you’ll get used to it. For sure, Jungkook undoubtedly grew up in the middle of all this, but this is new to you.

“Please follow me,” he repeats.

Now that you’re closer to the mansion, you get to see every detail. The front features a massive, double-door entrance made of dark and polished wood, with ornate iron handles. There are also some stone statues around the façade, giving an air of mystery and foreboding.

Jungkook is standing in front of the door, with a little smile on his face. Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see him right here. You thought that his footman would guide you to a living room, or a study where his boss would be sitting and waiting for you.   

“Thanks, Jinwoo,” Jungkook says to his footman.

The man bows before entering the mansion with your luggage in your hand. As you stand before Jungkook, you realize now that he’s a king. It feels instinctual to bow. Kings are meant to be respected and acknowledged for their status. Your knees slightly bend, and your head dips forward, but before you fully bow, his voice cuts through your thoughts.

“No need,” he murmurs in your mind. “You don’t have to do it with me.”

His voice holds a quiet authority, but there’s also something else. Something unspoken, almost tender. For a moment, you hesitate. Bowing feels like the respectful, appropriate thing to do, but his response leaves you questioning the boundaries of his role in your life.

“Are you sure?”

His piercing and dark eyes meet yours, unwavering and resolute. “I am,” he answers, his tone leaving no room for argument even if he’s speaking through your mind.

The intensity of his gaze makes your breath hitch as if he’s reaching past your thoughts and speaking directly to the very core of you. And then, something changes in the air between you. It’s not just his words that stop you. It’s the way he’s looking at you. His expression is almost wounded.

Now, you wonder if you offended him, and the guilt begins to creep in. You’ve never met someone who held so much power yet dismissed the formalities that come with it.

For Jungkook, the title of king isn’t just about wearing a crown. It’s a mantle he bears with pride and responsibility. But when it comes to you, it’s as if he wants to strip away the formalities, the hierarchies, the distance. He doesn’t want you to see him as a king. He wants you to see him for who he truly is.

With you, everything is simply different. When you met him, you totally ignored that he was a king. Every time you met, you would treat him as anybody else, and honestly, it felt great. He wasn’t a king. He simply was Jungkook.  

“You’re different,” his voice softly brushes your mind again.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and the tension in your body slowly fades away. You try to let go of the urge to bow even though it feels weird. His strong presence almost commands reverence, but he made it clear: he doesn’t want that from you.

Jungkook gets closer, his hand brushing against your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Briefly, you close your eyes to savor the sweet contact of his skin against yours. This brings you back to yesterday when you were about to kiss. You regret how you walk away, especially since you desperately wanted to kiss him, but it’s better like this.

“Thank you,” you say as you open your eyes.

This sense of equality he’s extending to you warms your heart. Jungkook nods, his eyes softening before he takes a step back. This man is such a mystery, but it’s evident that he’s carrying so much on his shoulder. So much history, duty, and perhaps even loneliness that he tries to hide.

“Hi, yn,” he then says out loud as if you’re speaking for the first time.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you reply with a little smile growing on your face.   

“How was the road?” he gestures for you to come inside.

As the gentleman he has proven to be, he lets you walk inside his house first. You’re welcomed with a grand double staircase made of white marble, a marble that matches the floor beneath your feet. Along the walls of the stairs, there are hanging paintings of people. Probably Jungkook’s ancestors.

In the middle, a massive chandelier made of iron is hanging. The walls are impressively high, giving this space a grandiose aspect. This is for sure the kind of place you never thought of seeing in your life. Everything about this room screams ancient and power.

“The trip was fine,” you answer while your eyes get lost. “Although I thought at some point that I got lost,” you explain, your eyes now looking at the man behind you. “This is kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “As a werewolf king, it would be weird if I wasn’t surrounded by a forest.”

“It makes sense,” you admit. “But still, I was really about to call you with despair.”

Somehow, you can see in his eyes that he would have loved that. Saving the damsel in distress, but that’s not for you. There’s no need to save you, you can manage by yourself.

“You were about to call me?” he smirks with evident amusement in his voice. “I wouldn’t have minded. It’s not every day that I get to play the hero.”

You hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t get used to the idea. I can handle myself just fine,” you answer while crossing your arms with a small smile appearing on your face.

Jungkook tilts his head slightly while his smirk deepens. “Oh, I know,” his voice is softer now and his eyes are shining with admiration. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

At his words, you can feel the heat beneath your cheeks. You weren’t expecting him to compliment you while insinuating that he has a way too big estate, but you take the compliment.

Your child’s father proceeds then to make a little home tour. For sure, he doesn’t show you all the rooms as it is not needed. The first thing he shows you is the bedroom you’ll be staying in tonight. It’s located on the second floor, and the decoration is very simple. It’s a king-size bed with two nightstands and some furniture. Your luggage is already placed on a fancy bench.

A bit further on the second floor, there is the dining room. You’ll be eating here tonight before it gets dark. Apparently, it’s important to eat well and enough before taking a wolf shape. It helps to calm down the hunger, and it lowers the risk to kill someone or an animal.    

On the third floor, there is his magnificent bedroom. It’s extremely big, you’d say your entire apartment fits in the room. It’s also very well decorated; there are many pictures and paintings, and the room breaths ‘Jungkook’. However, the most impressive part is the large walk-in wardrobe. He has a remarkable quantity of clothes.

Then, he guides you outside to an outbuilding. It’s a very rustic, ancient, and a big one, but it looks cute even though it’s a bit far from the main house. However, what stands out more is the strong smell. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s something that definitely draws you.

“So, this place was built for the full moons,” he begins to explain. “This is where we shift, and it avoids destroying the prestigious house my ancestors built. It’s also closer to the woods.”

As you get closer, the scent grows stronger.

“My ancestors also placed something in the walls to attract us. When we shift the scent is even stronger than now, and it was made in case we get out of control. That way, we won’t be going to the main house. It was made to protect the humans living in our house,” you nod at his explanation.

Jungkook opens the door, letting you in first. There’s absolutely nothing in this room, except for a fridge.

“I don’t really use this room anymore,” he explains.

“Do you completely control your transformation?” you ask.

“Yep, that’s the perk of being an Alpha and a King,” he explains. “I’m not influenced by the moon’s phases anymore, but I’ll be with you tonight.”

“And for normal werewolves, at what moment of the full moon do they start changing?” you ask with curiosity.

You need to mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming, there are so many unknowns. For sure, Jungkook will guide you every step of the way tonight, but you still want to know what is going to happen.

“As soon as the sun is down,” he says.

“Okay,” you reply.

For a moment, you just look at this empty room, your heart beating crazily in your chest. Seeing this makes you realize that maybe tonight, you’ll shift into a wolf. It’s a reminder of the heritage your parents hid from you all these years. Not only is this extremely scary, but it’s even more because you’ll have to do it without your parents; the people you loved the most.

“I’m scared, Jungkook,” you turn around to look at him. “So so scared,” you admit.

Jungkook comes closer, his right hand grabbing your left one. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, trying to comfort you as much as possible.

“I understand,” his voice is soft. “This is all new to you, and you’re pushed right through the possibility of shifting into a wolf. I’m sorry this is all happening to you, and I wish things were different.”

He pauses for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours. “No matter what happens, I’ll be right here, standing next to you.”

You squeeze his hand while you whisper, “Thank you.” His support undeniably means a lot to you, you’re not sure you’d be able to go through this without him.

“If I could, I’d take your place in a heartbeat,” he continues. “I’d take all the pain and carry this burden if it meant you didn’t have to suffer. I wouldn’t hesitate, not even for a second.”

Without any hesitation, you throw yourself into his arms to hug him. Pressing a cheek against his chest, you close your eyes. His warmth seems to melt away all the tension in your body. Jungkook has been giving you the comfort of knowing that you don’t have to face everything alone. He’s taken a bit aback, but he wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tight against him.

His lips press a gentle kiss on your head while you remain in this position for a little while. His heartbeat appeases your soul, and it’s the only sound that you hear. In the midst of all this chaos, you’re grateful you found Jungkook.

After dinner, with Jungkook, you go to the outbuilding. But before doing so, he hands you a ‘special’ outfit. It looks like a sporty outfit; it’s made of a black top with black leggings. However, it’s made of a very stretchy fabric.

Jungkook explained that his family developed an outfit capable of resisting the transformation some years ago. Instead of getting ripped off, the fabric detaches when you shift. Once you get back to your human form, you can easily put it back. Apparently, there are magnets inside.

It’s honestly impressive, but, at the same time, not surprising. It’s the royal family that we’re talking about. They have the means to create something like that.

Jungkook’s a big fan of this fabric; all his clothes are made of it. Since he’s not influenced by the moon, he needs adaptive clothes for whenever he wants or needs to turn into a wolf. He also mentioned that it’s very comfortable, which definitely is the case.

“This is impressive,” you say as you’re walking.

The man walking next to you is wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with baggy grey pants. He looks incredibly fine, but you try to avoid looking at him. You don’t want to seem like you’re obsessed with him when you’ve known him for like a month.

“Yep, it is,” he smiles at you.

Jungkook is unable to look away, you look like a damn walking meal. He’s very much aware that he’s attracted to you, otherwise, he wouldn’t have tried to kiss you the other day. But the damn full moon always intensifies any physical attraction. His eyes even still glance at your fine ass. Thankfully, you don’t notice anything.

Once you reach the outbuilding, you put down all the things you brought with you. There are some snacks, two blankets, and extra clothing in case something happens. Jungkook doesn’t fully close the door behind you because if he does so, you’ll be stuck here and might destroy everything.

Since the sun hasn’t fully set yet, you sit down on the floor with Jungkook.

“How was your first transformation?” you ask with curiosity.

“It wasn’t great,” he admits. “It was the day after I turned ten, and I didn’t want to shift. And believe me, resisting it is painful as hell,” he confesses. “On top of that, I was really angry so when I became a wolf, I was out of control. My father didn’t manage to catch me up when I was out in the woods, but he found me when I turned back to human. I was crying like a baby, and I couldn’t remember a damn thing. My father later found out that I had attacked somebody, but thankfully, nothing too bad.”

This doesn’t really reassure you. If Jungkook didn’t have a great first experience, how would be yours? Will you kill someone? Will you also lose control? Also, you’re pregnant so it might be even worse.

“Being a wolf is something I didn’t embrace for a long time, especially since I knew I would eventually become a king,” he confesses. “So for a solid two years, every full moon was extremely painful. Once I accepted it, everything became easier, but I was very young.”

“So our child will also have their first transformation at ten?” you ask, and he nods.

By then, you might probably be able to help your child as you would have gone through ten years of full moons. But that doesn’t change the fact that, right now, it seems scary.

“With my blood, our child will live this wolf experience very differently than any other werewolf. They will be a king or queen so they must be stronger and better prepared than anybody else.”

This kid seems to have gotten the golden ticket to be ‘special’. Merely a month ago, you thought this child would be a totally normal kid, but then, Jungkook proved you wrong.

“The fact that I’m from a different pack won’t have any impact?” you ask.

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “The royal blood is stronger than any other.”

 “So I’m basically just carrying your child,” you jokingly say. “It’s like I don’t contribute at all.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s in the mood to tease you back.

“Carrying our child,” he corrects with a smirk, leaning in slightly. “And trust me, your contribution is very… memorable,” he whispers in your ear.   

Shivers run down your spine, and the playful and cheerful mood has been replaced by something more heavy. By something hotter. And man, you crave so damn much to kiss this man. How will you survive this night with him by your side?

His face is way too close to yours, his eyes now locked on yours. His hot breath caresses your face, and his gaze is filled with lust. The two of you look at each other’s lips with so much desire.  The attraction you feel towards him seems to grow bigger and bigger every day. You’re sure you’ll end up giving in, but you haven’t changed your mind. This kiss needs to happen because you’re both sure about it.

You clear your throat before straightening up. Jungkook instantly retreats, sitting the way he was before getting too close.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” you say.

In the blink of an eye, the sun goes down, and the moon lights up through the darkness of the night. At first, you don’t really feel anything, you’re even convinced you’ll easily navigate through this night. But very slowly, the pain intensifies as your bones and muscles realign into a form they never took before. Everything inside you is moving. Everything inside you is being torn apart.  It feels like someone is pulling you in two different directions. You’ve never experienced this kind of pain.  

“Jungkook,” you almost scream as the bones of your right arm move. “Help me.”

Tears run down your face, and Jungkook cups your face in his hands. His thumbs clean the tears on your cheeks. He’s on his knees just like you so he can be at your level. It’s impossible for you to be standing or sitting because of all the things changing in your body right now.

His eyes are full of fear and pain as he obviously can’t do anything but watch you go through this. Obviously, he can understand the intensity of the pain you feel, but he can’t take the pain away. He has healing powers, but they don’t work for this kind of scenario.   

“I’m so scared.”

“I know,” he answers. “Don’t fight it, just embrace the pain. Scream at every moving bone. Scream when your muscles tear. But don’t hold anything back.”

You nod, your eyes don’t leave his as they seem to anchor you in some kind of way.

“You can do this,” he encourages you. “You’re so fucking strong.”

The next couple of minutes that feel like hours, you spend them screaming with pain. You understand now why the first full moon is painful. It’s the first time that your body adapts to your wolf shape. A wolf and a human are very much different.   

“You’re doing so great, yn,” his thumbs caress your cheeks. “You’re doing so well,” he repeats.

Suddenly, Jungkook sees your eyes becoming blue, and he mimics you, his eyes now turning red. The man in front of you decides to turn at the same pace so you don’t feel alone in this. For sure, it’s not quite the same, but at least, by the time, you’re fully a wolf, he’ll be as well.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Then, out of the blue, you feel the baby moving, and your hand instantly goes to your stomach. Your ears try to find the sound of his heartbeat, but you don’t find it.

“Something’s wrong?” Jungkook is looking at you with worry.

“The baby,” you simply answer, and Jungkook frowns. “I don’t hear the heartbeat.”

“Don’t worry, yn,” he says. “I hear it.”

“But I don’t,” you start crying.

Jungkook begins imitating the baby’s heartbeat to help you find it. Following his voice, you try to find the heartbeat, but you can’t. You never stop trying because right now, that’s what you need. You need to ensure your baby’s safety. This is already very painful and if on top of that, you lose your baby, it’ll be the end of you.

Swiftly, the heartbeat echoes in your ears which appeases your soul instantly. Right there, you notice the claws appearing in your hands. It’s impressive to see it coming from your body. It feels unreal. Your body is changing, transforming into something you don’t know. At the same time, you can sense his hands changing against your cheeks. It doesn’t hurt, but his skin texture is different.

After that, your teeth and ears change as well. Jungkook’s hands leave your face to give you room while you go through this transformation. And for a while, you remain like that, stuck in between your human and wolf shapes. However, the pain doesn’t fade away. It’s still there, but nothing has changed. Jungkook starts to pick up the despair in your eyes. You’re panicking.

“Yn,” he lifts your chin to make you look at him.

His red wolfy eyes meet your blue ones.

“I’m a failure, Jungkook,” you whisper.

Your cheeks are ravaged by the tears that have been running down your face since the beginning. It’s such a heartbreaking vision.

“I can’t even fully turn into a wolf.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he halts you before you add anything else. “Don’t say that. You’re far from being a failure.”

His fingers brush your chin with tenderness which soothes you.

“You’re fucking brave, yn,” he continues. “You tragically lost your parents, you’ve recently found out about you and this heritage, and since you’re ten, you’ve been navigating life in the most heartbreaking way,” he reassures you. “You’re doing way better than a lot of us, and we had at least ten years to prepare.”

His red eyes don’t ever look away from you. Even though they have a wolf aspect, you can see how soft his expression is.

“It’s okay to be scared, but I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”

You nod with tears still running down your face.

“Just let this happen, don’t fight it,” his voice is calm. “Take a deep breath and don’t focus on the pain.”

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and you try to focus on something other than the pain. Jungkook’s calm heartbeat invades your senses, and you decide to use it as an anchor. You decide to focus on it to forget about the pain.

Slowly, you feel your body complete the shift. Fur spreads over your skin, your hands become paws, and the clothes covering your body are now on the floor. The world around you now feels vivid and alive.

Your vision is totally different, and your senses are heightened. Everything seems to stimulate you, but somehow, you still manage to not react to everything.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook asks.

“The pain is completely gone,” you telepathically say.  

Even if you deeply desire to speak, in this shape, you can’t say much except growl. However, you can still have a conversation with him through your thoughts. It’s honestly quite a useful.  

“And everything feels different, but it’s fine so far,” you add.

He tilts his head, slightly confused.

“Okay, this is new,” he says. “Usually, people leave their human side when they turn,” he informs you. “But it’s good if you still have your human side while being a wolf.”

Jungkook shifts into his wolf form, and you’re blown away. A large wolf has now replaced the man standing in front of you. He’s even more impressive as a wolf than as a human. His stature is intimidating yet majestic, exuding both dominance and grace.

His fur is a blend of silvery grey and white, making his red eyes stand out a lot. His eye color adds an intense energy to his appearance, signifying his role as the king and the immense power he holds.

“Like what you see?” his voice echoes in your mind.

Even though you don’t have a human aspect anymore, you still feel your face get hot. You look away with shyness.

“You’re so majestic,” you admit.

“I’m supposed to be the king,” he answers while his muzzle appears in front of you. “I know I have a more imposing stature as a wolf.”

This is all so crazy. Never in a billion years would have you thought this was going to happen. You’ve turned into a wolf with a guy that is a werewolf king. On top of that, you’re calmly speaking with a wolf as if it’s the most normal thing. 

“What color is my fur?” you ask with curiosity.

“It’s a deep dark brown,” he says while his eyes glance at you. “Very pretty color.”

Is this man going to make you blush all night long?

“Thanks,” your eyes don’t look away this time.  

Jungkook now shows you how to walk, move, and adjust to your new body. Every step feels foreign, it feels like you’re learning how to walk again. As you’re walking towards the door, you have this feeling that you’re walking like an injured dog. But it’s your first time, you can’t be harsh with yourself.

The two of you head towards the door that opens to the woods. At first, you stumble slightly because your legs feel strange. But slowly, you realize that you’re walking. Really walking. The ground under your paws feels solid, reassuring. The more you move, the more natural it becomes.

As you walk towards the forest, you start to gain confidence, and it makes you feel powerful and free. It’s not easy to describe, a mix of awe and exhilaration that courses through your veins. Never in your life have you felt this way. It’s like this new form isn’t just a part of you—it’s always been waiting for you to claim it.

Your heart beats faster, not with fear, but with an exciting sense of possibility. You glance at Jungkook, whose red eyes shine under the moonlight. He senses your transformation is more than just physical. He gives you an encouraging look before he runs, his sleek sliver-and-white fur shining under the moon.

Jungkook keeps looking back at you to make sure you’re following him. However, you take your time because you want to adjust to this new reality. Slowly, you begin to move, your steps becoming steadier with each passing second.  

As you enter the depths of the forest, you realize how deeper everything feels around you. It’s like you’re discovering for the first time what it feels like to be walking in the woods. The earthy scent of the moss and leaves fills your nostrils like never before. You feel every blade of grass under your paws, and the night wind brushes through your fur, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Over your head, the full moon glows in the dark, and its energy courses through you and heightens every sensation. It’s overwhelming but in the best possible way.

You push forward, your paws digging into the earth as you pick up speed. Jungkook slows down, waiting for you to catch up. His glowing red eyes are filled with pride and encouragement, and he swears he has never seen something as beautiful. Watching you discover everything he has taken for granted is heartwarming.

When you finally reach him, you stand next to him for a moment before you run past him. He’s definitely surprised, and soon, he’s running beside you. For the first time, you don’t struggle to keep up. You’re racing with him, your movements fluid and sure. The two of you snake through the trees, your bodies moving as though they’re part of the forest. You’ve never felt so alive, so connected to the world around you.

Jungkook keeps a steady pace beside you, and his presence grounds you in this surreal moment. You really can’t describe the feeling of having the wind rushing through your fur as you run. Eventually, you end up slowing to a stop in a clearing bathed in moonlight. Your breathing is heavy, but your heart has never felt this light before.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice echoing in your mind: “You did it.”

You look at the father of your child and realize this is so much more than just a transformation. It’s a bond, a shared experience you’ll for sure never forget. As overwhelming as it’s all been, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

This is your new reality, and it surprisingly feels like home.

“I did it,” you think to yourself, but Jungkook hears it.

The wolf next to you has never felt so much pride over someone turning into a wolf. He was present when his younger siblings made their first steps as wolves, and even though he was very proud of them, with you, it’s completely different. And he wonders if he will feel even more pride once your baby shifts for the first time.

For the rest of the night, you just walk through the woods, flirting with the city’s limits. Jungkook’s own forest seems to know no end, but it definitely gives you all the space you need to freely run. Surprisingly, you don’t meet any other wolf, but you don’t mind. You’re just too thrilled to discover this new body.

“It’s time to go back,” Jungkook informs you as he notices the darkness of the night leaving room for the sun’s light.

The father of your child guides you back to his outbuilding. Since you have no clue where you are, you simply follow him. Very quickly, you reach the large space. This time around, Jungkook closes the door once you’re both inside.

“So,” he stands in front of you. “To shift back to your human form is easier, but it’s more emotionally draining,” he explains. “It’s not painful, but it’ll take a lot of energy from you.”

You nod, it’s logical that it also contains its fair share of difficulty. Now, you just need to know how to go back to your human form.

“What do I need to do?” you ask.

“You need to set free the wolf inside you,” he tells you. “And visualize yourself as human.”

Well, seems easier said than done. How do you even set the wolf free? You’re definitely not very very sure how you should approach this, but you’ll try.

You close your eyes, but all you can think of is how you felt tonight. This has been by far one of the best experiences of your life. It was painful—you won’t hide it, but the aftermath made it worth it. You’d go through that pain again just to be able to walk so freely.

For a moment, it’s all you can think about, and it doesn’t help to shift you back into your ‘normal’ self. Then, you open your eyes and watch Jungkook.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you say.

The impressive wolf standing in front of you seems to think. He doesn’t really know what to tell you, he’s been able to shift so easily for over fifteen years. It’s easy to guide someone through the pain, but when there isn’t any, he simply doesn’t know what to say.

“Maybe try to think of someone you cherish, or a good memory, or at least, something that makes you happy.”

For the second time, you close your eyes. Your mind runs through all the positive events you lived, and one stands out from all of them. It’s a memory with your dad.    

When you were little, you’d love to go to the shopping street downtown. There were always tons of people—something deeply annoying—, but you’d love to run through every store window to look inside. Your father would go to some of them to buy ‘grown-up’ things. You don’t remember what it was exactly because you didn’t really care back then. All you wanted was to see everything the store had.

At the end, there would be a pretty big café. If you’d behave well, you had the right to eat a pastry with orange juice. Obviously, you’d always make sure to wear your best behavior because the reward was worth it. For the pastry, you’d always go for a croissant with chocolate in it. Every time, you’d hope that the café would have this croissant. If not, you’d take whatever there was.

Your father would always take an espresso with a cheese toast. The smell of his coffee would always comfort you. Even right now, you can still smell it, and it has the same comforting effect. Those are the most precious souvenirs you have with your father.

After his passing, you never went back to that café. Felix tried to bring you there, but you’d refuse. You didn’t want to replace the souvenirs with your father. This café was your dad’s and yours, nobody else's. A little tear runs down your face as you remember that you’ll never be able to create new memories with him in that special place.

Without realizing it, you slowly shift back into your human form. When you realize it, you slowly open your eyes while standing up. Jungkook is still a wolf, but in a matter of seconds, he’s back to being a human.

Your eyes widen when you’re graced with a naked Jungkook, and you instinctively put your hands in front of your eyes. You weren’t really expecting this, and especially, to see this man naked any time soon. He chuckles, but then, it hits you— you’re naked as well.

“Shit,” you mumble.

Then, his warm hands wrap a blanket around you. You uncover your eyes to look back again at the werewolf king. He’s still very much bare, and you try to avoid staring below his chest. It feels totally inappropriate.

“Thanks,” you offer him a little smile.

To your surprise, his right arm is fully covered in tattoos. Honestly, you would have never imagined him with body art. He doesn’t give the type; perhaps it’s because he’s a king. Actually, you’ve never pictured any king adorned with such markings. And it truly makes him look a million times hotter.

Let’s not even talk about his toned figure…

Your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his body. His squared and broad shoulders look like they were carved from stone, and his muscular torso is just as well mesmerizing. The way his chest rises and falls with each breath is hypnotic, and for a moment, you can almost feel the raw power lying beneath his skin.

Your eyes linger longer than they should, and you suddenly find it hard to meet his eyes again. You can’t deny it—his presence is utterly magnetic, and it stirs something deep within you. 

Suddenly, you’re violently hit by the fatigue. You didn’t see that coming, but after this amazing night, it’s normal.

Jungkook grabs the clothes on the floor, and you turn around so you don’t stare any longer at him—or should you say drool over him. He looks way too good for his own good. While looking at the wall facing you, you yawn and rub your eyes. You really need to sleep now.

“You’re tired?” Jungkook asks.

“Very,” you answer.

The man appears in front of you, fully dressed with a smile on his face. His cute face contrasts a lot with his very muscular body.

“Let me take you back home,” he says when he realizes just how tired you truly are.   And before you even know it, you’re in his arms while he carries you to his mansion.

[dafterdarling]

just me and you // alexia putellas

alexia putellas x lioness!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol

summary: you desperately need a date to viv and beth's wedding and alexia happens to be there

word count: 1963

You look down at the white envelope in your hand, your name is written in elegant script on the front with a small smiley face that must have been added after the fact.

You smile back at it.

You don't even have to open it to know that it's for Beth's wedding but you rip it open anyway. It's the typical, we invite you to our wedding kind of stuff but what stumps you is the plus one that is given.

This is where your overthinking begins... If you don't bring anyone, you'll look a little odd but who are you supposed to bring?

The only other person at Barca that is going is Keira and she'll bring Laura.... and Ona is going to be Lucy's date and no one else knows Beth or Viv outside the professional sense.

So your options seem to reduce to no one very quickly.

You groan and throw the invitation on the coffee table before launching yourself on to the sofa, letting out a soft grunt when you hit the pillows.

God, the only way out was to meet someone before the wedding... and you had a couple of months to do so.

You begin with Tinder and promptly delete it after Ana 30 messages you for an autograph. You move on to Hinge and Bumble... you're meet with similar conservations- some ask for tickets, others for signatures. Then there are the occasional weird conversations, someone asking you whether you liked feet like they did or an in depth description of what they would 'do to you' which resulted in an immediate block.

This seemed to be going nowhere so you were about to just accept your fate and decide going alone is the best course of action until a random Tuesday training.

"So you got a date for Beth's yet?" Keira asks as she gives you a little bump with her shoulder whilst you drink your water.

You shrug and then give her a pointed look that explains everything or at least you hope it does because you don't feel like explaining all that.

She shrugs back, "You should just ask Alexia."

You snap your head to her as you spit out the water you'd been drinking- You had told her about your two year long crush on Alexia in confidence and here she was saying it out loud like it was obvious.

"What! No- absolutely not.. no just no." You sputter out, spilling water all over yourself and the grass.

Keira laughs and elbows your side to catch your attention again- you look at where or more like who she points at- It's Alexia, looking beautiful in the team issue training clothes and walking towards you.

You panic slightly, hoping she hadn't overheard your conversation since that would be a mess to sort out and your contract still had a year on it. You really didn't want to have to avoid her for a year.

"Hola." Alexia greets the two of you and bends down to collect her own water.

You mumble back a polite 'Bon dia' and look anywhere but her. Your cheeks are burning and you know you must look as red as a tomato, you pray that she doesn't notice.

Keira, who still stands next to you, elbows you again and whispers, "Just ask her, this is your chance, Y/N."

You shake your head frantically and are about to say something but Alexia beats you to it.

"What are you talking about?" Her accented English reaches your ears and you feel the tips off them heat up.

You are about to make up some excuse or just blatantly lie but Keira tells her the truth.

"We got invited to a teammates wedding and Y/N is trying to find a date but she's got no luck." Keira jokes.

You look at her with sharp eyes and then laugh lightly trying to play off your awkwardness with a smile. Alexia smiles back at you and that makes it a hundred times more difficult not to lose your cool when you notice just how radiant she looks when she smiles.

"I think I'm just gonna go alone for this one."

"What- no.." Alexia thinks for a moment, "It not bad luck to go alone?"

You bite your tongue as you try not to blush at her broken English. She was right, it was probably bad luck to go to a close friends wedding alone but you couldn't ask her... Could you?

"I go with you?"

And this time you snap your head in Alexia's direction, shock written all over your face.

"It will be fun, no?"

You nod trying to hide the growing feeling in your heart as she speaks to herself in Spanish that you don't understand.

The months pass quickly and you almost forget about the wedding altogether with Champions League games piling on top of the league and the cup adding to the stress with you trying to supress your feelings as the cherry on top of the cake.

It all comes to a halt when Alexia asks you what you plan to wear one evening after a match.

"What you wearing?" She askes, leaning against the wall as you zip your coat up, "To the wedding." She clarifies and you swear you can see blush on her cheeks but you play it off as lighting.

Your heart does a little flip when you hear her voice and then immediately sinks when you realise you haven't thought about your clothes yet.

Alexia must notice it too as suddenly her hand is on your bicep, rubbing up and down reassuringly.

"What.." You cough, trying to hide your blush, "What are you wearing?"

You try to steer the conversation away from you and it works for a brief moment.

"A dress.." She chuckles, "Maybe yellow? It will be summer, no?"

You nod, not much matches yellow and you weren't planning on wearing a dress.. no matter how hot it was going to be. Plus, did Alexia even want to match with you? It's not like... you were a couple or something.

Even though... deep down you wished you were.

"You.. wear a suit, no?" Alexia smiles at you kindly.

You snap out of your thoughts and raise your brows in shock but nod along.

"Classic is best."

And you once again find yourself nodding along and then suddenly she leans in to kiss you on the cheek as a goodbye. It makes you blush furiously and sputter out your own goodbye in horrible Spanish.

You keep her words in mind later that evening when buying your clothes, opting for black seeing as Alexia was most likely to approve of that.

But just to make sure, you send her a screenshot to which she responds with a heart, making your own one grow tight for a moment.

The wedding rolls around quicker than you'd expected.

After lifting the Champions League with Barca for the third time, you find yourself in a garden decked out with beautiful flowers and soft music playing as you wait for Viv and Beth to finish their photos after the ceremony.

Alexia returns with your drinks and you thank her as you blush. She looks beautiful, pale yellow dress fitting wonderfully into the wedding and the cut allows the most tasteful eyeful of her.

An eyeful you try not to make apparent.

You can a large gulp hoping it will calm your nerves but all you feel is the alcohol. Suddenly, you can't tell whether it's Alexia or the drink making you feel is light headed.

"You..." You start and then suddenly stop when Alexia looks at you. You blush under her gaze but continue anyway, "You look nice.. I mean beautiful... yeah really pretty.."

You wish you could smack yourself for that one but you're in a public space and Alexia is right next to you.

"Gracias." She says and you swear it's blush on her cheeks too but maybe it's just the low lighting.

She's about to continue but Leah spots you out of the corner of her eye and wanders up to you, greeting you with a tight hug.

"Was it your plan to look like a bumble bee couple or what?" She jokes and laughs.

Your eyes widen and you go to correct her but Alexia is already speaking over you.

"We think it's cute, no?" She wraps an arm around your waist and yours automatically makes it's way to her bare shoulders.

Any thoughts of denying Leah's assumption go flying out the window when Alexia is slotted into your side. Instead you happily chat away until it's time for the first dance.

The rest of the night is a whirlwind- the party is fully going now and it's safe to say that you're buzzed, if not even a little drunk after the amount you've had.

You're leaning against the bar, resting your face against the cold marble when a hand tugs you off your barstool and onto the dancefloor.

You yelp as your being dragged away from the comfort of the bar and are about to protest when you notice it's Alexia. Her hands are on your forearms and she's jumping up and down to the beat, urging you to dance along with her.

You grin, the alcohol mixing with the excitement- making all nervousness you have have had before fade away. It's now that you notice the light layer of sweat on Alexia's skin, it makes her baby hairs stick to her forehead but it makes you fall in love harder and want her that little bit more.

You feel as though your suffocating in your jacket and hot air fills your lungs every time you can a breath but you could careless if it means you get to dance with Alexia.

The same Alexia you'd fallen in love with on your first day at Barca and the same one that was with you now.

The fast dance song fades into a slow romantic one that you briefly recognise from some film and Alexia's hands slide from your arms to your shoulders prompting you to put yours on her waist.

Maybe it's the alcohol or the fact that Alexia's hands are on you again but you blurt out three words that could ruin everything, "I like you."

Alexia freezes in your arms and for a moment you think she's going to run off but instead she leans forwards to rest her head against your shoulder and chuckles into your ear.

"I know, carino,"

You laugh in shock and then she runs a hand down your nape, making you shiver with anticipation.

"I like you too... a lot." Alexia admits whilst the two of you sway gently to the music.

For an instant, it's like there is no one else but her and so you lean back to look at her before putting your lips on hers.

The kiss is as sweet as you expected it to be- you can taste the alcohol on her tongue and you're sure she can taste it on yours but it doesn't matter because she's kissing you back.

Your hands tighten on her waist, trying to keep you both upright as she kisses you back passionately. You hear a whistle in the background that sounds a lot like Lucy's but you ignore it.

Instead, when the kiss breaks apart, you lean your head on her shoulder and find yourself relaxing when she doesn't pull away from you.

You whisper sweetly into her ear, "It was like.. there was just me and you for a moment then.."

You can feel Alexia smile and it makes your heart tighten like it's about to explode. Knowing that she felt it too.

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I was in a car accident yesterday (car took most of the damage, I’m ok other than bruises and sore muscles) and the whole thing has been a whirlwind of insurance and hospital and half asleep crying. I was wondering if I could request James potter x reader for comfort in a situation like that? I’m going through it rn lol hope you’re having a good day :)

Oh I'm sorry lovely! I had a very similar thing happen a little over a year ago, it's sooooo exhausting even when luckily no one is seriously hurt. Thanks for requesting, hope you're having a good/better day too <33

cw: past car accident, no details but talk of general aftermath of police questioning, insurance, etc.

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 799 words

The way James half-jogs up to the automatic doors of the hospital, seeming caught between walking and running, feels like someone is pressing down on the bruise of your chest. You wish you’d called him sooner. 

“James,” you call as he comes in, hating how your voice cuts through the taut quiet of the waiting area. It’s worth it for how his whole self softens when his eyes find you. 

He slows to a fast walk the rest of the way to you, the urgency slowly leaving him—which is appropriate, there is no urgency, everything has happened already—like an engine running out of gas. You stand as he nears, and both of you reach for each other before James hesitates. His hands stop midair, his brow tightening for a moment, before they come tentatively to your elbows.

“Hi,” he says, squeezing. “How bad is it?” 

“For me or the car?” you joke. 

“You.” James is feeling too earnest for joking, it seems. “Well, both of you. But you first.” 

You really thought you’d cry when you saw him. Worried you’d make a whole scene, blubbering and inconsolable, but you don’t seem to have any tears left. It makes sense, you suppose; you’ve cried a lot in the past few hours. First the slow, shaky kind right after getting out of your car, and then a real cry when a police officer had pulled you aside to get your version of events. (It had been embarrassing. She’d been nice about it, though.) Now, you wait for the tears to come, but for all your relief at seeing your boyfriend you feel rather dried up. 

It makes you wish, once again, that you’d called James sooner. You’d wanted to, of course, but you’d been nearly certain you’d be even less capable of holding yourself together if he were there, and there wasn’t much reason for him to be anyways. He was at work and you weren’t terribly hurt, so there was really nothing he could have done while you were talking to the police and the tow company and the paramedics and attempting not to drown in an overwhelm of insurance information. The only thing you really wanted him for was to hold your hand.

“I’m okay,” you say, the necessary preface. “A bit bruised up. My chest got the worst of it.” 

Unconsciously, your hand comes to your sternum as if to demonstrate, gravitating towards the center of the ache. James’ hand follows, seemingly just as thoughtless as it covers your own. He can’t see the bruise, but he makes a low, sad sound anyway. 

His care softens your voice. “They said my neck will probably hurt tomorrow, but it doesn’t yet.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” James sounds really, truly heartbroken for you. “And the rest, it hurts a lot?” 

You shrug. What’s a lot? You know you could’ve had worse, much worse; still, you could do without that frightening soreness that comes with each breath. 

“It’s not too bad,” you say. “I could still hug.” 

It’s the question he’s been dying to ask, clearly. James’ arms are around you in a second, ardent but still gentle, palms pressing to the high and low points of your bag. It’s a good hug. You melt a little against him. 

James tucks his face into the side of your neck, like he’s trying to get as much contact with you as he can. “I wish you’d called me when it happened.” 

“You were at work.” 

“I’d have left work.” 

“There wasn’t anything you could do. I was fine, I just had to…” a little sigh escapes you, exhaustion creeping in now that he’s here “...talk to people. Insurance and all that.” 

James makes a soft, half-agreeing sound. His thumb strokes the base of your neck. “Still. I could have held your hand.” 

A new ache rises in the back of your throat, coming to join the rest. You wind your arms tighter around James. 

After a few, silent moments, he kisses your neck chastely and loosens his hold. “Ready to go home? Anything else you need?” 

You shake your head. “I’m signed out,” you say, so eager you feel like you could float out the doors. You hope you can entice James to lie in bed with you when you get home. You think you’ll sleep until tomorrow. “Let’s go, please.” 

“Alright, you don’t have to say please, sweetheart.” James curls an arm around your shoulders, pressing a smile into your cheek. “We can go. You need one of those wheelchairs for me to take you out to the car?” 

“Ha ha,” you say drily. “No.” 

“Just checking. Think maybe I ought to ask for one, just in case?”

“James. I will take your car home without you in it.” 

“Alright, lovie, I’m coming.”

[pseudonymousposting]

Just use the word from before. You don't really need to worry about having a different word for everything unless the difference serves a purpose.

If your story is first person or primarily follows a specific POV or is told by a specific narrator, wouldn't it make sense that the storyteller is not a walking dictionary?

When people speak, they tend to have patterns anyway, and you don't notice them unless you're looking for it. I can refer to Hbomberguy's bit in his plagiarism video where he mentions that an AI asked to write a segment in his style uses the words, "buckle up." This points to how he uses that phrase often.

He jokes that this is because he's bad at writing. I beg to differ. The consistent use is really fucking good, actually, and I hope he doesn't correct for it in the future.

The pattern, when used specifically by him, has certain implications that will prompt a fan of his videos to notice when he is making a salient point integral to the theme he is conveying throughout the entire video. You also know that the example he is about to use is probably pretty goddamn funny, or notable, or egregious. Maybe you noticed that before. Maybe. If you've watched all of his videos, like twice each, at least.

If you're a fan of Dimension 20, it's quite likely you know all the words Brennan Lee Mulligan uses ALL the time.

Rad

INcredible

Hell yeah

All are little communicators from him as a DM. They're used so often, even casual watchers meme about it. Also Matt Mercer saying "how do you want to do this." Also make note, if Brennan Lee Mulligan starts monologuing with a question, brace yourself.

The use of these common, consistent, repetitive phrases actually communicates more. It would be ridiculous if Brennan Lee Mulligan got shy about using the same term and clumsily said "inferno affirmative," or something. Unless he was purposely doing it as a clunky bit just for laughs, and even then, doing it unprompted would just get a blank stare at this point. The repetition has a benefit, not a deficit.

Your peerless vocabulary is not the most important component of your craft. Your story is. Care less about finding a million different words to say the same thing, and focus more on saying what you need to say. Story good, not word good.

When people read a story, they might say "the plot was well constructed." Or, "the suspense kept me on my seat." Or, "I laughed so hard."

You know what they won't say? "There's was a nice diversity of words there. The writer did a good job of making sure they didn't use a word twice on a given page." I'd argue that if that's what a reader notices, the writer failed to craft a good story.

Complimenting a person on their extensive vocabulary is more a thing an adult does for a 'gifted' child. It's better to write an excellent narrative at a 3rd grade reading level than to write a bad story at a collegiate level.

Hell, it's better to write a good story at a 3rd grade level than it is to even write an amazing story at a collegiate level. You're communicating. Make sure you are doing so effectively first and foremost. Everything else is just fluff.

This falls in line with the thing where people will try to cap off quotes with unnecessary modifiers where "said" does just fine and is almost invisible. Y'know, the ol' "'snape!' Slughorn ejaculated." Why say many words when few words do trick, eh?

Not to say finding the right synonym isn't useful. Sometimes, a synonym carries specific implications or a slightly different meaning more suited to that particular use case. In this case, that synonym might actually be a better fit to serve your purpose.

Alternatively, it's possible the character could be more likely to use that word over another for any particular reason. It can speak to who they are in a way that can help you avoid a little exposition here and there. Hell, using outdated terms might do the same.

For example, a now deceased man who was an instructor before I flunked out of college, who was nearly 90 years old. I think he sometimes used stories from his career to try and provide a point without giving answers.

He started one such story with "there was this guy I worked with a long time ago. He was uh ambidextrous, yknow what I mean? Uhh, he was a switch-hitter or a uhh..a bisexual..."

I'm not gonna lie, I was fucking awestruck at the term "switch-hitter," referencing bisexuality. That term instantly made me a patriot for about two weeks. I'd never heard anything more apple-pie, bald eagle with a single tear, and inside the tear, you can see the twin towers, Ole Glory waving proudly in the background with fireworks bursting over the top motherfuckin AMERICA than "switch-hitter" meaning "bisexual" holy shit.

Anyway, shortening things, I flunked out, met my abuser, and fled town because I just couldn't live in the same town as them anymore. He called to check on me.

He told me he keyed in that something was wrong and felt the need to check in. He believed my story. He said a lot that helped me with my recovery.

Part of my story involved the fact that I'm trans, as queer relationship dynamics were, like, central to the abuse. Interestingly, unlike many people in their 40s, 50s, and 60s, this man pushing his 90s understood every single damn word of what I was saying.

I bring up this story because of the synonyms he uses and how we can think about their use in context. My mind trails back to the term "switch hitter," a 1960s slang term for bisexual used right after "Ambidextrous," an earlier term. Of course, the man immediately understood all this queer mumbo-jumbo I was saying and didn't flinch even a little about my being trans.

However, its use from a 90-year-old right after "ambidextrous" tells an entirely different story. It drops a hint that this guy may have been, at the very least, accepting of people who were involved in the gay rights movement during the time.

Desperately seeking a synonym for "bisexual" might yield you to terms which are today potentially offensive or harmful, but before the 1970s were descriptors that bisexuals would sometimes use to describe themselves. So, depending on who uses that term, it could be harmful, or it could be someone who fought against that harm long before that term ever had potential negative implications.

Also, note how many times I just said, "bisexual?" Did it feel repetitive? Probably not.

If the use of the synonym serves no purpose other than feeling like you need to use a different word, consider, "Why am I really looking for a synonym, here?" If it doesn't serve a specific purpose, then feel free to just use whatever word makes sense. If it matters for one reason or another, use that. Just use what works. This ain't a vocabulary test. You don't need to impress your middle school English teacher anymore. You're free.

[ateezscupid]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: Swim - ROUGH ♡

SUMMARY / Your husband comes home angry, so you let him take it out on you.

warnings ✩ SMUT, DOM/SUB dynamics, established relationship (you're married with kids), hard!dom seonghwa, fem!reader, sub!reader, light masochism & sadism, degradation, daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, reader is left with bruises, SAFEWORDS!!

word count ✩ 2,64k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @kitten4sannie

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

The door slammed shut with a bang, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet house. You paused, your hand hovering over the half-folded laundry. The vibration of the slam traveled through the wooden floorboards and up your spine, setting your nerves on edge. You knew that tone.

"Hwa? Is that you?" you put the laundry into the basket in front of you and carry it out of the bedroom, the scent of fresh fabric softener a stark contrast to the tension in the air.

"Mhm." he answered dryly, slamming his bag on the ground. You could see his shoulders tense from the kitchen doorway. The light from the setting sun cast an orange glow over him, highlighting his furrowed brow and clenched fists.

"Oh," you sit the basket on the ground and push it toward the wall, walking over and running a hand along his chest. "What happened, baby?"

He sighs, his body language speaking volumes. "It was a bad day at work. The boss was on my back, deadlines everywhere. I couldn't catch a break."

"I'm sorry." you caress his cheek, feeling the stubble scrape against your palm. His eyes, usually a soft brown, were now cold and distant. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "No, talking about it won't change a thing." His jaw was set in a firm line, his voice laced with frustration. You knew this wasn't just about work. It was about feeling powerless, about the weight of the world pressing down on him. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his waist, hoping to offer some comfort, but he remained stiff.

"Well," you sigh. "Is there anything else you think could help?"

He turns to face you, his eyes searching your own. For a moment, you hold your breath, waiting for his response. His hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, and his grip tightens. "I just need to let it out," he says, his voice low and gruff. You can see the storm clouds gathering in his gaze, and you know what he means.

You tilt your head. "Yeah?" you pull at the buttons on his shirt. "How do you want to do that?"

His eyes drop to your neck, his gaze intense. "I want to take it out on you."

You bite your lip. This wasn't new, but it still made your heart race. "You can,"

He smirked and gently ran his fingers through your hair, tilting your face up to meet his. "But you have to be a good girl and do exactly as I say, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. This was the dynamic you'd agreed to, the one that gave him relief and you a sense of purpose. It had started out as a way to ease his stress, but over time, it had grown into something more, a part of your lives you kept hidden from the outside world.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Take your shirt off." His voice was firm but not harsh, and you obeyed, letting the fabric fall to the floor. His eyes roved over your body, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as his gaze grew hungry. You knew he wasn't seeing you as his wife anymore, but as a canvas for his anger and frustration.

You stepped closer, pressing yourself against him. His hands slid down your back, and his fingers dug into your skin, the pain sending a thrill through your body. You liked this side of him, liked the way he took control when he needed to. You craved it, even though you knew it wasn't healthy.

"Wait-" you squeak out. "The bed. We should go to the bedroom." You didn't want the neighbors to hear, and the last thing you needed was your kids walking in on this scene.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. You both knew the routine by heart. The living room was off-limits, the bedroom was the only place where this part of your relationship unfolded. He took your hand, leading you down the hallway, his grip tight enough to leave an imprint.

He walked into the bedroom and threw you onto the bed, kicking the door closed behind him. The mattress bounced under your weight, and you landed with a gasp. He towered over you, his eyes dark with the need to dominate. You felt the heat between your legs, the anticipation building. This was what he needed, what you both needed.

Without a word, he started to unbuckle his belt. The sound was like a gun cocking in the quiet room, and your heart hammered in your chest. You lay there, your eyes locked on his, as he slid the leather through the loops. The belt came free with a snap, and he held it up, the metal gleaming in the soft light.

"You remember what I said before?" His voice was a low growl, the kind that made your knees tremble. You nodded, your eyes never leaving the belt. "Then what did I say."

"You said I should do exactly as you tell me." You whispered, your voice shaking slightly.

He nodded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Good girl." He approached the bed, the belt swinging from his hand. "Take off the rest of your clothes."

You complied, your hands shaking as you unzipped your jeans and slid them off, along with your panties. He watched with a mix of anger and desire, his eyes raking over your naked body. The cool air of the room made your skin pebble with goosebumps, but the heat of his gaze kept you warm. You felt exposed and vulnerable, but also incredibly turned on.

He steps closer angrily, his breathing heavy, and you can see the rage in his eyes, but also the arousal. He's looking at you like he wants to devour you whole. You lie there, trembling slightly, your eyes on the belt. You know it's going to sting, but you also know that the pain will bring him the release he craves, and with it, the peace that follows.

He grabs you by the neck and lifts you off the bed, his grip tight but not choking. You stand before him, naked and trembling, as he takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your body. His hand slides down your throat to your chest, squeezing a breast, his thumb circling your hardened nipple. You gasp, your eyes fluttering closed.

"The prettiest little whore," he murmured, his voice a mix of anger and desire. He threw you back onto the bed, the mattress squeaking in protest. You bounced and landed with a gasp, your body ready for his wrath.

"Spread your legs," he commands, and you obey, feeling the coldness of the sheets against your thighs. He climbs onto the bed, straddling you, the belt now lying on the bedside table. His weight pins you down, and you can feel his erection pressing against your stomach. He runs his hand down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His touch is rough, but it doesn't scare you. You know he won't go too far.

He reaches between your legs, his fingers sliding through your wetness. You moan, arching your back. His eyes narrow, and he smirks. "So eager," he says, his voice thick with lust. He withdraws his hand and brings it up to his mouth, tasting you. The sight sends a bolt of arousal straight to your core.

"H-Hwa, just-" he immediately pressed his hand against your neck, his other slapping you across the cheek.

"What's my name?" he growled, his hand tightening around your throat. The pressure was just enough to cut off your breath, but not enough to make you pass out. You knew the rules, knew the power dynamics at play. You swallowed hard.

"Daddy," you whispered, your voice hoarse. It was the trigger word, the one that flipped the switch in him from your husband to the dominant figure you both needed in these moments. His eyes darkened further, his hand moving from your neck to squeeze your breast, his thumb pinching the nipple until you gasped.

Suddenly, he flipped you over and grabbed your arms, pinning them to your back. You felt the mattress shift beneath you as he straddled your hips, the weight of him pressing down on you. You could feel your heart racing, the anticipation making you wetter. He brought his hand down in a sharp crack across your ass, and you yelped, your body jolting. The pain was immediate, a searing heat that radiated from the point of impact.

"My bitch," he pushes his boxers down. "Treating you like a fucking cumdump and yet you're soaking wet for it," His coarse words sting but the pain is quickly overshadowed by the thrill of his touch as he enters you, hard and fast, without any preamble. You bite the pillow to muffle your cries, your body adjusting to the sudden intrusion. Each thrust is a punishment for your earlier transgression, each one driving the tension deeper into your soul.

He grabs a handful of your hair and pushes your face into the pillow, keeping your hips raised. His thrusts are punishing, his anger and frustration manifesting in the power behind each stroke. You can feel him taking his anger out on you, using your body as an outlet for the rage that's been festering inside him all day. And despite the pain, you find yourself craving more, needing the release that only comes with his dominance.

His hand connected with your ass once again, the sound echoing in the room. You moaned into the pillow, the sting mixing with the pleasure of his rough penetration. Each slap sent waves of heat through your body, heightening your arousal.

"Fucking bitch," he muttered, his hair sticking to his sweat covered forehead. "God, your pussy feels so good. Fits me just perfectly." His words were a mix of anger and lust, and they only served to make you wetter. You pushed back against him, meeting his punishing strokes with your own desperation.

He reached down and slapped your ass again, the sound ringing through the room. You gasped, the pain a sweet symphony that only served to fuel your desire. His grip tightened in your hair, and he pulled your head back, forcing you to look at him. "You like that, don't you?" His eyes searched yours, looking for the truth. You nodded, unable to form words around the pillow.

"When I ask you something, answer me." he growled. He let go of your hair and grabbed your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your eyes water. "Do you like it when Daddy punishes you?"

"Y-Yes-!" you gasp, your voice muffled by the pillow. The pressure on your neck sends a fresh wave of arousal through your body, and you push back against him, your ass meeting his thighs with a smack. He grunts in approval, his strokes becoming more erratic, more intense. You can feel him losing control, his movements growing sloppier as his anger turns to passion.

"Yeah, baby. You're such a fucking whore," he chuckles, groaning after. "Letting me take your pretty little pussy like this. Like you're made just for me to use." He slaps your ass again, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing in the room. You moan louder, your body begging for more.

He slams into you harder, the sound of his hips smacking against your skin filling the space between your cries. The pain is a sweet release for both of you, a dance of dominance and submission that you've both come to crave. You feel his cock stretching you, filling you completely, the friction of each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through your core.

He lifted your head by the neck once again, forcing you to look at him as he thrust into you. "You're going to take all of it, aren't you?" His voice was strained, the veins in his neck standing out as he neared his climax. You nodded, your eyes glazed over with desire. The pain in your ass from the belt and the pressure on your throat melded with the fullness inside you, creating a symphony of sensations that had you on the edge.

"You're going to come with me, baby, okay?" His voice was a mix of a question and a command. You nodded again, your eyes pleading. He reached around and began to rub your clit, the pressure building. You could feel his orgasm approaching, his grip on your neck tightening.

With a final slap to your ass, he releases your throat. You gulp in air, the oxygen rushing to your head. "Now," he grunts, his hand moving faster. You can feel yourself climbing towards the edge, your muscles tensing. He slaps your ass once more, the sting pushing you over. You scream into the pillow, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you.

"Yeah, let it out, bitch." His voice was a harsh whisper, his breath hot and ragged against your ear. His hand on your neck tightened, his other hand still rubbing your clit in a relentless rhythm. You felt his cock swell inside you, the head of it hitting your g-spot with each punishing thrust. The pressure grew unbearable, your orgasm building like a volcano ready to erupt.

"D-Daddy, I'm-" You gasped out, your body tightening around him.

"Come for Daddy," he growled, his hips slamming into yours. "Come now."

You felt your orgasm crest, your pussy clenching around his thick cock. A scream tore from your throat, muffled by the pillow. Your body arched off the bed, your toes curling as waves of pleasure washed over you. His hand squeezed your neck, and you felt his cock pulse inside you, hot cum filling you up. He grunted, his muscles tensing as he emptied himself into you, the warmth of his release mixing with the sticky wetness of your own climax.

"Yeah…" he panted, grabbing a handful of your hair with his other hand still rubbing small circles over your clit.

"V-Vanilla…" you whispered your safe word, the word that signaled the end of the scene. It was the only time you ever used it, when it was all too much, when the pain overwhelmed the pleasure. His movements stopped abruptly, his body tensing for a moment before he rolled off of you, his eyes searching your face for any sign of distress.

"It's okay, you're okay." he pushes your hair out of your face, his eyes softening from their earlier ferocity. You take deep breaths, feeling your body slowly come down from the intense high. The sting in your neck and ass starts to fade, leaving behind a warm glow of satisfaction. You roll over onto your side, curling up into a ball.

"Jesus, I bruised you." he mumbled. You glanced at the bruises on your skin and giggle slightly. It's part of the deal. You liked the marks, the evidence of his power over you. "You okay?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

You nod, still panting. "Yeah. That was… intense," you murmur, your voice still shaky. You felt a mix of relief and exhaustion wash over you. The anger that had been brewing inside him was now gone, replaced by a gentle tenderness as he brushed your hair out of your face and kissed your forehead.

"I'll start your bath," he said softly, getting off the bed and walking towards the en suite bathroom. You watched his naked form as he disappeared into the steam, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards. The sound of running water filled the room, the scent of your favorite lavender bath salts soon mingling with the sweat and sex in the air.

[goldenroutledge]

i must be dreaming

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

prompt: ❛ you’re lucky that you’re cute. ❜

a/n: for my wonderful moot @yearneir, thank you so much for the request! i had so much fun writing this <3

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

“Knock, knock!” Two knocks sound through the door of Lando’s hotel room, followed by the familiar cheerfulness of Alma, the hotel’s concierge. “Delivery for Mr. Norris!”

Lando’s muscles ache with a soreness that weighs him down into the softness of the duvet, having sprawled out face first onto the bed the second he got back from another long day of testing. The winter months are always the shortest, often flying by more quickly than the season does.

His mind is tired as well, struggling a bit extra to get back into the swing of things after months away from being in the car. He doesn’t recall ordering any room service but if he did, he’s more out of it than he previously thought.

With a sigh of reluctance, he drags his feet towards the door of the stylish hotel suite. His vision is blurry as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and instinctively checks the time on his phone that reads 8:03pm. Definitely way too early to sleep for the night, but a power nap has never hurt him before.

Sure enough, Alma is waiting on the other side of the door with a bright smile and a silver platter in hand. “Good evening, Mr. Norris. I was instructed to bring this to your room along with this letter.”

He takes a deep breath, as if the surprise delivery will make more sense when he gets some more oxygen flowing to his brain. “Oh, thank you. Who’s it from?”

Alma smiles coyly but won’t reveal too much. “I can’t say, but your answer is in the envelope. Can I get you anything else while I’m here, sir?”

“Just Lando is fine.” He politely corrects. “I’m okay, thank you though.”

“Have a nice evening.” Alma disappears down the hallway, leaving Lando to his letter and mysterious silver platter. He’s seen enough movies to know that there’s usually someone’s head under these. His first name is written neatly on the envelope and what catches his eye is the red heart stamped into the wax seal.

He remembers the date, February 14th, and blushes at the thought of you. The both of you had been corresponding on the phone like usual, of course confirming that you had received the bouquet of flowers, chocolates, and a few pieces from your favorite designer that Lando made sure to have delivered to your home, with a promise that he’d be able to properly wine and dine you in a week’s time. He carefully lifts the seal, a childlike grin spreading across his face at the sight of your neat handwriting.

-

My dearest Lando,

It pains me to be apart from you, but the distance will let our hearts grow fonder. I hope you enjoy the present I’ve prepared for you.

Yours truly,

Y/n.

P.S. Call me when you get this. XOXO.

-

His hopes are high for whatever’s underneath the silver dome, perhaps some comfort food like a classic Roast dinner that reminds him of home, just like his Mum makes.

Lando lifts the silver to find not a warm meal, but cold and slimy rolls of sushi making the shape of a heart, dipping cups of wasabi and soy sauce resting in the center.

“What the hell?!” He yelps, visibly startled by the sight. “She knows I hate this stuff.” He’s scrolling to the favorite contacts in his call log, instinctively clicking your name.

When you answer on the second ring smiling like the Cheshire Cat, Lando knows he’s been set up.

“Is this your way of breaking up with me? Sending a plate of fish to my hotel room on Valentine’s Day?” Your laugh pierces through the phone, and he’s still dumbfounded as to how you managed to pull a prank on him all the way from Monaco. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Nothing, I just wanted you to know that I’m soy into you. Happy Valentine’s Day, babe!”

“Aw, very clever. I hope you know that I’m gonna get you back for this. What fruit was it that you are mildly allergic to again? Starfruit, was it? I’m sending 50 starfruit arrangements to our house as we speak.”

“With all the risks you take at work, I’m amazed that sushi of all things has become your greatest fear. How is that?”

Lando scoffs, “I am not scared of sushi.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Sorry love, the proof is out there. But I wanted you to know that I love you anyway.”

“I love you too.” He grumbles, but there’s no bite behind his words. Lando finally takes a better look at you, but doesn’t recognize the wall in the background. He doesn’t recognize the wall behind you from your house, that is. He looks around his suite, now puzzled as to how your background matches the exact color of the hotel walls. Interesting. “Wait, where are you? You’re not at home are you?”

“I’m in a place that people temporarily call home?” You offer with a mysterious edge to your words and he subtly catches on. You can see the gears turning for him, the realization visible on his face when he moves toward the door once again.

“Wait a second… Are you HERE?! At my hotel?” His incredulous tone translates from the speaker on your phone to reverberating in your ears, behind his hotel room door that you’re standing in front of.

The door swings open and you’re reunited with those sparkling cerulean eyes you know so well. He takes a pause, glancing back and forth between his screen and you, now within arms reach. Wasting time would be a foolish thing to do. Without a care he drops his phone in exchange for cradling your face in his hands before smashing his lips onto yours. You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his frame, relishing in how warm he feels against you.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He breathes out, as if his life depends on saying it.

“Surprise! I missed you too, clearly. I’ve been wanting to try my sushi prank for a while now and this gave me the perfect opportunity. Had to get you riled up with something you hate so you’d be extra happy to see me.”

“Not necessary.” Lando murmurs against you, peppering kisses to your lips. “I don’t need anything extra, you know that. It did serve as a nice surprise, though. Definitely better than the sushi.”

You giggle as he shudders at the thought. “Forgive me?”

“You’re forgiven,” Lando sighs, unable to resist your pleading eyes and the warm notes of amber in your perfume that captivate him, “but I hope you know that if anyone else did this to me, and I mean anyone else on this planet, I would not speak a word to them for the rest of my life. However, for you, I can make an exception. You’re lucky that you’re cute.”

You kiss him sweetly, holding hints of satisfaction behind your smile at how well your plan has been executed. “Don’t worry, I plan to make it up to you. It is Valentine’s Day, after all.”

“Just when I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, how did I get so lucky?”

You pinch his cheek teasingly. “You do look exhausted still, are you sure you’re not dreaming of me?”

Lando catches your wrist and presses a kiss to the skin, content with knowing that he’ll dream of you tonight and wake up beside you tomorrow. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

💌: thanks for reading, comments & reblogs are always appreciated!

psst… my requests are open :) be my valentine blurb event 💌

[solxamber]

Ace (LMAO I just saw that you had a million request for him, but he’s just so loyal and loverboy coded. If you need to mix it up, Ruggie or Silver would work too!), Romantic, and Always by I fight Dragons

(“I can't promise you there won't be pain

I can't promise to remain the same

But when you're scared

I'll be there, tonight and always”)

I'm not complaining I love Ace

"Tonight, you look like a dream" || Ace Trappola

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Always by I Fight Dragons

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 430

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Established relationship, fluff

Ace still doesn’t know how he pulled this off.

You—someone so bright, so effortlessly you—chose him.

It doesn’t make sense. It shouldn’t make sense. He’s loud-mouthed, a pain in the ass, too stubborn for his own good. You could’ve had anyone—someone sweeter, someone smoother, someone with fewer rough edges. But somehow, somehow, you ended up with him.

And every time he sees you, it still knocks the breath out of his lungs. Every time you look at him like he’s something special, like he’s someone worth looking at, he has to fight the urge to just grab you and never let go.

Because to him, you are special. You’re every warm, golden memory. You’re the spark that turns his days from ordinary to electric. You make life something more—something worth waking up for, something worth fighting for.

He doesn’t always know how to say it. He hides behind cocky grins and teasing words, because if he ever really said how much he loved you, he might just break apart. But when he reaches for you, when his fingers brush yours and he holds on just a little too long—he hopes you understand.

He hopes you know that he’s here. That he’ll always be here.

He’s not the kind of guy to make big, poetic promises. He can’t promise that life will always be easy. That there won’t be days when he messes up, when he annoys you to the point of madness, when things don’t go the way either of you planned. But he can promise one thing:

He will always, always be by your side.

Through every fight, every laughter-filled night, every sleepy morning when he’s too lazy to get out of bed and just wants to pull you close and stay there forever—he’s yours.

Maybe one day, you’ll travel the world together, running through new cities, chasing the sun, living off adventure and love. Maybe you won’t. Maybe you’ll stay right here, right where you are. And that’s okay, because even if you never move an inch, as long as you’re next to him, Ace knows he’ll still be the happiest guy alive.

He watches you now, the way your lips curl into a smile, the way your fingers brush against his, and he thinks—this is it. This is the thing people spend their whole lives looking for.

And as he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, as he whispers a soft, “You’re stuck with me, y’know,” before kissing you like he never wants to stop—he knows one thing for sure.

Tonight and always, it’s you.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[murderofravens]

BLACKEST DAY

pairing: cho sangwoo x fem reader

summary: old feelings are rekindled when you encounter your father's old friend at the games.

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, sangwoo is 46) badly written smut, face slapping, slightly toxic dynamics, a smidge of some age-gap kink. lots of angst. body worship. this is a oneshot.

word count: around 5k

[feedback and reblogs are a writer's biggest motivation.]

MASTERLIST

life has a funny way of reuniting people.

when you woke up in the hall, surrounded by strangers wearing those ugly green clothes much like yourself, your first thought was— 'i should have brought someone with me.'

you were always rather wary of doing things by yourself. things seem much easier when you have a helping hand to give you advice, or to make bad decisions together.

your first shock came upon the mention of his name, taken by one of the guards.

player 218, cho sangwoo.

your eyes snapped up to the screen where you could see a clip of him getting slapped after repeatedly losing the game.

"former supervisor of team two at joy investments, embezzled money from his clients, invested it in derivatives and figures and failed. current loss, 650 million won."

you looked around frantically before you caught sight of him— handsome as ever, although visibly distraught. his shocked eyes were looking at the guards with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

you had known sangwoo since you were rather young. idolized him at one point, even. he and your father used to be some sort of business partners— which you can guess was another word for friends who gambled and hung out occasionally. most of your years went by with him acknowledging you politely, getting you chocolate everytime he came to visit, and patting your head with a proud smile whenever your parents told him about one of your achievements at school. you wanted to be like him— smart, ambitious and a hard worker.

you'd moved off for college when you were of age, and according to his mother, he had moved to the US for business purposes.

which, as you can see, didn't work out.

you don't really try to make conversation with him, don't even look at his side of the room. mainly because you're embarrassed. there are two reasons— the first being that you don't want to see the man you idolized at a place like this. and the second is personal. your last memory of him isn't something you're fond of. it still fills you with resentment and a sense of sadness— you had asked to meet up with him before you were going off to college, hoping to express your feelings. you'd developed a childish crush on him when you were growing up, and it had expanded into genuine feelings over time.

but he never showed up, and you were left sitting in the expensive restaurant all by yourself. you never revealed that to anyone, deciding to take that moment of humiliation to the grave.

the first game was terrifying, to say the least. while you could tell there was something inherently shady about the whole organization, what left you in genuine shock was the first shot that rang out through the field, killing the person who moved. you were careful about your steps then, walking forward rather meticulously, ensuring you were not a victim in whatever hellhole you've found yourself in.

splatters of blood covered your face as you almost reached the line, hiding behind another taller man. there were a mere 10 seconds left. your heart was quite literally trying to beat out of your chest, and sweat dripped down your forehead. and that's when you first made eye contact with him.

sangwoo, who was bent in half, was panting as he looked at the finish line. his gaze rose, and connected with yours— eyes immediately widening with recognition. you were frozen as you looked at him, jaw clenched and panic stricken. he looked at the timer, and the doll turned away. you quickly began running, and you saw him straighten up as the timer began nearing zero. you jumped across the finish line, and his hand grabbed you to help. you stumbled into him and the both of you fell onto the dusty ground— a mess of sweaty limbs.

you don't say a word to him as the guards guide you back to the hall. he is just as silent behind you, and you wonder if it's because he's embarrassed about being there, or if he remembered what he did to you and is reluctant to acknowledge you after.

"i didn't expect to see you here." he remarks quietly, voice grim. his head is lowered, and there's an almost disappointed look in his eyes.

the audacity.

"i could say the same about you," you shoot back dryly, sitting cross legged on the floor. he looks at you then, and your gaze challenged his.

"you've grown since i last saw you." he adds, and you scoff in response. so what? you were still bitter.

"it's just two years."

he clenches his jaw and looks away, his ears feeling hot. you've always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, and apparently it still applies. you look up at him, eyes accusatory.

"i thought you went to the states." there's a taunting edge to your voice— rather shallow and childish on your end, but you can't help yourself. you're playing with life and death, but still you're angrier about your history with him than anything else.

"all those degrees just to scam people? i'd expect more from someone like you, mr. sangwoo—"

"you don't know what you're talking about," he shuts your words down quickly, voice firm. he's quick to change the topic, visibly agitated. "i thought you went to college. what happened to your—"

"father?" you interrupt, sitting straighter. "he got scammed."

you look at him pointedly as you say the last word, and his eye twitches.

"he gambled away his money on some non existent race. i dont live with him anymore and i need money to continue college and pay rent. my mom doesn't know and i don't wanna worry her." you take a sharp breath, voice getting lower, "my landlady threw me out before i found the ddakji guy."

his face softens with every sentence, an expression close to pity taking over. you hate pity, so you shut it down with a glare.

"don't give me that look," you sigh with exhaustion, running a hand down your face.

"i'm sorry to hear that," he says quietly, avoiding your eyes. he blinks a few times, adjusts his glasses. he doesn't know what else to say, and he's almost glad for the interruption when the staff walks in and announces the results of the first game.

it's so sudden how people begin to beg for their lives— kneeling before the guards, pleading to be spared. it makes you feel sorry and disgusted at the same time— you can understand why they'd do so, but you can't imagine kneeling before an organisation like this in any way. you value your dignity.

when the gunshot rings out to silence the begging crowd, the guard announces the second clause of the contract: a player who refuses to play will be terminated.

your head snaps up at the sound of sangwoo's confident voice.

"clause three of the consent form—" he steps forward, "the games may be terminated upon a majority vote."

the guard nods, "that is correct."

"then," he looks around, and his eyes fall on you. he looks away, and cocks his head to the side, "let us take a vote."

you almost feel that sense of admiration for him once again— he was always smart, that you can admit. more attentive than others, better at remembering little details. he's stepping forward to directly challenge these guards while people are begging for their lives. he's brave, like he's always been.

you fall in line beside him, and he looks down at you. you give him a slight nod, before your attention is diverted to the next announcement. the staff then show the money accumulated by the deaths of the previous player— 100 million won for each. as the massive piggy bank hanging from the ceiling glows, you can feel him stiffen at the mere sight of the money.

and the voting starts. your number comes soon enough— player 420.

you don't hesitate.

this money is not more important than your life. you need to consider all your options— you're not confident that you would make it till the end. and you don't want to fucking die yet.

you press the cross, and fall into the crowd.

sangwoo's number comes a while after— and you watch him like a hawk. you know he's a smart guy who knows better than to put himself in a compromising situation. you hope he'll help you go home.

until he presses the 'O.'

you feel utterly betrayed once again and he goes to his side of the crowd, not looking at you even once. you scoff to yourself, baffled by his audacity, before redirecting your focus to the voting counter. you start hoping your side wins purely out of spite.

player 001 presses X. your side erupts into cheers and you let out a breath of relief, glancing at sangwoo who stands frozen with his head lowered.

you don't remember much after.

the car ride feels suffocating— everything is dark. there's shuffling before you feel yourself being shoved, and you let out a yelp as your bare skin hits the gravel. "ouch— fuck!"

you hear your name— and recognise the voice.

"mister sangwoo?" you gasp, and hear a pained 'yes'. you can feel a cloth wrapped around your eyes, and your hands and legs are tied. you groan, shifting and writhing on the ground, impatiently trying to free yourself. you feel teeth on the front of your wrists before your hands are released.

you sit up quickly and snatch the cloth off your eyes. you turn to sangwoo then, and quickly untie his wrists. he grunts before sitting up, and the two of you untie your legs.

"shit, it's cold—" you hiss, quickly standing up. those bastards had only left you in a plain white sports bra and underwear. he was naked as well save for a pair of white boxers. the sight makes your skin feel hot, and you take a greedy but discreet glance at his chest before rushing towards your jeans and hoodie that are tossed to the side of the road, quickly getting dressed.

you clear your throat and turn around, only to see him quickly looking away from you, his clothes still in his hands. your eyes narrow knowingly and he wordlessly gets dressed, buttoning up his white shirt.

"are we still in seoul?" you ask, and he clears his throat, adjusting his glasses before looking up towards the buildings. he nods, and you shiver slightly.

he turns to you and hesitates before moving forward to put his grey blazer over you. you raise your eyebrows in question, and he doesn't respond before checking his pockets.

"are you hungry?" he asks, and almost comically in that same moment your stomach growls. he holds back a smile, and you wrap his blazer tighter around yourself.

you rest your head against the table while you wait. you can feel it pounding, but the smell of hot ramen tempts you to raise it. he takes a seat beside you and places the steaming bowl in front of you.

"do you have the money for this?" you cant help but ask.

"dont worry about it," he says with a wave of his hand, bringing out his chopsticks to eat. you decide to leave the job of worrying to him and get to eating.

you're a rather slow eater, and he doesn't complain. he steps out of the store, and you can see his back as he takes out a cigarette. you slurp up the rest of your food and follow him out.

"i don't feel that cold anymore," you hand him his blazer, and he turns to look at you. you're thankful about your self control, because he is a sight. so devilishly handsome even after witnessing such horrors— his cigarette teasingly hanging off his lips, the smoke wafting up and making his eyes squint just a little. his glasses make him look so much more sophisticated, or perhaps you have a thing for nerdy looking men. you're not a smoker, but he makes it look so good. if you were a weaker woman, you would've gasped. no wonder half of your childhood went by with that barely disguised crush on him— no wonder no guy your age back in college seemed good enough.

you clear your throat, bring yourself back to earth and continue. "you can have it. thank you."

he takes the blazer with a nod and puts it on. takes another puff of the cigarette, and watches you look around.

"i thought you'd come back with an american wife." you almost cringe at your own words. but conversation is conversation, you don't know how else to start. it's a discreet way to find out his relationship status, if any.

"marriage is the last thing on my mind." he responds quietly, taking a puff. you look at the side of his face, and his eyes stare at the road in front of him— thoughtful. you wonder what he's thinking about.

"where will you go?" he asks without looking at you.

you shrug, "i don't know."

"do you have any money?"

you pause, suddenly feeling a sense of dread. you have no money, and what little you got from the ddakji guy, you spent on your rent. which got you thrown out anyway.

your silence speaks volumes. he tosses the cigarette to the floor and stomps on it. you sigh.

"i don't have any money."

"come with me," he looks at you, gaze intense and serious. "i have enough for the both of us. atleast for a few days till we can figure things out."

"why?" you cross your arms over your chest almost defensively, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

he grits his teeth as he glares at you, mouth twitching. he looks away then, tonguing the inside of his cheek before returning your gaze. "you have nowhere else to go. it wouldn't be responsible to leave you alone like this."

you almost scoff— the words on the tip of your tongue. but you were okay with leaving me alone back then? but you don't say it, not yet, because you could use his financial help right now. you sigh, before nodding, and gesturing forward.

"fine, lead the way."

the motel he takes you to looks respectable enough. you look around, eyeing the plain decor. the man behind the counter looks at the two of you, and then gives sangwoo a toothy grin, which immediately alerts you.

"only one room available."

sangwoo doesn't protest. he doesn't have the finances to get two separate rooms either. he opens the room and you go in first, looking around. there's a single bed and some flashy lights, and it makes you roll your eyes. you turn around to settle him with a pointed look.

"it's better than i thought," he grunts, taking his blazer off as he takes in the scene. he steps forward and drags a finger down the side table, examines the dust it leaves on his skin with mild disgust.

you bite your lower lip as you watch him— his shirt stretching across his chest, his hair falling messily across his forehead. his glasses resting delicately on the bridge of his nose.

fucking nerd.

his gaze snaps up to you and that's when you realize you'd said that out loud. you wince, looking away and he straightens up, blinking innocently.

"you're still upset with me."

you cross your arms over your chest as you sit on the bed. you quirk an eyebrow, and he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you from a respectable distance.

you decide to play dumb.

"about what?"

he's not amused. he stares at you, expression serious and intense, "i didn't plan to stand you up that day."

so we're going straight to it, you think.

"then why did you?" you snap, unable to hold back the hurt from your voice, "i waited for an hour. you never came. i wanted to talk to you."

"i know." he nods. he walks up to you then, stands at the foot of the bed. "i know what you wanted to talk to me about. i was scared."

you freeze, looking at him cautiously, your heartbeat rising. "scared?"

"i knew you had feelings for me." he sighs, sitting down beside you. his voice is hushed, making the moment feel more intimate than you'd like. "i could tell that's what you wanted to talk to me about. it terrified me."

your breath feels like it's knocked out of your lungs. you swallow the lump in your throat, holding back the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. "did anyone ever tell you that you're an asshole?"

he grunts, takes out another cigarette. he lights it up and takes a long drag— taking his time to respond.

"many people," he says, blowing some smoke through his nostrils. the sight almost makes your mouth water, but you ignore it.

"you're a dick," you shoot back dryly.

"what i am—" he points his cigarette at you, "— is too old for you. surely you didn't think it was a good idea?"

"you could've rejected me instead," you chuckle bitterly, "but you decided to leave me there to look stupid."

"you were too young." his voice is low, and his response almost makes you want to strangle him. he dusts some ash off his cigarette, adjusts his glasses, and looks at you with an intensity that makes your skin feel hot. "i couldn't keep you happy even if i wanted to."

you frown, gritting your teeth. he looks away.

"you looked at me like i hung the moon and the stars." he continues, looking ahead at the wall, gaze distant. "i couldn't maintain those expectations. we were in two completely different stages. you were meant to go to college, study well, get a good job, a boy your age—"

"stop talking like you're my father," you snap before he can finish, standing up. there's heat behind your glare and you almost laugh at his expression, "i had no expectations from you. so stop with your- your little— excuses. what's done is done, right? you've stood me up once, no need to reject me by wording it smartly. i don't wanna be with you anymore anyway."

that was a lie. you just hoped he couldn't see through your act. you're riled up because you're still affected by him, and his polite behaviour is driving you insane— you want to tear away at his walls, expose the passion he hides behind his smart guy facade. you know it because you've seen it in the way his eyes light up when he talks about his ambitions— how willing he is to cross any line to achieve what he wants. you want to butcher his self control and unleash the animal underneath, the one he's so desperate to hide. it's what made you fall for him in the first place.

he merely looks at you boredly, taking another drag of his cigarette. you snatch it off him, bring it to your own lips. he looks at you with mild shock as you take a drag, and you blow the smoke out on his face.

it all goes smoothly until you cough, and he's snatching the cigarette away again, watching you almost amusedly.

"you can't even handle a cigarette," he remarks dryly, putting it out on the bedframe. and that one line finally ticks you off. almost as if on instinct, your hand pulls back and delivers a sharp slap to his face— making it turn to the side. he snorts, adjusts his glasses again before he looks at you, unimpressed.

"you've been waiting to do that, haven't you?" he asks. your nostrils flare with anger. you can't hurt him physically— but your tongue is sharp. you'll use it.

"you're one to talk about different stages in life," you add, leaning towards him. a smirk curls upon your face, "look at you. all that ambition and experience only to end up scamming people."

out of the need to provoke him, your hand shoots out, jabbing a finger to his chest.

"how would your mother feel if she found out?"

it's a low blow, and you would be ashamed if it hadn't worked. it does its work to finally get to him. he grabs your wrist, and harshly pulls you down towards him, knocking your breath out. he shoves you on the bed and hovers over you, panting slightly. you chuckle.

"my life is hard enough," he hisses sharply, body trembling with concealed rage. his gaze drifts down to your lips before settling upon your eyes again. "do you really want to keep testing me?"

you can't help but smile smugly as you stare at him. there he is— almost on the verge of losing his composure. a few more quips and you're sure he'll crumble. it makes your skin feel tingly. your face leans up slightly, your hungry gaze drifting down to his lips. your hand reaches up, pries his glasses off his face. and then you flick his nose.

"fuck you."

the way his mouth comes crashing onto yours is animalistic. he desperately kisses you with the passion of a madman— his tongue entering your mouth and messily colliding with your own. as if to tease him, you bite his bottom lip sharply and he pulls back, eyes widening as a small trickle of blood falls down the corner of his mouth. his hand pulls back and strikes you across the face, and you can't help but laugh. your cheek stings and feels like it's burning— and you're addicted. you hope he'll do it again. you look back at him with an almost crazed look in your eyes, and you can see it finally dawn upon him that he's finally giving you exactly what you wanted.

"you're enjoying this too much, you little minx—" he hisses, grabbing your neck and kissing you again. your hands immediately reach up to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons as you try to keep up with his pace. he pulls away and tosses his shirt to the side, and you take that opportunity to use all your strength to flip the two of you around so he's the one on his back. it makes him gasp, and you look down at him with darkened eyes— a finger teasingly running down his chest, making him let out a shudder.

he's the object of all your desires for as long as you've ever known. the man of your dreams, the man that you kept comparing every single one of your college boys to. no wonder they never seemed good enough. how could they? they were no match for this beautiful man laying under you.

with a newfound vigour your head drops to his neck, licking and kissing every inch of his skin. your hungry mouth trails down his chest, breathing in the smell of him, leaving greedy bites in its wake. the sounds your actions evoke out of him are downright pornographic— soft, breathless groans that make you want to consume him entirely. his hand comes down to your head, holding you in place as you worship his body— and you moan when his fingers dig into your scalp.

your lips leave a wet trail and cherry red bites down his torso, until you reach the waistband of his pants. teasingly, you mouth at his bulge, making him hiss in return. his hips buck up slightly and you place a soft kiss to the material before leaning up to his face. his hands wrap around your waist and he flips the two of you over again, desperately tearing away at your clothes.

"i shouldn't be doing this," he mutters under his breath, talking more so to himself than you. you raise your hips and he pulls your jeans down, a throaty groan escaping him at the sight of your panties. they're almost transparent from how wet you are. he frees himself from the confines of his underwear and you watch with fascination as he holds you down with a hand on your stomach. you're panting when he's pushing them to the side and entering you immediately— making you scream from the stretch.

he clenches his jaw, squeezes his eyes shut as he buries himself to the hilt with a grunt. you choke on a pained sob, your fingers digging into his back as he grabs the side of your face.

"it hurts—" you hiss through gritted teeth, a tear running down your cheek. it burns, and he waits a second before wordlessly pulling back and thrusting again. the pain morphs into pleasure soon enough, and you whine as he falls into an easy rhythm, wrapping your legs around his waist. you whine in return, and he gives your cheek a light slap, prompting you to open your eyes. your breath hitches as he looks at you intensely— his own eyes glassy.

"not that young now am i?" you grit out with a glare, crying out as he retaliates with a harsh, pointed thrust. "y-you're my first—"

"fuck," he moans, his head dropping down to your chest. his thrusts get quicker, voice raspy and low, "don't— don't say that—"

"i always wanted you to take my virginity," you moan, throwing your head back, dragging your nails down his back. it makes him hiss, "ever since i was a—"

he slams his hand on your mouth, refusing to allow you to finish your sentence. "shut the fuck up."

he doesn't want to be reminded of the age difference between you two, even though you can tell it gets him hot. the moment his hand clasps over your mouth, you cum with a loud moan. your body trembles but he keeps going— not allowing you a moment to breathe. his eyes are full of rage as he bares his teeth in anger. you chuckle breathlessly against his hand, your eyes fluttering. he looks like an angry cat— you want to kiss him all over his face. his thrusts eventually get sloppy— he's close.

you lock your legs tightly around his waist, and he smacks you again. it surprises you this time, and he takes that opportunity to pull out, jerking himself off quickly.

"i can't afford taking risks," he grunts, clenching his jaw. you whine in response, pouting slightly, and he gives you an exasperated glare before he's cumming all over your stomach with a shaky groan.

you pant heavily as you come down from your high, and almost as if on fire— he quickly dresses himself. he pulls out a handkerchief from his blazer pocket, gently wipes off the fluids on your stomach. he just watches you on the bed— his eyes examining his handiwork. you notice his gaze lingers on your cheek. after a few minutes, he wordlessly gets up and goes to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. you roll your eyes as you pull up your jeans too. a few moments pass, and you breathe a puff of air through your nostrils.

"are we going to talk about this?" you call out. there's no answer. you get up and rush to the bathroom door, except he's locked it. you can hear light splashing of water. you scoff in disbelief, going back to the bed. you lay on your side and grab a pillow, your lips wobbling as you go over everything that happened.

this was not how it was supposed to go. he was not supposed to seem this detached. you'd expected atleast a cuddle after sex.

you don't realize when you fall asleep. it's morning when you wake up— sunlight streaming in through the window and directly onto your face, making you wince. you stretch, look over your shoulder.

sangwoo isn't there.

you immediately go to the bathroom. it's empty, though the tub is full. you frown in confusion before turning back to the bed. there, a note on the side table has you stopping.

'i'm sorry,' it said, in his handwriting. placed along with it were a few won bills.

you sniffle as you stare at the note— the writing on it almost mocking you. you crumple it up, your fist shaking as you resist the urge to cry. suddenly, there's a knock on the door, and it makes your entire body stiffen.

a card slides from the little space under the door. the same one you remember the ddakji guy giving you. the shapes on it just look sinister now. the number on it is different this time.

your breathing gets heavy as you stare at it— your head beginning to hurt. you're sure you can hear your ears ringing.

you're alone. you wonder if leaving in the first place was a mistake. your feelings are conflicted— and worst of all, you feel used and betrayed. you're not sure if you should go back to the games. you're not sure if you could survive without any money.

sangwoo had left. you don't know where he is and you have nowhere else to go. no home, and you don't know how you would face your mother. you don't know how long the money he left you could go on.

you don't want to die. but you can't keep living like this either. you bite your bottom lip as you contemplate your options, the hurt from sangwoo's departure still lingering in your chest like a stab wound.

you pick up the card and place the call.

tags: @movienerd3000 @testdrivethv @leebyunghunswifey @nerdybarbariancupcake @neganhore @k1ra-park3r @vivdolls @wab-i @stantwicr @creativerambling @yasmim-1007 @makethemgirlsgoloco @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @captaincarmel416 @warlabels @ferrarifinnick @smlbch @izzyyann @meheheasasa @poooopy @endlessfl4mes @selfishlittlebeing @pillowtalk6 @antiromanticbaby @sky-forts-and-burning-citadels @flow33didontsmoke

[skzdust]

Take From Me, Leave Nothing Left

SMUT. MINORS DNI.

This fic was an anonymous request (here)! Thank you to the requester and I hope you all like it! I had so much fun writing it teehee

Title is from "Hypnosis" by Sleep Token!

Summary: You've been texting Seonghwa all day, and when he gets home, he's about to show you how mean he can be.

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x afab Reader

Includes: overstimulation, nipple play, vibrators, dildos, gagging, needy texting, creampie, pleaseeeee practice safe sex irl!

Word count: 1.7k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst, @atzlordz,

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

11:34am, Feb 02

You: Hiii Hwa Seonghwa 💕: Hello my love =) You: When are you going to be homeeeeee Seonghwa 💕: I have a full day my love Seonghwa 💕: There is much dancing to be done You: :( Seonghwa 💕: I’ll be home soon enough, I promise, darling You: You’d better Seonghwa 💕: xx

1:43pm, Feb 02

You: Can you hurry up with the dancing Seonghwa 💕: We’re dancing so fast, my love You: Please? Seonghwa 💕: Just be patient for a few more hours for me, doll You: Idk I really want your cock You: But I’ll try Seonghwa 💕: Good girl xx

3:57pm, Feb 02

You: Hwa, please, need you Seonghwa 💕: You NEED me? You: Yes, I do Seonghwa 💕: Patience is a virtue, doll You: Okay, but getting railed within an inch of my life is also a virtue Seonghwa 💕: That doesn’t make sense You: Please? Seonghwa 💕: I’ll be home soon, promise You: Okay, hurry back Seonghwa 💕: I’ll do my best, love

5:41pm, Feb 02

You: You going to be home soon? Seonghwa 💕: Wrapping things up now, shouldn’t be more than a few minutes! You: THANK GOD You: Was considering pulling out the vibrator Seonghwa 💕: Wow Seonghwa 💕: Didn’t know you were disobedient as well as needy. You: I’m not disobedient, you didn’t say anything about the vibrator :) You: What’s a girl to do when her man’s not here to fuck her? Seonghwa 💕: Just be ready for me when I’m home.

The door creaked open, and you practically jumped up from where you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through something on your phone. “Seonghwa!”

“Hi, baby.” He didn’t look at you, locking the door behind him and setting his bag down. “Someone’s been needy today, haven’t they?”

You swallowed, already hungry for whatever he had planned. “Yeah, I have.”

He still didn’t look at you, walking into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. “Bothering me while I’m at work.”

“I’m sorry, Hwa.”

He laughed. “Don’t lie to me, you’re not sorry.”

“I just want you.” You mumbled.

“I know.” He took a sip, finally turning around to face you. “So you’re going to get me. You’re going to get a punishment.”

“A punishment?”

“Mhm.” He tilted his head a bit. “And it was a busy day for me, so I think I deserve someone— something— to take my stress out on, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, of course.” You breathed.

He smiled, that big grin like sunshine. “Perfect, then, baby.” He jerked his head towards the bedroom. “Go.”

You scrambled to stand up and get to the bedroom, getting your clothes off and thrown into a pile in the corner. You laid yourself out on the bed, your lingerie giving you the extra bit of confidence you needed to feel really sexy.

Seonghwa walked into the room like the wolf who knew he had the bunny cornered. You could feel your pulse quicken.

He smiled, all teeth. “Aw, look at you, all ready for me.”

“Yeah.” You sighed.

He leaned over you, tangling his fingers in the straps crisscrossing your chest, taking a moment to admire how they looked on your skin before he yanked towards himself, pulling you up off the bed. You struggled to get your hands under you. “Hwa!”

“Sir.” He said, looking at you darkly. “You know to address me as sir. Don’t make that mistake again.”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded quickly.

He let go, pushing you back onto the bed. “Hands and knees.”

You obeyed his command, getting yourself into position and looking over your shoulder.

“Fuck.” Seonghwa groaned. “So pretty.”

Your breath caught as he moved to the dresser, pulling out your collection of sex toys. He selected a big vibrator and walked back over. “You want this?”

“Yes, sir.”

He laughed, mumbling something to himself as he walked back over to you. He helped you take your lacy underwear off, throwing them aside with the rest of your clothes. You inhaled as you felt the vibrator touch your entrance. Seonghwa teased you with it for a little bit, then, without warning, shoved it inside.

Seonghwa was usually one for foreplay, teasing you till you were soaked, working you up slowly. Starting with just a finger before moving onto a bigger dildo, and then finally his cock. But it seemed today he was down to business as he switched the vibrator onto its highest setting and began to ruthlessly fuck you with it.

You made a sound that might’ve been a moan or a squeak or something in between, your arms shaking at the effort of keeping you up. Seonghwa kept on going, and he started talking. “You know, you talk a lot of game for someone who can barely stay in the position I’ve asked you to. You’d think that after all of your talk and neediness you’d be able to withstand a little more than one vibrator.”

“I can!” You moaned. “I can take it, sir.”

“Oh, can you?” He teased. “Can you take more?”

“Yes!”

He leaned over you and started to play with one of your nipples. “I’m gonna overstimulate you until you’re sobbing and begging me to stop, baby. And then I’m going to keep going.”

Your mouth dropped open in a long moan, and you arched back against him.

“Yeah? You like the sound of that?” His voice was almost soft.

“Yes.” You whined.

“Good girl.” He whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the buzzing of the vibrator.

His pace suddenly turned from fast to punishing, and his hand worked harder at your nipple, overwhelming you with stimulation. It wasn’t long until you were coming with a moan, your legs shaking.

He pulled the vibrator out and pushed you down onto your front before rolling you onto your back. His eyes surveyed your form. “Beautiful, but I need you looking a bit more debauched.”

You smiled, your mind in a bit of a post-orgasm haze. “How do you intend to do that?”

“I intend to fuck your face and your pussy at the same time.”

Your head tilted back with a groan. “Fuck, Seong-sir.” You caught yourself just in time.

He ignored your near slip-up but for a twitch of his lips. “Open your legs.”

You did., opening your mouth too.

“I would tell you you’re a good girl, but you’re just taking a punishment, so doing what’s expected of you doesn’t deserve all that much respect, wouldn’t you agree?”

Before you could respond, Seonghwa pushed the vibrator he’d just been fucking you with into your mouth, muffling a noise from you. The silicone had a strange, nearly bitter taste in your mouth, and you could taste yourself all over it. He repositioned himself, getting in a good place so he could start to fuck you with two fingers at the same time as he was fucking your face. Thankfully, he didn’t turn the vibrator on, but the act was dirty enough that your entire body felt like it was on fire. You shut your eyes, settling into the sensations.

He laughed, a low sound. “Fucking slut. Do you like that? Does that feel good to you?”

You nodded, moaning as he shallowly fucked your mouth.

“Of course it does.” He continued. “You would like being treated like this.”

This continued for a while, and then he went back to the drawer to retrieve more toys, this time a gag and an even bigger dildo.

He strapped the gag onto your face, pulling on it a few times to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere, and then began to fuck you with the dildo. “Look at you, taking it like a whore. That’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? My little fucktoy.”

You moaned as much as the gag would allow. You were starting to get overwhelmed, all of the sensations so potent. You could feel every nerve in your body so strongly, especially the ones between your legs.

You weren’t ready to start begging, yet. It was still on the positive side of strong, not quite edging into overstimulation just yet.

But it hit that point quickly when Seonghwa slid a couple of fingers in beside the dildo, stretching you even wider. You moaned a few times, pointing at the gag to show him you needed to tell him something. He paused for a moment to undo the straps.

“Sir, it’s— it’s so much— it’s too much.”

He studied your face for a moment before his mouth spread into a smile. “No, it’s not, not yet.”

You watched as he undid his belt and took off his pants and boxers, letting his cock free.

You let out a breath looking at it. Seonghwa still had to get off, and leave it to him to get you as sensitive as possible before doing so.

He lined himself up and smirked at you before pushing inside. “Fuck, slut, you’re so tight, you feel so good.”

He let both of you adjust for just a moment before starting to fuck you, his hips snapping back and forth into you. His mouth fell open as he fucked you, mumbling things in your ear. “You feel so good around me”, “such a good fucktoy”. You shivered and moaned with every degrading name and the sensations he gave you with them. He started playing with your nipples again, and your moans turned into whines. It was so overwhelming, you were so overstimulated, but it felt so good, he felt so good.

His thrusts became more erratic, more stuttering, and his hips pushed forward one last time as you felt an unmistakable warmth filling you. You loved it when he came inside, claimed you as his.

He fell limp, and you rolled onto your side, curling into him. His arms wrapped around you, and you thought if you didn’t have to, you’d never move.

But, of course, that wasn’t the case, and after a few moments Seonghwa gently kissed your hair. “Okay, baby, let’s get in the shower.”

“But ‘m cozy.” You grumbled.

“You’ll be even cozier once you’re clean.” He pulled out slowly, his cum spilling all over the sheets. “And we need clean sheets, too.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” You sighed.

“And then we can cuddle after.” He smiled.

“Yes please.” You smiled back. “Love you, Seonghwa.”

“Love you too, baby.”

[adilqalbi]

What's True Love If Not Necromancy?

pairing: ramdevi

tagging: @rc-catalog

word count: 799

tw: light mentions of death

rating: g

summary: a different take on devi waking up for the first time in hertfordshire, finding ram and their conversation.

additional note: A SUPER LATE birthday present for the one and only JB/ @webanglikethat!! Jbaby you're one of the greatest people I have had the honour of knowing. i did my best here but forgive any mistakes. i hope you have an amazing year and whatever troubles you, i hope it goes away asap. i'll always love you (platonically)

Ram hadn't realised just how much he missed Devi until the night she showed up to his room, complaining of a headache. 

She had been unconscious for weeks, but the British physicians had seemingly done their best to help her recover from her injury. 

Now, here she was, sitting on Ram's bed, breathing deeply and massaging her temples. 

Ram sat on the floor at her feet, watching her, his palms resting on her knees, waiting patiently for her to break their silence. 

Finally: ‘’Where are we?’’ Her voice was a whisper, and Ram had to lean in to hear the question. 

He sighed. She didn’t know. Of course, she had been dead, roaming around in the afterlife probably, and now she was back but in a foreign place. 

‘’We are in Britain. Hertfordshire.’’

‘’Hertfordshire? How? This…doesn’t make sense.’’

‘’Shh, I know it doesn’t. I’ll explain everything, rakshasi.’’ Ram ran his hand through Devi’s messy hair, trying to calm her down. 

‘’Please, Ram. Just tell me. I was dead. Dead. What happened?’’

Ram bit his lip. There was no delaying this. She had to know. 

He sat down next to her on the bed, took her hand in his and began. 

‘’You did die. Dixit stabbed you. But, you killed him before your final breath. And, then you died.’’

Devi was silent. 

‘Ram continued: ‘’I figure you would be upset to know that the last time you breathed was in…Christian’s arms.’’ 

‘’By the gods. Dying in the arms of a foreigner.’’ 

‘’Yes, well, it’s okay though. We got you back very quickly.’’

Devi looked up at Ram. ‘’Yes, how did you manage that?’’

Ram rubbed his neck, nervous, ‘’There’s this ritual that can be done. It had never been successful before but it worked with you for some reason.’’

‘’A ritual?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’It had never worked before?’’

‘’No.’’

‘’But, here I am.’’

‘’Indeed.’’

Devi rolled her eyes. ‘’Of course, you would know a ritual. But wasn’t it too big a risk?’’

Ram looked at the bedroom floor, dark oak. He was silent for a few minutes, lost in thought. 

It was risky to have done the ritual. He could have made everything worse. But, he knew one thing was true, which would never change. 

‘’I wanted to do everything in my power to get you back. I don’t think I could live without you.’’

Ram looked directly into Devi’s eyes, ‘’Five years, Devi. Five years of stolen glances, and flirty jokes, and searching for each other in the crowd and yet not being able to talk openly. I’d already suffered for five years, without you by my side.’’ Ram stopped here, his voice failing him. 

Devi completed his thoughts: ‘’And after five years, once we just began taking steps towards…happiness…that’s when I was taken away from the world of the living. And you…’’

‘’Couldn’t bear it. Not for one minute.’’ 

Devi curled her lips inwards, not sure what to say to Ram’s sudden confession. 

‘’I’m sorry, maybe this was too much altogether.’’ Ram quieted down, mentally berating himself for not keeping his mouth shut. He was always so good at it, so what happened now?

The next thing he knew was that Devi was holding his hand tighter. ‘’No, Ram. It’s…I appreciate you so much. I love you dearly. It’s just that…I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting it.’’

Ram raised his eyebrow, askance. 

‘’You were the one who said that what we have can’t be anything more than a secret.’’ Devi smirked, her old self coming back slowly as her mind got used to being alive again. ‘’What changed?’’

Ram looked at her again, her sparkling eyes, her smile. He thought back to how she laughed. 

‘’I want to make you laugh, I think. I want to do that for the rest of my life.’’ 

Devi blinked. She had expected a sarcastic joke, but this was serious. 

She smiled softly again, rubbing her thumb against Ram’s palm. 

‘’Ram…truly…I’d love to laugh with you forever. But-’’

‘’Oh god, there’s a but.’’ 

Devi, ironically laughed, ‘’Listen to me, you rakshasa. But now was not a good time to confess. I came back to life  half an hour ago. I’m pretty sure my body isn’t used to being alive currently. I think I need to sleep, actually. So, if you would please continue your tale of true love later on, I’d love to be able to sleep.’’

‘’True love? What do you mean true lov - wait!’’

It was no use. Devi was already under the covers with her eyes closed.

Under the covers. Sleeping. 

On Ram’s bed. 

In Hertfordshire. 

Where the maids liked to gossip. 

He looked at the empty side of the bed. He thought about it for perhaps one minute. Then he cuddled in right next to his true love.

[revelboo]

Do you like the sims? I feel like you would have fun with creating drama and being whimsical

I’ve never tried the game, but it does look fun. I usually play Destiny 2, though I just started Astrobot

Everything Is Alright Pt 126

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Now? How can you believe him when he chooses now, when you’re obviously angry and hurt, to finally say it? When you can only wonder if he only said it to try and calm you down. And you’re a fool, but you want to believe him so bad. Because right here in his arms feels like home, but he just keeps hurting you. “Do you?”

• Wings dropping at that soft, hurt question, he knows this is his fault. So busy clawing and fighting to keep what little he has, he hadn’t considered your feelings. Wishes Soundwave would leave, but the other mech is keeping his distance, servos flexing as he stares at you. Like he wants to reach out, but is holding back. “I’m not good at this,” he murmurs, voice dipping. Because every time he reaches out, dares to hope, he’s hurt. Every time. “I want to do better, though.” Pulling back some, he tips your chin up, those eyes he loves shiny with tears. Because of him. Again. “You’re the only thing I actually care about. You and our sparkling. I’m trying because I do love you.” Servo swiping over your cheek as a tear falls, he wonders if he’s messed up too much. “I want you to help me make decisions for our future.”

• Our future. Want to believe he means it, that he’s going to change. But you know what his words are worth. “Then show me,” you mutter, resting your head against him. Just so tired of fighting him. Miss when things were simpler. It had never exactly been easy, but it hadn’t always been so awful either. One of his hands cups the back of your head as he shifts and stretches out a hand. Looking up, you realize he’s reaching for Soundwave. Including him even though you’re sure he hates him.

• Hesitating as the Seeker looks at him, expression twisted with displeasure, but reaching out anyway. Making an effort. Ignoring Starscream’s outstretched hand, he moves closer to you, hands sliding against your sides as he cages you between them. Wanting. And you’re looking at him over your shoulder as he bends to brush his masked face against you. There has to be a way around your life span. Knows you don’t like Shockwave, but sooner or later, he’s going to have to be involved. Eventually they’ll need a protoform. That need to reclaim you is an ache in his spark like a jagged wound. His spark sensing you so close and feeling that missing connection that’s a part of him. Something he needs.

• Optics shuttering, Starscream rests his chin on top of your head as Soundwave croons to you. Trines sometimes form out of necessity. For survival. Something he’s aware of, just like Trines that have lost members will sometimes adopt non-Seekers. He’d drifted away from Skywarp and Thundercracker, and he wants to fix that, too. Hadn’t really wanted a new Trine. Especially not Megatron and Soundwave. But he can do this. Prove he’s loyal to you when he’s only ever been loyal to himself. Doing things he hates just to keep what he has. Because you love him even if can’t say it back right now. And he wants to be worthy of that. Wants to trust you.

Previous

[skzhua]

episode 2.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female reader

genre: Fluff, angst, exes-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 4.1k (not proofread yet!)

warnings: Cursing, post-breakup feelings, jealousy.

summary: while kitty explores her bi awakening, you try to navigate how to deal with being friends with min ho again, and it's not quite how you'd like it to be. especially not when stella is around.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

"My world got so much bigger because of you and because of Simon," Kitty read as you and Q laid in her bed, as if she was reading bedtime stories to you both. "Jina has to know something about Simon. Why else would my mom mention him in her letter?"

"Yuri emailed her mom," you pointed out.

"Yeah, but Jina's at some wellness retreat and doesn't have any service," she sighed before grunting. "It is killing me to be this close to finding the guy that my mom was so in love with that she moved here against her parents' wishes..."

She kept on rambling on about her frustrations and wonders, meanwhile Q was attempting to make sense out of it. As for you, you couldn't focus much. Eyes on the phone, you were still hoping someone would text you any moment now. You got up from Kitty's bed and dropped yourself on yours, letting out a whine in the process.

"Y/N, stop thinking about it," Q said.

You shook your head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kitty hummed. "So there is somebody more dramatic than me!"

You all heard laughs coming from the other room, and Kitty rolled her eyes.

"I guess Yuri and Juliana are still in their honeymoon phase, uh?" Q commented.

"They're always tickle-fighting!" Kitty exclaimed, a fake smile plastered on her face. "We basically have to tear them apart for curfew checks so the RA doesn't figure out they're a couple."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Oh, not at all! Their squeals of joy act as a helpful reminder for me to stay focus on my goals. It'll get rid of this silly little crush-"

Her alarm went off went off and she sighed in relief. "Thank God."

You forced yourself to get your butt up and yell "Okay, guys, break it up! Ten minutes until curfew check!"

"Thanks, Y/N!" they yelled back.

The three of you got out the room to lead Q out the door, only to be welcomed with the sight of Yuri and Juliana cuddling. While you were so happy for your friend, you couldn't help but feel bad for Kitty. I mean, you were pretty much in the same situation.

"You're really going to subject yourself to an entire semester of that?" Q asked.

"You know what they say," Kitty responded. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?"

Unconvinced, he nodded. "Right. Something's telling me this is just killing you, though, so... Good night!" he waved at you both before walking out the door.

"Girls!" Yuri called out as soon as the door closed. "You're always hiding out in your room, come hang out with us!"

"Yeah, come distract us," Juliana added. "Otherwise, an RA might walk in and catch us making out."

"Oh," Yuri said in a teasing voice.

"Sure," Kitty responded, uncomfortable.

The couple began to tease each other with jokes and stuff, making you both even more uncomfortable. They ended up deciding to hide in their bedroom, and so did you in yours. Assuming Kitty would follow, you let the door open. When you noticed she wasn't coming with you, you turned on your heels to head back to stopped yourself as soon as you heard Yuri's voice. You were never the kind to eavesdrop, doing it a little wouldn't be so bad, right?

"What about you? You going to bed?" Yuri asked.

"Soon," your friend replied. "Y/N and I are just going to wait for Stella to get home. She's on her big date with Min Ho."

Your heart tightened as a short silence fell between your friends.

Yuri was the one to break it. "I don't know why Y/N gave her his number."

"Well, she was pretty mad at him. Maybe it's her way to move on."

"But they were getting on so well at the barbecue the other night. I'm sure I even saw a spark between them."

"You heard Y/N, though. He did some fucked up shit."

They were right. Why did you give her his number if you were hoping so bad he'd text you, telling you how boring she was and how he wished you were there to save him?

That text never came.

Chores. That was your punishment for staying with the boys last semester. In the end, you were also discovered to be one of the roommates, hency why you were mopping around a classroom with the whole gang: Dae, Q, Kitty... and Min Ho, of course. So far, avoiding Min Ho had been going pretty well. You caught up on a lot of stuff with Dae, such as how he had been dealing with the break up and how things were going at his place. You did manage to get your mind away from your problems for a short amount of time. It was also a good reminder that Dae was an excellent friend.

"You're avoiding him," he nodded his head towards Min Ho.

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"He really does feel bad about your argument."

You let a breath out. "I know that you're trying to ease things between us, and I appreciate it. But I want to heal in my own way first."

He smiled apologetically. "I get it."

And as if the world was doing everything in its power to make your life miserable, the man in question decided to mop right at your feet. And as to make any worse, the guy was intentionally poking your feet every two seconds. While you glared at him as a sign to stop, he could only smile lightly, and do it again. The silent interaction went on for a few minutes, until he cleared his throat, grabbing your attention.

"I'm just not that into Stella."

Your eyes grew bigger. "Pardon me?"

"I mean, she's cute. Don't get me wrong. But, maybe she's a bit too nice?"

You scoffed. "Is this where you're the playboy wanting to corrupt the good girl, and you're just mad because you're not getting anywhere with her?"

He threw his head back, letting a laugh out. "Please, I already did that with you." Instant blush. "I just think she's boring. Why are you so focused on my love life anyway, pup?"

It took everything in you to not let it show you were hearing exactly what you wanted to hear. "You tell me, you're the one who brought it up. But to answer your question, I'm not," you faked his accent.

"I actually miss the two of you bickering like this," Dae commented, reminding you he had been there the entire time.

"Am I still the only one who's irritated by her?" Min Ho groaned. "It's her and Covey's fault that we're cleaning the building for my dad's vanity project."

Q chuckled. "Guys, there could be way worse punishments. Like your dad forcing everyone to take one of his arts electives. Except for me! Your boy got an exemption. The star of KISS' track team needs to focus on getting gold at regionals."

"I'm taking Entertainment Management," Kitty informed.

"Yeah, same. Kind of sounds interesting," you affirmed.

"Me too," Min Ho said as he winked at you, making you blush again. "It's the only one without singing or dancing."

"I signed up for Advanced Voice," Dae informed casually.

Kitty turned around slowly, doubt on her face. "You sing? How did I not know this?"

"Because we were long-distance, and it's weird to serenade someone over the phone."

"I think we should hear something," Q encouraged as the four of you positioned yourself to be his audience.

"Now, like, here?"

"No, next year," Q joked.

"Yes," you and Min Ho said in unison.

"I wanna hear it," Q said.

"Yes, right now," Kitty rushed him.

In an instant, Dae jumped on top of a desk amd began to sing his heart out. Frankly, it was one of the prettiest voices you've heard. If this was his hidden talent, who knew what else he was capable of? The fun was cut short once Principal Lee walked in the room, visibly bothered byt the concert.

"This is a punishment for secretly living with Ms. Covey and Ms. Park last semester." At the sound, you straightened your posture, now face to face with the principal. "No fun!"

The moment you thought you were done for, Min Ho's father walked in with some of his employees following behind. You exchanged glances with Min Ho, who shrugged as to show he was as perplexed as you were.

"Okay, kids, you're dismissed. My cleaning crew will take care of it," Mr. Moon announced, Principal Lee shaking his head in disapproval.

"Wait, you can't overrule me on student matters."

"Renovations must begin today to stay on schedule, unless you also want my donation delayed."

Mr. Lee paused before his shoulders dropped in defeat. "Students, you're dismissed. For today."

The adults left one after the other until only the five of you were left in the room once again. It was a matter of seconds before you exploded in laughter, feeling somewhat relieved as well.

"I have never seen anyone talk to Professor Lee like that," Dae commented.

"I mean, he kind of ate," Q added.

Kitty squealed. "Mr. Moon forever!"

Min Ho let out a chuckle before he went on to gather the cleaning materials. You grabbed some yourself and left with him to put them back where they belong. You wanted to speak, say something. Only, nothing came to your mind that was slightly interesting. Even less after learning he had close to no interest in Stella. For the few eye contacts you had, small smiles were exchanged. But again, nothing more.

As your aunt told you, you stopped by her office before going to your Entertainment Management class. While you were having a harsh return, you did realize you hadn't visited her since school started. Knocking at her office's door, she immediately yelled for you to come in. As you stepped in, you immediately noticed the bags beneath her eyes.

"Are you killing yourself with work again?"

She might have looked exhausted, but she didn't let it stop her from laughing at your comment. "I'm trying to slow down, but you know me. And with Jina gone, things are working out differently this semester."

"Tell me about it... The curfew checks are getting annoying."

She nodded, and then picked a letter up. "I'm glad you came. I wanted to show this to you."

You took the piece of paper from her before reading the information on it. Frowning, you held it up to her again. "It's not addressed to me, it's for you."

"I know, but it's from your father. While cleaning this week, I rediscovered it and thought you might want to have a look at it."

Your expression softened and you took her hand, grateful. "Thank you. Anyway, I just wanted to see you a bit and let you know that things are settling down."

"I'm glad. Have you seen Min Ho? Seriously, that guy is handsome! What a shame it had to end."

You rolled your eyes. "And that is my cue to leave for class."

You could hear her from behind as you left as she was trying to either apologize or reinforce her point. Either way, you were far too gone to hear any of it, and you went to join Kitty at the cafeteria. Phone in her hands, she was trying to contact another retreat center in hopes Jina would be there. You started to walk and she mindlessly followed, phone now glued to her ear. They didn't answer until you reached class.

"Hey, could you connect me to Jina Lim's room? She's a guest at your resort," she spoke but her disappointed look was all it took for you to understand the call went nowhere. "Oh, my mistake. She must be staying at another property. Thank you."

As she hung up, you patted her shoulder. "You'll get a hold of her. Want me to ask Yuri?"

She groaned. "I did already, but she can't even reach her mom herself, so I guess it makes sense I'm not getting anywhere."

As you scanned the room to find a seat, your eyes landed on Stella, who just happened to be sitting next to Min Ho. The class you were almost excited to attend was now definitely the one you'd hate the most. Still, Min Ho gestured the seat next to him so you allowed yourself to take the spot, and Kitty sat on your other side.

"Hey, do you know who our teacher is?" she asked the pair.

"I'm just glad I won't have to perform. I'm still scared from playinh the donkey in m church's Nativity play," Stella replied. "But I'm guessing, you know, with your dad, you'll have a record deal, blockbuster movie out soon?"

You could only roll your eyes — though you did it mentally. She didn't know him, and it showed. Your inner comments were confirmed as soon as Min Ho opened his mouth.

"Yeah, not my thing."

"Imagine," you said in an ironic tone, making him chuckle lightly.

The door finally opened, revealing who your teacher would be. You were unsurprised to see Mr. Moon step in, as flamboyant as ever.

"Good afternoon," he greeted.

Min Ho' glanced at him for a second only to look at you with panicked eyes. "Oh my gosh."

"And congratulations. Out of all the new arts courses offered at KISS, you lucky few have stumbled into a masterclass." his dad continued.

"Masterclass, my ass," Min Ho said under his breath, you being the only person to laugh at his comment.

"But, I have news for you. Being a successful manager isn't something one can teach."

"Then why is this a class?" Min Ho commented once more, looking so done.

"It comes down to trusting your gut. And today, you will determine who will earn a spot in Advanced class and who will get their mic cords cut."

Kitty raised her hand. "Uh, Mr. MOON, i don't know enough about singing to be an effective-"

"Knowledge is do overrated," he cut her off. "My strongest opinions are on things I know almost nothing about."

"And that's my dad..." Min Ho sighed.

"I really wonder why you didn't want me to meet him," you joked only to receive a glare.

"Y/N, are you seeing the same man that I am seeing right now?" he gestured to his father.

"Yeah, an icon."

He huffed in frustration, but you could only laugh more at his reaction. As you were about to say something else, you met Stella's eyes. She was obviously telling you to back off. Who was she to tell you so? If anything, she should be grateful you gave her Min Ho's number even if he was your ex.

"Let's bring in the aspiring singers!" Mr Moon exclaimed.

Class went by quickly and, frankly, your feedbacks were written half-consciously. For most of them, you wrote some sweet comments with one or two flaws. Except for Dae, because he is a friend who just happens to be an excellent singer. At the end of the class, Mr. Moon went over everyone's feedback quickly — noting that Stella was being too kind and that Min Ho was a perfect critic — before class was dismissed.

"Y/N, you coming?" Min Ho said the moment the bell rang.

"Where?"

He shook his head in annoyance. "Just, come with me."

"Alright, my bad," you groaned.

Putting your belongings in your bag, you followed him out. You could hardly catch up to him as he was running out that room as fast as he could.

"Would you slow down?"

"Stop whining. I forgot how irritating that sound of yours is," he said in a huff.

"Well, why did you want me to leave class with you if I'm oh-so fun to be around?" you asked, growing impatient.

He stopped, making you almost run into his back. "Avoiding my dad and Stella. I feel comfortable with you so I guess you were my easy way out."

You took his hand — only as a friend — and rubbed it in a reassuring way. "You'll get through the semester just fine, I promise."

He let a chuckle out. "Well, if you and Covey are there, probably not."

You slapped his arm. "That's what I get for being nice?"

Satisfied his mocking worked, he laughed some more. "Is coffee going to make up for it?"

You perked an eyebrow. "Am I paying for it or-"

"On me," he said as if it was obvious.

Satisfied, you dragged him behind as you still had a grip on his hand. With a few protests, he tried to break away but gave in soon enough since you were clearly not going to let go of him.

Maybe he missed the two of you bickering like this as well.

It would have been a fun moment between you two if it wasn't for Mihee thanking Min Ho for getting into Advanced Voice which got Min Ho to go speak about it with his dad who kind of got into his head as he showered him with hopes and compliments... All that, and you had to follow him around like a literal lost puppy.

"I'll go," you said once you left his father.

He frowned. "What do you mean? We barely had time for ourselves."

"Exactly," you exhaled before clearing your throat. "I get this wasn't your fault, but I don't want to be your pet, following you while you do your stuff. That's what I did in L.A. and I don't it to happen again."

"Y/N," he tried to interfere but you didn't let him.

"And, please, let down Stella easily. She's nice, but she'll still give me death glares if you keep leading her on."

And with that, you left him there.

Kitty threw a dress on your bed... while you were laying in bed. You took the piece of clothing, looking at it up and down, and stood up to put it back in the wardrobe — where it belonged.

"Oh, come on!"

You threw yourself back on your mattress, pulling your phone out again. "I said I was not going."

"You're leaving me alone?"

You gave her a look. "It's a date, Kitty. The purpose of a date is to go one on one. Not with your friend as an extra."

She groaned. "But how am I not going to make a fool of myself?"

You shrugged, still on your phone. "Yuri and Juliana will be there too, no? They're getting ready as we speak."

Distressed, she took a huge pile of clothes from her drawer and dropped it on her own bed. "Help me out instead of making fun of my misery."

You ended up doing so because, well, you were her friend and you also did enjoy dressing her up. However, as soon as she was dolled up, you were back to being a couch potato. You didn't even hear the girls leave, and with Stella being gone wherever she was, you were left alone in the dorm.

Hunger got the best of you eventually, which made you check in the refrigerator what food you had left. Eggs and fizzy drinks were not going to fill your belly, so you took it upon yourself to change into a decent outfit. Once dressed, it was time to head to the department store near school so you could buy instant ramen for the hundredth time already.

Min Ho: Can we talk?

You saw the message, but ignored it. You had one goal in mind: food. While the fresh air hit you as soon as you opened the door, you got used to it quickly and rushed yourself to the store. Only then you spotted a familiar figure. Min Ho, again.

"For fuck's sake," you cursed under your breath as you tried to act as if you didn't spot him yet.

Thankfully, he was on his phone. You checked yours and he was, indeed, in the process of writing you another message. You almost found his attempt at reaching you cute. There was a lot of debating happening in your brain whether to text him back, come up to him, or even offer for him to go get food with you. The universe decided for you when his father appeared, walking furiously towards his son.

"Mihee dropped Advanced Voice," he said, anger spread through his entire body language. "You tipped her off, didn't you?"

"Well-" Min Ho started.

"You went around my back just to protect her feelings."

Again, you hated eavesdropping, but with how loud Mr. Moon was speaking, he didn't make it any easier. You poorly tried to hide behind a tree closeby. While you didn't like where this was going, you couldn't intervene. Not yet.

"I don't know why I thought you had what it takes to be a manager. I gave you a chance to step up and impress me," he continued, growing angrier by the second. "And instead, you threw it away for some loser who can't even sing."

"Don't talk to him like that."

Min Ho turned around and his eyes immediately softened when they landed on you. The words left your mouth without your knowledge, giving you no choice but to approach the duo.

"This is a private conversation between father and son."

"Well, you're a crappy father. Not just from what I am seeing right now, but also from everything I've heard about you. Min Ho does have what it takes to be a manager, more than you do with this tired Simon Cowell routine from 2002,"

You looked at Min Ho real quick to see if he would try to stop you, but he was speechless. Letting you steal the show, he was almost admiring you.

You took it as a sign to continue. "For a man who claims to have his finger on the pulse, you should know that bullying is so over, Mr. Moon. It's really a miracle you haven't been canceled."

His jaw clenched. "You certainly have a lot to say, don't you?" is all he said before taking off.

Not a sound could be heard after that. You didn't dare to look at Min Ho, not after the stunt you pulled. You had no idea what took over you.

"I'm sorry... I-" you started but left, embarrassed.

Only, you were stopped by a hand grabbing you by the arm. "No, wait," he said, turning your body to face him. "Y/N, where did that come from?"

"I don't know, it sort of just... came out? Seeing you being yelled at, I just snapped. And with everything you told me about him, I don't want you to suffer more than you already have."

He took both of your hands, grazing on your skin with his thumbs. "I've never had someone who'd stand up for me that way, so thank you."

You nodded shyly. "I just hope I didn't make things worse."

"You did quite the opposite. I think you impressed him. I bet he thinks you're a real badass," he chuckled. "It's a shame it's when we're not together anymore. He would have approved."

You didn't know what to respond, so you nodded again. "I should go, then."

His grip got firmer, a sign he didn't want you to leave. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Sure."

He gulped. "I'm sorry for kind of using you as some decoration I can bring wherever I want. That's never what you were to me and it will never be."

By default, your bodies kept getting closer to one another. Everything around you was like fog to you, there was only him and the sound of your heartbeat. A voice in your head told you to get away, to learn from the mistakes of the past. Another was screaming for you to play your cards right, and let him be back in your life again. In a word, divided. That's how you were feeling.

You raised an eyebrow, now curious. "What am I to you, then?"

"Hopefully, this."

Before either of you could process, you were kissing. It truly felt like your lips were meant to be together as they moved in sync. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his were placed on your waist. It felt... like home. And you hated that you loved it so much.

What you hated even more was seeing Stella behind him once you pulled away.

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[strawbearyxx]

unexpected comfort— kang dae-ho x reader . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

word count: 2.4k (at first i was planning for 500… yeah no)

warnings: mentions of death + anxiety

pairing: gender neutral!reader x kang dae-ho (if there’s any hint of fem!reader i’m sorry)

no nsfw!

this is my first time writing a fic like this !! any feedback is accepted and lmk if you want a part 2! i hope y’all like it ! dae-ho is such a sweetie :3

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for the first time since you arrived, you regretted joining the games. you really needed that prize money, but after seeing player 196 and many others being shot during red light green light, all you wanted to do was go home. player 456, seong gi-hun, kept shouting at the players to stop moving and calm down, but you were too overwhelmed. how could you calm down when people were dying right by your side? suddenly you were grabbed by a pair of strong hands— “get behind me, we need to stay in lines, you heard him,” the man said. you nodded and clung onto his shoulders, desperately wanting to survive. you moved in the line, shaking violently in fear. the man in front of you— player 388, his jacket read— touched your arm in comfort. although he was only slightly trembling compared to your shaking, you could sense a mutual understanding between yourselves. as the line moved forward closer to the finish line, your worry dissipated. you were able to drown out the loudspeaker and gunshots by focusing on the shoulders of the man in front of you and the second pair of hands that clung to your waist from behind. after what seemed like an eternity, you reached the finish and immediately collapsed to your knees in relief.

as you were led back into the main room, you immediately laid down on the bed you’d claimed. you wanted, no, needed, to be home. you could’ve died back there, and there were only more games to come. the eerie voice read off the numbers of players who were killed… player 419, player 048, player 196… you shook your head, trying to escape from the visual of their deaths. the bed beside you suddenly creaked— startling you a little at first. eager for some company, you lifted your head and sat up to see who it was. your eyes widened— not only was he the the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, his jacket read “player 388,” meaning he was the one who had saved your life in the first game. you opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off immediately— “player 127, huh. you were behind me in the first game, weren’t you!!” he smiled. you nodded slowly, “yeah, that was me. thank you for saving my life, i was really panicking back there.” you smile and laugh nervously, while he brushes your words off. “it’s nothing!! i was a marine, i’m a little used to it,” he says with a wide grin. he looked unusually happy for someone stuck in this death trap of a game. “i’m dae-ho, kang dae-ho, what’s your name?” you tell him your name, starting to feel comforted once again by his presence. however, he was so cute that he made you anxious at the same time. you learned that he had four older sisters (and was a god at gonggi) and that he was in the marines. you sensed that he was proud of it, he’d already mentioned it more times than you could count— but you found it endearing nonetheless. he was so vulnerable with you and you’d only just met! you opened up to him about the reason why you were here— you took out more loans than you could handle and couldn’t afford your home anymore. this was your last resort, hoping to win your life and your family’s respect back. dae-ho seemed touched by your story, immediately laying a hand on your back. “when did he get so close?” you thought to yourself, while dae-ho continued to rub circles on your back with his thumb. you turned slightly red, ever so conscious of his touch, but still relaxed slightly. “don’t worry,” he whispered. “we’ll make it, we’ll win this and get out, okay?” you smiled back at him, looking into his eyes. “we’re going to make it, i trust you to protect me and i’ll do the same for you. it’s nice to have someone to rely on in a place like this.” dae-ho opened his mouth to respond to you, but your moment was cut short from the familiar monotonous voice coming from the overhead speakers. “attention players, please make your way towards the center of the room for voting.”

you and dae-ho stood up, curious about the voting. “what could we be voting on? is this the second game? i thought it wasn’t supposed to happen until tomorrow,” dae-ho questioned. “maybe they’re splitting us into teams or something. at least that’s what gi-hun is telling us,” you gestured to gi-hun once again screaming to the players in the middle of the room. “i trust him. he seems a little crazy, but he was right about the first game, you know?” dae-ho nodded in agreement. “let’s get on his side, he knows what he’s doing. we’ll be safer there.” the voice on the loudspeaker started calling out the player’s numbers from 456 down. “look, he voted x,” dae-ho whispered as gi-hun pressed the red button. “let’s go with that one,” you said as dae-ho nodded enthusiastically. “the red x means we get to leave. i want to get out of here, even if it means going back to the life i had before. i’d rather do that than die.” more players voted, their numbers being called out one by one. “player 388,” called the voice, and a loud buzz rang out as dae-ho pressed the red button labeled “x.” soon after, it was your turn, pressing x to join dae-ho. you don’t want to admit it, but you’ve taken quite a liking to dae-ho— and not just because he offered to protect you. you needed to get your feelings under control before he or anyone else noticed. you didn’t want to him to change his mind about protecting you and sticking together or even worse, take advantage of it and betray you. despite gi-hun’s words, the “o” side won, meaning they would have to stay the night and participate in a second game. you looked to the other side, seeing the voters cheer. “greedy bastards,” dae-ho whispers in your ear. “they could care less if people die, they just want the money for themselves. they’ll turn on each other eventually.“ you nod in agreement, wishing you were able to leave this hellhole. at least you have dae-ho by your side.

the players were then served dinner— if you could call it that. you pushed around the soggy rice, trying to coerce yourself into eating. dae-ho sits beside you finishing off his tray. he encourages you to eat, telling you “you need energy for the next game tomorrow. finish it, please.” you oblige, spooning the rice into your mouth despite your lack of hunger. the players wander aimlessly around the room, some already forming groups. “x” and “o” voters stay separate, not wanting to mingle with anyone who voted against them. gi-hun and some other players, player 390, player 001, and player 222, were gathered around a nearby bed. setting his tray down, dae-ho asks, “do you want to go over and join them? a group of two will never last against these big groups of five or six.” you agree, and dae-ho pulls you up from the bed and walks with you over to gi-hun’s group. you blush, not expecting him to grab your hand like that. “why is he affecting me this way?” you wonder, “it’s only casual touches. anyone would do this, and here i am turning red over him touching my hand. i have to get it together, i’m in a literal death game.” unknowingly, you appear visibly frustrated at your emotions which only causes dae-ho to ask you what’s wrong. and dae-ho, as you’ve now realized, is a very touchy person— he comforts with his hands and his words. so naturally, he starts rubbing your shoulder, assuming you’re frustrated at the voting results. “it’s nothing, dae-ho, i’m… i’m just thinking that’s all.” “alright,” he responds, “but just know i’m here if you ever need anything. and really, i do mean it.” he smiles again, the image already cemented in the back of your mind, and you can’t help but turn even more red at his words. you really hope he doesn’t notice. “thank you dae-ho, i really appreciate it,” you try to sound as relieved as possible to conceal your flustered state. gi-hun and player 001, who you learned was named young-il, suddenly started talking to dae-ho, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. you internally scold yourself, knowing relying too much on someone else could hurt you— or in this game, even kill you. but dae-ho was too tempting; you already missed his touch and his soothing words. you both joined gi-hun’s group, which hopefully would distract you.

until a few hours later, when dae-ho suggested you sleep in the same bed. “gi-hun said people fought at night in the previous games. they’d be less likely to attack us if we slept in pairs, right? look at gi-hun and young-il. they’re sleeping in the same bed to protect each other!!” dae-ho says excitedly. “dae-ho i don’t think that’s the reason why they’re—“ he cuts you off, saying how he “wants you to be safe” and “needs to make it through the night in one piece.” he seems really excited to protect you and you find it extremely cute. your face gets hot at even the thought of sleeping next to dae-ho, images of his arms wrapped around you already flooding into your mind. “hey, you listening?” dae-ho questions. “we have to pick a bed soon, 10 minutes until lights out!” you catch the tail end of the announcement over the loudspeaker and realize he’s right. “okay, let’s go to this one!” you say as you point to a bed on the second level. “it’s high up, so we can see if anyone’s coming. plus, gi-hun is keeping watch close by, so he’ll be able to warn us!!” dae-ho nods and starts climbing into the bed. you follow, swallowing your anxiousness as you imagine sleeping next to dae-ho. you make it up the ladder and lie down next to him, your heart rate quickening ever so slightly.

you’re hyper aware of his presence— you’re able to feel his heart beating and his chest rising and falling with every breath. you tense up as you feel his face brush against your neck. he seems to sense this tension, soothing you by saying “we’ll be alright, we’re gonna make it out, yeah? we can protect each other.” you nod, telling him “yeah, we’re gonna be alright.” your voice shakes slightly, you’re struggling to hide the fact that dae-ho’s closeness is making you more flustered than you’ve ever been. by now, dae-ho notices the effect he has on you and wants to fluster you even more. he’s smiling to himself— he thinks you’re so cute and loves that he can get you this worked up just by being next to you. he wraps his arms around you slowly, asking “is this okay? you seem stressed and i thought you might need some comfort.” you squeak out “yes dae-ho” and lean into his touch, grasping at his hands with your own. you give into your inner desires, saying “this is more than okay, i really like this dae-ho,” while he holds you even tighter against him. you have a sudden urge to turn around and kiss him, but you hold back purely because he feels so nice wrapped around you like this— you don’t want to ruin it. dae-ho runs his fingers through your hair enjoying how it’s silky and smooth to the touch. he plants quick kisses on your head, speaking softly to you in between them— “we’ll be okay, you know that? i’ll always be here for you, i’ll always protect you.” you are a blushing mess at this point. yes, the comfort’s nice, but he’s gotta know what he’s doing by now. dae-ho keeps mumbling sweet things into your ear, and all you can do is nod and continue to melt into his touch.

the lights go out, yet dae-ho shows no signs of wanting to sleep. he continues cuddling you, arms never leaving your waist unless running a hand through your hair. you’ve become relaxed, already used to his soft touch. you eventually turn around to face him, looking into his wide eyes in the dim light. you can’t help but notice how pretty he looks like this— his lips are slightly parted and his hair is free from his usual half-up half-down style, a few strands hanging into his face. you gently brush them away, giving yourself a clear view of his handsome features. you make eye contact for a short moment in a comfortable silence, the only sounds to be heard were your soft breaths. dae-ho leans closer, your nose brushing against his own. you feel his breath against your skin and shudder slightly at the warmth of it. “can i try something?” he whispers, looking into your eyes again. “please dae-ho,” you whisper back almost immediately. you need dae-ho’s lips on yours, you need to feel his hands in your hair again— you just need him. dae-ho leans in, and your lips connect in a gentle but passionate kiss. you savor the moment, not wanting to ever let go. your hands find his hair and you press yourself closer to him, needing to be enveloped by his warmth. dae-ho continues the kiss, deepening it ever so slightly. you drag your hands out of his hair and caress his waist, rubbing it as dae-ho continues to kiss you. after a moment he pulls away panting slightly, the biggest smile on his face. you can’t help but grin back, not expecting dae-ho to want you that badly. “dae-ho…” you whisper, needing more of him. he notices your desperation, and kisses you again, but only for a split second. “shh, we have another game tomorrow. we need rest,” he says as he smirks at you. “see, everyone’s asleep.” “not gi-hun and young-il!” you counter, giggling slightly. dae-ho looks over and sees that gi-hun wasn’t the only one who was keeping watch— he actually had young-il by his side. “okay well besides them,” dae-ho laughs, “but we still need rest!! we can fall asleep in each other’s arms. you know, i’ve been thinking about that since the moment i saw you.” you blush, not expecting dae-ho to share your fantasies. “dae-ho i’ve been thinking about that too,” you say as you bury yourself into his chest. dae-ho wraps his arms around you once again, holding you tight while stroking your back. you fall asleep almost immediately, and dae-ho kisses your forehead before falling asleep himself. you sleep soundly in his embrace, almost forgetting about the games completely.

the end~

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[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hello! 👋 Thank you for your writing and effort. Can I request a story about reader and Donna having an affair? Maybe reader is Cassandra's gf but Cassandra doesn't treat her right like she flirts with other girls in front of reader and stuff like that? In the process of Cassandra sending reader to run her errands to her aunt Donna house they fall in love. Considering that Donna is super possessive and jealous everytime she sees reader they make love and is a struggle letting reader go back to the castle

One day Donna finds a hickey on reader's neck and goes mad because reader had promised it that Cassandra and her weren't intimate anymore (Cassandra was busy with other girls). Reader tries to explain her that she didn't enjoy it but Donna in her madness and jealousy kicks her out. After that when Donna comes to her sense she realizes she can't live without reader and is willing to fight for her so she goes to the castle and lady dimitrescu thinking her sister has just come to visit her invite her to have dinner. At the dinner table she sees reader and Cassandra but reader looks sad and pale. At one point in the night Donna notices Cassandra and reader fighting and Cassandra about to raise her hand on reader so Donna sees red and punches her niece. That's all the truth comes out and lady dimistrecu having noticed how her daughter treated reader scolds her terribly in front of everybody and let reader go with Donna. G!p Donna is that's okay?

Yess!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the delay, and the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Your arms, my safe place

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, castle maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, a bit of smut, Minors DNI, angst, dark themes, (Y/N) is Cassandra's gf, but things don't go well... mentions of abuse?

Word count: 9,796, too long, sorry

Summary: You wanted to be with her, but fate has another plans for you...

N/A: HELLO AGAIN PEOPLE!!! I'm back as you see!!! Thank you for all your support all this time, you're wonderful!!! I'm here again, but I'm afraid I'm unable to update everyday, but I'll do it when I can, I guess maybe 3 times a week!!! So... Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :)) Oh, and sorry about the language mistakes!!!

Donna's hands slipped under your uniform, untying the ties that held it to your body while you worked on the buttons of the blouse of her dress. Your head spun and the excitement was overwhelming.

Determined to leave behind anything that would interrupt the moment, you broke free from your thoughts when your hands brushed her skin, when your fingers unclasped her bra with a quick movement.

Donna began to become wild, dominant, as if the simple act of claiming you, of making love to you, reminded her that you were one step closer to stop being Cassandra's, to being only hers.

After all, feeling like you were hers wasn't the same as being so. Donna knew that, and it tormented her.

A few intense kisses on your neck brought you back to reality, making you moan, close your eyes, and forget about your worries. Her lips felt soft on your skin, her teeth barely grazed you, but made you tremble.

“D-Donna, b-be careful,”  you said, making the brunette move away from your neck to slide her hands under your legs and lift you romantically, placing you gently on the bed.

“Mm?” she murmured distractedly, bringing her hips closer to yours, making you notice her imprisoned erection pressing against your body and forcing you to emit an involuntary moan.

“N-not the neck, okay? You could leave a mark on me and Ca…” you said with a slightly clearer voice, putting your hands on her shoulders and causing her expression to suddenly harden.

“Shut up,” Donna snapped at you with a cold, angry look, hitting the mattress with her fist. “D-Don't say her name,” she hissed, looking away and accelerating her breathing.

You rushed to fix things as best you could: cupping her face in your hands.

“Shh, darling, forgive me, I didn't mean… Donna, my love, I'm sorry, okay?” you said tenderly, to which the lady closed her eye and let the air out of her lungs slowly.

“I know, I… It's just that I…” she stammered without looking directly at you.

“Come here,” you said, bringing your lips closer to hers, kissing the lady to distract her from the uncomfortable truth of the situation, one that seemed increasingly difficult for the doll maker to assimilate.

The insecurities were silenced with the wet sounds of your kisses, with gasps and sighs that increased with each look, word, whisper, caress…

Your hands sought the warmth of her pale skin, her perfect breasts, her arousal struggling to free itself from the black fabric of her underwear… That was more than enough for Donna to roar anxiously, grabbing your legs and freeing her shaft, bringing it closer to your wetness.

Donna was in a hurry, her body was in a hurry to claim you and her thrusts began to move your body while you closed your eyes, noticing how your walls stretched and pleasure began to invade you.

Your hands moved erratically as she claimed your body desperately, moaning in a very low voice, grunting every time she felt you squeeze her. They were quick movements, but when you opened your eyes you felt relief; relief to see her eyes looking at you as always, with love, with tenderness, in a way Cassandra never did.

You could have lost yourself in her perfectly controlled thrusts, in all the sensations that ran through your body, but something prevented you from doing so, forcing you to focus, to finish that forbidden act as soon as possible.

“Ti amo, (Y/N),” the lady whispered, stopping to kiss you slowly, to check that her haste, her eagerness wasn’t hurting you.

“I love you, Donna,” you answered, with a melancholic smile. “D-Don't stop, please.”

She obeyed with a timid nod, resuming her movements as she separated your legs even further, taking absolute control.

The moans, the creaks of the bed accompanied your feelings until the pleasure was too intense, releasing an orgasm, revealing that your body was ready to enjoy the woman you loved, without thinking about anything else.

Her release came soon after, warming your body, caressing your walls in a wet and lustful way. Afterwards, Donna pulled away with a grunt, lying down beside you to begin your favorite part of those visits.

Yes, sex was incredible, but what you really enjoyed were those moments embraced, naked, those tender smiles of Lady Beneviento looking at you, those kisses soaked with the sweat of the effort of loving you… Yes, that was your favorite part.

After a few comforting moments of silence, you inched closer to her naked body, burying your head in her chest as her delicate hands lovingly caressed your hair.

“I could lose myself in your arms,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from the passion that seemed to still reverberate off the bedroom walls.

Donna laughed softly, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead, to brush your hair away from your face as you sighed. You wondered if maybe that was her favorite part too.

Your hands tangled together, absentmindedly playing with each other as the lady in black hummed an unfamiliar tune. Your gaze focused on her soft, fine hands, contrasting with the roughness of yours.

“You know? I find incredible that we have come to this…” you sighed, losing yourself again in her gaze. “I remember the first time I came… You closed the door in my face…”

“Mm, it's true,” the brunette said, amused, with a touch of shame in her voice. “I wasn't used to visits.”

“Oh,” you continued joking, sensually bringing your lips closer to hers, without kissing them, leaving the lady frustrated, teasing her.

“Now I can't live without them,” she answered, thus beginning a fight of kisses.

“Donna,” you said, trying to get away from her addictive lips with amusement.

 “(Y/N),” she said shortly after, sitting on the bed and looking away from you for a moment.

“What's wrong?” you asked, noticing how her body separated from yours, creating a horrible feeling of cold and abandonment on your skin.

“Mm, niente, io…”

“Hey! Are you done yet?! Angie doesn't like to be alone…” A sing-song voice sounded from behind the door, breaking that tense calm, that moment of lucidity from the lady in black, those words, which, surely, would start a conversation that you didn't feel like having, not that day.

“Angie…” Donna hissed, shaking her head and rolling her eye. “Go away!”

“I don't want to! Come here now! I'm bored!” the doll shrieked, with a mocking melody in her voice.

You laughed at the doll's always irreverent attitude, and at the embarrassment that it produced in its owner.

Donna looked at you and her smile also widened, joining you in a tender and soft laugh, resting her forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), you know the way she is,” she said amused, shaking her head and tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Poor Angie,” you mocked in a low voice while the doll tried to get your attention with soft knocks on the door. “Besides, I…” you said, immediately staying quiet.

“What?” the lady asked, suddenly nervous, her gaze reflecting the fear of hearing that phrase, the phrase that always stabbed a knife deep into her heart.

“It's late and…” you whispered unsure, looking away and uncovering yourself, searching for your clothes. “I have, I have to…”

“Don't say it, please,” Donna interrupted, shaking her head, grabbing your wrist.

“I'm sorry, Donna, but I have to go,” you finally said, disobeying that silent plea, making her hand gently leave your skin. “It's going to get dark.”

“But, but,” the woman said, shaking her head and searching in her mind for an excuse, some words to make you reconsider your decision.

It wasn't really a decision. Your heart ached at the thought, knowing how much it hurt Donna to see you leaving, something that was becoming more and more difficult.

In silence, you both dressed again, without looking at each other, without doing or saying anything. The tension slowly increased; a tension that couldn't be dispelled with an apology or an empty promise, not anymore.

“Can I brush your hair?” Donna asked in a whisper as you looked at yourself in the vanity, searching for a mark, anything that could give you away to your true owner.

You nodded, letting her take a brush and gently run it through your hair as you both looked at each other in the mirror. Her bright eye betrayed regret, sadness, and yours betrayed lack of sleep, tiredness, laziness…

It was an overwhelming sight, but somehow it had its own sparkle. She was at your side, her beauty accompanying you, her hands caressing you as she gently combed your hair. Donna was with you, and that made you feel complete.

“Are you two deaf!? I'm here...” the doll joked, but without causing the same laughter as before.

It was a sad moment, the only moment you hated when you were with Donna.

“(Y/N), you don't have to do it,” Donna said softly, checking the result of her movements in the mirror and bending down slowly, surrounding your waist with her arms. “Please, stay with me a little longer, please.”

“You know I can't.” It was all you managed to say, shaking your head and pushing her hands away as you got up from the chair.

“We could play chess, or, or I could teach you to cook my recipes… Or maybe we could read in silence, with the fireplace sheltering us from the cold and…” the brunette insisted, pulling your body back, holding you tighter again.

“I can't, Donna,” you said, moving away abruptly, regretting it instantly. “Don't make it more difficult for me, my love…”

“You make it difficult for me,” she replied, giving some room and moving away. “You don't know what it's like to see you leaving every week, to see you going back to… to her,” she whispered with a cold look, with her teeth clenched.

“Donna,” you reprimanded, cupping her face in your hands, fearing that the tension would suddenly explode, embittering the moment. “I'll be back, you know I always do.”

“What if one day you don't?” she asked, grabbing your wrists, hurting you.

“Honey, please let me go,” you said in a calm voice, being released instantly. “I promise I'll be back. You're the only thing that makes my life worth living.”

“But, tesoro...” she insisted, grabbing your wrists again, this time more gently. “Io...”

“Shh...” you hissed, putting two fingers on her lips before kissing them softly, noticing the salty taste of a tear that came out of your eyes involuntarily. “Donna...”

“(Y/N), don't leave,” the brunette said again, lowering her gaze, blinking erratically.

“I'll be back, darling,” you repeated like a mantra that relaxed, but at the same time, distressed you.

Finally the lady in black nodded, keeping her hand in yours, but accepting the reality.

With a passionate kiss, you pulled away from her, walking towards the bedroom door, something you couldn't do, as her grip refused to let you go.

“Donna, please...” you said, increasingly nervous, pulling on her arm. “Donna, let me go.”

She did so with an angry growl and a dark expression, turning to give you her back, making her dress dance hypnotically as she sat at the vanity, unable to watch you walk away.

“Just be patient, my love,” you said quietly, opening the bedroom door, not wanting to wait for an answer.

“It's about time! Let's play!” Angie shrieked as she saw you walk past her. “Hey, silly, are you leaving?”

“I'm sorry Angie, but I have to go back to the castle,” you said, putting on your coat, refusing to look back.

A loud noise startled you: Donna's fist hitting the vanity furiously. It was time to leave, you couldn't leave her like that, but you had to.

“Cazzo!” the brunette shrieked as she hit the furniture over and over again.

“Oops,” Angie sighed, looking at you accusingly. “It's your fault, silly.”

“I, I just…” you said sobbing, knowing that you couldn't even help her, that you couldn't stay to ease her madness. “I-I have to go…”

“Yes, go! I'll fix your mess, like always!” the doll scolded you, walking gracefully towards the bedroom. “Donna, Donna, don't do that... Donna...”

The brunette's screams and sobs echoed in the walls until you went up the elevator, turning them off like the end of a movie, the end of a melancholic symphony that split your soul in two.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, my love,” you sighed quietly, closing your eyes and walking automatically towards the exit, towards the cold of that place, far from the comfort and warmth of your lover's arms.

Born and raised in that forgotten village, your future was written. You couldn't be what you wanted, but what you had to be. Being just another maid was your destiny, and you had no choice but to accept it.

The castle always gladly hired any young girl who was willing to work, to serve its mistress, but the work wasn't as hard as you expected.

Alcina Dimitrescu was an imposing woman, but elegant and even kind. Little by little you got used to being there, to sharing your existence with the lady of the castle and her daughters, who, on the contrary, didn't have much in common with their mother.

Crazy, free and unhinged, yes, that seemed like a correct statement for the three Dimitrescu sisters. Bela, Cassandra and Daniela were like mischievous agents of chaos who broke the harmony and elegance of that place.

After a year working in the castle, things improved before getting worse. One of the three sisters, Cassandra, seemed to have some interest in you. You never thought that those three creatures had interests beyond blood and chaos, but for a moment, you thought you were wrong.

She approached you, laughing evilly, looking at you while you did everyday chores. Habit made your body miss those eyes when they weren't looking at you, miss that laugh when there was only silence in the castle.

An "I like you", a slight blush on her cheeks and a quick kiss were the closest thing to a confession of love that came out of her lips.

Scared by her presence, and despite yourself, attracted, you let her lips kiss yours, you let your body experience what it was like to kiss chaos itself, and you liked it.

Little by little you began to feel that beyond the blood there was a heart beating desperately for your attention, that those looks and laughs were the expression and confirmation that even the daughters of a Lord were capable of love.

You lived happily for a while. Cassandra paid attention to you, all the maids began to respect you and even the lady of the castle granted you certain privileges for, according to her, having captured the interest of her daughter.

You were in a dream, in a fairy tale. You became a wandering smile that began to see the light at the end of her dark future. But it didn't take long for you to realize that fairy tales were just that, tales.

When you couldn't be more in love, Cassandra began to lose interest.  Maybe if you had opened your eyes earlier, you wouldn't be in that situation.

But your eyes needed to see what your intuition was saying, and so it happened. You saw that the suspicions your mind was screaming at you were true.

Cassandra said you were hers, she did, but she had no qualms about flirting with other maids, whispering in their ears, chasing them down the halls, and, of course, not being careful that you didn't see her.

You believed, she said, everyone thought that Cassandra Dimitrescu was your girlfriend, they really did, you really did.

But the concept of commitment and fidelity was far from the chaos inherent in the young Dimitrescu. Deep down you didn't consider that way of thinking as evil or bad-intentioned.

You knew that she didn't make you suffer on purpose, she was just like that.

You tried to bear it, not to look at the marks on the necks of other maids. You tried to ignore it, to forget that you were hers, but she would never be yours.

The pain became unbearable and the love you felt for her began to fade away.

At that moment, just when you thought your life would be a curse, that there was no other solution than to wait patiently for Cassandra to pay attention to you, you met Donna.

The first time your girlfriend asked you to take some supplies to the old estate you even thought of running away, of never coming back. That thought left your mind as soon as it arrived; you would gain nothing, and you would lose everything.

Instead, you decided to fulfill the errand and approach the old mansion.

The rest of the Lords weren’t a mystery, but shadows that you never really managed to see. Of all of them, the village especially feared the inhabitant of that old house, Lady Beneviento.

You knew what she was capable of doing, you knew that her mind was sick, seriously injured, and that she was dangerous, very dangerous. The villagers often said that they no longer feared nightmares but the lady in black.

That day you arrived there trembling with fear, only to find a woman dressed in mourning, a woman who hid her face with a black veil, a woman who didn’t speak, whose presence evoked the night and the darkness itself.

You completed your task with a kind gesture, which was answered with a soft nod and a sharp slam of the door.

Even with that brief encounter, your head began to wander, to wonder. While you were washing dishes, cleaning a hallway, or while Cassandra was taking you, you could only see that black figure and theorize what kind of creature was hiding behind that black veil.

Over time, it became increasingly difficult to get the lady out of your head, and everything got worse when those errands became frequent.

You were unable to find out anything about her, but the slamming of doors was no longer common. Instead, Donna remained silent, looking at you, as if she were studying you, as if she wanted to check that you didn’t want to hurt her.

That apparent vulnerability sparked much more interest on your part, and you began to talk, to ask, to address that stoic figure.

Little by little those conversations moved inside the mansion. Your almost childish insistence on communicating with the lady was clearly a cry for help, a cry to forget for a moment the place you had to return to, and it worked, it worked too well.

The doll stopped being her speaker and her lips uttered a word for the first time, almost a whisper, a melodic one, impregnated with a soft and attractive accent: your name.

It was impossible to resist staying a little longer, to listen to her hoarse voice a little longer, and you simply let it happen.

She offered you tea, listening to any nonsense you had to say and answering briefly but nodding with interest. You didn't know why you were so interesting to her, until you eventually realized how alone she had been all that time.

You couldn't deny that you began to feel, to notice something more inside your chest every time you approached her, every time her pale hands touched yours when she served you tea.

Without wanting to, but without stopping it, you were falling in love with the lady in black.

One day, a day of tea and chat like any other, that black veil fell. It was removed with a gentle movement of her hands. Donna trusted you. She wanted to show herself as she was because it was inevitable to deny that she also felt something for you.

Donna was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her face was not stained with blood, her lips were not painted black. Her only eye shone without that yellowish evil you saw in Cassandra's. She was a truly beautiful woman.

The scar that the will of the Gods left on her face was one of her most horrible fears, one of her greatest insecurities. Her revelation was also a plea, a vote of confidence, of knowing if those feelings were worth it, or if you would end up falling off the cliff like her family did.

Your answer, your only answer, was a kiss. A tender, desperate kiss, the sudden capture of her lips with yours.

Knowing the consequences of entering someone else's territory, Donna accepted that forbidden relationship, just like you.

You may have felt these visits as an escape valve from your hardships at first, but you refused to see it that way. No, Donna wasn’t an escape from a place you didn't want to be, she was the place you wanted to be.

Yes, she was sick, she was crazy, but she was loving and attentive too. She smiled, she listened to you, she hugged you, she caressed you, she loved you.

You saw in her everything that Cassandra didn't have. You began to believe that it was what you really deserved, that Donna was yours, and you were hers.

The furtive kisses and caresses didn't last long. Something inside Donna made her resemble her adoptive family: jealousy, possessiveness.

She wasn't jealous of the world, she wasn't jealous of anyone who looked at you, she knew where the root of her sometimes abrupt and erratic behavior was: Cassandra.

Feeling displaced made her feel frustrated and, after making another confession to you, she took you for the first time.

Her face wasn't the only thing the Gods changed. Her body did too, enough to make her even more self-conscious. For you it was never a problem, for her, your natural reaction and your slightly mischievous smile was one more reason to love you madly.

For the first time in your life, you didn't squeeze your eyes shut. You didn't feel the need to repress the pain of some unpleasant scratches on your bare skin. All you felt were soft caresses, playful tickles on your skin, kisses that ran over your lips while your bodies moved anxiously.

Cassandra was the first, or so you thought until that moment. In reality, the first woman who truly loved you was Donna.

She made you feel comfortable, she gave you more pleasure than you could ever have felt, she told you she loved you, she whispered it in your ear while she took you slowly, not wanting to hurt you.

At first you felt guilty, you cried on her bare chest after your first time. A few kisses didn't mean that much to you, but having Donna inside you, making love with her for the first time, knowing what it was really like to feel loved, broke one of your emotional barriers.

Donna comforted you. She didn't scold you for having ruined that moment, for you feeling remorse. She understood you.

Time kept passing and the visits kept increasing. Any excuse was good to melt into her arms, to make love calmly or wildly, to feel like you had never felt before and to forget that you would have to return to the castle, that those arms wouldn’t always protect you.

After walking through the snow, without even realizing it, you returned to the castle. All the thoughts about how you met Donna and your miserable life with Cassandra had made your return a simple formality.

“(Y/N), you're back,” one of your companions, Irina, said. She was your best friend for a long time. Now, she was just another maid. “The lady was getting worried.”

You rolled your eyes, closing the doors and taking off your coat.

The heat of that castle, one that at first seemed pleasant to you, was uncomfortable, oppressive, and even more so after that tense moment with Donna, a tension that was increasingly common in your visits.

“I'm sure you all were very worried,” you said ironically, glancing sideways at the red mark on her neck, one that indicated that Cassandra had passed by there, probably tired of waiting for you.

The girl noticed what you were looking at and quickly covered herself with an apologetic smile.

“(Y/N), I'm sorry, she came over and…” she began to explain, making you snort and shake your head.

No, you didn't need to know what your girlfriend had done with her in your absence. It would probably be Cassandra herself who would tell you if she got bored.

“Cut the crap, Irina, I'm not interested,” you said in a dark voice, pushing the girl away with your hand.

“Yes, of course,” the young woman nodded, with an absurd bow, as if you were something more than her, as if you were a maid who has to be respected.

How ironic, not even your girlfriend respected you.

“Oh, there you are, I thought you had gotten lost, dear,” a deep and sensual voice appeared behind you, freezing your steps: Alcina Dimitrescu, lady of the castle.

“My lady,” you murmured with an elegant gesture, fearing that running away to your room and crying wasn’t going to be possible.

“You've taken your time, my dear, have you had any problems with Donna?” the tall woman asked, putting a hand on your back to gently push you to walk beside her.

“No, my lady, she...” you said, stopping to think about an answer, one that wouldn't raise more questions.

To Alcina, the relationship that seemed to exist between her daughter and you was real, pure and sincere. You didn't quite understand why Cassandra pretended in front of her mother. Maybe she was afraid of her, or maybe she was trying to protect you. You didn't want to know.

“Mm?” Alcina murmured arching her eyebrows, urging you to give an answer you didn't have.

“Well, she's had a breakdown,” you said without thinking, blaming poor Donna, blaming her mental illness.

You felt horrible for doing it, but you had no other choice. You didn't know the consequences of your mistress finding out about your affair.

“Gods…” the lady in white whispered, shaking her head. “Poor woman.”

“Um, I decided to stay with her until she was calmer. I hope I didn't overstep my bounds, my lady,” you said in a formal tone, looking down at the wooden floor, with the images of the previous passion sending confusing signals to your head.

“Oh, not at all, dear,” the woman said, with a grateful smile. “I appreciate it.”

“Thank you, my lady,” you whispered, wanting to run, to insult yourself for having lied, for having accused the woman you loved of your delay. “Excuse me, my lady, I would like to retire to my room, I fear I have caught a cold,” you lied again, looking for any clumsy excuse to get away from her, from any Dimitrescu who got in your way.

“Of course, I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got sick, but... (Y/N), when you are done, I would like to ask you something,” the vampire said, walking faster, confirming that you had gotten what you wanted, to be alone.

“Fine, my lady.”

The bath you took was a blessing. The heat penetrated your body naturally and the water eliminated any remaining evidence of your infidelity.

Feeling the sweat leave you, how her kisses disappeared from your skin in the soapy water was more painful than other times. The lavender disappeared to impose on your skin the sweet aroma of the castle soap, making you forget every single sensation you felt when making love with your lover, her smell, the humidity of her home, the mark of her fingers caressing your skin…

Love, forget, serve, pretend, that was your daily routine. You could only do one thing: wait for the next week, long for Donna's hugs, for her body warming yours.

If you could bear the situation, it was because you knew you would return to her but… for how long? Was Donna right and one day you wouldn’t return?

The days passed slowly, too slowly. What Alcina wanted to ask of you was simple, but you were deeply grateful for it. She wanted you to have the privilege of tidying up the wine cellar, a place where no maid was allowed to enter. Of course, you weren't just any maid.

The task was especially pleasant. While you were down there, you wouldn't have to look askance at the necks of other maids looking for Cassandra's mark on them, and even better: she couldn't bother you.

It was too cold in that place for her to bear, which made your stay down there even comfortable.

But of course, what seemed like an advantage, a respite, a longed-for relief in your daily life, would bring unexpected consequences.

One night, in your privileged room, the atmosphere was heavy with uncertainty and a bad feeling prevented you from thinking about Donna, from longing for her.

“Wakey, wakey…” a shrill, yet whispering voice stalked your ear as a lump slid under the sheets.

The ferrous scent of those lips gave her away and her childish laughter confirmed your fears: Cassandra.

“W-what are you doing here?” you asked, startled by the intrusion, by some uncomfortable kisses that were beginning to run down your neck.

“What? (Y/N), I'm your girlfriend, remember? I've come to see you,” the young Dimitrescu said, sensually dragging her words while she moved the fabric of your pajamas aside to look for more places to play.

“Hey, I don't want to be rude but… why now? Didn't you say you wanted to have fun with other maids?” you asked delicately, without altering or removing her lips from your skin.

“Oh, don't be like that, silly, you know you're special,” Cassandra purred, pulling you a little closer to her.

Your heart was beating fast and your conscience was screaming to be heard.

You didn't know how much time had passed since she got into your bed, since she physically claimed you, but you knew it was enough to affirm that there was no kind of intimacy between you two, not anymore.

That lack of interest in having sex with you relieved Lady Beneviento. Knowing that you would never be physically hers again served as a consolation every time you had to leave. You promised her you would never sleep with Cassandra again.

Of course, to make that promise was a mistake. Chaos couldn’t be predicted, and you should have known that better than anyone.

“So you suddenly remembered that I exist?” you asked again, pushing her away, just as her teeth sank into your skin, making you hiss in pain. “I thought you weren't having fun with me anymore.”

“Don't be a whiner, (Y/N). I want to take you,” she said, climbing on top of your body, dominating you with kisses that weren't reciprocated, at least not voluntarily. “Hey! Why aren't you paying attention to me? Oh, you're not mad because I had fun with Irina, are you?”

“No, but…” you denied nervously, stopping her hands from scratching your skin under your pajamas while her hips moved anxiously. “Listen, Cass, I'm really tired and…”

“What's wrong? Has Mother made you work too much?” the young woman asked, it almost seemed like she cared about you.

“No, not at all, but I would prefer that…” you murmured, fleeing from her kisses and provoking a childish moan from the vampire.

“Hey, don't move! What are you doing? Are you rejecting me?” she asked impatiently, analyzing your gaze as if she could see behind it.

“No, I...” you said, containing the trembling of your body, the irrational fear that direct question and the answer your heart had produced in you.

Even though Donna was your lover and Cassandra was your girlfriend, you didn't feel infidelity in that way. Letting Cassandra take you was much worse than having sex with Donna. It was cheating on the only person who truly mattered to you.

Breaking your promise was for you the worst of deceptions, a betrayal of the doll maker's trust, a true infidelity.

But the pressure of those chaotic eyes looking at you, demanding answers, answers that would please her, made you forget any attempt to refuse and you simply sighed, staying silent.

“That's better, hun, hun,” the young Dimitrescu laughed, amused, breaking the straps of your nightgown with a quick movement and insisting on sucking, licking, biting your skin.

You closed your eyes so as not to see, but you couldn't help but feel. Every scratch, kiss or movement was terribly painful. She was having fun, but you only suffered, you could only think about Donna, that every second that passed, every hysterical moan that came out of Cassandra's lips, was one more stab in Donna's heart.

You could only act in that way, reciprocate, obey and let yourself go.

None of Cassandra's movements unleashed pleasure in you. Her kisses weren’t hot; they didn’t provoke sensations like Donna's did. Cassandra’s fingers inside you didn't feel like Donna’s erection sliding comfortably into your walls.

It was a rough act. You just wanted it to be over soon, for Cassandra to get what she wanted, and leave you alone.

Luckily, she didn't take long.

After noticing her absence, you ran to your private bathroom naked, looking at the marks your girlfriend left on your body, washing your hands, your face, everything her lips had touched. Unlike when you took a bath after seeing Donna, that time you hoped that the smell of blood and Cassandra's perfume would disappear from your skin.

You rubbed your arms, your neck, your lips, but it didn't disappear; she couldn't disappear from you.

Crying, you went back to bed, looking for a new nightgown to spend the night in, searching for some memories with Donna that would make you forget what you had done.

But that wasn't the worst. The worst thing was that the next morning you would have to go back to the Beneviento estate, you would have to see your lover.

You thought you had the strength to do it, to force her to close her eye while she made love to you and ignore the new details of your body.

You knew you couldn't do it, you just knew it.

“I've missed you...” Donna whispered when her arms protected you again, when her lips rested on yours again. “Tesoro...”

“Me too,” you answered, letting that romantic hug comfort your wounded conscience and make you forget what happened the night before. “Um, um... Donna...” you said unsure.

“Mm?” she asked, brushing your hair away from your face as she always did, smiling at having you in her arms again.

“I was thinking… that… that…” you stammered, deciding that maybe you should suppress your desires and not have sex, at least that day. “Well, the other day you told me that you wanted to play chess or teach me your recipes… how about now?”

“I thought that before…” she murmured, looking at you confused, blinking erratically. “I would like to make you mine first, tesoro.”

“Yes, well, I know, but it's that… well, it's that… I'm on those days, you know, and…” you lied without knowing how to do it, causing the lady in black to frown, suspicious of your words.

“Oh, you're talking about your period… I-I don't remember the last time I… well, I…” Donna hesitated nervously, with a slight blush on her cheeks, cheeks that you caressed amused.

“Don't be nervous, my love,” you joked, whispering in her ear, inevitably biting her earlobe. “Just think about it. It will be much better when I come back next week.”

“Mm.” She nodded unsurely, playing with your hair, with an air of disappointment in her eye. “Fine, let's do something different.”

“Good…” you said, sighing in relief, perhaps too relieved. “How about chess?” you proposed, clapping your hands in the air and approaching the corner where you used to have tea.

“Va bene,” the lady answered, smiling distrustfully.

“Hey! Chess? Come on! Let's play hide and seek!” Angie protested, comically tugging at your dress as you walked.

“Angie, lasciala estare,” her owner ordered, making the doll cross her arms with a snort.

“Hey! What happened to you?” Angie asked, pointing at you, pointing at your neck.

The puppet's tugs had shifted your uniform dangerously, revealing a red mark on your neck, one you wanted to hide.

“For Gods’ sake, Angie, shut up...” you growled, moving your clothes to hide the mark, something that of course didn't deter Donna from slowly approaching, removing the fabric again with a moan of shock.

“What's that?” she asked.

“What's what?” you asked back, nervous.

“I-it was her, wasn't it? She wasn't supposed to touch you anymore,” Donna murmured, clenching her fists on either side of her hips. “You promised me she wouldn't touch you anymore!”

You closed your eyes, feeling the pain of guilt, the sadness of a broken promise.

“Donna, it's not what it seems, I…”

“It's exactly what it seems, (Y/N),” she said, hissing, getting dangerously close to you and grabbing your arm tightly. “You fucked her.”

Vulgar words didn't usually come out of her mouth, Lady Beneviento was losing her mind, and that time, she was right.

“You don't understand, it's not what you think, I don't…”

“Lie to me again, come on,” Donna threatened, with a hatred in her gaze that made you shudder.

“What did you want me to do?” you protested, crossing your arms, letting a childish defensive attitude take over you. “Do you think I had another option?”

“There's always another option,” she added, shaking her head. “You told me that there was nothing physical between you two anymore.”

“You don't understand, Donna.”

“I don't understand? You've fucked her, you promised me that...”

“You think it's easy?! Huh?!” you yelled, frantic. “What right do you have to judge what I do? You don't know how things are.”

Donna laughed sarcastically, with her eye wide open and her knuckles white from the pressure.

“You're right, I don't know how things are, I don't know what happens when you leave, when you go with her,” the lady in black murmured, pointing at you with her finger, her breathing becoming more and more agitated. “But it's quite clear.”

She turned her back on you, but you grabbed her shoulder, which was pushed away with a grunt and a quick movement from the brunette. You desperately tried to reassure her, to make her understand that the night when Cassandra played with you didn't mean anything.

“Listen to me, Donna, please,” you said in a less brusque, more pleading tone. “It didn't mean anything, I didn't enjoy it, I didn't want to, I…”

“Shut up! Cazzo… shut up, shut up, shut up!” Donna shrieked as she kicked the floor furiously.

“Donna, you're scaring me,” you sighed, moving away from her little by little. “If you'd just let me explain…”

“I don't want to hear your explanations!” she shrieked again. “You've deceived me, you're a bitch.”

Anger and helplessness forced you to act irrationally, slapping the lady in black, causing a painful silence to reign in the old house.

“Shit, I…” you said regretfully, trying to get closer to her again. “I didn't mean to, I couldn't… Donna, I…”

The words tried to come out of your mouth, but you weren't successful, you had reached a dangerous limit, you were walking on the edge of a cliff, and the only hand that could save you was further away than ever.

Donna stared at you, mouth agape, with a hand on her cheek, without saying anything, transmitting all her hatred with a look, one that you would never, ever forget.

“Get out of my house,” the lady murmured, looking away from you while you looked at your hand, shaking your head. “Sei una bugiarda! I don't want to see you again!”

“Donna, please, listen to me, I beg you,” you pleaded, grabbing her shaking arm, being pushed away by a rough push that almost made you lose your balance.

“Don't touch me, bitch,” she hissed in an even darker voice. “You broke your promise... Get out of my house! Get out, get out, get out!”

“Donna, Gods...” you sobbed, shaking your head as she walked towards you threateningly.

It was the first time you were afraid of her, truly afraid.

“Donna, please...” you stammered, being grabbed by the arm and letting yourself be led towards the exit.

The lady pushed you, making you fall into the snow.

“Donna! Don't treat her like that! You're stupid, listen to her!” Angie protested, hiding behind a piece of furniture, avoiding the wrath of her owner.

“I thought we were something, that I was something to you,” the lady in black growled, with her hair moved by the winter wind, while you checked that you hadn't been hurt.

“You are, I, I love you...” you said with difficulty, shaking the snow off your body. “Donna, I love you.”

“Liar! Liar, liar, liar!” the lady screamed, stamping her feet again, out of her mind, completely mad, slamming the door shut with a thunderous noise that echoed in the mountains.

“Donna…” you sobbed, tears warming your cheeks.

Just as you expected, it was all over. You had broken your promise, you had condemned yourself to a life without Donna, without the only thing that kept you fighting, and it was all because of you, because of the fear of being brave, of confronting Cassandra, of asking the lady in black to take you in her arms, and rescue you.

That fleeting thought that maybe Donna would come for you, to fight for you, was the last hope that kept you going the following days, but she wasn't going, she wasn't there, there was only you, alone, with a woman who didn't love you, with the only one who did betrayed by your lies, by an infidelity that Donna wouldn't be able to forgive.

“Remember to label the wine correctly, (Y/N),” Alcina said, on one of the endless afternoons in the winery.

What was once a refuge became a prison, one in which you would be alone, far from Cassandra, but with your thoughts and regrets as your only company.

You were no longer the same. Your complexion had turned pale, dark circles adorned your sickly presence, since, at night, your only protection against your girlfriend was to keep the window open, to let the cold in.

Over time you became a ghost of what you were, the ghost of another ghost, a long and sad shadow that didn’t want to see the light if Donna was not next to you.

Alcina's soft voice caught your attention, but unfortunately you could only emit a sad sob. It was getting harder and harder for you to pretend, to act as if you hadn't lost anything, as if everything you wanted and needed was in that castle, and not behind the forest, in the old Beneviento Estate.

“Yes, my lady,” you murmured, earning a serious look from the lady in white, who left a bottle on the table, walking towards you slowly, threateningly.

“My dear... I can't help but feel that something is wrong with you,” she said in a low voice, putting a large hand on your shoulder, forcing you to hide the tear that was welling up in one of your eyes.

“No, my lady, everything is fine,”

No, nothing was fine. Without Donna, nothing would ever be fine.

“You lie terribly,” Alcina sighed shaking her head and pulling your wrist to bring you closer to her. “Gods, look at those dark circles under your eyes, you look awful, dear.”

“I'm sorry, my lady.”

“Tell me (Y/N), has Cassandra done something bad to you?” she asked, making you be alert again.

She had never asked such a thing, your nerves were about to explode.

“Of course not, my lady,” you answered with a false smile, which tightened her grip even more while she frowned, knowing, being convinced that, again, you were lying.

“You know I hate lies, young lady, now, you are going to dry your tears and tell me…”

“Sorry, my lady,” a saving voice appeared in the cellar, making the lady of the castle growl, making her finally let you go.

“Damn it, Olga, you know that you are completely forbidden to come down here,” Alcina protested, putting her hands on her hips.

“I'm sorry, my lady, but it's just that…” the girl apologized, looking down, with her hands shaking in front of her body.

“It's just that what!?” your mistress shouted, echoing off the old walls, causing you to automatically shrink.

“Lady Beneviento is here, my lady,” the maid explained, as best she could, with her voice trembling, just like her body.

Lady Beneviento. That name made you look up quickly, your eyes suddenly opened and you let out an involuntary gasp that caught Alcina's attention for a moment, making her look at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Donna,” you whispered.

Luckily, you managed to avoid your boss's inquisitive gaze by turning around and pretending to place the bottles correctly.

“Gods, why did it take you so long to say it? You are more and more useless every day,” the tall woman protested, rubbing her eyes with contempt.

“Sorry, my lady,” Olga apologized again, pointing to the stairs. “What do I do?”

“What?” Alcina insisted, with an arrogant tone. “Has she told you what she wants?”

“W-Well, her doll was talking about some unfinished business but…” the maid murmured, making you freeze in place.

Had she come for you? Would that be possible? No, it couldn't be, she hated you. She kicked you out of her house…

“Oh, I understand,” the lady in white sighed, with a soft laugh, but looking at you out of the corner of her eye again. “Always so shy… Gods, what does it cost her to call me to say that she wants to have dinner with me? Anyway, tell the others to prepare food for one more person.”

“Yes, my lady”

“And you… go for a dress, dear, we have visitors,” she said looking at you with a different sparkle in her eyes.

“My lady, I…” you said trembling, not wanting to face Donna, not wanting to be in her presence. Not in that castle, not where she would never be yours. “I would rather not disturb and…”

“Nonsense, you are family, dear. Go on, be good and put on something nice, I am convinced that Donna is very happy to see her… errand girl…” she said with her usual irony, one that you mistook for an accusation, making you feel guilty.

You had no choice but to obey, you couldn’t do anything else.

There, in the dining room, there she was: Donna, covered with her black veil, following you with her gaze while you sat in front of her, asking with your eyes, wanting to know the reason for her unexpected presence.

The Angie doll, unlike her owner, had no problem greeting you effusively.

“See, silly? We've come... Hey, what happened to you? You look like a ghost,” the puppet whispered to you in an indiscreet manner, but just before you could ask or speak, the three Dimitrescu sisters appeared next to their mother.

“Hello, hello...” Cassandra sang while the others politely greeted their aunt. “But what do we have here, my elusive girlfriend... It seems that you can't escape from me today, huh?”

As she spoke, your blood boiled more and more, her unconsented touch on your cheeks made you burn with pain, with shame, while she sat on your lap hastily, without the slightest decorum, kissing you passionately in front of your lover.

It couldn't be worse.

“Ahem, Cassandra, darling, show some decorum, will you?” Alcina corrected, causing the young woman to wink at you and stand up, letting you see how Donna tightly gripped her fork, and how Angie tried to soften the pressure.

You’d had awkward dinners, but that one, without a doubt, was the worst of all.

If it weren't for Alcina's pleasant chat with her sister, everything would be silent. You knew that Donna wasn't paying attention. She only saw how Cassandra made fun of you by feeding you dinner with evil laughter, or speaking to you in indiscreet whispers about what she was going to do to you as soon as Donna left.

The sound of a piece of cutlery falling to the floor interrupted that tense calm. Donna had dropped her spoon and you, as helpful as ever, bent down to pick it up under the table.

You discreetly handed her the fallen object, realizing that there was something in her hand, something she left in yours and that you squeezed tightly.

A note, or so it seemed. You didn't know what it contained, what it meant, whether it was an explanation, an apology, or an insult. You were dying to know, but you couldn't, not with Cassandra beside you.

Your brain worked very hard to ignore her non-consensual assault on your privacy, focusing on the best way to find out what that piece of paper contained.

Okay, the idea was stupid, but it was the best you could come up with given the circumstances.

“Oh, wow,” you said falsely, regretting having let the glass of wine spill on your formal dress.

You were a terrible actress.

“Excuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom,” you said hastily, abruptly removing Cassandra's hand from your leg and getting up from the table.

Nervous, you ran through the halls, pretending to wash yourself so as not to raise suspicions until, finally, you opened that paper.

I have come to fight for you, to take you home in my arms, amore mio.

I don’t want, nor can, live without you

I love you

You read it once, and again, and again. The smile lit up your dull face when you understood what Donna was doing in the castle.

At last, because of Angie or her own conscience, she had come to her senses. Donna had understood that you needed her, that you never wanted to hurt her.

It didn't mean that she had forgiven you for having cheating on her, but it was a written proof of what she felt for you. She would not give up easily and she had found the courage to fight for you, even risking invading Cassandra's territory.

“Oh, Donna...” you whispered, pressing the note to your chest. “Donna, Donna, Donna…”

The sound of distant footsteps brought you out of your euphoria. Was it her? Could you finally love her, really be hers?

“Donna?” you asked out loud, getting the echo of your voice as an answer.

“Mm, no,  wrong,” a mocking voice said, one you knew, one that made you quickly put the note in your pocket. “Are you blind?”

“Cass, I…” you said as you saw your girlfriend licking her lips, coming closer while laughing, like a predator stalking its prey.

“If you wanted to see me, you didn’t have to stain that pretty dress.”

“It was an accident,” you lied, moving away from claws that were going straight for your waist. “We should go back.”

“Why the rush? It was a very lucky accident, don't you think?” she purred, forcing you to crash against the wall, with no option to escape. “Mother and the others are busy with Aunt Donna, so... well, you and I can play...”

Her tongue on your neck burned like a hot iron. The love you felt for Donna forced you to feel disgust for your girlfriend's actions. No, she wasn't going to get what she wanted that time, not when you were so close to getting the life you deserved, a life with Donna.

“No,” you said in a whisper, opening your eyes and standing firm.

“Excuse me?” Cassandra questioned, as if you had said something extraordinary, something she never thought she would hear from your lips.

“I said… No!” you screamed, pushing your girlfriend back, forcing her to step back sharply with her eyes wide open.

“What!?” she screamed angrily. “What do you mean by no? Listen, you silly girl, you are my girlfriend and…”

“No, not anymore,” you hissed. “I'm sick of you… of you making fun of me every day. It's over…”

“Why do you say those mean things to me? You don't have to… You can't say those things to me!” Cassandra yelled kicking the ground angrily, like a capricious child.

“It's over, Cassandra,” you said confidently, holding the note tightly in your hands, gaining all the courage you never thought you had.  “You are a spoiled, pampered and capricious brat… you think you have the right to play with people, with their feelings… well, I'll tell you one thing… You won’t play with me anymore!” you said furiously, trembling with fear, but without faltering.

“How dare you…” the young Dimitrescu hissed in a dangerous tone, her gaze darkening more and more. “Well, I've been very patient with you, pet. Do you think I don't know that you leave your window open to avoid me, to laugh at me? You can't avoid me! You're my girlfriend! You're mine!”

“I'll never be yours!” you shouted back, with all your strength.

Those words were too much for the young woman, who approached roughly grabbing you by the collar of your dress, almost lifting you into the air.

“You're going to pay for it, pet… You're going to…!” she shrieked, raising her hand, about to punish you for your insolence.

Something prevented her from completing her action, a pale hand wrapped around her wrist, preventing her from moving, Donna’s hand.

The lady in black appeared to save you, pushing your now ex-girlfriend away from you with a furious growl.

“Donna!” you sobbed in the middle of a desperate cry.

“What are you doing? Stay out of this, Aunt Donna,” Cassandra said surprised, to which your lover paid no attention, walking quickly towards you and cupping your face in her hands.

“Tesoro... are you okay? Did she hurt you?” the lady whispered, checking your condition while you clung to her, shedding a sea of ​​tears on her shoulder.

“I'm fine, I'm fine because you came... you came for me...” you said sobbing, finding the comfort you so lacked, the pleasant warmth of her arms.

“Of course I came... Oddio... I'm so sorry... I behaved like a fool...” she whispered in your ear, melting into you in a sincere, strong, safe embrace.

“Hey! What's going on here?” Cassandra asked, with a disgusted look at you. “What the hell…? Oh, no, it can't be true…”

“Get away from her, I won't repeat it,” Donna threatened, placing you behind her body in a protective gesture.

“You? Are you trying to snatch what's mine? Mother!” the young woman shouted, moving nervously and trying to grab you again. “You bitch… you've been cheating on me! Now you'll really pay for this and…!”

The lady in black moved quickly, pushing the young Dimitrescu aside and slapping her with a blow that left everything silent, lost in the echo of the walls.

“But, but…” Cassandra protested, incredulous at what had just happened. “You hit me!”

The sound of fast heels alerted you. Of course, that commotion alerted the lady of the castle, who was running towards you, causing a sinister smile to appear on Cassandra's wounded face.

“Mother, mother, come, come!” her daughter shrieked with childish satisfaction, pointing at you. “Aunt Donna hit me.”

Alcina looked at you briefly, studying the arms that held you, your tears, with a cold face.

“Now you are going to pay for what you have done... you are going to... Ah!” Another slap crossed the young vampire's face, but it wasn’t Donna's, but her own mother's. “Mother?”

“You stupid spoiled brat...” Alcina hissed, with her teeth grinding, with a visceral hatred towards her own daughter. “How dare you treat a girl like that?”

“What? But, but, but she…” Cassandra protested, embarrassed and terrified.

“Oh, come on, do you think I'm stupid? I know perfectly well what you were doing to poor (Y/N). Tell me, girl, what have I done wrong with you? Haven’t I educated you on how to treat ladies?”

“But…”

“Silence!” Dimitrescu shrieked, making you shrink even further into the arms of your lover, who remained stoic, ready to protect you. “Gods… (Y/N), are you okay?” she asked in a motherly tone, but visibly upset.

You simply nodded, moving away from the hand that rested on your shoulder.

“Mother, it's not fair,” Cassandra protested, with tears in her eyes, tugging at her mother's dress.

“Shut your mouth and get out of my sight! It's clear that you need new lessons… Until then, you're grounded! Go away!” the matriarch shrieked, pointing down the hallway, where the young woman, turned into a tangle of flies, fled in terror.

The tall woman sighed and seemed to calm down, turning her gaze towards you and sighing exhaustedly.

“Donna, how disappointing…” she said in a kind but accusatory tone. “I must confess that I never imagined that you, of all people, would be capable of such a thing…”

The lady in black didn’t respond, she simply hugged you tighter. She wasn’t going to let you go, she would never let you go again.

“And you…” the lady in white said. “Oh, my dear… how could you? Cheating on my daughter with Donna… no, no, no, that is not right, my dear…”

“My lady, I…” you stammered as best you could, with a sore throat, with your heart about to explode.

“Shut up,” Alcina ordered you. “You are fired. Take your things and get out of my castle… Oh, and Donna, I'm sure you won't waste the chance to have a maid like her, will you?”

You both looked at each other. You didn't know if Donna was smiling, but you were; your face regained its full brightness when you realized what was happening.

Alcina wasn't firing you, she was setting you free, allowing you, and Donna, to form the life together you dreamed of so much. It was all too good to be true; you even feared it was just a dream.

But as you left the castle in her arms, in Donna's arms, as she promised you, knowing that you wouldn't come back, that you would finally be free to be with her, you realized that it wasn't a dream, but reality, a reality you finally wanted to be in.

[gingernut1314]

Could you write some luffy dating headcanons?🫶🫶🫶

Dating Luffy would Include...

Content: gender-neutral reader, more love bug Luffy, what I think dating Luffy would be like

Word Count: 700+

A/N: Umm....yesss!!! I'm always so down to write fluffy Luffy things!! If there are any specific dating escapades you'd like me to write about, just let me know! I hope you enjoy!

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Luffy would be the softest, most kind person you’d ever dated

This man is peppering you with kisses every chance he gets

Hugging you every chance he gets

He’s just always finding ways to touch you

He needs to touch you, it’s his love language obvi

If you’re across the ship or somewhere doing something without him, he’s gonna stretch his arm or leg so that he can hold your hand or wrap an ankle around yours

Has close lined about half the crew cause of this

In his need to be close to you, expect to carry him a lot

Cause he’d gonna latch onto your back like some weird backpack

He’ll nuzzle his face in your neck and kiss your skin and tell you all the butterfly-inducing things he thinks of you

Luffy’s gonna say he loves you first

He might even say it way before you two start dating

This guy just loves his friends--you guys are his family

But when you two start dating, you might have to explain that you love him in a different way than you love the crew

Luffy might take a few moments to think this over, but I believe this guy is super emotionally intelligent so he’d know the difference 

And he has no problem letting you know he loves you in this different way too

Be ready to be the first person Luffy’s bringing his strange show and tell things too

Whether it’s a stick or a rock or a very creepy crawly bug, he’s gonna shove it way too close to your face and explain with a big old bright smile on his face what it is and how cool it is

Sometimes he’ll find cool gems or treasures and gift them to you

Sometimes, while on an island, he’ll see something that you just need to have

Of course, this man doesn’t have a single berri to his name, but he’ll beg Zoro or Sanji to buy it for him

And if he’s truly desperate, he’ll brave asking Nami for money

He’ll brave anything for you

He’s gonna do anything to see you smile and hear you laugh

He’ll do bad impressions of the crew or tickle you or even draw you something

He thinks you’re the most beautiful person in the world 

And he is not shy when it comes to telling you that

He’ll grab hold of your cheeks and tell you over and over till you feel like you might explode from the sweetness of it all

Luffy loves food

He lives and breaths food

Because of this, food, none cooking sense, is one of his love languages

Because while he will not share with anyone

You’ll find him not stealing food off your plate once you two start dating

You’ll find him making sure you’ve eaten enough before he vacuums down the rest of the food laid out for you all

If there was something you really were looking forward to eating, and Luffy has it on his plate, he’s gonna let you have a piece

You might even ask Sanji to teach you to cook something simple so you could cook for Luffy

And though Sanji assures you Luffy would beg for boiling water and eat burnt to near charcoal foods, he’ll understand you want it to be nice

Luffy will be brought to tears when you present your meal or snack to him

And he’ll attack you in hugs and kisses 

He’ll insist you share the food you made

I think any nicknames he gives you are gonna be food-related

“You’re my little rice ball or meatball” 

Might get the occasional Sunshine from him, but he’s coming up with these nicknames on the fly

And there are definitely ones that are better than others, but they are cute all the same

Ever since you two started dating, there hasn’t been a single night you two didn’t sleep in the same hammock

There really was rarely a night you two didn’t sleep together before you made your relationship official

But it’s mandatory now

And you are more than happy to be wrapped up in his strong, stretchy arms

Say goodbye to blankets cause Luffy is your blanket now