#not realizing that PERHAPS. JUST MAYBE. not all of my Beloved Readers will have obsessively rewatched this film as recently/frequently as I | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mywritingonlyfans · 1 year ago

Text

Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud! Reader (Smut) Part 2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9K.

a/n: I'll need to add one more part, I hope you still feel like reading them! Thank you for waiting all this time! (I'll try my best to finish the last part soon)

HERE'S PART1

Alex promptly notified campus authorities about the boys. Although he didn't know their names, his detailed description enabled other professors to identify them. He ultimately concluded that they weren't a real threat, just a bunch of troublemakers. Nevertheless, he did his part, unwilling to let the situation slide and subject himself to any torment for having overlooked their inappropriate behavior. In the same way, he'd be watching you just as closely, not only because he wanted you to be okay but also because of the intensity that had built up inside him (thoughts and a tiny bit of obsession) after the last time he saw you.

…

His messy and crooked handwriting on the napkin somehow lingered in your mind. Not as much as the possibility of him being someone other than yours, but it persistently surrounded your aura. Your idealization of Professor Turner did not fit with him being a traitor, so yes, the way you portrayed him in your mind did not allow for such a possibility unless he proved otherwise. And that hurts, from deep within your core to the bitterness in your mouth and the burning in your throat. It was frustrating, yet you still wanted him around. What continued to motivate you to read the book he had given you and delve into his notes was the feeling of having him by your side, reading every word with you. Sometimes you were certain that if you closed your eyes, you could hear his rough, accentuated voice blending with the characters.

Perhaps, if you were his age and already held a degree, maybe even a professor specializing in romantic literature, there might have been something between you two. Picture it: a rainy afternoon, your head resting on his chest, his warm lips near your ear as he read to you. You hadn't openly acknowledged it yet, but you felt a certain compatibility despite the numbers of years difference. It took you a while to realize, but his demeanor softened whenever he saw you, his gaze growing more serene, and even the beloved wrinkle between his eyebrows had time to relax. His voice became gentler. You weren't completely oblivious to these cues, though you did have your doubts.

It all traced back to that one night when he had come to your aid, opening your eyes to the possibility that he could belong to someone. The faint, woody scent of his blazer had found its way to your home. He had even apologized for pulling back from a kiss, not wanting to be rude, and left his phone number in your belongings with a simple message: "Call me if you need me, lil’ one." He left no room for doubt; your mind still spun, and you felt helpless, uncertain about what steps to take. But your desire to do something about it burned brightly.

"I can hear your breathing," his tone was relaxed. Just as you hoped it would be with you, and then you wondered if he could recognize you by your breathing alone.

You remained silent, there was no plausible reason or emergency that had made you call. It wasn't strange, just unusual. He laughed, which made you imagine him with a cigarette between his fingers, taking a breath on the balcony with his mouth slightly open to blow out the smoke. Maybe he just smoked too much, and you weren't obsessed.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence." He laughed, in a way that filled your lungs, and the little wrinkles around his eyes appeared for contemplation. At least in your mind, just for you.

You exhaled, your eyes filling with tears. It wasn't exactly a desire to cry, but you felt genuinely sad knowing that you weren't and wouldn't be his.

"How do you know it's me, Mr. Turner?" You wanted to sound playful, but your voice came out so shaky that it made calling him that seem inappropriate.

"It was a guess. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would call me at this hour and stay in deep silence. And, well," there was a pause, his guttural and muffled breathing making you take a deep breath. Enough time for a drag, you thought. "You know, I was ‘oping you’d call." He was sincere, typical of him. He always seemed too clear when he wanted to be. Everyone said he was strict, but you couldn't think of a time when he had made his students confused or uncertain about something he demanded. Demanded, that was a word that suited him in the classroom.

"Waited?" And you saw him nod with a sweet look for you, as if he were by your side. In fact, he just mumbled. "Expected me to be in trouble?" You tried to sound more cheerful.

There was a pause; you lay down, staring at the walls until you buried your nose in the pillow in a hug. He was close to his phone; you could hear him wet his lips and breathe lightly. You wanted to run your fingers over his face and hair again, but you couldn't deny that this was as magnificent as it got.

"Not at all, but I wouldn't hesitate to save you." His eyes closed tightly. The silence grew deeper, still comfortable, it was cute. If you had the chance, you would kiss him before that, before it got too cute. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding regretful, just reluctant due to your brief absence.

You laughed, not saying anything, but it was enough for him to understand that everything was okay.

"Are you sad?"

Then you felt the pillow get a little damp.

"Am I really that transparent?"

He let out a breath through his nose, his lips curving. If he closed his eyes just right, just like you did, he would also be able to feel your fingers dancing around him.

"Only when you write, but I blame myself for watchin’ you too much during this time." You sounded the same way as when he pushed you a little too hard with his pragmatic comments, and although he found it adorable, over the phone, without being able to do anything about it, it made him a little uncomfortable. His words took brief seconds to be spoken; he wondered if you noticed how nervous he was that he needed to formulate sentences before speaking. And even then, he regretted some of them, not that they were bad, but he didn't want to hurt you.

"I guess I am,"

"Guess?" The air caught in your throat, the back of your nose starting to burn, and you feared it would be difficult to keep tears from flowing.

You didn't want to comment on the woman in the photo, at least not at that moment; you wanted to enjoy being with him as much as possible. Taking a deep breath, you decided to omit the reason but still let him know that you were genuinely upset. Maybe it was because he had helped you; you didn't know why, but you trusted him to a moderate extent that included your feelings. You believed and knew that talking to him would make you feel better.

"I think I'm just stressed," it wasn't a lie. His body shivered, unable to hold you close to comfort you. You felt a little pathetic making such a confession to a 37-year-old man who didn't have the same problems as you.

"I feel like I'm trying so hard for nothing, the days of writing have been a burden, and everything I write is so thought out and time-consuming that I feel like no one would want to read it, I'm almost certain I'm a fraud. I'm just waiting for the day they'll realize." Your throat was already scratchy enough to be closed from the middle to the end; your face was wet, and your head pounded in pulses. This was a recurring thought of yours; you had never verbalized it to anyone.

He listened, his steady breathing becoming slightly faster, and in a way, it calmed you over the phone. The whimsical feeling that he was there for you, even if it was a situation made up in your head, put you at ease.

Alex had noticed that you were insecure about your writing; it was clear how you reacted to his notes and negative feedback. But that was one of the things that made you good, the persistence in wanting to recognize your mistakes, listen, and do things differently. He wished all his students were like that. Although you had a special place in his mind and heart. Alex found you talented and determined; weakness didn't align with your gentle and loving personality. He wanted to make you see yourself through his eyes and free you from that feeling.

"I don't think you are, lil’ one; I know you're not," the pet name brought a smile to your face, and Alex noticed, his chest warming with the satisfaction of successfully soothing your worries. "You'll reach your goals. You write well, pay great attention to detail, and I love every touch of romance in your writing. I mean it now, and I'll mean it even more in the near future. You’re quite meant for this." He settled into his bed, clearing his mind as he imagined you lying beside him. Alex could almost see your gaze darting away from his, just as you often did during his lectures, as if you hoped he wouldn't notice.

You wouldn't admit it, and he wouldn't discover it, but you felt more confident and better in this emotional aspect after his classes. You recognized that you felt even worse about this in the months before you even knew Alex. Now it was different, and you liked that.

"Do you really think so?" It didn't sound like you wanted to hear him repeat the same words. It was more like you still had traces of doubt. He could even see your nose wrinkling, a habit of yours when you were uncertain, which he found endearing. Just like hearing your weak voice like that, no matter how wrong it may be.

"Sometimes I'm certain that I'm not worth the opportunity that someone needs to give me so I can succeed in something, something that hasn't even happened yet and might never," Alex didn't let you linger on that and hushed you until your voice diminished. If he found it painful to hear you talk about yourself this way, he couldn't imagine how you were dealing with it inside your head. "I don't want you to talk ‘bout yourself like that." His voice was firmer, and you shrunk back; it was good to hear above all. "You'll make it. You're worried ‘bout a future you can't control. You're still young, and you haven't even finished your degree. Give things time. Like I said, you're talented, and you'll have good opportunities. And I'd help you in any way possible." Inside his head, he concluded, and in the impossible too. He wished he could hug you, have your body close, and be sure that you were comforted and that your voice was no longer filled with tears, but all he had were words.

Even without a turn of phrase, he noticed you calming down, and he could feel your exaggerated heartbeat through the call. Or maybe that was just his worries. You were a mess. And even though you were frustrated, he didn't want to be anywhere else that night but on the phone with you (even though he preferred you in person next to him).

"Do you think it gets better with time, Mr. Turner?" You smiled; it was forced, he knew that, but he was relieved that you were trying. Then he scratched his nose with a funny look, the way you called him still sending shivers through his body, but he also found it cute how the sound came from your lips.

"The insecurity you're feeling?" You nodded in a mumble. "It doesn't get better, but we learn to deal with it better, I think." You laughed again, with more enthusiasm, and Alex felt accomplished, feeling his own cheeks blush.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." You said softly, closing your eyes, the phone pressed against your cheek, still hugging your pillow even tighter. His breath truly acted as a calming agent on you.

"Little one?" He noticed you were tired. "You can call me Alex if you want; there's no reason to be so formal." He felt awkward asking for that, even though the whole situation was awkward.

"Okay," you said softly, not quite able to bring yourself to say his name. The way you sounded thoughtful even with such a small word made Alex chuckle quietly in a discreet way. You were so adorable in his eyes.

Silence took over, in the same warm and familiar tone as throughout the call. You began to smell his scent on your sheets and remembered lying there with his blazer before, although for now, it was likely just a figment of your imagination. But it felt so real; you were really drowsy from sleep.

"Turner?" He murmured to let you know he was still there, finding the evolution of you avoiding "mister" quite sweet, as it made him feel less old compared to you than he actually was.

"I've been writing different works; I'd like you to take a look. I like it when you assist me without taking away my freedom." He ran his hand over his abdomen, his body warm, and he felt guilty once again for pulling you into this with him, even if that was your will too.

"I'd love to. I'm free tomorrow if you want to come over." It sounded subtle and right. Neither of you could tell if it was the effect of sleep, but he liked the idea of having you at his house again and being able to talk to you outside the academic environment. You took a while to respond, and he almost took back his earlier words.

"Is it not a problem?" Your mind went back to how he could have someone who was his person.

"No," he said, not sounding pensive, but he was wondering if someone important at the university found out it could give you problems. He knew it wasn't right for him, but he didn't care as much about what could happen to him; you had more to lose than he did, you were at the beginning of your academic career, and he wouldn't do that to you. "Do you think it could be a problem for you?"

You denied it, realizing you needed to speak for him to know the answer. "No, I think it's a good idea," you concluded, deciding that you would make the most of it, whatever it was. It was the first time you felt attracted - you liked him, you were a bit obsessed, you were afraid - and you were almost certain he felt the same way, and you didn't want to waste it.

After a few short minutes, you continued, "I love the way you write about being in love, as if there's only room for that one person in your head, and nothing else matters. I hope that if someone ever falls in love with me, it's at least 10% of how you describe that feeling." He knew you read his publications, yet he felt a delightful warmth, like receiving a handwritten note from your middle school crush confessing the same feelings. He appreciated your work, and your appreciation of his made him feel great. "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new? I won't settle for anything less." Although Alex had written this a while ago, he found himself contemplating how well it matched what he felt for you.

You couldn't find more words, but both of you could sense each other's presence, the subtle laughter, and the soft breaths. Words weren't the sole means of communication; you both comprehended the situation and willingly let things progress at their own tempo. With this feeling of ease, you slipped into a peaceful and rejuvenating slumber, so unaware of it.

A few before this, he commented about needing to dispose of the ashes and the ashtray, and your face brightened in the darkness upon realizing you were right. He was smoking this whole time. Once you drifted off to sleep, Alex allowed himself to do the same, filled with the assurance that you were safe.

…

Your gaze appeared distant, and your fingers, on the verge of digging into your arm's skin due to impatience, twitched nervously. You leaned against the wall, seeking to evade the curious glances of passersby, well aware that your tension was conspicuously written across your features.

"Hey, what happened?" His voice carried deep concern, and as his gaze met yours, you couldn't help but fear that someone had issued a threat you were blissfully unaware of. He didn't hesitate, closing the gap between you, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. He was clearly worried.

It took a moment for you to find yourself as you briskly navigated the corridor leading to the reception desk, anxiety clutching at your chest.

"They're having issues with my documents, for dear God. I need them to apply to some campus. I did everything correctly, notified them of my need for these documents, and I'm still well within the deadline…" Your voice trailed off, caught in the charged atmosphere, your mind aflame.

His gaze remained steady upon you, his countenance markedly soothed now that your anxiety had heightened the stakes of the situation. He adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and extended a reassuring touch, his fingertips coming to rest gently upon your hand.

Moistening his lips and making that soft, almost playful sound one uses to capture a cat's attention, you couldn't help but release a small, albeit apprehensive chuckle, providing relief to both you and Mr Turner; he was doing well.

His presence, grounding and reassuring, helped to temper your nerves. He remained with you until your breathing found its way back to the present.

Glancing around, his eyes found no one in close proximity. He dipped his head slightly to align himself with your level, a tremor of emotion causing your cheeks to twitch. His face and the tip of his nose were red.

Running his fingers softly across your cheek, he offered you a warm smile despite your obvious reluctance stemming from the absence of his hand in yours.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be just fine, little one." His voice gradually dissolved your anxiety and the gripping sensation in your chest. He brought his fingers to his lips, tenderly kissing them before tracing their path back to your face.

First, he lightly pressed against your forehead, then your nose, and finally your cheek before his hands slid back into his pockets.

Unbidden, the thought crossed your mind that he would've kissed your tears away, a gesture of comfort he was undoubtedly willing to extend, if only the circumstances allowed. And then your mind ached at the brief reminder that you had woken up in the double bed in his room that night.

His laughter filled the space, eyes glistening with warmth, and the wrinkles around them adding to his features. In that moment, you fervently wished he could be yours, even as your self-awareness acknowledged the depth of your feelings.

"Where do you intend to apply?" Your gaze descended to his chest, buttons undone, and a gleaming chain vying for your touch.

"Huh, I... I plan to apply to a university in California. That's the crucial one, although I'll be submitting applications to others as well. Missing this deadline is simply not an option."

He nodded in understanding, skillfully alleviating the awkwardness you felt over your hesitant words. You remained unaccustomed to the unwavering attention he directed your way, where your words and actions seemed to bear a significant weight. He made you feel noticed and appreciated, you liked that.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right back."

That said, he didn't take long to re-enter the room you had left about 40 minutes earlier and resolve your issue. He emerged with a furrowed brow, the self-assured smile gradually returning to his lips as he made his way back to you. It almost felt unfair how swiftly he had solved the problem, but then you remembered that he wasn't known for his friendliness to everyone. You imagined the firmness in his voice and expression as he demanded to know the whereabouts of your documents from whomever happened to be present. A sense of relief washed over you as he asked if this was what you needed and handed you the envelope. With a quick glance inside, you confirmed that your documents were indeed there.

He seemed genuinely pleased to have been able to help, but you didn't quite notice. Your reaction was instinctual as you rose on your tiptoes and let your body collapse onto his, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. He took a deep breath, unprepared for this, but he managed to keep his bag from slipping off his shoulder and circled his arm securely around you. His nose brushed against your hair, and he hoped your scent would linger on his clothes for at least a few more minutes.

It was brief, both aware of the potential consequences of this closeness. You apologized, although a smile remained on your face. He could have frozen that moment in reality, gazing at you for hours, your short shirt rumpled from your previous touch, knee socks slightly disheveled inside your tall boots, while you clung to the documents he had just retrieved. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was evident how you found comfort in each other's presence. And he easily concluded that you suited California.

"I need to go," he said, his thoughts consumed with the image of you sitting in his classroom in a few hours and potentially at his home later if you hadn't changed your mind. He didn't want to bring it up, wanting the decision to be entirely yours. If you decided not to show up, he'd understand, and you knew that. You appreciated the pressure he removed from you. His desires were quite evident, and even though you still needed to address the matter of the photo in his room, his intentions were anything but unclear.

…

On that day, you sat a few desks behind due to the front-row seat's creaking issue. Every time he entered the room, your attention soared. You enjoyed admiring how he placed his brown bag on the desk, neatly rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, and adjusted his blazer before starting the class. However, you noticed how his eyes searched for you before initiating this ritual, his face stern and composed, his hand tracing his jaw until he reached the spot where he found you, a few desks back. Your radiant smile met his timid one, and your hands fidgeted with your skirt. At that moment, you both knew that neither of you concealed your feelings well. It was evident in the softening of his expression upon finding you and the shy smile that curved his lips; with crooked lower teeth and cute prominent lines. It warmed your heart.

The following minutes went as expected, with your heart racing when he addressed you, and he posed questions that he was confident you could answer or raise thought-provoking ones. You remained addicted to gaining his favor, even though you no longer needed it. There was no doubt you were his favorite one.

"I think that's enough for today," he murmured, dismissing the others, which included you. Yet, you hesitated to pack your things and leave. You wanted to show him that you still intended to meet him later, fearful that he might think otherwise.

Initiating the conversation didn't come naturally. You leaned against the closed door, observing him tidy up the last of his belongings. You felt uneasy, and he sported a self-assured smile. He was yours, soon you'd gradually become aware of it.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence," he offered, approaching you. Your nervousness was palpable, and you couldn't even contemplate forming words. "There's no one on the other side of the door," he reassured, peering through the small glass window. "I wouldn't force or manipulate you into anything you don't want to do." He was cautious, but the idea that he thought you might think of him like that made you shake your head vigorously.

"I know you wouldn't, Professor Turner." His nose wrinkled slightly as you insisted on calling him that. His cheeks gained color, and you loved that.

You pushed your hair back, trying to clear your head. "I just wanted to confirm that you still want to see me tonight, and also to say thank you for helping me after the bar incident. I don't want you to think badly of me. I—" You paused, swallowing hard. Dry throat, just like your eyes, which couldn't stop blinking. His attention was fully on you, and it didn't help. Seeing your struggle, he moved closer, gently removing your hand from your hair. He whispered while still close, "I don't think anything bad 'bout you, and I'll still be waiting for you if you want to be there."

You nodded, your eyes lost in his, feeling as if you could almost touch his skin without making physical contact. Your hand involuntarily touched the collar of his shirt, your palm pressing awkwardly against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the coolness of his necklace. His fingers followed yours, resting on top of your hand with a pleasant size contrast. Your touch affected his body in ways you couldn't fully fathom, but he was better at concealing it. Your mind briefly entertained the idea of his lips brushing against yours, but this thought was soon supplanted by a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your chest met his as in an embrace, and it lasted long enough for you to feel his fingers below your knee, lifting your high socks until they were even with the other. It sent a great burn through your thigh and made you want to keep him close, but then he was stepping away. "I just want you to feel comfortable with me, pet." Your words once again choked in your throat. You wanted to hear him say he wanted you, but you refrained from vocalizing it, and you understood, but you still longed to hear it from him. Just as you wanted to shout that you felt good with him, despite being a novice in matters of the heart.

…

In your imagination, Professor Turner was someone who didn't shy away from the daylight, and you believed he was just that, even though it was amusing to picture a darker side to him that other students described. When you told your roommate that you wouldn't be back that day, and she suspected it might be related to him, you received a playful, "Take care, don't let him pull you to the dark side." It made you laugh and think about how some of your classmates had asked you to talk to Alex about his grading approach because they had noticed his fondness for you and were in desperate need of a miracle. You didn't think your intervention would change anything, but your curiosity would lead you to take the risk.

The air felt trapped in your lungs, and there was still an alert in your mind that being there was wrong. Students were gossips (your friend even more so), if he had someone, you would know, right?

"I thought you might be hungry," he gestured for you to enter. The same calm and gentleness that always characterized his demeanor toward you, as your roommate had reminded you over the phone just minutes ago. Your mouth quivered, and your hands turned cold as he looked at you. His expression was meticulous, as if trying to read every one of your signals. The sensation within you intensified as you adjusted your knee socks, and his attention followed you until he realized how his hands clenched around nothing. This time, it was you who laughed.

"I wish I could say you don't have to pay for things for me, but honestly, I wouldn't have had the money to come here," you explained, with more than a hint that you might be less financially stable than him. The age difference still nagged at your mind, but you had promised yourself to make the most of this situation. He had covered the Uber ride, just like last time, and now you felt guilty about him spending money on your meal, even though you found it adorable.

He was flushed, certainly not from embarrassment. "It's okay, I don't mind. I want you 'ere." It sounded so formal and yet so natural of him, it made you wonder if he did this often; seduce their own students. It was quite a torment for you to add to your worries, had he ever done that before? And why were you bothered by that? Why did you want to be the only one who had ever gone through this with him?

You only realized that you were standing there staring at him when you felt his hand lightly press your back and guide you to the living room. There were sheets and pillows on the wooden floor rug and the light was dim. He had thought about that and it made your cheeks hot, you were unable to contain a smile. Before sitting down, he took your bag off your shoulders and murmured, "Your thoughts are quite noisy, little one."

He sat next to you, his shoulders pressed against yours. Your legs stretched out and your uncontrollable fingers played with the hem of your socks. You kept your eyes on the orange colored juice and some bread, your belly emptying and your head becoming fuller. “I just,” you looked at him, his messy hair and tired look but still giving you all the appreciation. "I'm not used to it, I guess."

"I'm not sure if it helps you either, but, I'm not, I'm not in the habit of bringing students to my house. You're the first one." You smiled, the weight of your body joining him. Alex noticed you becoming more comfortable and brought his hand closer to yours, then you rested your palm in his; bringing your fingers over the veins and calluses on his fingertips. You bit your lip at the thought of him actually playing the guitars in his room. And then you felt heavy once again at the thought that you wouldn't be able to be present in the moment with him if you didn't know if he had someone else.

You were careful to pull your hands away from his, stealing a piece of bread and pouring yourself some juice. His gaze on you was unmistakable, hard to ignore. Even though you enjoyed it, you felt like you were caught doing something bad.

"You can talk to me," he said, nothing but reassuring. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable." And he didn't, it was in your head, and deep down you knew it.

As the orange, viscous liquid touched your lips, you noticed his flushed cheeks going harder, even though he remained confident. It was the same Mango and Passion Fruit blend you had at the campus bar. Your face lit up with a smile, and he wished it could always be like this. "This is almost an obsession." He laughed too, relieved that you didn't think he was crazy for it.

He had indeed asked in the following days what that drink was, and he had learned that you always ordered that, he was just trying to make you comfortable around him. Little did he know that it didn't take much. "I swear my intentions were for the best," he concluded to have succeeded as he held your gaze for a little longer, and then your head rested on his shoulder. Your arm was lazy at first but within minutes, it was around his waist, brushing the top of his pants and then pulling your body closer. You felt the scents mingling, and your head grew lighter. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling. Silence was indeed a great friend of yours, something you both cherished.

"Do you have someone?" You weren't as confident as you'd like to be, though you thought the answer was no, you still feared the response. He held your chin close to his, so near that you could see the scar near his eye and the more expressive fine lines. A tear threatened to escape as he appeared puzzled. You didn't like letting him think that you thought ill of him, but you couldn't move forward without answers. "Please, say you don't." Your voice faltered.

He ran his fingers over your face, letting his forehead rest against yours. He definitely didn't like seeing you upset. "I don't have anyone romantically," he chuckled softly, finding it attractive how you nestled into his touch. Even though you were uncertain, you wanted to hear it from him first, and he found that so mature of you. He felt guilty for thinking of it that way, as a warning that this wasn't entirely right.

You nodded, your heavy gaze fixed on him, and yet he stayed with you. "But what 'bout the girl in the photo in your room and the double bed..." Your body tensed, your face pliable in his hands.

Alex felt the weight of it and wanted the words to sound painless for you. It wasn't your fault, and there was an easy explanation; it was a concrete and unchangeable situation, only painful. He held you close when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, with just the right amount of strength, and his chest ached as his own vision welled up. "I don't have her anymore, not anymore," and with that, you understood. His gaze and his voice, the tone of affection, you didn't feel jealous, and in a way, you understood.

Your response was to cradle his cheeks and kiss his face, not liking to see him sad gave you the courage you'd been seeking all along. His arms enveloped you, a subtle embrace, his nose brushing against your thin top, your bodies aligning inch by inch. It felt right, and it didn't seem so wrong anymore.

He chuckled against your neck, lacking much humor. "It's been a while, I'm not trying to replace her or anything." His hand traced his eyes, and you nodded in understanding. You didn't sense that from him. "It's okay, I just didn't expect that and got scared." You whispered, letting your nose touch his while his forehead sweet bangs tickled you. Soon, your fingers were lightly tugging at the nape of his neck, and he didn't avoid your gaze; he only seemed upset about worrying you. Your lips brushed his eyes, tasting the saltiness, making you feel compassionate.

Nevertheless, you let your lips touch his, soft and warm, drawing out a lingering sigh. His grip tightened around you, and with that, your hands went from entwining his collar to pulling him closer, as if you could make it better; you wanted to make him feel great.

He solemnly withdrew from you, keeping you close while planting kisses on your face as he did so. As he pulled back, you realized that your senses were more attuned to him than to yourself. You couldn't pinpoint at what moment during all this you ended up in his lap. You didn't feel bad about it, but you still felt like you should.

"I'm sorry," you began, but he didn't let you pull away from him. He didn't need to explain, but he did it anyway. "I stay 'ere to teach, not because of her. I loved her, and I probably still would, but I'm not bound to her in any way, or sustained by being in love with someone I won't see anymore. I just don't see myself forgetting her entirely after years as if nothing had happened, just as I don't want to make you think this distances me from you or makes you believe I'm trying to replace her with someone else." He was precise, his voice trembling like never before. The coherence as something he had planned to say before hurt you; he wanted to say it but avoided it, and you didn't blame him. "I just want you to know these things." Your response was to hug him, craving the ability to merge with his body. It was dramatic, but you wanted to take some of that weight off him. His broader back, along with the embrace, covered you entirely, and you could feel his breathing calming as your thighs and arms clung to him.

With your head feeling lighter, your face nestled deeper into his chest. Your nose brushed against his neck, his warmth matching yours. The roughness of his baby beard made you smile into nothing. You could swear you felt him shiver. He kissed your face, his lips finding every space from your mouth to your neck, and your jolly reaction was to pull him closer by his t-shirt's collar. Your body burned, in a comforting way, and before falling asleep with him enveloped in you, you thought about how you should have done more or even asked for more. You no longer felt hesitant towards him.

…

Your eyes slowly opened, the lighting still cozy, just like the feeling of his chest. He held you tightly, his chin nestled on the top of your head, making you feel whole as one. As you shifted in his lap, you wanted to squeeze him, feel the flesh of his waist, and unbutton more of his shirt to accommodate your hand. You needed to take a deep breath, unable to avoid the initial sweat on your forehead. He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing your back and holding you as you bit your lip to hide a smile. His dark circles were more pronounced, his skin softer, although his eyes slightly puffy. You snuggled back into him, and he accommodated you, sealing the moment with more kisses.

"I'm sorry, Turner," the muffled laughter left you happy too, not that you weren't already. You ran your wrist over his mouth, he was still fixated on every part of you. In truth, you might not have known what you were doing, or you were just nervous. You didn't want to disappoint him.

"It's okay," he ran his fingers in circles on your waist. Your skirt crept up, and the position improved as he leaned against the wall. You could feel him better, every inch of him, and the thought that you were arousing him made you tense up a bit, even though it was good. He noticed and held your face, his lips touching where you had just tried to dry because you forgot you needed to breathe through your nose when kissing someone, "Hey, it's okay, lil' one. We don't have to do anything you don't want. I like you being with you."

You took his neck, your lips soft and moist, albeit timid against his skin, making him release adorable sounds that made you want more. This caused you to grip onto him, your hips moving closer to his, and you wished he would touch you, even if just for the mere thrill of feeling him.

"Please," you sighed, his face pressed against yours. Your fingers toyed with the closed buttons of his t-shirt as you shifted your gaze to your hands. Alex understood that you weren't entirely sure about what you were asking for, and this sweetly confirmed how much he considered you nothing but a good girl. It was evident that you wanted to be wonderful for him, and it was adorable to see in your eyes how you were eagerly waiting for him to lead the way in this dance of desire.

"I'm all yours, princess." He concluded with a mixture of pet names that both disconcerted and melted you into him. You took a deep breath as the pressure of his large hands adjusted your hips, your knees slightly burning, but you couldn't help but create the necessary friction to feel him better. You could indeed feel all of him, from the light fabric of his dress pants to the zipper, hitting you perfectly. "I know, little one, you're doing so great," he praised, mesmerized by how you lightly closed your eyes and then opened them to him, and he nodded in agreement, acknowledging your success. It was attractive to see you feeling secure and knowing how to make yourself feel good. With your hands still held against him, he intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing the remaining buttons to be undone, and then your palm found its place into his flesh.

He held you tighter, your body against his. "Don't move both together, use your legs or just grind against me, or you'll get tired quickly," he sounded precise, his deep and raspy voice filling you up. You obeyed. "That's my good girl," he said in a husky growl. This effectively worked to keep you going with him. His fingers gripped your nape, pulling your head to look at him, gazing down at your sleepy and pleading look. He clenched his jaw, sure that he could surrender for so little. His lips landed on your neck, his nose burying into your skin, so soon his teeth were pulling you into a light and pleasurable bite.

And then you were his, his hands working on you better than your legs were trying but failing to reach that level. Soon, he removed your top with the same gentleness and urgency with which he pulled you to him just to devour your breasts. His grip traveled to your waist, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin, encircling how hard they were and sucking them into his mouth as if it was genuinely pleasurable for him. The tip of his nose brushed against your skin, and he caused pain by nibbling on the flesh ready for him to take. You found yourself liking how every sound you made was heard by him, and he understood every nuance to repeat or intensify whatever he was doing to you.

You fit him well; being with him and having him wrapped around you made you feel confident. You had been embarrassed to be so spontaneous with someone before, but with him, it was different. His calm presence over you, the tranquility and affection, as well as the satisfaction in his eyes and touch when he saw you well, made you want more and more of him and to surrender yourself to him even more.

"You're so delicious," and he meant it. He squeezed you tightly, and you were worried you might have marks afterward. In a way, you liked it; you wanted to see him sprawled over you when it was all over.

And at all times he paid attention to your high socks, fixing them in the right place and smoothing them so they wouldn't move from where they were; keeping them pretty on yourself.

To soothe your whimper, he nestled his thumb against your clit, adjusting his movements until it felt like it was working for you. Alex was flushed, and you wanted to capture the look he was giving you. He didn't feel entirely guilty, but something weighed on him, as if he were corrupting you; the sensation wasn't bad at all. He pulled the flimsy fabric upwards, giving you more traction, lightly laughing at the pastel color and the central bow, knowing that it would haunt his mind for many days to come when he was feeling drowsy. It was magnificent, every detail of you, and he marveled at having your tired and prolonged sighs and teary eyes, just as he always thought they would be when your weak body collapsed onto his in such adorable spasms.

…

Your body ached, but the electricity in you felt good. Your hands ran clumsily through the pleasurable haze. He placed his lips on your forehead, lingering there until your body melded to his like a magnet. "I need to go, but I don't mind if you stay 'ere, lil' one," he sounded even better after waking up, husky and lazy, yet strong. Gradually, you became aware of the fact that you were in his bed, wearing the button-up shirt that you admired on his body. You smelled like him. You remembered him covering you with it, draping your figure while he kissed your collarbone gently. You were so drowsy that you were so certain it had been a dream.

"Go where?" You asked absently, looking around. He pulled up your socks, your legs entwining with his beneath the sheets. He loved this, wanted to have you there forever. You slept so serenely, comforted by his touch, and he thought about leaving you there. But he remembered how scared you had been at the idea of him leaving without notice the night he took you from the bar. He didn't want to cause that in you again, especially knowing he wouldn't be there when you woke up. "I have to teach in the morning, but I'll be back in the afternoon. I don't mind if you stay 'ere if you want."

"And do you want me to stay?" Your lips quivered; you understood his careful approach to your desires, but you wanted to hear it from him without reservations.

"I want you to stay, very much. I still need to read your new work, and I want to hear more from you." Your smile widened, and your face met his neck. He stroked your hair, keeping you close. You had almost forgotten that you had tucked prints of your writings into your bag to leave with him, or to have him read while you waited for his shrewd criticisms. You didn't care as much anymore; you wanted to hear him. You wanted to hear everything he had to say about you, whatever it may be. This thought, combined with the reminder that he preferred printed works over email submissions, made you beam more against him. He pulled you close, looking at you curiously.

"Okay, I can stay here, old man. It's good that I can finish reading the book you gave me." His cheeks flushed, and he got up, making you laugh more and grumble in disapproval. Alex didn't make a fuss and went to the wardrobe, putting on a clean t-shirt and taking off the pants he had worn earlier. He was serene, and he didn't mind you watching, your calm eyes on him, unraveling with each visible patch of skin. You wanted to scream about how everything in you wished this could be your routine. When you looked around, the photo was no longer there, and it didn't seem strange. In fact, you didn't feel jealous of it. However, knowing that he had put it away in another place made you feel good. You thought you might ask him more about it soon; she was important to Alex, and you understood and respected that. You thought it was only fair for him to know you didn't think badly of it.

"Promise you won't be too harsh when reading my stuff?" The buttons were still opened when he turned to you, his eyebrow arched, and his chocolate-colored eyes sparkling.

"I'm not cruel," you huffed, making him suppress a sly smile. "At least not with you." Your cheeks burned. He went into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he grabbed his toothbrush. You followed, sitting beside him on the large sink, attentive to him.

"You know, they told me to ask you to go easier on the students, at least in my class. They all seem to think you're pretty tough," you mentioned.

He chuckled. You liked this, it was intimate and comfortable. His hair was messy, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled; he was perfect. He wiped his mouth and kept his brows tense, "I'm not; the world is just not as perfect as most of you believe, and not everyone is as good as you." He was such a cute old bastard. You arched your brows, mimicking the expression he often made, and he laughed, softening for you. "I won't harm anyone; I just think lower grades make you all work harder." He clarified, placing himself between your legs, and you soon enclosed him in your embrace.

"That's cruel and unfair, Professor Turner." He kissed your face, seeing that it bothered you more than you pretended it did. "You don't have to agree with me, pet."

"And I don't." You sounded more irritated, and he liked that. "It's not very fair."

He laughed, nodding. "Well, know that I'm not going to change." You shook your head but stayed there. You pulled him closer, buttoning up the shirt just as he did, and then folding the cuffs as you had noticed he liked to leave them. He enjoyed that with a great goofy smile.

Briefly, his mind wandered to how he didn't have another place besides there. He might have already renewed the campus contract and then planned for another season in Europe. But for the first time in a long time, he found himself questioning that decision. He could go to other places if he wanted; his qualifications allowed him to move beyond where he was. Basically, all it took was his own mind. So he thought about postponing the decision of whether to renew or not. Things might change.

"Turner, aren't you going to be late?" He snapped back to reality, kissing your lips before he actually heard everything you said. His fingers played with the elastic of your knee socks, tugging gently and then letting go, causing you to gasp in pain against his mouth. "It's funny how you want to punish your students but don't even care about arriving on time." You narrowed your eyes, trying to sound intimidating, but your breath gave you away quite well. "You look beautiful like this." He ignored the irony and felt your legs tighten around him. "In my shirt, princess," he whispered between lip nibbles, amused at how easy it was to leave you speechless. He lifted your hips from the sink, aligning your body better with his.

"I want to feel you, taste you on tongue, princess, is that okay?" His nose brushed your face, trying to soothe you as his hands roamed around you, feeling you tense with nervousness. He loved that. Your lips touched his, with wetter and more intense kisses, and you felt silly when you realized from the way he was smiling that he wasn't talking about that. You swallowed hard and nodded. "I just won't know what to do," you said, feeling dizzy as you held your breath. "Don't do anything," his hands comforted your body, and you leaned in so that he could remove the damp fabric from under his (yours) shirt. "Just relax, don't think 'bout it for now." You agreed, eagerly watching him kneel in front of you.

You did as he said, settling in more comfortably and following his eyes as he spread your legs, playing slowly with your socks before slipping your legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his nose diving into the area, and then his teeth nibbled the skin as you gasped. He chuckled with delight. "Are you going to teach me how to make you feel good too, Mr. Turner?" He couldn't resist your sweet voice. He nodded, giving a kiss to your center, your flesh glistening in anticipation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, princess." And then that new, wet, and firm sensation invaded you, your eyes closed, your lips parted in a brief, silent sigh. Your breasts were highlighted in the white t-shirt, so hard that they were attractive to Alex's gaze from time to time.

Your fingers clutched his dark hair, while his eyes remained closed right after taking a great look at you, and he released such a beautiful prolonged, satisfied groan. The taste made him a little dizzy, but he loved every second of it. "You're divine, did you know that?" You couldn't respond anymore; his nose caressed you, and his fingertips marked your delicate skin. He liked the time he was taking; it was nothing more than his tongue, and he relished the sensation of exploring you slowly. You also liked it, and that was enough for him. He could feel his chin wet and his breath falter, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "Don't stop, please." And all you heard was the hum of his confident laughter against you, along with the recent texture of the beard growing, while you only thought about making it easier for him as you spread yourself further and fully surrendered to him. You just knew you would feel the same way tasting him on your lips and tongue.

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods

tagged only for teacher's pet (the one who asked for and people who asked for the part2) : @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @missbabyjay @kayla1717 @ladydraculasthings @tyatthiapoewy @depthhell @hvncae @raven-ql @kittyrob0t @jakethsims @mayaawesome10 @michelleisheres-blog @love-me-until-ilove-myself @est3va @viviannagiorgini

google forms!¡ (taglist)

Let me know if something is wrong or if you're not comfortable!

Also, I'm taking thoughts/ideas for part3 (it'll be the last one, I promise!)

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #alex turner x y/n #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner imagine #fanfic

438 notes · View notes

crucifiedfaerie · 1 year ago

Text

Gods & Monsters ༉₊˚✧

GodOfDeath!Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader AU

(THIS IS A DARK!FIC PLEASE READ ALL WARNINGS AND THE AUTHORS NOTE BEFORE PROCEEDING !!!)

➴ Summary: Death has followed you like a shadow your entire life. After losing everything, you call out to him in a moment of desperation. Maybe that was his plan all along.

➴ Word Count: 2.2k

➴ Warnings: 18+ MDNI under any circumstances, DARK!FIC, fem!reader, dom!kylo, a lot of angst, BLOOD, major and minor character death, reader is suicidal, kylo is the god of death, kylo is obsessive, selfish, and manipulative, stalker!kylo, reader is naïve, a little soft!kylo bc he loves her but again he's selfish so should i really call it that ??, soul selling, SMUT (manipulation therefore DUB-CON, very rough sex, unprotected PiV sex, sadist!kylo for a second ??, naked sub/fully clothed dom, dacryphilia kind of, light bruising, blasphemy and sacrilege), typos probably

➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams )

A/N: guys did i just lowkey write a snuff fic? maybe. (yes) its left up to you to decide if this has a happy ending or not. kylo is selfish and manipulative, yeah, but hes also sexy and in love so idek how to feel myself. @enviedear and i have been playing around with the idea of godofdeath!kylo in our dms so special thanks to liv my beloved <3 i hope you guys enjoy and i also completely understand if some of you aren't chill with the themes of this fic.

It appeared that death followed you wherever you went, trailing behind you like an invisible shadow you couldn't escape. It started when you were younger with any pet you would get mysteriously dying, you don't know when but at some point you had given up on trying to keep them. Friends and family followed suit over the years, all of them as tragic as the last one. It was as if Death was puppeteering your life, tugging on the strings that held your heart together... and you didn't quite understand why.

You couldn't seem to remember what it was you'd been thinking about on your walk home. Maybe it was what your mother had decided to make for dinner. You stared at the pot still boiling in the eerily quiet kitchen. Or perhaps it was how you had promised your sister you'd play with her when you came home. Your eyes darted to the toys that had been carelessly scattered over the floor of your family's shared bungalow, noticing how a light mist of crimson coated them.

You tried to remember, but one singular word kept interrupting your thoughts. Blood. All you could smell... was blood.

You tried to scream but it was as if the air had been stolen from your lungs. All you could see was red. Red. Red everywhere. On the floors. On the walls. When you saw them, the shriek that escaped your heaving chest pierced the silence of your home, bouncing off the walls and ringing in your ears.

Your family was dead. Slaughtered and discarded on the floor as if they were simply livestock.

As you backed away, you nearly slipped in the puddle you realized you were standing in. The sticky, wet sound your shoes made as you moved was revolting and you felt acid burning at your throat. You stumbled into the living room, just barely making it to the soft carpet before falling to your knees. You heaved, but nothing happened, your empty stomach having nothing for your body to forcibly expel.

You collapsed to the floor, body wracked with sobs. You screamed and screamed until you thought your vocal cords might tear.

Gone. They're all gone.

You don't know how long it had been. Maybe hours, maybe days. You laid there, your screams subsided to sobs and you wanted nothing more than to be with them... No, you wanted to be them.

Why couldn't it have been me? Why my mother? Why my sister? Please, I just want to die. Please Please.

For what felt like an eternity, you silently begged for death. How ironic, you thought, that you begged for the thing that had taken everything from you. You had already dealt with plenty of loss to last you several lifetimes, and now you had lost the last two people you loved. There was no physical pain on this planet that would ever compare to what you felt now. You only wanted it to be over.

You saw something out of the corner of your eye. A tall, dark figure, lurking in the shadowy corner of the room. You looked up, attempting to blink the tears from your raw eyes, unable to make out any distinct features of the being that stood before you.

"You- Did you do this?!" You sobbed. "Did you k-kill my..." You couldn't even say it. If you said it out loud, that meant it was real.

The figure stepped forward, allowing light from the window to cast down upon him. Your teary eyes widened as you realized who this man... this being, was. The aquiline nose, dark locks, and scar that trailed down his cheek you'd recognize anywhere. Kylo Ren, the God of Death, stood before you. You had only heard of him in legends, but he was even more marvelous looking in person.

"I do not take. I only collect." Ren said firmly, yet a hint of compassion laced his words, making you feel... safe? In any other situation, you would have laughed at the idea of feeling safe around the literal personification of death itself, but you were in no mood for laughing. He continued. "I hear souls call out to me, and I answer."

"My family... who did this? Why wasn't I-" You choked out, weakly pointing to the adjacent room behind you. You began to sob again, feeling hot tears run down your face.

"Raiders..." Ren knelt on the floor in front of you, getting down to your level before continuing. "Sweet, mourning lamb, there's nothing you could have done. They went quickly, I made sure of that." He reached out a large hand to gingerly wipe the tears from your face, and you melted into the divine warmth of his fingers.

"Did you come b-back for me too? Please, I don't want to be here anymore- I can't do it without them, please! I'm nothing!" You begged him through sobs.

"Not to me." Ren sighed calmly, a sympathetic smile resting on his expression. "I do not answer the calls of souls whose time are not up... but you're different, special..." He trailed off, his voice still firm but sounding like he was was pondering something.

"I don't understand..." Your voice was just above a whisper.

Ren paused for a moment, the two of you sitting in silence as his dark eyes scanned yours. He held out his hand to you and finally spoke. "I want you to join me. Let it all die, let everything go, and I will give you what you so wish for."

Your eyes widened at his request, staring into his intense gaze. "Join you?" You croaked.

He nodded slightly. "Rule by my side, little lamb. I feel so drawn to you, I always have... And I know you've felt it too." His tone was soft, but there was a small shred of desperation there.

"And everyone I love? My family and friends?... Will I see them again?" You began to turn your head to look at the door to the kitchen, but a strong hand grabbed your chin at light speed, turning your head to look at him again.

"No- You're still... Holding on! Let go!" Ren raised his voice, startling you. He was inches from your face and his eyes were filled with pure panic, as if he were afraid you were changing your mind.

Memories of your family and friends played like a movie reel in your head. So many moments that you'd never get back. They were gone, and you'd never see them again. What's done is done and you had nothing now.

But as you stared into Ren's wild, dark eyes, you saw an offer being handed to you that you couldn't refuse. An option to never be alone again. To forget every detail of your life as it stands. To not feel the pain that laid so heavily on your heart and soul.

I understand.

You inhaled sharply before placing your shaking and much smaller hand in his. "I'll join you." You said it so quietly, you weren't sure if he had even heard it.

Ren certainly did, however, and within seconds he pounced, closing the gap between you. It was as if your words were an invitation he had been eagerly waiting for and his warm lips crashed into your cold, trembling ones. You felt every emotion at once coursing through your body, and you thought you might spontaneously combust at any moment.

The kiss of death.

He did not pull away though, he only continued to kiss you with more urgency. He pushed you backwards until your back was pressed against the plush carpet. When you touched him, he felt like he was made of marble. As if you needed any more emphasis on the fact that this was no human man that loomed over you.

Ren's large hands began to explore your body, his fingers running along your sides, causing a warm bolt of electricity to shoot through your core. You instinctually moaned against his mouth, and you felt him smirk.

He trailed his mouth down your neck, leaving red and purple marks, before pulling away to admire his work. "You already look so divine in this life... I can't begin to imagine what you'll look like in the next." Ren's voice was low, smooth, and his words dripped with honey. It elicited another moan from you, causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

At near light speed, he practically ripped your clothes off, pulling your shirt over your head first before making quick work of your pants and underwear. You were left naked and writhing on the floor as you watched him work at his belt, kneeling over you.

You couldn't help but think of how morally wrong this all was. This was no simple kiss of death... No, this was blasphemous. Sacrilegious in every sense of the word and you... loved it. You loved how your body betrayed you every chance it got, ignoring every single alarm bell that rang in the part of your brain that clutched onto what little was left of your sanity. It was exhilarating.

With quick fingers, Ren freed his cock from the confines of his pants, causing it to spring upwards. You marveled at him, wondering if maybe this was his weapon of choice. Maybe he would impale you on his dick and literally fuck you to death. You saw him smirk as if he had heard your thought. He most certainly did.

You watched, your body trembling, as he lined himself up with your entrance. Ren did not give you a moment to think before slamming himself into you, bottoming out within seconds. Your view of him was clouded by white-hot stars and he watched as your face contorted from the pain and pleasure of being split in two by him.

Ren's thrusts were erratic, unrelenting as he plowed into your cunt. His fingers dug into your hips, surely leaving bruises... not that it would matter tomorrow. You were completely cock drunk, under some divine spell he had surely cast over you. "Feels... s-s-so.... g-" You trailed off, lost in the violent pleasure he inflicted on your small frame.

He chuckled at your futile attempt to form a sentence. "Look at you, little lamb. Already coming undone at my hand. You want release so badly don't you?" His voice was full of compassion but his words were laced with darkness.

You knew it wasn't only your impending climax that he was referring to. You whined, your eyes welling with tears as you nodded frantically. "Please." You let out in a choked sob.

Ren let out a moan and angled his hips to thrust into you deeper, hitting your g-spot again and again with each erratic snap of his hips. He leaned down slowly, his hair tickling your cheek. "Then let go, sweet thing. Let everything go." He whispered in your ear.

You became putty in Ren's hands as you came, clenching around his cock as he continued to violently plow into you. His lips found yours and he kissed you with wild desperation. After a few more thrusts, he followed suit, bottoming out one last time and letting out a groan as he came deep inside of your cunt.

As you came down from your high, you watched hazily as he fumbled with something on the side of his belt. Ren looked down at you with adoration, and with a swift movement of his hand, you felt ice-cold metal pressed against your naked chest.

When you looked down, it took you a moment to process what had happened. Ren had impaled you through the chest with his lightsaber... yet you felt no pain. Only an intense warmth that radiated through every cell of your body.

Your eyes darted up to his face, illuminated in the crimson glow of his weapon. His expression was soft, attentive. You tried to speak but only a choked whine came out, the air having been stolen from your lungs by the fiery plasma that crackled inside of you.

Ren quickly brought his hand up to hold the side of your face, wiping stray tears and gently stroking your jaw with his thumb. You didn't even realize you had started crying again and you began to taste copper. "Shhh, don't be frightened my mourning lamb. It will all be over soon, just let go... Let go, and you will be mine forever..." His voice was deep but it had a sickeningly sweet quality to it.

You couldn't fully decipher what he was saying, so you focused on how nice he sounded instead. How merciful, you thought, for this voice to be the last one you'd ever hear on this mortal plane.

Your vision began to tunnel in on Ren's face. You thought you heard him call you his mourning lamb. What was it you were mourning again? You couldn't seem to remember what originally got you into this situation. You couldn't seem to remember anything. Anything besides Kylo Ren, that is.

"Finally... At last, you are mine."

The last thing you saw was the smile on his face. There was something... dark about it. His eyes were intense and he looked excited, as if he were finally getting something he'd been waiting ages for. Before you could dwell on it for too long though, everything went black.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfic #star wars #starwars fanfic #star wars x reader #star wars sequel trilogy #the force awakens #the last jedi #the rise of skywalker #saint writes !#crucifiedfaerie #dark!fic #kylo ren dark!fic #god!kylo au #kylo ren au

145 notes · View notes

peterrefur · 10 months ago

Text

As long as her hands are so warm ⅏ Wilbur Soot x GN!Reader

Summary: William Gold, a performer, seeks a break from fame and proposes a trip with his partner, Reader, to take a break from life and slow down for a bit. Notes: Hey Mate!!! I’m Peter and I say right away that English is not my first language. I’m curious to hear your opinion about this work in the comments! Enjoy!

𝒜s LoveJoy and I extinguished the candles marking our 100th concert celebration, a wave of relief washed over me. The weight of the relentless schedule lifted, granting me the rare opportunity to relax and simply be; free from the ceaseless churn of thoughts and obligations.

I couldn't help but marvel at artists who thrive in the whirlwind of weekly gigs, or even more frequent performances! It's crazy. Especially for someone like me—an introvert who grapples with panic during crowded spaces.

𝒮o, now lying in the cocoon of our hotel bed, I steal a moment to gaze at my beloved, my anchor amidst the chaos of life on the road. They nestle closer, their rhythmic breaths stirring gentle wisps of air against my unshaven chest. With tender fingers, I weave through their hair, finding solace in the simple intimacy of our connection, knowing they'll stand by me through every storm, even when words fail to express my love.

Continuing to stroke their hair, but as I reach for distraction, checking my bank account on my phone, a peculiar sensation grips my stomach and tightens around my neck—a prelude to either nausea or panic.

I try to calm my racing breath and look towards the window in the hotel room.

𝒯he notion of living in America flits through my mind, a tantalizing prospect amid the newfound respite from the relentless demands of fame and performance.

Maybe?

Perhaps now that I'll have a break from everything... From social media, from singing, from fans, from spotlight.

Am I able to take a break? Do I even know what that means?

After all, isn't the pursuit of self-discovery worth the risk of venturing into the unknown?

* * *

“𝒮o, if I understand you correctly, you want to spend New Year's Eve in New York?" Reader inquires, their voice tinged with curiosity as they zip up the suitcase resting on the bed.

I scratch the back of my neck and lean against the bathroom door, brushing my teeth. "Not really, I want to go back to England with you for two days, maybe three. Repack. Then, we could return to New York and stay there for a while. Until March, perhaps even April?" I respond tentatively, uncertain of how my suggestion will be received.

Knowing Reader's preference for structured plans and aversion to spontaneous ‘getaways’, I brace myself for their response. “Of course, I'll organise it; I've already found a small flat, not even a studio. One bedroom connected to the kitchen and living room, but enough for us. Plus, there's a sofa if we need extra sleeping space. And don't worry, we have enough savings for it, we have enough savings for that." I say and resume brushing my teeth while listening to the silence of the hotel room.

𝒜s the moments tick by, the absence of Reader's response weighs heavily on me. Did I say something wrong? Should I have approached the topic differently? Doubt creeps in, mingling with the lingering fear of disrupting Reader's plans and inadvertently coming across as selfish.

𝒫erhaps, I muse silently, I should take matters into my own hands. Maybe Reader already has plans in mind, and my impromptu proposal is throwing a wrench into their carefully crafted itinerary. Am I being unreasonable? Self-cantered, even? Self-obsessed bitch?

I spit out the toothpaste and look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

A sudden realization dawns upon me. Perhaps Reader is looking for a change, just like I am. Maybe my impromptu proposal has struck a chord within them. With newfound determination, I decide to approach Reader and express my thoughts openly. As I approach them, their eyes meet mine, mirroring the flicker of curiosity that dances within me.

𝒲ithout hesitation, I blurt out my idea, stumbling over my words in a rush of enthusiasm.

"I'm tired ... mentally. I know how much is waiting for me..." I manage a faint smile, the weight of anticipation and expectation pressing down on me. "as well as for you in the new year. 2024 promises to be very good for me. For you. For us. And I not only want a break from Wilbur Soot, but I want William Gold, to be with you now. Even if you were to force me out of bed like you used to. All I want is to rest. And I will fully understand if you say no. Because at the end of the day, I'm the one dragging you on tour and changing your plans for months." As the words spill from my lips, I can't help but acknowledge the weight of my confession. I admit, perhaps for the first time, that I haven't always prioritized their well-being amidst the whirlwind of my own ambitions and aspirations.

𝒯heir eyes fix on me, penetrating and perceptive, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. I instinctively avert my gaze, unable to withstand the intensity of their scrutiny. In that moment, I feel naked, stripped bare of pretense and facade.

Yet, even in my vulnerability, I find solace in the knowledge that I've spoken my truth, laying bare my desires and vulnerabilities before them.

"Is this what you need? No. Wait," Reader pauses, their brows furrowing in contemplation as they gaze into my eyes. Their smaller hands gently cup my cheeks, grounding me with their touch. "Do you want me to be there for you while you relax? I don't want to be a problem or a distraction," they inquire, their voice carrying a depth of emotion that eludes my grasp.

"You, a problem?" I shake my head, disbelief tinging my words. "I could be the problem. All you are is a sun in my day, even when the day is full of rain. I want you by my side," I declare, the sincerity of my words reverberating in the air between us. Yet, even as I speak, a nagging doubt creeps in, whispering the fear of sounding manipulative or imposing my desires onto them.

𝒞an I truly allow myself to lean on them, to relinquish control and accept their support without reservation? And can they, in turn, offer their presence without feeling burdened or constrained? As I search their eyes for answers, I find solace in the warmth of their touch and the tenderness of their gaze.

I realise that perhaps, just perhaps, I have found the person I have been looking for so, so long.

"I will be there for you," their words, simple yet profound, stir something deep within me. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes, an inexplicable surge of emotion welling up within my chest. Without hesitation, I envelop them in a tight embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of their embrace and the sanctuary of their presence.

As I bury my face where their neck meets their shoulder, a sense of peace washes over me, chasing away the shadows of doubt and uncertainty that have plagued me for so long. In their arms, I find refuge from the storms of life, a haven of acceptance and understanding that I've long yearned for.

"Thank you."

* * *

𝒮pending days together with them feels like a waking dream, each moment steeped in a timeless embrace that defies the constraints of the world around us. We walk hand in hand, weaving through the bustling streets, our laughter mingling with the rhythm of life pulsating around us.

A trip to Whole Foods becomes an adventure in culinary exploration, as we meander through aisles adorned with vibrant produce and artisanal delights. With each item we select, we exchange knowing glances and playful banter, our shared excitement palpable in the air.

Exchanging knit-caps becomes a symbol of our bond, a tangible reminder of the warmth and comfort we find in each other's presence. Exchanging knit-caps becomes a symbol of our bond, a tangible reminder of the warmth and comfort we find in each other's presence. They specifically learn how to knit to make me a cap.

Every US monument we encounter becomes a portal to the past, as we recount its anachronistic history with fervent enthusiasm. With each story we share, we delve deeper into the rich tapestry of American heritage, finding connection and meaning in the echoes of the past.

Spending time eating popcorn while watching movies becomes a cherished ritual, a sanctuary of relaxation and intimacy amidst the chaos of the world outside. As we snuggle close on the couch, the glow of the screen illuminating our faces, we lose ourselves in the magic of cinema.

Burning one joint for two, as we pass the makeshift torch between us, sharing in the euphoria of a shared high. With each inhale, we surrender to the intoxicating embrace of the moment, our bodies melting into the blissful haze of mutual contentment.

Sex becomes an act of pure devotion, a celebration of our connection and mutual desire to make each other feel truly alive. With each touch, each caress, we lose ourselves in the ecstasy of the moment, our bodies becoming vessels of passion and pleasure.

In those fleeting moments, as we bask in the warmth of each other's presence, our hearts overflow with gratitude for the gift of love and companionship that we share. Whether embarking on a little trip to visit mutual friends or eagerly awaiting their arrival at our doorstep, every moment spent in the company of loved ones becomes an opportunity for joy and connection.

𝒪ur journey to Niagara Falls with Leandra, Joe, his partner, and Ash. As we stand in awe of nature's majestic spectacle, the roar of the cascading waterfalls echoing in our ears, we find solace in the shared experience and the laughter that bubbles forth from our lips.

Yet, amidst the beauty of the natural world and the warmth of friendship, it is the presence of Reader that truly fills me with a sense of fulfilment. With each glance exchanged and each tender moment shared, I feel myself growing more and more ready for a future with them by my side.

𝐼n their eyes, I see the promise of endless possibilities and the unwavering support of a true partner.

#wilbur soot x Olga #wilbur soot x you #mcyt wilbur #mcyt x Olga #mcyt x you #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot #wilbur x you #wilbur post #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #mcyt x reader #Mammalian Sighing Reflex

46 notes · View notes

silly-little-soul · 5 months ago

Text

SDV Highschool AU

A/N - in celebration of my graduation today!!

Very rushed and not formatted properly cause I’m at prom rn and writing this on my phone I’ll fix it later but like i wanted to post sth for the occassion

Summary: sdv highschool au, the ones under the +++ are x reader

Characters: Harvey, Shane, Elliot, Haley (cause theyre my favs to write for)

Warnings: drug mention

~~~~~~~~~~~

HARVEY

- Big nerd

- He’s planning to study medicine so of course he puts accordingly much effort

- Awkward as fuck icl

- Everyone lowkey loves him cause he’s always really helpful

- Aka almost the entire class just copies his homework

- Lives off coffee in every life and scenario

- (One of the) best in class and beloved by the teachers but not annoying about it

- If y’all wanna act like there wasn’t any homework in front of the teacher cause no one did it (except him ofc bcs NERD) he’ll totally play along

- Which is probably why the whole reason it worked

- Some ppl def have a crush on him

- But he’s just so awkward and oblivious… I love him

- Also not rlly into the kind of dating that’s most common among teens? Does that make sense??

+++

- So for you, let’s say you’ve been his friend since forever, best friends perhaps

- He’s had a crush on you so long but has like no idea how to go about it

- And you think he’s not interested cause he has friendzoned you so hard multiple times before

- It was a panic reaction don’t blame him

- I can picture you coming together at sone school dance and it’s like really cliche

- I’ll make these longer later I’m sorry

SHANE

- stoner

- Like sorry but

- Maybe it’s my Connor Murphy obsession or maybe I’m right

- I’m basing this v much on mentally ill Shane ik that backstory only semi much works with a highschool setting but we dont rlly know abt pre mental illness shane so

- Generally not bad at school he just has intense down phases where he completely falls behind (relatable)

- Works at some fast food chain and hates it but yk money is money

- No one ever shows up for parent teacher talks bcs he doesnt want the school to know about his family and his family about school yk

- Quiet most of the time

- Mean when talked to

+++

- But also like he doesn’t rlly mean it with some people you just gotta po ker if he does for you and talk to him

- Good news: you’re very much an exception

- Phew

- I’m thinking forced project or something

- No actually I’m thinking one of you is the others dealer

- Probs starting as a kinda fwb thing that becomes serious

- There’s sm potential here icl

- I’m gonna rewrite all of this next week and get more into it

ELLIOT

- The weirdest kid in the grade but beloved by all

- Writes a lot, probably started a club that’s related to that somehow

- Wins a lot of those lil writing competitions schools do

- A romantic, hands out flowers or something to people on Valentine’s

- Like super mysterious and no one can tell if he does it on purpose or if it just kinda is like that

- Def has some ppl crushing on him

- Has been ppls secret admirer before

- Except it’s not rlly secret bcs who else would do allat

+++

- So when he falls for you it’s like that too

- You get mysterious letters and flowers from an admirer

- Except it’s not mysterious bcs Elliot everyone knows no one else does that!!!

- You pretend not to realize a while tho cause it’s sweet

- And then after a but you just give him a secret admirer letter back

- Even if it’s not quite as poetic as his

- He appreciates it sm cause it’s so rare people match his energy

- You’re couple goals but also lowkey make ppl sick with all your sap

HALEY

- Pretty popular

- She’s very confident and can be a bit brash so you might get the idea she’s a typical mean girl but she’s actually pretty sweet

- Especially with the girls

- You might get a comment about your messy makeup but best believe she’s fixing it up for you

- Girl in trouble? She’s right there without hesitation

- Has told so many of the guys off before for harassing girls or not taking a hint

- She’s a guardian angle ngl

- A whole bunch of people having a crush on her and it’s getting kinda rough

- If the person is respectful she’s really nice in rejecting them (or at least tries), she was mean about it like once and felt so bad after

- She knows she comes off as pretty harsh and it’s not always intentional yk

+++

- You probably meet through extra activities i forgot the name

- She gets a crush p quickly but like y’all wait till you rlly know you work as a duo before you dare ask her out

- Like you wanna have sth behind your question and what you say yk

- Okay i gotta stop writing but !!!!!! will fix this up and write more next week

- Also send requests or fandom talk please and thank you

#sdv x reader #sdv shane x reader #sdv elliott #sdv elliot x reader #sdv haley #sdv haley x reader #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv harvey x reader #stardew valley

50 notes · View notes

shatcey · 28 days ago

Text

Oh my f*** gosh! I'm shocked at how much you were able to notice in that little video. Honestly, I really thought there was nothing in it. So after reading this, I rewatched it and realized what you meant.

But... I'd like to add a bit…

Lampposts

I see them not as something that brings light, but as something that points the direction. And they pointed to the moon. And if Jude was in the first scene as well, then in the last one… only the moon. Maybe it reflects Jude's way of thinking… At first, he was obsessed with this direction, but eventually stopped. All guys change in one way or another, and this may be his symbol.

1010

I like Tsuki's idea that 1010 means "angel". That was how he could think of her. She is his angel, the person who saved him. From his obsession, from a goal he could never achieve? Or… and here I'm thinking about a very simple meaning of 0 and 1. This is binary code. It's just black and white. I think maybe Jude sees the world from that perspective. There are only two options, two types of people, two way of leaving (in the light or in the shadows)… etc. And if you add the meaning of "angel" to this, Jude will think that she is his light. Something he probably rarely sees, if at all. It reminds me of Harrison. Speaking of which.

Kate

The scene with Kate in the rain is part of Harrison's CG. Well… this is the only CG in which Kate has her back to us… so, actually, it was the only option they had.

This explains why our girl suddenly doesn't look at Jude. Well, of course she's looking at Harrison!

A sudden thought… This can't be, right? Well… on Harrison's route, where was a big part about Jude's injury. And at some point I completely forgot what route I was actually reading about. Perhaps this is some kind of apology. Hey, Harry, we remember how we stole the readers' attention to you on your route or something. Silly, I know.

Tick-tock and rewind

I noticed that Big ben is showing… midnight. This is the border between days. End… or the beginning, depending on the point of view. And then we hear the rewind sound, so… We're going back in time. And that explains why Jude looks so sweet in the first picture. Perhaps this is the end of his story. In that case, my previous thought about the lampposts had something completely different in mind. The lampposts are already pointed at him, not at the moon…

Orange

I agree with Ciele that the room with the blackboard is probably his room. Bookshelves with lots of books, a blackboard with some notes… I definitely see him there. But what struck me the most was how bright this room was. Ellis's room was green by day and gray by night. Our beloved fluffy sunny boy is actually quite grey inside… But here… It's a very bright orange sunset… In Jude's room. I don't even know what to think about it. This should tell us something, but for some reason my brain malfunctioned.

Another orange scene on the bridge. There is a lot of this color in the picture, which is hard to miss. I'm a big fan of this color, it inspires energy and creativity and is not as aggressive as red.

So, to figure out how to combine my view of this color and Jude… I looked into Google. And somehow I stumbled upon this article. I just asked Google and it gave me this.

First, there's the funny coincidence of using Robin as an example. And the last thing… different countries have different meanings. So, in the last sentence, we learned everything we need to know about Jude, and we already knew about it.

And back to time

If we think about the difference in hours we see, 10:10 (probably evening? or is it morning?) and 12:00 (at night, the picture is at night). So… if we assume that a person's life is 24 hours. And if we assume a life expectancy of 80 years. This is a little less than 2 hours gave us 6.66 years. Not that much… Maybe less, if life was really shorter then.

But… if it were 10 o'clock in the morning… Perhaps will give Jude's age. If you take 80 for 24, then I got 33.33…

But...

I don't think the developers would have provided us with such information. As usual, I dig deep and probably enjoy the process too much.

The only thing that really has nothing to argue with… It's about how obsessed Jude looks. And this… reminds me of Ellis. You know what sprite I mean, right? Actually it seemed a bit odd to me how the developers slightly hinted at the previous routes. Spilling something red looks like Ellis' jam. And the rain… There was CG with Roger under the rain. Although I do not know if it was intentional or not.

Jude Jazza's PV Dissection ☾.

Beneath the cut for event and other suitor's route spoilers. This is just for fun, and please feel free to kindly share what you think! To be honest, I don't think I have anything interesting to add, but here goes it...

My First Thought: Let’s just state the obvious and say that Jude’s route is going to be ANGSTY and WILD!!! That much is definite by watching the PV, and that’s pretty much what we see in his events as well. The animation was beautiful. There’s a A LOT of recycled CGs, and majority of his lines come from his gacha cards and bond stories, but it gets the job done.

However, I feel like Jude is still very much under wraps. His PV barely gave us anything to go on that we don’t already know about, or haven't theorized. I’ve watched it like 15 times. I counted the number of hands on the clocks to see if there were 13 (there’s not), and paused to search the outline of Big Ben, and things like the shadows to see if something was hinted or hidden, but nothing.

Of course, that doesn’t mean it didn’t give us anything at all, but before we get into that, let’s just recap the premise of Act 2:

In Act 2, Kate has already been the fairytale keeper for one full week, and that’s when Vogel enters the picture with the claim that they want to be “friends” with Crown. Harrison knows that they’re lying about something, and Darius, as we learn, is looking for “family members.”

Now…..

Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick, Tick - The ticking clock is very prominent in his trailer, and that makes sense because Jude’s fairytale curse is associated with time. His icon is an hourglass, and he is very cognizant in events/routes about wasting time. Additionally, it’s interesting to note that several of Jude’s events often mention specific lengths of years that have passed, such as, Dark IF, GHR, Island Lust, and a bond story.

As far as the PV goes, I think it may be hinting that Jude is running out of time in the sense of accomplishing a goal, which will in turn fulfill a promise. Our average life span today is about 80 years, but back then it was much shorter, and I feel like Jude needs a lot of time to accomplish what he is doing. It could be that a single lifetime is not enough for him to accomplish it, but he is going to try anyway. Such as? Him traveling to the moon. I feel like the PV points to this at the outset with that giant full moon behind Big Ben. I think this may be a CG we get.

Conversely, it could be that he is running out of time in the sense that he is dying of an illness. We know for a fact that he suffers from seasonal asthma (which is triggered with enclosed spaces filled with smoke), he smokes himself, but he also suffered from childhood malnutrition, and that can cause a lot of issues. Still, I don’t know how strong of a theory this is as Jude has no problem with physical exertion or activity……not looking at that one other gut I love in IkePri.

Additionally, a part of me feels like he’s just tired and he wants to die. To be honest, all these guys have some kind of death wish in one form or another, but in terms of Jude, Ellis said that he looked like he was going to fall into the river as he looked at the moon while chain smoking, and Roger said Jude looked like he was vacantly staring at the moon as if he had given up on something.

Notably, in Roger’s past records, we learn that Jude uses cigarettes to fuel his rage to keep him living, and Kate also mentioned in his Cruise Liner event that anger is a great motivator.

So, for all intents and purposes, Jude is being kept alive by his own rage, cigarettes, the promise he made, and Roger. THANK YOU ROGER! That’s what I feel at least.

Rewinds/Record Scratches: I think glitchy rewind/record-scratching sound is being cleverly used to note the different tones we are going to see in his route, like I mentioned before, it’s going to be angsty and wild (that’s what I feel anyway).

However, I will say that a part of me feels like it’s a nod to all the times he says things like, ‘once you’ve lost something, you can’t get it back.' How many of us wish we could rewind and do things over or see someone we’ve lost again, even if it were just for a minute?

Jude said in Roger’s route that once someone is gone those left behind are stuck feeling a void, and I think he’d do whatever he could to rewind time if that were in his power. However, cue that jazzy music and we find ourselves in the interior of a…..

Warehouse: No doubt by the docks that Jude frequents for deliveries, and while it’s nothing major, it does indicate one of the settings we will likely be at. Although, this is pretty obvious to most of us because in both his first event and his one year anniversary event, they are at the warehouses by the docks.

Personally, I loved the detail of the seagulls, not that is important in anyway, but I just got excited to see a visual of it instead of just imagining it. However, I am hoping to see something different in terms of what we’ve already seen in both of those events. Kate getting caught by someone who broke their contract with Jude or is after Jude, and she is caught in the middle. Is that too much to ask?

Papers: We quickly shift to an office like space, whether this is located at Raven or at Crown, there is something very important to note in this scene, and that’s not only the rows of books behind our clever mobster, but the bulletin board that has notes stuck all over them.

At first, I thought that this could be business plans, product information or designs, business targets, or information about the personal lives of those whom Jude makes contracts with. Ultimately, I think that these are engineering designs and research papers that he’s written and/or reviewed for……moon travel. If you look closely, one paper in particular has a definite design on it.

Why am I so hellbent on this? Because Jude says himself in his bond levels that he’s trying to nab all the researches and scientists that he can as quickly as possible, and that he was going to have Ellis look into the authors who wrote the papers he had been reading. On a random note, I don’t think this would be his office space at Raven, but his personal office or room at Crown.

About that Bridge Scene: You know, the one where he looks completely over this shit as he smokes a cigarette? Then all of a sudden he shoots you that look like he’s gonna tear you up because he’s annoyed, and you’re like: Impregnate me, please? That one. So, the night that Ellis met Jude, Ellis said that he was standing on the bridge looking like he was about to fall into the river.

I believe this may be the second CG we may get of Jude in his route, and I want to know why he goes to the bridge? Is there special meaning to it? Did he visit that place with his loved one? Was a promise made under the moon? Is this were he wants….things to end? And forgive this last bit, but I can’t help but think of the song ‘Moon River’ when he’s at that bridge.

Ah, to hell with it, It’s too pretty not have posted again:

How long: When we get to the scene of Jude and Kate in a somewhat awkward rain scene (I agree with my friends, her sprite looks out of place), he asks Kate how long she is planning to stick next to him. Here again, we have a form of time being hinted at, and Kate’s time with Crown should end in three weeks time.

Still, we don’t know how far along we are in his route when he asks her this question, so it’s difficult to say how much time Kate has remaining with him at this point. What we can guess is that she’s been at Crown long enough to have seen Jude do horrendous things - all of Crown - for that matter.

Additionally, she will have seen the filthy underbelly of England at that point, perhaps in the form of drugs, SA, human-trafficking and the like, if his events are any indication of that. Not to mention his cruel attempts to force her to give up on being fairytale keeper. So, how do you think Kate will answer, and will her answer disrupt his plans??

Unhinged, Possessive, Obsessive Jude: Is he really though? I think so. This is what I think will be the third CG - belonging to his Mad Love End. Did you all see those eyes??? He is UNHINGED, and I am HERE for it. I think it really drives home the point too that he is going to make her pay for placing a curse on him for the rest of her life - that’s Judese for - I’ll make you pay for making me love you for as long as you live.

Seeing him that expression in his eyes and the way he plays with her hair, (this is also a thing Jude does in his events), really exemplifies the phrase that he also uses in that their being together is madness.

Thinking about it, it really wasn’t until the Island Lust story that we started to see a small glimmer of Mr. Jazza’s jealousy, and that’s because Jude is often cold and controls any emotions that could be linked to her romantically. But we slowly start to see this change with Island lust, I gushed how he didn’t like Kate thinking about the other Crown members when he was near her, and in effect, ignoring him.

In the Jude vs. Nica event, we got even more of his jelly side when he learned that Kate and Nica are on a first name basis, even though they just met. CUTEST THING EVER.

And finally, in his Dark Mafia card, Jude is ready to commit murder over the guys who are looking at Kate. So, I’m really looking forward to seeing how jealous or possessive he may get once he gives into his feelings.

Pocket Watch: The time shows at 10:10 pm. Is this significant? I can’t say for sure, but there is nothing odd about the pocket watch itself. The only thing I noticed is that the hands on the pocket watch aren’t moving.

That doesn't necessarily mean anything, but let’s throw out a random idea I had about the watch actually being broken. It doesn’t work. The time stopped at exactly 10:10 pm, perhaps some incident happened during that time when it stopped, and Jude wears it as a memento. Ultimately, I don’t place too much stock in this because there's really no basis for it, but let's say we've covered our bases with this and move on to the last, but certainly not least...

My Evil (or sin), is an unfulfilled promise: His tag line at the end….I don’t believe this is related to Jude’s fated demise. I have an inkling that Cybird may go the Disney route for his fate, but that can be a discussion for another day….maybe. What I do believe is that this emphasizes Jude’s compellation to pay back an unfulfilled promise (essentially what amounts to a betrayal).

I don’t feel that he MUST pay back betrayals that others experience, but if he is involved in a case in some manner of speaking (like for missions), Jude has been known to carry out revenge, such as he does to Anne’s father in GHR. Also, in the "Evil Behind the Scenes" event, Jude allows the husband of the wife who was unfaithful take care of things behind closed doors (it said it was supposed to be talking, but Ellis was in the room too, and who knows what the husband did). It’s interesting, because Jude mentions that while he has no interest in harming women, betrayal must be repaid, so whatever happened happened.

This would make sense as to why Jude does everything he can to fulfill his own promises. But, what if he fails to keep his own promise……what happens then? Hope to find out soon.

That's all I could dig up. They really gave us nothing, but everything at the same time?

Honorable Mention: No eye Kate...please stop treating my girl this way cybird!

#ikevil jude jazza #ikemen jude #jude jazza #ikemen villains jude #ikevil jude #jude theory

100 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years ago

Note

Omg loved the jealous wife scenario! Could you maybe do a reverse one where the bonten! Husbands are jealous?

BONTEN HUSBANDS GETTING JEALOUS

⊹ mikey, haitani ran, haitani rindou, kakucho hitto, kokonoi hajime, haruchiyo sanzu

⊹ unedited. fem! reader. requested by a lot of anons so i compiled all the ideas into one ask. it starts off romantic, until the gangster personalities begin to show and it gets a little...heated. cursing. implications of murder. warnings that some people really are creepy lmao.

⊹ i love this sm, i’m obsessed with bonten husbands urghh. also HELLO HUSBAND SANZU !!

♡ — MIKEY !

You don’t notice Mikey was feeling jealous to begin with. Having always been silent, choosing to watch with hooded eyes from afar as he stuffs his mouth with the snacks you’ve prepared for him, it doesn’t dawn on you until your husband pulls you into his lap, a blank look on his face. Years of marriage to the rather disinterested man, however, you know the slightest tilt of his lips already says a lot.

“What?” you ask him, fighting back a smile when Mikey frowns at you, as if expecting you could read his mind. All you know is he’s kind of in a bad mood, but not enough that he needs space. In fact, he’s tugging you closer until you’re forced to grip his shoulders, slightly confused by his sudden clinginess. “Mikey, what is it?” you can’t help but laugh.

“Just stay here. ‘Don’t want you talking to the Haitani Brothers.”

“Baby, they were asking about—”

“Don’t care.” Mikey shoves his face into the crook of your neck, warm hands ghosting under your shirt and placing them flat on your back. He knows you’re ticklish there, and your husband smiles against your skin when you squirm on top of him, fighting back a laugh as you did so.

“Mikey...were you jealous?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Hmm,” he kisses your neck, hold growing just a tad bit possessive. And to further prove his point, he glares at the snickering Haitani Brothers outside of his office. “Stay here with me.”

“But people could see, Mikey...”

“Yeah, that was the point. They better take a good fucking look you’re my wife.”

♡ — HAITANI RAN !

When Ran sees you muffling your giggles with your fist as you talk to your bodyguard – the exact person he’s paying to watch over you and not flirt with you of all things – the only thing he can think of is how dare he. Was this employee not aware you’re his wife; Ran Haitani’s beloved, the apple of his eye, the love of his life and his whole world and more?

Ran scoffs as he crosses his arms against his chest.

He’s sure you’re going to hate him for what he’s about to, knowing full well you hate PDA, but he’s a man dead set on accomplishing his mission. Walking your way with an arrogant smile, Ran swoops you until you crash onto his chest, your husband cooing and cupping your cheek while your guard watches awkwardly. “My lovely wife,” he emphasizes, bringing your knuckles to flash your weddings rings before kissing the flesh. “You look rather lovely today. Well, you’re always stunning, wife, but you’re on a different level today. Must be the reason you attract unwanted attention now, hm?”

Your eyes widen in realization, the shock immediately replaced with a warning look. “Ran Haitani.”

Hearing you call him by his full name, along with a frown, was the total package of ‘You and I are going to talk later.’ Usually, Ran dreads when this happens, but he can’t help it. To him, this is the right thing to do, and so he masks his nervousness with an even bigger grin as he leads you away from that pesky bodyguard. He’ll make a mental note to know his name later...perhaps take out his baton and teach the poor man a lesson...

“Ran, you’re being childish.”

“I’m jealous,” he isn’t even the least bit ashamed in his confession, confusing you on whether you want to scold him or kiss him from his antics. Though it seems like he’s already making the decision for you when he puckers his lips, fingers tapping along the flesh. “Kiss. Now.”

You sigh, “Right in front of your team, Ran? Seriously.”

“I’m marking my territory!”

“What’re you, a dog?”

“Yeah, I’m your dog,” he teases, playfully baring his fangs and laughing when you groan in embarrassment. “As your dog, I promise to be loyal to you and follow you around everywhere, my wife. I’ll even take you from behind like a dog does—” skin flushing warm with the sudden explicitness of his words – in public, of all places! – you drag your husband by his collar, effectively shutting him up with a kiss.

As for Ran? The cocky bastard basks both in your taste and the attention.

♡ — HAITANI RINDOU !

Rindou is another man of hiding his feelings. He doesn’t want to show weakness, nor pour out his feelings into the world where it could be possibly used against him. Having grown up as the overlooked and underappreciated younger brother, Rindou’s lived with the mindset that it’s much better to be aloof with everything to assert his dominance, but he’ll be damned if he says he doesn’t want to break that waiter’s limbs right now.

It’s your anniversary date tonight, the two of you spending a romantic weekend getaway where you are now celebrating on a local luxurious restaurant. Of course, you’re dressed to the nines, charming and turning everyone’s heads your way. That much he knows as your husband; the first to see and smell the not-so-innocent thoughts you elicit from people.

In actuality, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t mind. You’re beautiful; it was only natural, but his patience is getting tested with each passing minute the longer the waiter practically stares at you with heart eyes.

Shooting up from his seat, Rindou downs his drink in one go. He’s no longer the Calm Husband as he makes his way towards you, not even the least bit mannered as he flicks the waiter’s hand about to land on your shoulder. As expected, the man takes a step back, scowling at first at his rudeness before he meets Rindou’s dark eyes set ablaze. “Are you done talking to my wife?” he drawls out in a barely calm manner, arms naturally finding its home around your waist. “If you’re done and would still like to keep both your limbs and your job, I suggest you run back to your other customers instead of wasting time. Now scram. Leave while I’m still being nice.”

Pride swells in his chest when the waiter scurries away, his back straightening as you cling onto him with a small smile on your face. Now you manage to calm him down with just one gaze, and soon Rindou is breathing through his nose.

“That was annoying.”

“You’re so hot when you’re jealous,” you giggle, poking your husband’s muscles when his cheeks burn at the compliment. Funny how he’s all macho one moment and melting the next, but it is his duality that drives you crazy even after years of marriage. “I’m surprised you’re not mad I wore this dress when we both know people would give...rather impolite looks.”

“Dress as slutty as you want,” Rindou shrugs confidently, “I can fight.”

♡ — KAKUCHO HITTO !

Best Husband Kakucho would be downplaying his jealousy. He’s a rational man at most times, if not most, so he knows full well there’s no logical reasoning behind the jealousy pooling at his stomach right now. You’re happily married and very much still in the honeymoon phase that he should rest assured you’re not going to look at anyone else but him, but he’s still a human. He’s still a man, and he knows firsthand when someone’s ‘friendly hugs’ are no longer that.

Still, Kakucho respects you. He understands you have your own male friends and he doesn’t want to step in when you’re clearly having a good time with them, so he stuffs his hands in your pockets and turn his head away. An out of sight, out of mind kind of mindset, if you will, but that only lasts long.

For not even five minutes later, Kakucho is stealing a kiss at your cheek, right in the middle of your conversation with a childhood friend.

Yeah, he knows exactly who that childhood friend is. He’s heard enough on how this person has garnered feelings for you, which you’ve tragically (fortunately for Kakucho) rejected, but was this person persistent. The way they look at you makes Kakucho step closer to you until he’s successfully cut off the conversation, replacing the one light atmosphere with a rather awkward one.

“Pardon my intrusion, but I don’t like you ogling at my wife like that,” when they open their mouth to defend themselves, laughing in disbelief with a ridiculed face, Kakucho’s jaw tightens. The veins on his necks protrude as he sheds his coat and wraps it around your shoulder in one fluid motion, his eyes never leaving your friend’s. “Next time you look at her like that, I’m going to make sure you’ll never be able to see anything again.”

Kakucho may be your gentle and caring husband, but he isn’t one of Tenjiku’s former superiors for no reason. He has, and always will have, a strong sense of loyalty to his loved ones that brings out his more feral sides.

♡ — KOKONOI HAJIME !

Kokonoi is not having any of it. Truth be told, he doesn’t really want to go shopping with you, simply because he’s gotten used to just giving you his card while he spends most of his time at work, content with coming home to gifts bought with his money and showered his kisses. He’s happy you insisted he come along today, however, because had he known earlier that the sales men would be running their hands all over you with a pathetic excuse of ‘needing a good feel for the right size’ – as if you don’t already know such information – then he wouldn’t have allowed you to go shopping alone in the first place.

“No,” Kokonoi stands up from the velvet loveseat in the middle of the boutique, catching the attention of both you and the salesman eyeing him up challengingly. He’s not bothered, though. Despite his urge to punch the guy’s cocky smirk into oblivion, he’s not going to stoop down to his level. That’s what being Kakucho’s co-member taught Koko to be; the power of elegance and composure, a composure that’s threading on a thin line.

“Get your hands off her. I’m sure you’re not supposed to be touching your clients like that.”

“But Sir—”

Kokonoi flashes his black card out of nowhere, tapping the card into the guy’s forehead while you watch in amusement. “Listen here, buddy, hands off or I’m buying this whole place and firing you. Now you don’t want me to do that, do you? So hands off my wife. She can shop without your assistance,” pointing to the marble desk, Kokonoi grins. “Be a good boy and stand behind that counter. She’ll come to you once she’s ready to pay. Until then, shut the fuck up and keep your hands to yourself, alright?”

♡ — HARUCHIYO SANZU !

If you think Sanzu is insane before, it’s nothing compared to how he could be when he’s jealous.

You’re on a nightclub with him, the night still much too young that you don’t want to come home. He, too, is feeling too alive that he doesn’t want to retire just yet, so he drives the both of you in one of his favourite clubs to get drunk and just have fun. For some odd reason though, there weren’t any hosts present in his booth, resulting Sanzu in ordering the drinks himself while you stay behind, not wanting to immerse in the dance floor crowded with creeps without Sanzu.

Or so he thought. Because some creep still makes their way to his booth, chatting and touching your bare shoulder as they jut a thumb in the direction of the dance floor.

In the blink of an eye, Sanzu’s forgotten his drinks, his gun whipped out and loaded as he presses them against the stranger’s skull, the action rendering the man frozen and mute. “Baby!” you cheer at the sight of him, all discomfort disappearing on your face now that you’ve gotten your personal space back. “You’re here!”

“Sorry I was gone,” he scoffs at the stranger, but not before sending a wink your way. “You alright now, sweetheart? Want me to dump this guy’s body at the back of the club?”

“No, no, please, I’m begging—”

“We’re not here for that, Sanzu,” you say, using the tip of your finger to tilt the gun away. It’s a dangerous move, especially when Sanzu’s finger is on the trigger, but he is always, always careful with you that it all happens without a problem. A beat later, Sanzu is shoving the guy back into the dance floor with a deadly gaze, which soon softens the moment your hands trail lovingly up his chest. “Now that certain disturbances are gone...shall we dance?”

“Oh, I’m rocking your world tonight,” his touch trails over your hips, gaze now heated with lust instead of anger. “You ready to have some fun, baby?”

7K notes · View notes

lemonadeinaglass · 3 years ago

Text

Night's Wonders

Notes: Hiii it's my first time writing & posting a fanfic so sorry in advance if she's not "in-character" since there's still a lot of unknown info abt her and so this is my interpretation of her and if there's no coherent plot in this bc I wrote this at 3 am while suffering from toothache 😭😭😭 BWAHAHAHAHAHAHSHA anyways, I saw a bunch of Yan!Tsaritsa fanfics here on tumblr and decided to hop on the train ASFGHKGJLUPM there's just something hot about the way genshin writers wrote her like- damn shawty if u ever need a chair I'm right here my queen also I named her Czarina cuz y not :DDD also if you find any mistakes pls feel free to correct me tysm!!!

Night's Wonders (Gender neutral reader x Yandere Tsaritsa)

—In which The Tsaritsa tries to pinpoint the reason and the start of her eternal love, or rather, the everlasting obsession she feels towards you.

Warning; Yandere Tsaritsa, Implications of kidnapping

It didn't matter when or where it started. All the god knew was that she was in love, or if what she feels can still be called love.

"Your eyes are so beautiful…"

Perhaps that's where it all started.

That damned sentence was what made her fall, and fall hard she did.

For despite the fact that her eyes were ones of a cold-blooded murderer, a certain someone still managed to find beauty in its depths colder than the harshest winters this world has ever faced.

"I will always be here if you ever need me, Czarina."

Or maybe this phrase is the one that started it all?

The assurance that she'll always have the warmest of embrace to rely on did wonders to her lonely mind, extensively holding on to the promise of everlasting tranquility and warmth in the hands of the woman's companion.

"I love you, Czarina."

Ah.

But this might be where it all started spiralling downwards?

The day her companion realized the affections they held towards the God of Cryo. Strange, but for some reason, it comforts the god that her beloved fell in love with Czarina herself, and not the mask of the archon she walks around with.

It brings her joy and warmth knowing she can be relaxed and tranquil without any worries beside the one she holds dear the most.

"I'm sorry Czarina, but I have to go…"

What?

She was leaving her.

She was leaving her behind, after promising to always be there for the god. Had they been a liar? Did the woman do something wrong to deserve such a harsh punishment?! Tell her! Tell her what it is that made you so upset to warrant a farewell?!

No. She can't— she won't let this happen!

"You belong here in Snezhnaya with me, my love. There is no changing that fact."

That's what she said to you the day of your supposed departure.

Because that's the truth. Your only rightful place is by her side, ruling all over Snezhnaya, and soon, all over Celestia.

She can't help it if your voice, more enchanting than that of a songstress, is the one that silenced the embroiled turbulence in her mind,

How your eyes, brighter than the stars glimmering above, look at her in nothing but pure kindness and adoration,

Or how your touch, warmer than the spring sun, soothes the turmoils and battles of her frosted heart.

And now, as she looks at your peaceful visage in slumber, she mused…

"When did it all start?"

But that is a query to ponder for another day. For now, the Tsaritsa will enjoy the quiet respite offered by the blanket of the night…

Before she inevitably goes back to facing the harsh and complicated reality of what she took away from her darling lover.

"Czarina?"

"Shhh… Go back to sleep, my dear…"

"O-Okay… Good night Czarina."

"I love you, (Y/N)."

However, at the end of the day, The Tsaritsa believes that everything's worth it and fair when it comes to them, her love, her warmth, and her sunlight.

fin.

#genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin au #yandere genshin x reader #yandere Tsaritsa #yandere Tsaritsa x reader #yandere archon #yandere cryo archon #yandere archon x reader #yandere cryo archon x reader #the tsaritsa #tsaritsa x reader #archon #archon x reader

238 notes · View notes

hypmicdaydreams · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I hope you’re having a nice day💕 Can I please request headcanons on Gentaro, Ramuda and Doppo with soulmate au? Like in what type of soulmate au would they be, how would they meet the reader, etc. I hope this isn’t too difficult- Have a wonderful day!🥰

Oh man, I had a field day with this request. Soulmate aus, my beloved <3 These did end up longer than usual, so apologies for that, but anon, I'm so obsessed with this idea genuinely thank you so much for this absolutely adorable request! I hope I did it justice. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it just as much as I did writing it 💕

𝗥𝗮𝗺𝘂𝗱𝗮, 𝗚𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗼, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗗𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘀

-pairings: ramuda amemura x gn!reader, gentaro yumeno x gn!reader, doppo kannonzaka x gn!reader

-genre: fluff

Ramuda

you can see every color in the world except for the color that’s your soulmate’s eyes until you meet them

do artificial beings even have soulmates?

ramuda couldn’t help but ruminate on that. i mean, he didn’t really have a childhood or could even experience the phenomenon of growing up. he merely was brought into this world one day by chuohku

but well, they must’ve programmed it into him, or perhaps that was just how the world worked: every living being was entitled to a soulmate

given that he was a fashion designer, ramuda loved color. his designs were full of it (look to his wardrobe outfits for instance lol), but there was one color that he just couldn’t see

he’s always heard of the soulmate thing, but ramuda always did brush it off as nothing more than a folktale. it didn’t exactly seem entirely plausible to him

ramuda was a bit cynical, so he couldn’t bring himself to believe the idea of soulmates. there was simply no way that there was someone designated for you specifically, someone that was a perfect match, someone that was certain to love you

but one day, when he was designing some clothes for his fashion line, ramuda felt as if it was missing something. the colors he had chosen were good, but the outfit overall seemed just a tad bit bland. it needed something else

so he asked someone who was currently modeling for him for some advice, but when they pointed to a certain color

“ehh? but that’s black,” he pouted, “it’ll just make this piece look so so so depressing”

and that’s when he learned that the soulmate thing wasn’t fiction but in fact reality. he was unable to see that specific color his model saw. no matter how much ramuda researched and read about that color, he simply could never know of its beauty unless he met his soulmate

in a way, he certainly was grateful for it

being the experiment of some government, ramuda often wondered what even was the purpose of his life. he felt as if he could never get close to anyone, that he’d always be alone on this path that was carved for him; but hearing that there was someone that was a match for him did make him the tiniest bit of hope that maybe he too deserved love

and just like that, the thought of meeting his soulmate and falling in love with them made him excited, which was strange for someone so cynical

you guys bumped into each other one day as ramuda was on his way back to his studio. he had been deep in his thoughts and didn’t realize when he bumped into you, causing you to drop whatever you were holding

and as he was helping you pick it up, ramuda looked into your eyes for a moment, but in that moment, he saw the color that he had only read about, and oh how all those articles and papers he read undermine its true beauty

he stopped and stared into your eyes. ramuda couldn’t believe that he had finally found his soulmate right here in the very heart of shibuya

“your eyes,” he mumbled

“they’re so pretty,” you finished, staring right into his eyes as well. blue was such a beautiful color, you couldn’t help but think. how did you go so long without seeing it? ramuda pretty much had the same thought as you for your eye color

you guys pretty much connected instantly, spending the rest of the night telling each other about your lives and everything about you. despite never meeting beforehand, it was like you guys already had such a deep bond with one another. it was infatuation, sure, but well, it was also fate

at long last, ramuda had found you, his one and only soulmate. he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his time with you

Gentaro

the red string tied to your pinky will lead to your soulmate

gentaro always had quite the fascination with the string that was wrapped around his pinky

no matter what he did to get rid of it - cut it, burn it, etc. - it remained there, looking as untouched as ever

when he was young, gentaro always wondered where his string would lead; and although he grew out of that mindset and started to accept it as part of his daily life, he still found himself gazing at it at times

was his soulmate just like him? did they also love reading and writing stories? perhaps they looked just like him? or maybe even shared the same fashion?

the fact that there was a soulmate already destined for him in particular was quite the idea, and i can see gentaro starting to get invested in it, reading various other stories and folktales about this very thing

gentaro often daydreamed about who exactly was on the other side of the string, even as he grew older, and it certainly became the subject of many of his stories

it was a topic he had a clear interest in, and even when he was writing it, there was certainly a bit of self indulgence in each and every one of his red string of fate stories

he liked to daydream about all the possibilities of who could possibly be his soulmate: an astronaut, a baker, a runaway royal heir from some faraway land, your average run-of-the-mill office worker

he couldn’t wait to meet his very own soulmate and learn their story

gentaro did love the fact that he already had someone that was just right for him. it was pretty much assured that he’d find someone who’d accept him for who he was, that’d unconditionally love and support him

he most likely did try to follow it one time given his curiosity, but it kept going on forever and simply wouldn’t end. gentaro eventually gave up on following the end of the string that day

as much as he loved the idea of his soulmate being on the other end of the string and how mystical it all seemed, at times, he couldn’t help but grow frustrated with it

it seemed like it was never ending, that he’d never find his soulmate, and he’d die just as he was born: the red string still tightly wrapped around his pinky. perhaps he never did have a soulmate in the first place; that made for an interesting short story

but one day, while he sat by a window seat in his favorite café, sipping on coffee and watching as others passed by, gentaro felt a small tug on his pinky

it certainly was alarming when he looked down and saw how taunt his red string was, something that never once occurred to him before. it was usually loose and fell by his side, but this time, it was finally leading him somewhere

and when you finally crossed the window he was seated at, gentaro quickly caught a glance of your finger as well, and lo and behold it was connected to his

just as luck would have it, you entered that very same café he was seated at, seemingly realizing how tight the string wrapped around your pinky now felt. and as you guys finally locked eyes, it was pretty much confirmed. your guys’ strings led to one another

you pretty much rushed to meet gentaro, and even if he didn’t show it, he was just as excited to have finally met you

“so i take it you’re my destined soulmate?” he asked, smiling as he finally had an image of what you looked like after having imagined you for so long

what a strange man, you thought, but even then, you both were far too into your adrenaline to really take note. you guys had finally met each other after many years of searching, and that was all that mattered

although it may have seemed like gentaro’s red string of fate story had ended now, a new one was just beginning

Doppo

anything you write on your skin will appear on your soulmate’s

although it was pretty much the norm to be seen with writing on your arm, doppo couldn’t help but be embarrassed at his own and thus hide it with his sleeves

don’t get me wrong, doppo absolutely lived for each time you wrote him a little message on your arm. he loved gazing at them and reading each and every single one over and over again, tracing over your handwriting. even if it was just ink, it felt so electrical each time he felt it

but considering his work environment and how he somehow managed to keep up a professional image, doppo felt like he had to hide the markings all over his arm

besides, it did feel a bit personal, ya know? like those were the words that he shared with only his soulmate. he didn’t quite like the thought of everyone around him knowing his business

the entire concept of soulmates was always a bit odd to him, but it was also strangely comforting. the fact that there was already someone out there for him, someone that was a perfect match certainly made him feel a lot less lonely

as someone who was always prone to apologizing and often felt that he was simply a burden, doppo quite liked the idea of soulmates. there was someone out there that’d love him unconditionally no matter what. that sounded nice

funny story, but i can see hifumi being the one to push doppo to write to you first, though it’d be more accurate to say that he grabbed a marker and wrote a greeting on his friend’s arm

he certainly did freak out. i mean, the fact that he wasn’t even the first one to talk to his very own soulmate was embarrassing, but when you responded back and asked him how he was, doppo did feel a bit grateful for that push

admittedly, doppo did get a bit shy each time he wrote to you. what if you thought that he was some sort of weirdo? he didn’t want that

but that didn’t stop him from feeling all warm on the inside and smiling each time you wrote back to him. he developed feelings without even having seen you personally, though the thought of you being his soulmate may have helped with that as well

as he grew older and left school, however, doppo started to contact you less and less given how busy he was with lifework was taking up much of his time

however, he did miss you very much, and at times, doppo would certainly sneak into the office bathroom and gaze at the messages you left. your words of encouragement never failed to get his heart racing and a smile on his face

doppo always did have a desire to meet you, but given his schedule and how demanding his work was, he really didn’t have time to do so. it was nothing but a far off dream for him

but then one day, while he was on the train to work, he raised his sleeve a bit and started to read your messages, something he often did when he had a bit of free time

and from the corner of his eye, he spotted someone near that had the same handwriting on his written on their arms

doppo really wasn’t one to confront strangers, especially not on the morning train of all places, but he simply couldn’t help his curiosity right now. he just had to know if that was who he thought it was

he approached you a bit too excitedly, unable to calm down his racing heart as the thought of meeting his soulmate crossed his mind. doppo couldn’t even think of the right words to say, merely raising his sleeve up and showing it to you

“um, s-sorry to bother you, but i couldn’t help but notice your arm and uh...are you my soulmate?”

your eyes widened and you brought your arm to his, comparing the writing on both, and sure enough, it was the exact same

doppo didn’t know how he to describe how he felt at that moment, but in a word: euphoric

he had been wanting to meet you for so long, and here you were, right in front of him. he couldn’t believe it really. something was actually going his way this morning

doppo really did want to stay and chat with you, but his stop was right here, and he scrambled to write down his number on his arm so that you’d call him later that day (why didn’t he think of that before?), muttering the words before rushing out of the train

that night, the two of you talked for hours on end, excited to finally have a face to the handwriting. you guys chatted about everything, all your interests, work, life, there was nothing you guys didn’t touch

you even set up a day and time to meet up with doppo, something that he was very much looking forward. this would be his first ever date with his soulmate, and while he was very much nervous, doppo was also ecstatic

for once in his life, something was finally looking up

#asks #requests #hypmic #hypnosis mic #ramuda amemura #ramuda x reader #gentaro yumeno #gentaro x reader #doppo kannonzaka #doppo x reader #fluff #headcanons #gender neutral reader

150 notes · View notes

persephoneyss · 4 years ago

Text

Fool.

Pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, heartbreak, office au.

Summary: ❝The fool is one who rests dreaming of doing things beyond his reach, instead of making it come true, pathetic.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, stalking / harassment, quite a bit of voyeurism, implicit murder, naming of non-consensual sex, forced pregnancy, somnophilia, jk drug a reader, extremely complicated relationships, sexual tension between mxm characters, naming of homosexual relations mxm.

Number of words: 5000+

︙ Author's note: My second fic here, thank you very much for all the support you gave to the first one. Enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

They say, out there, that monotony is boring.

What everyone vaguely forgot, is that we live in it. It is an endless loop between what we do, and what we want.

So, nobody wanted to change it.

Jungkook lived in a routine. He liked his personal independence and, likewise, he never changed anything in his life. He was a man of habit, worthy of admiration and imitation. But he never considered himself capable of guiding someone as his own person, he just seemed boring to him.

Perhaps his complexity of seeing things in different ways was what made him such a genius.

People who break with the custom or the conventional can be called differently in the eyes of everyone, crazy or genius. Jungkook considered himself to be in the middle of both terms. He was madly in love with his genius.

But nobody said that love was for everyone, Jungkook was also in love with another person that he considered that he was worthy of his love, the obsessive and sick, misunderstood love of him.

Jungkook was a genius, but he never wanted money wasting his time on useless things like building an empire and being a millionaire. He looked at other directions in life. His salary was minimal, he worked hard under Kim Taehyung's whip. His boss was successful, just as he has imagined since he saw him go by one fall day.

He couldn't remember the date, but he knew it was fall. The cool breeze was a seal of love.

The clumsy little Jungkook, always with his head down looking for a chance at life. When he could have anything he wanted with his inner genius. The porcelain cup swayed in his hand, watching people rush past, just as he thought it would, everyone had their own business in this time of change. Taehyung really fell from the sky like an angel, or that's what he wanted to remember the day he watched him pass a coffee shop with his phone in hand ordering a cold American coffee even though the wind was blowing strongly in the streets. Jungkook watched him fervently, he was enigmatic and undoubtedly managed to get his attention almost immediately. His tall, firm figure made her want to clench her thighs.

His father always told her that pleasure was fun on unfortunate occasions.

Perhaps because of that, he took enormous pleasure in seeing Taehyung walking close to him.

He felt, in a disgusting way, good about himself. It was as if just by looking at his face and his dark eyes, he would manage to make her cum on his pants. Jungkook searched for him for days, until in an insignificant magazine, which he found by chance, he read about one of the most sought-after businessmen in the nation. Much money, and above all an elegant demeanor. They were the perfect combination to create someone like Kim Taehyung, however, Jungkook missed everything when he saw a photo of his beloved unknown to him.

It was a matter of time. He now named himself to be an excellent worker, always by Taehyung's side wherever he went, he felt euphoric just hearing him say his name with his voice so silent. His personal secretary was jealous of him, she even insulted him for a simple smile that young Jeon showed her. She obviously was fired from her, she being replaced by Mrs. Jang who was an older woman, married with two children.

However, no one ever noticed or simply turned a deaf ear to Jungkook's constant provocations towards the former secretary, just as her mocking smiles seemed to be ignored by conveniently blind eyes.

Jungkook was a man who knew how to play. He loved being the mouse for Taehyung, getting caught up in his whims. But he loved even more being the cat marrying the prey.

And just when he could already feel himself on top of the iceberg, almost close to touching his beloved boss. You arrived. You were an intern, nothing special considering that thousands came every year and you didn't have a permanent position unless you did your job well. Jungkook didn't even notice your presence, not for a year. Mrs. Jang sick from one day to the next, Taehyung had a considerable appreciation for her so she did not take away his job. Only covered it with a temporary vacation.

Jungkook was used to walking into his boss's office being greeted by the harsh but sweet voice of the older woman. But his steps seemed to stop in automatic mode when he heard your voice, it was sweet after sweet. His gaze fell quickly on your figure, you were ethereal, with a hint of mischief that he noticed, questioning if your perfect form was normal to see in a person.

And ironically, he proclaimed you a beautiful and heavenly Angel.

His heart pounded when you seemed to notice his presence, your eyes fell on his face in confusion. Jungkook bit his lip, his breath caught and unconsciously, he clenched his thighs to cover his growing erection. He thought he looked ridiculous standing in front of you without saying anything.

He felt strangely pathetic next to you.

"Who are you? Where is Mrs. Jang?" He asked defensively, surprising your innocent figure. But you never let your guard down.

"I'm sorry, but I'm only a substitute until Mrs. Jang manages to recover. Can I help you with something?"

Jungkook frowned, but only managed to nod with no idea what to do. He took a few steps back, realizing that he had invaded your personal space and cornered you between him and your desk. Anyone who saw them would think that they were close and even that they were having a lovers' quarrel.

I didn't want that. Taehyung was close to being his.

Jungkook looked at you with disdain, you were like a viper trying to tempt his masculine weakness.

But I am not unaware of the fact that I could smell your perfume of roses and vanilla. He was offended that Taehyung will not tell him that he is against someone young again. For a moment he feared that you would steal his position as his boss's right hand man, but that would be ridiculous. Thought. Taehyung was happy by his side, he appreciates him like a ... Little brother. He was trusted.

Nobody said Lucifer couldn't be a woman ...

The next few days weren't any better. Jungkook had his eyes glued to you at all times, counting the minutes when Taehyung called you at his office. How long will it take to leave from your entrance. And when it seemed like too long, he knocked on the door pretending to bring some important documents to sign. I could see you, when you were near your boss you had your head lowered. You were a submissive to him.

Jungkook felt envious, and far beyond, in a reprehensible jealousy of Taehyung. You never lowered your head when he came to greet you every day, nor when he ordered you to bring him a coffee and even less when he tried to embarrass you in front of the other people in the office.

But without a doubt, Jungkook came to hate you more than anyone in his monotonous life. You were a thief to him, you did your job so flawlessly that Taehyung had no choice but to give you the job of secretary. Your secretary. A smile was what adorned your lips every day, Jungkook cursed you a million different times.

You were a competition on their way to the heart of your beloved and perfect boss.

Nothing really changed after your acceptance as a secretary. Jungkook was cruelly trying to ignore you, but you never said anything to him or gave him a sign that he will affect you. Maybe deep down, I expected to see you destroyed by her rejection. Possibly, he thought ironically that he would seek him out asking forgiveness for any mistake you have made for such contempt, seeking to be to his liking again. However, nothing changed for you, you greet him politely, always with that charming look and smile of yours. Just like every day.

Then Jungkook did what seemed the least complicated to him.

He slowly gave up, walking straight to your table to start a conversation every morning, this time, ignoring calls from his boss needing him.

Taehyung was perfect. He put it on a pedestal, admiring its beauty every day as if it were a God.

But with you it was different. You weren't a Goddess to him, that would be stupid. For Jungkook to have you by his side, it was like giving him the privilege of being born again. You were more than his love, you were his life.

Jungkook lived for you. I existed to watch you, love you, make you happy. In its twisted and sick reality, everything you did revolved around his discretion. For he should always have been like that. Taehyung was nothing more than a cruel and beautiful distraction that fate put on him, proving his loyalty to you. Unfortunately he fell into it. His heart felt heavy in his chest, thinking of how long you must have been waiting for him. You must have been alone all that time.

Jungkook cried for you.

"Good morning, Jungkook-ah" Your voice, again.

His gaze was lost on your face. You were the most beautiful thing he had seen in his miserable years of life. He wondered if you, too, could feel his appreciation for you, or could you hear his rampant heartbeat.

Almost unconsciously, like the first time he clenched his thighs biting his lips to avoid being tempted to look past your fragile face. He had never been able to look at your body in a dirty way, but he did not deny wanting to do so. So he did it. His eyes inspected all of you, drinking in your sensuality as if you were a glass of water in front of him. Under your neck that was proud, you had a small necklace with your name written on it hanging and shining beautifully. Your collarbones rose beautifully, Jungkook felt an unreadable desire to want to bite the soft flesh of your neck leaving its marks on it as a sign that you were his. Only from him. Your white shirt was buttoned making a pout to form on her face, I wanted to see what color bra you were wearing that day. Maybe you were wearing something sexier under that stupid uniform, I guess you were ready for him, with some hidden lingerie, tempting him to take you to a bathroom in the building and fuck you foolishly while saying you were his over and over again.

"Are you feeling okay Jungkook-ah?" His gaze followed your body, which rose from your seat to approach him. For a moment he thought he could see your thighs protrude from the black fabric of your skirt that clung exquisitely to your body. His mind created thousands of scenarios where he would remove that garment to make you feel good, hitting you with his cock mercilessly.

Maybe I would let you touch it under the table at employee meetings that were held every week, if you let it mark your entire body with bites and bruises.

"You seem distressed, let me see if you have a fever." You say, without even realizing how his eyes are resting solely on your lips that he was dying to kiss and bite at will.

Jungkook knew that if he touched it, it would be the end. His cock stood up proudly creating a tent in his pants, he was grateful that you were so clueless that you never noticed that small but big problem. His eyes squeezed shut and his hand squeezed his crotch, he hunched over so you wouldn't notice he was coming into his pants with your gentle, harmless touch.

"I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?" You asked again, even more concerned than before.

Jungkook smiled, trying to breathe normally again. Really naive.

He made fun of you, he liked to play pretend to be the mouse just like with Taehyung. In front of you, he was a sweet and gentle man.

It was fun trying to keep his intentions true, but clearly this was starting to get tedious.

A week had passed since the incident, that day he had to ask permission pretending to be sick in order to go home.

You had been worried about his condition, thinking that you could have helped him. That same night, you called his phone wishing him well soon and apologizing once again.

You were never smart enough to notice that Jungkook had his hand inside his pants touching hard just hearing your soft voice saying how sorry you were, you sounded so weak and vulnerable to him. He dreamed of hearing you again, this time begging for him to make you cum on him a thousand times, he knew you would be perfect for his big cock. Taking him like a big girl, like her perfect little one.

Jungkook was a greedy person. Below being a caring and kind man, he was selfish with his desires. He got bored seeing you for so little time during the day, it seemed as if you ran away from him when you left the large company building. Perhaps it was his greed that led him and condemned you to follow you every day, treading closely in your footsteps.

You lived in a small apartment complex, your house had one bedroom and one bathroom. Jungkook thought it was essential for you, you earned almost the same as him and you were certainly a practical person. Making him fall in love with you even more, he felt identified in a funny way. Ironic. When your figure was lost inside your apartment he felt furious, he could not help feeling angry for not being able to see more of you.

But his eyes noticed almost immediately that your apartment had a window, one that just faced another in front of the neighboring building. An enormous satisfaction invaded him. He collected as much money as he could, managing to raise two months of rent for the apartment in front of yours. That would be enough until he would bring you to his feet, and then he would move in with you living together as a normal couple. The man who owns the building was surprised by the persistent attitude of the young man in renting a specific apartment. But he quickly forgot about it when he saw the money in his hand.

"I hope you are not bothered by the noises, the walls are thin and there could be problems with that." The owner babbled, explaining and talking about things that honestly didn't matter to him as long as he could be around you.

Jungkook watched your apartment from the window, the window looked directly into your room. He felt a smile grow on his face, he could see your perfectly arranged bed and the products on your dressing table. Mentally he wrote down all the marks, he had become obsessed with your smell. Wanting to imitate everything about you as much as possible, he even followed you to the mall to see where you always bought your clothes. He began to wear the same brand of clothing, the same style and in the same way, your personal things. Like your skincare products, even your lipstick.

Their love had now turned into a sinister game of catching the helpless mouse. He followed you day and night, it was only a matter of time before you were at his feet begging not to be eaten by the evil cat.

You never liked the night blanket, you felt that the worst things could happen in the dark of one night. Your steps were hurried, you constantly felt a presence following your weak form knowing that you would do nothing to stop it. You were not capable. You only got to feel calm and let out a sigh when you got to your little house, it was cozy for just one person. You liked it, it had a unique charm. Your shoes fell to the ground, as did your coat and bag. You were exhausted, Taehyung was not the best boss. He seemed to have an obsession with making you run around for coffee or a simple napkin.

Secretly, it was obnoxious.

"You're here, little one ..." a voice whispered, watching you from a camera lens.

I had bought a whole spy gear, between cameras, lenses and more just to see you, possibly to take some photos as a souvenir as well. Jungkook smiled, biting his lip impatiently. He had arrived at his department at the same time as you, but his work was not finished yet, not until you lay on your bed turning off the light and preventing him from seeing you any longer. "Good girl." His eyes never left your figure, the first garment fell to the ground.

You had a habit of going straight to the bathroom to relax for a few minutes after a tiring day. You were not yet aware that dark brown eyes were watching you from afar. Jungkook had adorable eyes according to many, they were like those of a defenseless and tender deer, but they would surely change their opinion if they knew what he does and sees with them.

"_____..." Your name left his lips in a moan, his face heated feeling his cock grow slowly at the sight of your naked body so exciting, you walked to the bathroom, losing his sight. But his imagination did the rest.

He sat in front of his camera, pulling down his pants along with his boxer shorts releasing his cock that rose proudly, crashing against his stomach. The presemen came out of his reddened tip, he moved his hand using it as a lubricant to be able to touch himself, imagining that you were looking at him too, calling him and begging him to come to your house to be able to fuck you in your bed. Your neighbors probably wouldn't like the noise. But I would still screw you so they can hear who made you feel good. Who you belonged to.

Just those thoughts was enough for him to come all over his hand, staining his stomach and part of the ground. His chest rose and fell with a laugh. It sure was pathetic.

But now I felt like I had some kind of power over you. Maybe it was always like that, you were his from the day you greeted him for the first time. He refused to think that you could see him cheated on with his boss. It was ridiculous, you clearly loved him.

So, for Jungkook you were his lovers in body and soul.

He could and had the power to do whatever he wanted with you. Taehyung walked in front of him, but for the first time in two years he didn't feel happy or euphoric to see him, and less excited.

He also didn't feel different when he called him into his office.

"Sit down Mr. Jeon, I have some business to attend to with you."

He obeyed immediately, realizing that even he had a power over his weak form. No one was superior to the great Taehyung.

Ironically. He likes irony.

"Lately I was going through the files of my employees and noticed something very unique." He spoke fully focused on his speech, Jungkook felt uncomfortable under his dark and empty gaze. "You have been working here for more than two years without taking a vacation or leaving your position something very exceptional and admirable. Thank you very much for your commitment to us, Mr. Jeon."

A sigh left his lips, he wondered vaguely why his breathing seemed to fail thinking that they could fire him. That would be terribly chaotic, it could not be close to you if it were to be roofed by the company.

It was a relief for him and a condemnation for you.

"It really isn't important, Chief Kim. I will continue to do my job fervently and do my best." He responded with a smile and a bow, trying to get out as soon as possible. He wanted to see you and Taehyung was starting to make him more nervous than usual, he felt that characteristic feeling of having damn butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

He felt like vomiting.

"That seems incredible to me, I would like to celebrate your great achievements. You think if after work, I can buy you a... a drink." He offered remarkably animated.

Funny, he had never been interested in doing that even when Jungkook followed him around like a puppy seeking approval. Did change something now? "I think it would be fair."

Everyone fully says that Lucifer is a man, Eve was very tempted by the apple of sin ...

"I would be delighted, only if I can bring one more person. He is someone important to me, and I would like him to celebrate in the same way." Jungkook smiled, he was delighted.

Taehyung looked surprised, genuinely surprised. But still, he managed to maintain his composure. "Of course, it would be a pleasure to meet that special person to you. You can go now."

Jungkook nodded, giving another bow and walking patiently to the door.

Taehyung watched his figure get lost, he felt strangely curious. He had never seen Jungkook interested in anything other than his job. However, now he spoke of someone special in his life. He frowned, searching his desk for the keys to his drawer hidden from anyone.

It was a bit personal.

He opened it, taking out the only thing inside. A red letter, the envelope was charming and eye-catching. He remembered it just like that day, Jungkook kneeling on the floor of his office where silence reigned. I knew that little Jeon waited for everyone to leave so he could confess, he said nothing at all, his gaze on the ground and his hands held the letter in the air hoping that he would take it.

He never read it.

But he knew it was a confession of his unforgivable love, that Jungkook would think he could fire him for something so heinous. But it was never necessary, he never read the letter so there was never a mistake on anyone's part. But now he was curious.

Maybe jealousy, he wanted to have power over everyone within his company and if a puppet left his strings, it would be like losing power over everyone.

He was lost so much in his misery that he did not notice that you had entered without permission, you were in a hurry because he answered a call from an investor from China that you could not wait for him to answer.

"Mr. Kim, you have a call ..."

Business dinners were boring for you, you knew it was just a stupid look covering up a night in a restaurant where they met to drink as much alcohol as they could. Especially men, according to your criteria. You didn't feel comfortable being the third person on a date between a boss and an important employee. However, I politely accept Mr. Jeon's invitation.

You looked for the table, where dinner and a toast to all the achievements of the aforementioned was supposed to take place. It was one number in particular, table 69.

"Miss _____..." Jungkook was the first to get up from his place to say hello. Taehyung stayed still in his seat, not even looking up from his wine glass. "Have a seat please welcome."

You felt uncomfortable, again. You were the third wheel on a date of two, to say you were a hindrance was to be a joker. Your chair was closer to Jungkook, as if your boss wanted not to be near you by mistake.

"Do you want to order something? Some wine?" Jungkook seemed strangely nervous, as well as attentive to any of your movements.

As if he were afraid of something certainly improbable.

"A-water is fine, thanks." You whisper overwhelmed by so much attention from one person. His hands seemed to shake as he got up from his seat running to bring your precious order.

Taehyung looked at everything with skeptical eyes. He was an observer. His gaze fell on your clothes, you weren't necessarily wearing something revealing or provocative to have so much attention from his former platonic lovers. You were dressed in a black skirt, a honey colored blouse and a white scarf along with some black shoes. You looked comfortable with your clothes, but quite the opposite with the situation and the environment.

Jungkook was dumb. Very silly, he thought, reading your thoughts. You clearly weren't interested in him and still, he was struggling to get your approval as if you were better than Taehyung.

Did you even think about what you were so valuable?

Your name left his lips, drawing your attention right away. "Bored?" His question surprised you, perhaps he was more than observant.

"No, no ..." You reply nervously, waving your hands in the air to give yourself more credibility. "I just think I'm not the most appropriate person to take this place at this dinner. It's weird."

"I get it. You are nobody, just an employee trying to do your job ... not impressive, by the way." Your face was distorted, you were not the most correct person in a matter of manners but you were sure that that was completely offensive and rude. Your inner voice whispered for you to leave, it wasn't worth it. "You are free to go, I will tell Mr. Jeon that you felt bad and had an emergency."

Doubt grew within you. Right now you felt that everything that came out of his mouth was trying to attack you and hurt you in some way. You frowned, refusing to indulge in his game. To say that Taehyung was surprised was an understatement.

"I'm fine, but thank you Mr. Kim."

"Listen damned-..."

Jungkook returned to his place sitting next to you, Taehyung closed his mouth automatically fearing the worst of him. The glass of crystal clear water sat in front of you, it seemed as if it had searched for simple water for days when only a few minutes passed. He looked eager for you to bring him to your lips and drink from something brought by him.

It was terrifying.

Your hand refused to take the glass, your conscience screamed uncontrollably for you to drop it on the floor pretending to have an accident. It was a horribly euphoric feeling. When the water wet your tongue you felt dizzy, your nerves calmed down noticeably.

It was just water.

Jungkook kept smiling the entire dinner, talking about things you honestly didn't understand. It was as if he and Taehyung had a special language to speak to each other, one in which you weren't welcome.

"It feels good?" Your vision became blurry, you had drunk half a glass of wine but your head felt like a whirlpool. Strangely familiar. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, your breath failed and your eyes surrendered.

Jungkook screamed in horror when your body fell to the ground, Taehyung smugly watched as the people around you tried to get up scared by your state. He did not care much about me, nor did it affect him that Jungkook went with you to a hospital. He just sat there, finishing his glass of wine and his special dish. Curious eyes watched them intrigued.

A truly unique man.

Your head rested calmly on his shoulder, he finally smiled away from the pressure of the people in the restaurant. You seemed so peaceful with your steady breathing and calm rhythm, you were so close to him that he was afraid he couldn't wait until he got to his new home. The man who was driving observed in the rear-view mirror, they seemed like a very calm couple and it certainly created a chilling sensation as the young man sitting in his car touched your face as if he feared breaking you by accident. On cold nights like these, he preferred not to ask any questions of his clandestine and unknown clients, but he would always take that doubt about who he helped to escape his own problems.

The room specially chosen by him was decorated, every detail seemed to reflect your darkest tastes and those that everyone knew. It was beautifully scary like the books and pillow was a replica of what you always wanted. Jungkook was proud to have been able to get everything, his bank account was now just zeroes. He learned how useful money was if you saved enough, he hated people who used it without knowing or measuring what it might be worth later.

Your body fell on the giant bed, the sheets were soft and honey color like your blouse. Jungkook knew that you liked colors that will make you relax but you had no preference for one in particular. His curious eyes glowed in the dark, his hands daringly touched your body without fear of being rejected because you simply couldn't do it.

"You are mine, now." He whispered, his voice mingling with the silent screams of the night. The moon was shining hungrily illuminating the room, but not enough to impede what was impossible to stop. "Sleep, sleep a lot. I could wait for you forever."

His promises remained in the air and on deaf ears. With selfishness in his heart, he rose above you positioning himself above you allowing his face to fall on your neck where he sipped from your charming scent that tempted him to follow. Your legs were side by side on his hips, he brought his body closer to yours. He couldn't bear to go on pretending to be the good guy, he was the only one.

"Please do not leave me..."

His sobs were trapped between the four walls, he was sick. He begged for forgiveness. Mercy he did not deserve. I was hoping that you could see him again directly as always, with a smile and your soft voice wishing him a good morning.

His calm, gentle kisses turned desperate, angry, and somewhat cruel. Leaving exaggerated marks all over your body, I wish it long ago. However, he was never heard.

Now he had what he wanted.

He felt complete by your side. His parents loved him as if they depended on their love, but they were certainly false in his head. Jungkook happily recalled how they prevented him from using his own money, how they seemed to put walls in front of him to prevent him from going to live alone, and how they rejected that he was in love with someone of the same gender.

His father called it disgusting and a shame, his mother was silent crying in his hands covering her grief.

Their bodies were never discovered. The police felt useless in front of their eyes, they apologized for their incompetence. They had fallen off a bridge where they always went to pray, where Jungkook knew they were asking for forgiveness and then committing the same sins again.

He planned his move cunningly, moving his pieces one by one.

He amused himself like a child killing a pawn of his competition.

He made an account of his crimes, his parents, Taehyung's best friend who was the harmless Park Jimin, his boss's former secretary who after being fired was strangely run over by a car that was never discovered, also remembers your insolent neighbor who seemed to enjoy stalking you, Jungkook remembers how I completely hate him. His hands on her neck made it clear when she hated him, he was disgusting.

He applauded happily, he felt very good about himself seeing that he made up his mind about so many people who for him were a plague in this world. It was like a child receiving a gift, his hands took the pen on his desk writing the last name on his list for now. Red ink stained the paper, a smile invaded his face.

𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓣𝓪𝓮𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓰.

A gasp left his lips watching your figure move on the bed, he got up from his seat to watch you wake up. You looked so innocent, but now you were stained.

You carried her future child within you, he tried very hard to get you pregnant. You never noticed how he always managed to put powdered sleeping pills in your food every night since he got tired of just looking at you. Then he only had to enter your house like a ghost, his moans of pleasure were silent as he collided with you, fucking you hard with the thought and idea that you would carry his son in your womb.

So, you would never want to leave.

You will learn to love the monotony of being the wife and mother of Jeon Jungkook's son.

After all, he was never a fool.

#bts #bts yandere #yandere bts #bts smut #jungkook yandere #yandere kpop #yandere bts au #yandere!bts #yandere #jungkook #jungkook smut #kpop #jungkook bts

383 notes · View notes

cotccotc · 4 years ago

Text

♡ 1:26 am ; lonely

set in the domus amoris universe !

genre/s: comfort/angst to fluff, established relationship/domestic au, hyunjin x gn reader

wc: ~1.1k

warnings: reader is shorter than hyunjin but that’s all !!

a/n: omg d.a. is back 🤭 jsd i haven’t been able to write for hyunjin for while because of ,,,reasons...... so i’m a little rusty. it’s a wee bit messy and poorly/sleepily edited BUT i hope y’all like it :)

“what do you do when you feel lonely?” you ask. there’d been a brief moment of silence leading up to your question, during which hyunjin put his arm around you, pulling you closer as the two of you stand beside the bedroom window. neither of you could sleep. the sweeping sound of the nightly breeze is tranquil. but it’s not enough.

despite the chill of night, his presence is warm. he’d pressed a kiss against the top of your head, bringing you in to rest it against his chest before you spoke. when you did, his brow furrowed. concern. “lonely?”

“lonely,” you repeat. “like when i’m not around. when it feels like nobody’s around.”

he pauses. he didn’t expect such musings from you. perhaps, he thinks, this is why you were having trouble sleeping. with you under his arm, he begins to sway, gently shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. you wrap your arm around his middle, leaning against him as he guides you from side to side. “well… i’m not sure.” he’s telling the truth. he understands the feeling more than you might expect. “i usually come and find you.” after a beat, he continues. “but sometimes, if i don’t know how to get to you, i’ll try to concentrate on something else. listening to music, drawing, making something...” he trails off, looking at you. your gaze is pointed straight ahead. “lovey, what’s wrong?” he asks.

you blink a few times. you didn’t realize how serious you might have looked. you quickly flash him a forced smile, muttering a hasty “nothing” before turning your head back toward the window. he knows you’re lying. he stays silent for a little while, holding you close to him and continuing to sway. the wind lets out a soft howl. hyunjin worries for you. maybe he’d done something wrong. though, if that is ever to happen - which it very rarely does - you wouldn’t hesitate to tell him about it. there’s too much love and trust between you for such petty discourse.

“i wouldn’t be upset if you told me you were lonely, you know,” he says.

that’s when it clicks. all the tears you couldn’t bring to the surface finally rise to grace your eyes, blurring your view of the navy blue night outside the window. slowly, as the first droplet descends upon your cheek, you turn to face the one you love so dear. his eyes widen.

immediately, hyunjin wraps his arms around you, prompting you to do the same. you can no longer conceal the weight of the remoteness with which your mind has plagued you, letting your sobs emerge in full intensity. there’s something so freeing about being held so tightly - so tenderly - during a time like this. you can do no wrong. you may simply let everything out, molded back into shape by his engulfing presence like clay in the hand of a sculptor. he shuts his eyes tightly, listening to your choked expressions of anguish and feeling as you shudder in his arms.

“i’m sorry,” you mutter into his chest as the intensity of your weeping begins to diminish. “it’s not your fault.”

he pulls you away from him, looking into your eyes with deep sympathy as he holds onto your shoulders. “it’s not yours either. baby, everybody feels lonely. i do, too, when you’re not with me.”

you sniffle, lifting your eyes to look back into his. your hands remain on his waist as you absentmindedly fiddle with the fabric of his t-shirt. you’re vulnerable. “really?” you murmur.

scoffing, he replies, “of course! i’m obsessed with you!” you giggle. that was his aim. he smiles back at you, admiring your features. he loves it when you smile. when all the world grows silent for but a moment, allowing for his favorite soul to shine. the life in your face is pure enough to bring tears to his own eyes. he cups your cheeks with both of his hands, surveying you closer. his smile diminishes, turning urgent. he then continues, “i love you. you know that right?” you nod in response. “good. don’t forget it. and never forget that you’re not alone either. feeling lonely and being alone are two different things. it’s okay to feel lonely sometimes. but as long as i’m alive, i’ll be with you. you’ll never be alone. okay?”

hearing his words and gazing into his honest eyes, your heartbeat comes to a steady pulse. you love him more than anything in the world. he always knows what to say. you sniffle again. “okay.”

“and to prove it to you,” he adds, pointing a finger toward you and taking your hand in his, guiding you back to the foot of the bed. “i promise to hold you all night long. and all day tomorrow, if you’ll let me.” he smiles. though his tone and expression are playful, you’re aware of the truth behind his sentiment.

“you promise?” you ask, a smile forming on your face.

“i promise.” his voice takes on a mockingly villainous persona as he grips onto your waist, quickly pulling you to him in one swift motion. “you’ll never be able to escape my clutches!” his eyes widen to a comedic degree, squinting in playful villainy. but alas, his growing smile does little to hide his inner goodness. his love.

“luckily for you, i’d never want to,” you tease in response. you’ve nearly forgotten that which had kept you awake all this time. he just has a way of making you forget about your troubles. it’s an indescribable gift.

he does his best evil cackle, lowering his voice and puffing out his chest. as he does so, he slowly lets himself fall backward onto the bed, taking you down with him. you let out a small squeal as you land on top of your giggling lover, surprised by his actions. as you join him in his laughter, he raises his hand to pull your face down to his, connecting your lips in a spontaneous, unfeigned expression of his love for you. kissing you is always more of an instinct than a decision. he can’t help it. there’s no other way, in his mind, to express the depth of his emotions toward you. and with each kiss, you accept and reciprocate his affections.

he pulls away, flipping you onto your back with his hands on your hips. as soon as you land, he’s quick to climb on top of you, wrapping himself around your form as if his life depends on it. you let out a full belly laugh, mainly due to the new pressure he’s applied to your body, as he proudly and wickedly exclaims, “you’re MINE!”

so you are. and he is to you as you are to him. he always will be, no matter how lonely you might feel. what he said is true. as long as he’s here, all of your intrusive thoughts are just that: thoughts. there is a clear distinction to be made between what you think and what you know. and, as bouts of laughter arise from both yourself and your predestined beloved, you know that you are truly never, ever alone.

tags: @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @kisskissbanggang, @mr-jisung-main, @childofthecosmos, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @sunshine-skz, @vera-liscious, @thatrandomoneinthecorner, @cyberskz, @seungminsaidsta, @somethingrandomworld, @ethan806, @siedhr ( join my tag list !! )

#districtninewriters #inkidz #skzwritersclub #straykidsland #fluffyskzclub #*fics #*domus amoris #skz #stray kids #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin imagines #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #hwang hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fluff

211 notes · View notes

haikyooot · 3 years ago

Text

Eight

Pairing: Kita Shinsuke x gn!reader

WC: 2.2k

Genre/Tags: comfort, slice-of-life, meet-cute-ish, magic, soulmate, allusion to death/dying

A/N: For the lovely Lou @alouphen. Thank you for joining the MYML event and taking a leap-of-faith. I’m so thankful for all the love and support you’ve given me. I knew I wanted stargazing for you and Kita, it’s my KitaLou hc LOL and recently I’ve been just obsessed with an “eight day of the week” idea. Hope you enjoy <3 and of course, Happy Birthday to our most beloved Shinsuke~

You turn the lamp off and bury yourself under the blanket. It's Sunday night, meaning tomorrow is Monday. Monday means the start of another week at work, another week of being tired, the start of a never-ending sprint where you can barely catch a break. The weekends, however, are filled with chores and running around. If anything, you feel even busier sometimes. If only there's just one more day of the week, an eighth day, just for you...just for rest.

If you fall asleep now, you'll have how many hours to sleep before you have to wake up? If you subtract that time with...the time...now...how...long...

Rrringgg!!

It's a morning rush. You throw the covers off of you and haul yourself to the bathroom to wash-up. There's no time to think about anything else other than the minutes and the seconds ticking by. Every moment fleeting past another...the train will depart soon, you have to catch it so you won't be late for work. There's no time for food this morning, yet again—no aesthetic brunch like the ones from those lifestyle vlogs online.

But then, it's all incredibly bizarre when you look at your phone for the second time in the morning. You are confused. The date and time on the phone is completely frozen in place. You don't have the energy to deal with your phone's technical malfunction (what you deduce), but you soon realize, the moment you step out the front door, just how quiet it is outside. No beeps or honks, not a car in sight. Not a pedestrian to be seen.

A walk around the neighborhood finally confirms your suspicions that maybe for you and you alone, time has stopped. But not everything is unmoving. The sun's warmth still shines down on you, the breeze still tickles your neck. It's more accurate to say that time is still moving for you, just not for other people. It's a special day just as you hoped for. An eighth day.

"In that case...it's time to sleep again!" you exclaim happily, going back to your room. Kicking your shoes off and changing back to loungewear, you dive back into the comforts of your bed, cuddling yourself into blankets, happy and content. "Finally, I can sleep without an alarm bothering me..."

But you can't fall asleep. Maybe it's your body's natural cycle, trained over and over again by the alarm clock. After tossing and turning, creating three different hot spots on the bed, you are convinced you're unable to fall asleep. Your stomach is growling, crying out for the food you usually don't have time to prepare. Usually, but today isn't usual.

The hum of the fridge fills the silence in the kitchen. The glass clinks when you set it down on the counter. The hissing sound of water running through the faucet pours into the empty glass. There's the whistle and quick snaps of the gas stove when you first turn it on, followed by the sizzle of hot oil cooking food. Every interaction between each surface strikes a sound unlike anything else. The symphony of these sounds are all so familiar in those vlogs you watch late at night, but hearing them in real life for the first time is both strange and heartwarming.

They echo of the walls interact with the space which you are in, enveloping your senses. The smell of nourishment comes through to tell you food is ready. And perhaps for the first time in a long, long while, you sit down quietly at the table for a meal, looking at the careful plating slowly becoming messy bite after bite. Gradually, everything disappears until a dirty, empty plate sits in front of you. But your belly is full. And your heart is happy.

Now that you're fed...now what?

You ponder this question over and over again. You have all this time—this eighth day. What can you work on? There's no one beckoning you over to help them. No one else who you have to care for today. Everything is stagnant. So how should you be productive, you lament.

It's frightening how fast time goes by just staring at clouds. Sometimes they are like a silk gauze flying through. Other times the puffy, majestic shapes are like a castle in the sky, slowly traveling where the wind takes them. As the clouds move, your eyelids are finally lulled shut as you bask under the shade of trees. Fragmented sun dance across your skin between the crevices of branches and leaves.

When you wake, it's because the cicadas have grown so impossibly loud. The sky is no longer blue, but a blend of red and orange. But no. No! How can it be?! Just a moment ago you were still here...you had closed your eyes for just a moment yet where has all the time gone?

Gone.

You get up to your feet and smooth out your clothes, brushing off a twig and a leaf caught on the fabric. You could've used this time to clean the room, could've slept more, could've studied more, caught ahead of others more. But all you did today was nothing.

"Why couldn't I have done more?" you berate yourself as your feet take you into a direction aimlessly. That's what it usually feels like day to day. Endless and aimless. The sun finally sets beyond the horizon line, taking away the last shreds of light away with it.

A moonless night, there's only darkness in sight. Your eyes can barely make out the shapes in the dark shadows. You look behind you and see the night staring back. All around you, it seems to try and seduce you. But the way it wraps and envelops you is different from the blankets on your bed or the smell of brunch in the kitchen...or the warm breeze under daylight. This one feels cold and lonely. Is it the night or you?

What can possibly be good?

You don't know where you're going, but regardless of the doubts, your feet keep shuffling—one foot in front another. Small, tiny, hesitant steps walk into the night. After a long journey till the soles of your feet begin to ache, you make out the shapes of an empty field. A vast expanse of rice paddies with new sprouts freshly planted, still barely visible to the eye. Somehow you can make them out in the water. There's no wind. The water is still and crystal like the surface of a mirror. And oh, it is certainly a mirror.

"It's a pretty sight isn't it."

The man's voice spikes your heartbeat in an alarmed frenzy; not because the voice sounds aggressive, but rather you did not expect another person to also be moving in the same time as you. You check your phone, wondering if time is moving now.

"There's still a few more hours left," he explains, realizing what you are wondering. "You can sit on the banks over there, it's much prettier up close."

He begins to walk over towards the paddy fields, leaving you still standing in the same spot. He turns around and smiles. "I'm Kita Shinsuke."

Kita is enigmatic. His footsteps are so quiet and there's almost an otherworldly sense to him. You sit down next to him and follow where his fingers are pointing, look at the paddy fields again. The mirror lake contains thousands of shimmering dots, sparkling and twinkling. They seem so close, as though if you stretch your hand into the water, you can scoop them up.

For the first time tonight, you look up towards the sky and see the stars. It's the first time you have seen them so clearly. No moon to distract you. No city lights to blind you. Just the blackness of the night and the diamonds found within its fabric. The night doesn't seem so desolate after all.

"Wow..."

Your eyes travel from one star to the next, trying to connect them and the stories behind them. How far away they seem in the sky, in comparison. They must be further than you can comprehend. They say that the stars you see are ones from the past.

"I wonder...what the people were doing then when the star actually looked like this..."

A laugh erupts from Kita, the sound rumbling through his chest and spilling out like chimes. "I wonder the same. I also wonder what the stars really look like right now. And what the world will be like when that star can be seen on Earth."

"We won't be around at that point."

"Probably not. But even if the people in the past didn't know about light-years, I bet they marveled all the same.

Two people. Of different times, different locations, even different lives can maybe share a bond through the sun, moon, and stars."

You don't respond to Kita's dramatic observation of the cosmos and instead stare at the reflection of the stars again. A dragonfly lands on the water for a brief moment before fluttering away, leaving behind three small ripples that quickly disappear into stillness once again.

"In a few more hours, it'll be Monday," Kita laments.

"Can you read my mind or something?" you inquire, both frustrated and alarmed.

"No, but seeing the ripples fade reminds me of this truth. Isn't it also for you?"

"...It does."

Kita leans back completely, folding his hand behind his head. "An eighth day. A special time for yourself. No responsibilities, no identities, nothing but you and yourself. Isn't it nice to be reminded of what will endure beyond anything else?"

After living for all these years, it's the first time you have seen stars like this. Come to think of it, it's the first time you have walked through the natural cloak of night. The first time in a long, long time, you have stopped and waited. Stopped and examined your place in the world as a guest in the universe's existence. Finally took a break. Breathed.

You also lean back onto the grass and join Kita in gazing at the stars. How wonderful would it be for this view to live on forever?

"It's nice!"

Rrringgg!!

Your hand shoots out from the cover to tackle your phone. You swipe the alarm off and sit up in bed. Monday. Work day. You get up for your morning routine. The same one you have been repeating for years now. It feels monotonous, but perhaps the water you splash onto your face today wakes you up a bit more than usual. You smile at yourself in the mirror before you step out of your home into the loud and bustling world outside.

The honks and beeps are back. People rush about trying to get to where they need to be. While you rush to catch your train, you feel a breeze pressing on your back nudging you forward. Nothing changed, you think. It is all just a really long, really nice dream.

When you leave work for the day, the sky is once again the same red and orange. As you stand in the crowded train, you observe the other commuters heading home after work. Some have tired, exhausted expressions. Some are nodding their way into slumber, nearly falling out of their seats. The students are huddled over their phones and handheld games. A parent is on the phone with their kid reminding them to cook rice in advance. And there's you, a silent observer watching the diverse group of people going about their daily lives, a commuter who in the midst of observations, misses their station.

The scenery suddenly becomes unfamiliar. You normally don't go past your stop at all, not in this direction. When you arrive at the last station, it occurs to you that it isn't a completely new place. You have most definitely been here yesterday. Either it's yesterday, or in a dream. That dream is too vivid and detailed, taking you to a place where you're sure you haven't been to before.

As your feet take you step by step down the road, it feels as though you really have been here. Your feet seem to know where they are going. And before the final lights of the sun are gone, you see the paddy fields. A few farmers are driving their tractors around, a couple wrapping up the day to go home. You spot him.

Kita Shinsuke. He's wiping some sweat off of his brow with the towel around his neck. A few farmers are chatting with him about something you're too far to make out. Right when you're about to call his name, he catches sight of you.

You want to shout at him, demanding answers or at least an explanation of sorts. Did the eighth day really happen? All you see are Kita's eyes, full of mirth, waning into crescents as he puts a finger to his lips. Seeing as there are other people around Kita, you decide to follow Kita's direction and swallow the questions you have. After pacing about the area for a while, the other farmers finally leave.

Kita walks over to you, each step reminding you of the person you counted stars with. He stops in front of you giving you a warm smile and holds his hand out.

"So, you're back."

You wrap your hand around his in a firm hand-shake.

"I guess I'm back."

#kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kita shinsuke #myml #emi.freshtea #kita our love happy bday bb

51 notes · View notes

folkloreguk · 4 years ago

Text

Gold Rush (optional bias)

A/N: I honestly don’t know a lot about the middle ages, so if anyone is a history genius, pls bare with me if I write something that doesn’t make sense asfghjk PS: feedback is greatly appreciated!!

genre: optional bias (male), thief!au, strangers to enemies to lovers, medieval!au, suggestive content, reader is always ready to fight lmao, a tiny bit of angst

summary: As thieves, you both try to steal from the same royal carriage. Only it doesn’t go as planned for either of you. Will you get away before the king sentences you both to death?

words: 8.9 k

You had been tailing the royal carriages for an entire day now. You were sure your horse was getting exhausted, but the sun was setting and you knew what that meant. Soon, the transport would come to a halt. They would find a clearing somewhere, with trees as shelter from all sides. Then, they would set up their camp for the night, only to pack up everything in the morning and travel another two or three days, until they reached their destination: the castle. Only instead of delivering the full carriages, with gold, silver, pearls and gems, a few handfuls would be missing. It would be almost nothing to them, you suspected. They might not even notice it disappeared.

To you, however, it meant existing. You had to admit, being a thief hadn’t been your first choice when it came to choosing an occupation for the rest of your life. You had tried to integrate into different businesses. You were going to learn to be a baker, a glover and even tried to keep a job helping out on a farm. But none of these professions were for you. You were tired of being commanded around by men who tried to make you their little maid or worse – ask you for your hand in marriage. The judgement was tedious. “Aren’t you too old to be unwed?” “Where is your husband?” “How many children do you have?”

You wished you could talk back. “No, I’m just fine, he doesn’t exist and none – is it any of your business, by the way?” But you had learned that arguing with elders would only get you in trouble, and perhaps your decision to refrain from living the typical life was exactly what made it impossible for you to keep a job. That was, until you discovered your talent – a sleight of hand that was invincible. Some would call it avaricious; you would prefer to describe it as a passion. It wasn’t evil, just a thrill you enjoyed chasing. The beginnings had been humble. A few coins out of someone’s pocket here and there, some food from an unsuspecting marketer; you had to keep yourself afloat somehow, right?

But the seasons went by, and you became more audacious and greedier for your beloved adrenaline. Plus, you realized that stealing from the rich had something weirdly rewarding. Maybe it was the anger you felt at the king for hoarding the wealth of the land whilst letting his people starve in the streets. Either way, stealing from those who had power made you feel a sense of benevolence. You gave away some of your stolen goods to those who actually needed them, instead of letting all the money and jewelry rot away in someone’s bag and around someone’s neck. Sometimes you hid in the shadows after your theft had been settled, only to see the reactions of your victims. It might have sounded obsessive, but it gave you assurance, when they moved on after only minutes of complaint, because you knew those few coins were miniscule to all of them.

And currently, you were on to one of your most reckless thefts. You were well aware this could get you killed. Yet you couldn’t help it, the glimmer of the jewels and the gold was hypnotizing. Finally, the carriages had come to a halt. From a safe distance, you observed how they unloaded their tents and checked especially carefully where they kept the most desired goods. The wares would stay in the carriages, probably guarded all night long. You would need to wait for the right moment.

“Good job today, my dearest Dorato,” you whispered to your horse as you tied the reins to a tree. Gently, you pat his nose. He pushed his head closer to you, demanding more affection, but your eyes were already on your objective. For at least an hour you stood, hidden in the thicket, waiting for the sun to set completely and some of the men to lay to sleep. With a hawk’s gaze you counted the men and made sure you knew each of their whereabouts. One of the wagons stood with its back opening facing you – which was perfect. It was like they were presenting the goods to you on a silver plate. To the left of the wagon, some of the men had lit a bonfire and were seated around it. Judging by their laughter and lively conversations, you doubted they would go to sleep soon. One of them was sitting on the edge of the carriage, meant to guard the inside. He, who should have been paying the most attention, however, was fast asleep. And that was your chance.

“Wish me luck, Dorato,” you whispered to your horse, running your hand over his warm neck. Then, you slowly moved towards the carriage. Outside the shielding cover of the trees, you felt you needed to act quickly. The gales of laughter were helping against your vulnerability in reminding you that the men around the fire were trusting their sleeping guard to have everything under his control. Sly as a fox, you kept your distance and approached the opening of the wagon only when the bonfire was out of sight. You pulled the fabric to the side and with a swift jump, you landed on the edge of the carriage right next to the dozed off man. It only took one maneuver and you had opened the wooden chest nearest to you.

You grinned in triumph at the jackpot in front of you. With eyes sparkling just as much as the diamonds and gems, you grabbed handfuls and transported them into your bag.

“Henry, change of shift!” someone suddenly shouted. Their voice sounded scarily close to you, and then you heard footsteps approaching. Even though you had wanted to be greedier and steal some more, this was definitely your cue to get out of there. If they saw you inside the wagon, you’d be done for. So, without second thought, you yanked the cover away and leaped off the edge.

“Thief!” the surprised man howled as you passed him. Luckily, this wasn’t the first quick escape you had ever had to make. Your feet carried you rapidly, over the grass and into the trees where your horse stood. One quick pull and the reins had come off the tree trunk.

“Over there!” a hoarse man growled. Now more voices were heard, curses and angry shouts directed your way.

“Let’s go, boy,” you said and hauled yourself into the saddle. You pushed your legs against his belly, quickly signaled your horse the way and he knew the drill already. He took off sprinting, out of the forest cover. The wind in your face momentarily forced your eyes to tear up a little and you squinted against the cool night air. But just as you thought you were getting onto the gravel road, one of the guards jumped out in front of you. The fire from the torch he was holding danced aggressively in the wind. As he pointed it high, it was a blaze against the darkness of the night sky, and Dorato whinnied in terror. He jumped and reared up, and you lost balance.

“Seize her!” a man shouted at your disoriented figure on the ground. You wanted nothing more than to get back on your feet and flee. But it was no use. You were surrounded by a number of gravely livid men, and should you try anything stupid now, it would cost you your life, probably. Somebody grabbed your shoulders and pulled you up.

“Take the horse,” one of them ordered and your eyes widened. If they hurt your best friend it was the last thing they would do, you swore in silence. But to your dismay, as the men dragged you over to the wagon, they ripped your quiver and your bow from your back. You sat still as they tied your hands and feet and hurled you into the very wagon you had just stolen from.

“There you have your gemstones,” a guard spoke. “Look at them as much as you want, because soon you won’t be looking at anything anymore.”

Giving him a gaze so spiteful it should have hurt him physically, you spit right into his face. Lucky for you, he wasn’t up for a fight. It wasn’t on him to convict you for anything just yet. A complacent smile spread on your face as he walked away, wiping your saliva out of his eyes. At least now you had a guaranteed roof over your head for the night.

You were in slight trouble, you had to admit that. In two days, you would arrive at the castle. Depending on what the king decided, your punishment could be as severe as death. But until then, it would be a while. There was still plenty of time to escape, you assured yourself.

All night long, no matter how much you forced your eyes shut, you didn’t catch a minute of sleep. The men’s chatter was simply too loud and maybe you were concerned for your safety, after all – even if you would have never confessed it to someone other than yourself. The heavy chests of luxurious items sat across and next to you, as if they were mocking you for your foolish actions. For hours you sat staring at them, cursing your greed. Only in the morning, when the carriages continued their journey, the rocking of the wagon lulled you into a slumber.

You awoke later that day. Judging by the dim light falling into the carriage, it must have been the early evening. Curious, you scooted to the edge, lifted the fabric that was covering your sight and checked. Your assumptions had been right. The golden sunlight of the last hour of daytime shone into your face. The wagon you were in was the last of them, behind you only the bright gravel and trees left and right. For a while you daydreamed the boredom away. You went into another world, in which you didn’t have to steal to survive. In your real life, you were either born into luxury or you had to toil each day for the rest of your existence. There was no hard work that could have transported you out of your peasant-state and into something more carefree.

Suddenly, shouts ripped you right out of your dreamworld. The wagon had halted, but when you looked out the back, nothing was there. Trying to learn what the commotion was all about, you concentrated on the chaos of voices. Had they all gotten into an argument? The men were all talking at the same time, so there was really no use but to wait and see.

“You will be delighted to have some company until you receive your sentence from the king,” a man said. Footsteps drew nearer. Someone pulled away the fabric at the end of the wagon. Before you knew it, a figure was pushed inside. It was a young man but clearly not one of the guards, as he was dressed like a peasant. With a groan, he was bracing himself up across from you.

“Enjoying the ride?” the guard outside the wagon taunted you with a sneering grin. You spat in his face. Again.

“You little-“ he snarled.

“Let’s go! We can’t lose any more time!” someone yelled and unknowingly saved you from more trouble. The man disappeared and the carriages began to move again.

You welcomed the newest addition to your wagon by staring him down like he was about to take all the gold and diamonds clearly reserved for you. When he had sat up and checked his surroundings, he noticed your look.

“Is there a problem or something on my face?” he asked.

“Were you trying to steal from them?” you asked back. “Didn’t go as planned, did it?”

“Were you not?” he replied. “My highness, we’re in the same situation, so don’t you try to aggravate me out of tediousness.”

“Don’t you mock me, or you’ll receive the same response as the guard did,” you threatened. “And you are very wrong. You are going to be brought to the castle and thrown into a prison. I will escape.”

“Is that so?” he asked. “I see you’re making great progress with getting out of these ropes. You better hurry, or I’ll get away before you do. I can carry a lot in my pockets.”

You huffed.

“The diamonds are mine,” you stated, matter-of-fact.

“Whoever gets out first will have them,” he replied. “I’m betting on myself.”

“God…could you not have chosen a different day to steal from the royals?” you asked, making it sound more like a statement than a question.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was your highness’ turn today,” he said, and his smile was taunting and cocky at the same time.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” you hissed, one second from collecting your saliva in your mouth.

“What do you prefer then?” he asked. His smirk made you wonder whether he was contemplating to suggest some more stupid pet names for you. He better not, you thought.

“I don’t know…what about my name?” you said. “It’s Y/N.”

“All right, Y/N,” he said. “And would you consider sitting on death row one of the more entertaining parts of your job? Are you used to it?”

If only looks could kill, he’d be torn to shreds.

“This is the first time I’ve ever been caught,” you said. “But judging by how lightly you’re taking this, you must spend more time in jail than outside of it.”

“What can I say? The guards love me,” he said. “But didn’t they teach you to be honest? I don’t believe you. Or maybe you were a coward for so long and this is your first time actually trying to steal. What’s the truth, sweetheart?”

There was nothing you despised like people who underestimated you. And with that, you spat in his face and turned away from him. Know-it-alls weren’t going to be granted a second of your attention.

“Hey, talk to me,” he said. “We’ll be here for another while, so we might as well become friends.”

“Missed your chance,” you said. And it was the last thing you said to him for a long time. Even when he tried so hard to lure you back into a conversation. You knew if you gave in, he’d never learn.

“My name is H/N, by the way. Oh, that’s right. You don’t care. I forgot,” he said. And he was right.

Having to rot away by yourself in the back of a carriage was already exhilarating enough. But rotting away in the back of a carriage while an irritating young man filled your head with stupid stories you could care less about? It made hell sound inviting. Even when the guards had set up their camp for the night, he occasionally tried to get you back into conversation. Because you had slept throughout the day, you knew you’d be awake until the early morning hours, a fact that only made your situation more unbearable.

Your ears picked up the crackling of the wood as the bonfire fed on it next to the wagon. Suddenly, a guard pulled aside the curtain. Without a word, he slid a plate with a piece of bread and a bowl with some water inside and left.

“This is going to be hard to eat with my hands on my back!” the young thief in front of you shouted, but the guard only laughed.

“Nice try,” you said, eyeing the food.

“Oh, she speaks after all,” he said. “And at least one of us is trying.”

“If I had one coin for every time you’ve provoked me since we met, I could buy my freedom,” you said. And again, he was in the wrong. Obviously, you had tried hard to figure out a way to get out of the restraints digging into your skin. If only you had a sharp object or –

“Are you gonna eat that?” he asked, pointing his head at the bread. He was willing to share, at least.

“I’ll bite off half and you get the other side,” you announced and bent your head down to the plate.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, shoving you out of the way so you tumbled onto your side with a huff of surprise.

“What the fuck is your issue?” you asked, regaining you posture.

“I’m taking the first bite,” he said. “I don’t know where your mouth has been.”

“I’ll show you where my mouth is,” you snapped. The next moment you tackled him, teeth digging into his shoulder. He groaned in pain, ferociously pushing you off him. His foot hit your thigh and you realized if you had any chance of getting away, an injured leg wouldn’t make it easier. So, you trudged away slightly.

“Are you out of your mind? Did you just really fucking bite me?” he growled.

“Go ahead, eat your damned bread,” you snarled. With a sulky sigh, you leaned back against the chest behind you, shut your eyes and tried to keep your fury in check.

You sat that way for an hour, maybe a few. With time, the roaring laughter from outside had died down. It must have been the middle of the night when you opened your eyes again. The silence let you conclude that your fellow captive had fallen asleep. Finally, you bent down to where you suspected the water bowl to be and took a few gulps. Only now you realized just how empty your stomach was. But your nose picked up something. Bread. In the darkness, you could hardly make out the half of the piece he had left for you. His humble act redacted your opinion of him from 100 to 98% dickhead. Like a starved animal, you gobbled the food. When you took your place against the chest once more, even you managed to snooze off into a much needed rest.

When the carriage steered through a pothole it shook you out of your slumber. Surprisingly, it was completely bright outside.

“You’re just on time,” the young thief across from you announced. “We’re about to arrive at the castle.”

He hadn’t woken you up. Maybe he had earned a few more sympathy points – with emphasis on a few. Only twenty minutes later, you were lead trough the cold halls of some dark part of the castle, down into the dungeon. While the guards dragged you around, even your loudmouth shut. This was new territory and made you slightly nervous. Were you going to make it out of here? So far, nothing was decided. You dearly prayed the king would be in a fantastic mood when he convicted you.

Your whole body was sore from the hours of sitting in the same position on the hard wood of the wagon, so you almost welcomed being shoved through the uninviting halls. One of the guards cut the remaining ropes from your hands, before pushing you into a cell. Much to your dismay, your fellow wagon inmate would also join you in this prison.

“The king will tend to you lowlives when he has time,” the guard said. The loud metallic clash of the prison bars closing and the lock sliding in place sounded like your demise. Your eyes followed the guard’s figure helplessly, until he had disappeared down the dark hallway. A slam of a door indicated that he was gone. Like a nervous animal, you paced from one wall to the other over and over. Your arms were crossed in front of your body and you were trying hard not to have a nervous breakdown. You needed your brain for more vital things right now – like contriving a plan to escape this hellhole before you could be sentenced to death.

“Would you sit down, goddammit!” the young man remarked. He was leaning against the back wall of the cell, eyeing you closely. “I need to think!”

“Do you think I don’t?” you replied. The moment of panic in your voice was short-lived, but he probably noticed it either way.

“I can’t focus if you’re losing it in front of me,” he said. “If you’re already processing your inevitable death, that’s cool with me. But I’m still planning on getting out of here, so please try to process in silence.”

Your nostrils flared in anger and you clenched your hands to fists by your sides.

“You idiot!” you said. “If you hadn’t done everything in your power to make me despise you right when we met, we could have tried to flee together.”

“Last time I checked, you were the one biting me for having a sense of personal hygiene,” he fired back. “We’re stuck in here. But get it together, we’re not on death row yet.”

In disbelief you stared at him, your irritation almost drowning out the restless pounding inside your head. He held his chin high as if to challenge you. And you could have gone for it. Down here in this cold, forlorn dungeon no one would hinder you from fighting each other. No, you knew for a fact that not a single soul in this castle gave one last damn about whether you lived or died. But you were completely drained. After all the sleep you had gotten, you should have been wide awake, and maybe your body was – but your mind was in the middle of shutting down. So, even though it hurt your pride, you stopped your uneasy walking and mirrored his behavior on another wall. Arms crossed and eyebrows furrowing, you kept your eyes on the ground. Maybe he was right. Giving up wasn’t characteristic for you, so why was your head spinning from dread?

In desperate search of some sort of hope, you caught glimpse of his rather relaxed stance. If he could keep up a calm front, maybe you could too. Luckily, he wasn’t looking at you, and not noticing how you drew strength from his so simple but enheartening behavior.

Three days into your stay in the dungeon, you had found a daily rhythm. Your mornings consisted of pretending to be asleep for as long as you possibly could, then holding yourself back from attacking your beloved cellmate because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut for more than five minutes. By midday your arguments had usually turned into playful bickering, because you couldn’t cope with being angry all the time. And frankly, you were bored. Even though standing his endless interrogations about your life was exhilarating, it was still better than losing sense of time and in the process also losing your sanity. Late, when darkness had fallen upon the land, a guard delivered a small ration of food for both of you. This was the part where your bickering morphed back into serious conflicts. If you were going to live on tiny amounts of food, you wouldn’t settle for the smaller ration of the two.

The fourth day was different. When you first reached consciousness, you heard nothing. Usually, he was already awake, noticing like a stalker when you awoke, only to tease you from the moment you woke up. But that day, you opened your eyes to a seemingly empty cell. Until you spotted him in the corner. His body was shaking, and his tiny, husky cough concerned you further.

“H/N?” you asked quietly. Considering the amount of loathing you’d thought you held for him, you sure worried an unnormal amount. But it wasn’t the mere thought of him being ill that concerned you most. It was the idea of having to suffer in the dark, murky dungeon all alone, day to day, until you’d have to face the king, who likely wanted you dead for your crimes. An ice-cold fear crept over you. You didn’t want to – no, you couldn’t – die lonely. Even if he was the last person you could have wished to be thrown into prison with, he was still company. This loathsome cell, the horrors of the near future, the neverending progression of time and the uncertainty that came with it – it all terrified you to the bone. Only now you realized just how much comfort he gave you, all by existing in the same space as you.

Carefully, you approached him. He wasn’t answering you, and he never not answered you. It was a heartbreaking sight. He was curled up in a fetal position, hands clenched to fists on his chest. A thin layer of sweat glistened on his forehead. Whether he liked it or not, you sat down with him. Gently, you reached for his forehead. A second was enough to determine he was burning up.

“Get off me,” he said, slapping your hand away. His voice was so frail.

“Hush. Let me help you,” you insisted. He huffed in annoyance.

“Are you a doctor when you’re not a thief?” he asked.

“No. But improving your mentality will help your body recover faster,” you said. “And you seem to be in a very negative headspace right now.”

His mouth opened to speak, but then a shiver rippled through his body and he wrapped his arms around his knees tightly. All this time, he hadn’t even opened his eyes.

“We need to keep you cool,” you said. “Take off your jacket.”

“This isn’t the time to ask me to take off my clothes,” he said, almost whispered.

“Will you just do as I say so you can get better? Do you want to die in here?” you said, brushing off his words. Something flashed across his face. Fear? Disappointment? Aware that it could invade his comfort zone, you very carefully took his hands. Lucky for you, he let you. When his jacket came off, you noticed the sweat stains that had formed on his thin shirt.

“You can lie down on this, it’ll be more comfortable,” you advised. Without arguing, he followed your instructions and allowed you to spread out the jacket underneath him. This behavior was new, you thought. But you could surely get used it. You knew it must have been serious, if he didn’t give you a silly remark for everything you said.

“I’ll get you more water,” you said, as you retrieved the almost empty water bowl from the center of the stone floor. Set on not spilling a drop, you lifted it to his lips and watched as he swallowed the last few sips. You used the sleeve of your shirt to wipe his wet hair out of his face, as he sunk back down onto the hard ground.

“Sleep now,” you said. You didn’t need to tell him twice. He had been almost unable to keep his eyelids open, so without hesitation, he drifted off into dreamland. For hours, you sat, hugging your knees to your chest, eyes on his anguished figure. Just as you had thought you could deal with the scary ordeal of being held captive in a castle dungeon, this had to happen. Stricken with sorrow, you waited for time to pass. If only you could have slept too, it would have made all the anxious thoughts go away. But someone had to look after him, and you weren’t tired.

His slumber must had been a hag-ridden one. Sometimes, he made small sounds, like whimpers, other times his brows furrowed, and his muscles flexed from whichever terror it was that haunted him in his head.

“Shh, you’re going to be okay,” you assured him, and maybe also yourself. But his tireless stirring only became worse, his body twisting and turning on the uneven ground. He groaned in agony, and your heart clenched like a million little daggers had slashed it.

“I’m here to keep you safe,” you whispered, bending down to his level. With utmost care, you lifted his head and let him rest in your lap. You weren’t really planning what was happening, but your hands found his hands. Softly, you stroked them, waiting for him to calm down and relax his tight fists. His mumbles and quiet moans of distress continued, until you realized. He was trying to tell you something.

“I can’t go like this,” he said.

“You’re not go-“ you started.

“No! My- parents need- me,” he stuttered. By now he was grasping your hands desperately. You sighed and his eyes opened ever so slightly. The anger he had held for you was vanished. You almost teared up at the delicateness of his gaze.

“I need to help them... they’re old and sick and can’t be alone,” he added in a small voice.

“We will get out of here,” you said. You had no idea when there had first been a ‘we’, but now there apparently was. “You have to be strong now, do you hear? Then you can meet your parents again.”

He was looking almost through you. His eyes were so dark, it was like staring right into the deepest part of the ocean. You stroked the back of his hand with your thumb, whilst trying hard to keep a hopeful gaze. For him, you had to appear strong. Or else, how else was he supposed to be?

“I’m sorry- I was such an asshole to you,” he suddenly confessed. “I thought you would steal away the gold before I could. And now look where that brought us.”

“This isn’t your fault. We were both being reckless,” you said. “I’m sorry I bit you. And threatened to spit on your face. And then spat on your face.”

The tiniest smile spread on his face. Success. Any sort of positive emotion could help him now.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he whispered. “I’ll think about whether I can forgive you. You must know, I’m very vindictive.”

His grin was playful, and his eyes were closed, as if he was on the brink of falling back to sleep.

“Forgiveness hurts less than holding a grudge for the rest of your life,” you said. Who knew? Maybe even the king could show remission. All you knew was that you would crumble, would you have to encounter the king alone. Your brain had set on the need for H/N. For years, you hadn’t formed any meaningful relationships – not counting your bond with your ardently loved horse. Now, with his head on your lap and your fingers intertwined with his, you ached for more. Was it really him you wanted? Or had you denied yourself of any affection for such a long time, the smallest contact with anyone appeased your yearning? Would you have felt the same, if it had been somebody else in his place?

At night, the metal noise of the door at the far end of the hallway outside your cell made you lift your head. Gently, so that H/N wouldn’t be awoken, you lifted his head to lay on the jacket instead of your thigh. In impatience, your foot tapped on the ground while you stood in the middle of the cell.

“Sir,” you called the guard with a fake-soft voice. “Will it be possible to receive another cup with water? My fellow inmate has fallen sick.”

The grumpy guard unlocked the metal bars, entering with the usual small ration of food and drink.

“What does it matter if he dies now or by command of the king? Do you think I care?” he growled, not sparing you a glance. You had been almost convinced this would have happened. So, you’d have to resort to different measures.

“Please-“ you begged, suddenly stepping towards the guard, who was on his way out of the cell. Without second thought, you threw yourself onto him, making sure to look extra-devastated and helpless. What could a weak, little young woman do to a guard, other than fall on her knees, right?

“Touch me once more and you’re dead, too, bitch!” he barked. One quick move of your skilled fingers and you eagerly backed off, hands hiding behind your back.

“Sorry, sir!” you said, lowering your head in false shame and guilt. “Please consider my request.”

All he gave you was a grunt of disapproval and he stomped out of the cell, the lock falling into place in a loud crash. Feigning inferiority and intimidation, you didn’t dare move until he was out of the dungeon. Then, you spun to the young man behind you on the ground.

“Open up,” you commanded, suspecting the shouting could not have kept him asleep. Finally, you could pull the flask you had stolen from the guard from behind your back. It seemed to be almost filled to the brim, too. Perfect. He did as he was told, and you let some of the water spill into his mouth.

“I take back what I said in the carriage,” he confessed. “Only full-time thieves have a sleight of hand like yours.”

“It was my pleasure proving you wrong,” you said. “Now, drink up.”

That night, you let him have the full ration of food. For at least ten minutes, he refused to have all of it. But you were stubborn and even though he hadn’t known you for long, he knew that much about you. If you wanted to escape with him, he would need to be fit to run. You had deemed your chances small to begin with, but in his state, you estimated them close to zero. After you had emptied the guard’s flask, you reached through the prison bars and tossed the item as far away from the cell as you could. He should never assume you’d had anything to do with its disappearance. The next day, a different guard would find it there, and bring it back to him under the assumption that he had carelessly dropped it.

Two days passed by. In the first night of the two, you had to comfort him through another few nightmares. During the day, he was sleepy, but had enough energy to have a little conversation with you now and then – something you read as a good sign. The second night, you were able to sleep all the way through, and when you checked his forehead in the morning, it had cooled down a little. On the second day, he had regained his strength enough to be able to sit, leaning against your shoulder.

“Will you stop moving? My head’s pounding,” he said.

“Your complaints make me wonder if you’re doing well now,” you asked, smirking.

“Like I said…my head’s killing me,” he repeated.

“Drink the rest of the water,” you suggested. “I think it’s almost evening. The guard will bring a new bowl soon.”

“It’s your turn to eat tonight,” he stated.

“We’re sharing,” you said. Lucky for him, he didn’t fight back. You wouldn’t have cooperated, either way.

“It’s time to make a plan now, if we want to get out of here. What do you say?” you asked. When he lifted his head, you looked over at him. The color was back in his face, the beads of sweat nonexistent and his cheeky smile bright as ever.

“I wonder…about what your little magic hands did to that guard’s flask…could they do the same with his keys?” he suggested. The way you mirrored his mischievous grin, he knew you agreed. But it would be trickier, this time. From days worth of observation, you had learned that the guards behaved differently. Some adamantly made sure the keys remained in their clenched fists – an instance you couldn’t work with at all – while others preferred to leave them in the lock by the door. You knew you’d never get close enough to even attempt to steal them from there. What you needed was the careless type of guard. The one who snuck the keys into their pockets or left them hanging on their clothes by the keyring. All it took now was to wait and hope the king would keep you locked away for long enough to give you a chance to flee.

That night, luck wasn’t on your side. The guard kept his hands on his keys as if they were his most precious possession.

“Do we really have to go over this again? I told you your pacing is driving me insane,” he said. It was midday of the following day, and you were deep in thought – or you had been – until he had to interrupt you.

“What do you expect me to do? We’re jailed like animals,” you countered. “I can’t stand around like you all day.”

When you saw him open his mouth, you read in his expression what he was about to do. It was his bickering face.

“If there’s one thing I’m not in the mood for currently, it’s getting lectured by you over nothing. Come up with a topic of conversation, please,” you said before he could speak. His smirk concerned you.

“What are you in the mood for, then?” he asked with raised eyebrows. Your death glare said more than a thousand words. “Fine, here’s a conversation topic…let me think…why are you not married?”

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you said in the most impassive tone you could muster.

“Oh, alright, if that’s not good enough, I’ll go back to flirting,” he said. The steps he was taking towards you made your brain activate fight mode.

“I’ve never met a man good enough for marriage,” you said.

“And what qualifies a man to be good enough for you?”

“Hm…where do I begin? I’m not a good cook, nor do I enjoy being a maid, nor do I know how to take care of children. Most men want those things in a woman.”

“You took pretty good care of me, didn’t you? But why waste your thieving talent on running a household?” he said.

“That’s where the issue lays. Men don’t favor women who sneak around the village at night and make their own money from being a criminal.”

“Nothing wrong with being a criminal,” he went on.

You laughed out loud.

“You know what? I like it this way. Why settle for staying with one man who might turn out to be a monster, when I can have them all for a night?” you said.

“Well, right now you’re not having anyone.”

“Seems like that’s bothering you more than it bothers me,” you replied in a feisty tone. If you didn’t call him out for the flirting, who would? Although you had to admit, you greatly preferred being courted to his unnerving teasing.

“Why would that bother me?” he asked. “You hate me, don’t you?”

He was right in front of you now, tilting his head and giving you a smirk that made you consider biting him again. And at the same time, something in your body – not your head – wanted to close the small distance between you two.

“If I hated you, I would have let you die,” you said.

“I assumed you kept me alive because you need me to get out of here.”

Now you had another reason to get up in his face. You gripped him by the collar, looking into his eyes.

“Excuse me? You think I wouldn’t be able to escape by myself? If you’re only trying to rile me up, you better let me know, because I already told you I can’t stand to be underestimated,” you said.

“Alright,” he rose his arms in defeat. “After your little stunt with the guard I’m actually pretty glad I have you in here with me. Honestly, I don’t think I’d get out without you.”

“Was that so hard to spit out?” you said, self-accomplished.

“No. But you only come close to me when you’re mad or worried,” he said. By now, his eye contact was captivating in the most confusing way possible. His eyes occasionally skipped to your lips. “And since I’m not sick anymore, I had to opt for the former.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you said. Unbelievably handsome, your brain added. And yes, maybe he was. Perhaps it wasn’t so much his beautiful face, but the way he spoke, understanding, even encouraging your lifestyle. You had just forced him to be honest with you. So, maybe it was time to stop holding back the truth from yourself, too.

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked. It’s time to give in, you told yourself. Therefore, rather than telling him, you showed him. With a sudden rush of hunger, your lips crashed against his. Momentarily, he seemed taken aback and let out a surprised groan. But within seconds he caught himself, hands grabbing your sides desperately. You thought addictions needed more time to develop, but the feeling of his mellow lips on yours already seemed like one to you.

You had never kissed anyone who had truly made you feel things. Now, your knees were weak in an instant when his tongue grazed yours only for a moment. After so much arguing, it was hard to believe your hands clasping the fabric of his shirt couldn’t be a product of you cursing him but derived from mere want. The way he claimed your mouth silenced even your most invasive thoughts. It was a serenity you had wished for ever since you had gotten caught a few days ago. A moment to breathe freely, make whichever noises you desired and be as close to him as you could.

You pulled him along, stumbling backwards until you hit the cold stone behind you. Being trapped in a dungeon was horrific – but being trapped between his body and the wall left you feeling safer than you had felt in a long, long time.

But the peace didn’t last long. You suddenly heard the all too familiar metal noise from the distance. Alarmed, you sprung apart. As the unexpecting guard walked down the dark hallway, you smoothed out your clothing hastily.

“Congratulations! Your time in here will be over. Tomorrow the king will see you,” the guard announced. You shot your fellow inmate an alerted gaze, which he returned. Silently, he nodded at you. It was time to do something. The guard was now opening the door, bringing inside your food. His key was in his hands – this was going to be an issue. He set the plate down in the front of the room, and was in the process of spinning around, when H/N spoke.

“Sir, may I attract you to a magic trick?” he asked the guard. “I have been practicing it for so long, and it would be a shame if I had to die before I could ever present it.”

“Go to hell,” the guard said.

“I have a coin here,” H/N added. The guard raised his head. “If you win, you get to keep it.”

“Give it to me,” the annoyed man said.

“That’s not how it works. First, I will need both of your hands,” H/N explained. You smiled slightly when the guard sighed. He complied, letting his keys disappear into his oversized pocket. Retrieving them would be child’s play for you.

“Stick up your hands ahead of you. And keep your eyes locked on the coin. Be quick, or you’ll lose it,” H/N said in his dramatic voice. As he lifted his own hand with the coin in it, the guard followed and looked upwards. This was your time. Like a cat, you tip-toed around the guard’s back, not even paying attention to what H/N was doing anymore. Ever so swiftly, your hand slid into his pocket, fingers closing around the chill metal. As quickly as you had approached him, you stepped away, the key sliding into your sleeve and out of sight.

“Incorrect!” H/N called. “But you know what? I will grant you the coin either way. By tomorrow, I might not need it any longer.”

The guard even went so far as to laugh – even if it was a gloating sort of laughter. The only thing left to do now was hope he wouldn’t discover his missing key. But luck was on your side. Without another word, the man stepped out of the cell, shut the door, and walked off. The tune he whistled became smaller and smaller, until it faded out completely.

“Guess who’s getting out of here?” you asked, triumphantly revealing the key.

“You did it!” he exclaimed. You weren’t sure whether it was a spur of the moment decision, or maybe he was just too ecstatic to stop himself, but he flung his arms around your frame and squeezed you tightly.

“Hey, hey, you can’t crush me so close to my escape,” you laughed.

“Our escape,” he smiled. “We need to act fast. He could notice the missing key any second.”

Nodding eagerly, you grabbed half of the bread and downed half of the water bowl. You weren’t going to leave that behind. After all, you never knew when your next meal would be.

“If we make it to the stables, we can get a horse,” he announced. “I saw them on our way here. They’re to the west. The sun should be setting now, if my sense of time is still correct. Let’s hurry, or else we’ll be out of directions.”

“Dorato!” you exclaimed. “They took my horse!”

“The black horse that was tied to the carriage when we came here? I saw him,” he noted. You nodded, swearing you would leave here without Dorato only over your dead body.

Ten minutes later you had successfully exited the cell and approached the door at the end of the hallway.

“Out there it’s on both of us to keep running, okay?” you whispered.

He only nodded. “Towards the setting sun.”

The second you had slipped past the door you were spotted by a maid.

“Prisoners!” she yelled. Your plan to slip away unnoticed had gone down the drain quickly. With one last glance at the young man next to you, you both took off. The way out of the castle was still burned into your brain from when you had been brought inside. Back then, you had already planned to get out, so you had payed an extra amount of attention. When you reached a turn, you barely had time to think about the right way. By now, two guards were after you and you were forced to trust your intuition. H/N was a little ahead of you. The sudden exercise after being refined to a tiny cell for so long made your chest burn in exhaustion after only such a short while. But the adrenaline drowned it all out easily.

You knew you had to be close to the outside, it was a feeling. But then, all of a sudden, a guard cut off your path in front of you. H/N was racing far ahead, so that he could get away. You, on the other hand, had no time to overthink your actions. Before the guard could catch you, you had ducked under his outstretched arms. Now, sprinting down an unfamiliar corridor over the marble flooring, your sense of direction was gone, but your will to survive vigorous as ever.

For minutes you ran, collecting a horde of guards behind you the longer you kept going. When you turned a corner, you were greeted by another long corridor. Only this time, it was a dead end. Nevertheless, you kept up the speed. What else could you have done? By now, your calves felt like they were on fire, breath coming in short gasps. You suddenly took notice of the precious paintings and statues that adorned the hallway. Maybe this was the answer.

Without slowing down, you took hold of a stone vase. Just for a moment, you gathered all your might. Then, you dashed it forward, against the window at the very end of the corridor. Your body followed shortly after, but it was enough time for the glass to shatter before you. In a protective manner, you folded your arms over your chest and shut your eyes tightly as your figure flew through the opening.

When you had passed the window, your eyes opened, and you ducked. Soft grass caught your body as you rolled onto the ground. The impact knocked the air out of your lungs momentarily. But within seconds you were back on your feet. Aggressive shouts from behind you only motivated you to keep going. Faster. Just a little longer. Dawn had broken in, but the sky was still a bright blue to your left. That’s where you were headed. A market place close by acted as the perfect cover for a while. You barely had time to watch out, crashing into people’s shoulders and knocking over bowls and baskets. An enraged shout followed you, but you were already far gone.

And he had been right. Your nose picked up the scent of hay and animals. You had to be close. What if he wasn’t there? What if they caught you again? A short panic bubbled up inside of you. Stealing might could have been forgiven, but for your current deeds no king would let you live. The wooden stables were in sight by now.

You could barely breathe anymore, but something inside of you kept you up and going nonetheless. Every breath burned as you entered, stalls of horses and other animals to your left and right. But no sight of H/N. Nor of your horse. Did he leave without you? Had he assumed you had been caught and tried to save his own life, at least? Your head spun as you scanned the animals one last time. Then, the men’s deep shouts caught up with you. You needed to get out, or else this stable would turn into a trap.

When your feet hit the cobblestone outside, you spotted the mob of angered men and women coming at you. They were holding spears, torches and pitchforks and were livid.

“Y/N!” someone suddenly yelled from your right. The sound of his voice had never sounded better to you. He was on your horse, careering towards you. One last look at the furious crowd of peasants and guards, and then you only focused on him. Only a little more strength, and you could get out of here.

The second he was close enough to you, you started running again. Like you had done so many times, you hauled yourself onto Dorato behind him. Your hands caught his shirt and you pulled your body flush against him. You needed no words. Now, you only needed to trust your horse to get you out of here. Just for a moment, you closed your eyes in exhaustion and took a few, consciously deep breaths. In lightning speed, you raced across the grass and towards the archway out of the courtyard.

And you made it. He shouted in a boisterous tone, and while at first you laughed, you couldn’t help but join his happiness loudly.

~2 months later~

The rough bark of the tree was digging into your back, but you couldn’t have cared less. Not when he was all over you. Not when his scent was so intoxicating, and his busy hands made you forget about any other sensation on your skin. It took no time. You had escaped together, thinking it was your time to part ways after what you had gone through with him. Now, each day you hung on his every word and couldn’t even bear to be away from him for minutes at a time.

Not far from you, your two horses stood, grazing on the grass by their feet. Meanwhile, the two of you, supposed to be on the lookout for your next target, had found another occupation in the cover of the trees. The market close by wasn’t exactly your goal – it was the nobles who would arrive in their carriages like every weekend to spend time by the beautiful lake. While they had their picnics and gossiped about each other, there was enough time for you two check for some gifts to retrieve from their carriages.

You sighed happily as he kissed your neck ever so softly. In him, you hadn’t just found a partner in crime. He was your muse, your comfort and your home. His family was your new family and finally, you had someone to tell all your most unbridles stories and dreams to – someone who could actually reply, with no offense to your horse. Going out stealing was as exciting as hiding between the sheets with him. In such a short time, he had learned to read your face and knew every curve of your body like it was a part of himself, and you had no problem with that.

Suddenly, he pulled away. He looked over your shoulder, gaze changing from tranquil to fierce.

“There they come,” he announced. That moment, you heard the sounds too. Hooves and the crunch of gravel under wheels. Smiling in excitement, you turned to check the situation as well. But you had to be honest, he was much more entertaining to look at. Like in so many cases, you found yourself tied to his gorgeous features and the way his jaw clenched when he was plotting.

“Eyes on the prize, sweetheart,” he said, not peeling his look from the carriages.

“Don’t you know, I’ve already won the best prize there is in the world?” you asked, hearts in your eyes and a cheeky smile on your face.

204 notes · View notes

fire-emblem-drabbles · 4 years ago

Text

Precious Time and Little Lies

Pairing: yandere Xander x reader

Description: Once, when he was a different man, you had loved him. But now, Xander was a manipulative, terrifying monster of his former self, one you had no qualms running away from when the time came. However, you doubted how much he adored you-- and the atrocities he would commit to getting you back by his side.

Rating: sfw

Word Count:

Content Warnings: general yandere behavior, emotional manipulations, mentions of blood

Notes: Another commission for the ever so lovely @modern-zervis-lovemail! In addition, a friends helped me beta this one too, so thank you to @khaenruin for helping me figure this hot mess out. Also would you believe me if I told you I was listening to Kakusei from Promare the entire 5ish hours in total it took me to write this? Because why would I lie about that...

~*~

Today shouldn’t be a day spent on the battlefield. But fate had other plans for you, devious ones that wouldn’t be undone so easily. How long had you been running, escaping his grasp only to find yourself in the midst of his bloody desires? Xander may not be king of Nohr yet but defying still met certain death; or, it would have, had the crown prince of Nohr not held an unhealthy obsession for you…

In better times, kinder, gentler ones, you might have relished in his affection, may have even returned it and been something… more with him. But there was no going back on this choice. Not after you had seen the lengths he would go through for you… that he still continues to do. You can’t think about the lives tolling up in your wake because of him-- that’s just what he wants, for you to think this was all your fault, to break down and lean to him for support. To trap you in his grasp and cradle you there, coddling you and fooling you into thinking he wasn’t a monster with his sweet smiles… You wouldn’t fall for it any more.

Today was the Day of Devotion. You knew, he would be more motivated than ever to find you. You could hear his words now, feel them plaguing your very skull; how sweet it would be, to be reunited on the Day of Devotion. It was sickening. But you had to had to remain strong, Graciously, the Hoshidian’s had allowed you refuge in their country, even letting you travel with their army for a short amount of time to Cyrkensia, where you would hopefully be able to flee the continent altogether, right under Xander’s nose no less. Azura’s performance would be the perfect distraction for you. The fight that would inevitable follow was merely a bonus.

“I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to travel with you this far.” You turn to Corrin and Princess Sakura, as well as Prince Takumi, and bow your head. “I wish I could help you further, but even my mere presence here now is a danger to you all.” Corrin shakes his head, while Takumi just huffs.

“The information you provided is has been immensely helpful. It’s thanks to you we even know Xander will be here today. We can be prepared because of that.” Corrin offers you a small smile, which you return with one of your own.

“You’re absolutely sure they’ll be there?” Takumi isn’t as convinced. For the few days you’ve been here, he’s been on his tiptoes around you; you can’t blame him for his behavior, though.

“Positive. King Garon loves the shows here and…” You heave a sigh, shaking your head. “...had I still been by his side, this would have been the day Xander proposed.”

“Goodness, really?” Sakura gasped. “In front of all these people? How do you even know?” Her face is flush from the mere thought.

“It was the day he wanted to go public with it. We… were engaged far before that. He knew I couldn’t deny him in a front of a crowd of people who adored him…” You clenched your fist tightly.

“Xander…” Corrin looks troubled. Xander was his older brother, after all. The rejection of his younger brother, and now you, his beloved fiancee… Perhaps there was an explanation for his behavior but never an excuse. “I’m sorry this all happened to you _____, I can’t help but feel part of this is somehow my fault.”

“Corrin…” You sigh softly. “It’s no ones fault but Xander’s own. We made our choices, and though they were in opposition to him, they were ours to make.” You take his hand in yours, surprising him before you continue. “But if we fault in the paths we’ve taken, everyone, from the people in your army to Xander himself, will suffer for it. Stay strong.” With one last squeeze of his hand you drop it.

“...Right.” He nods, and you can see him steeling himself. “Today, we’ll end this…”

“The shows about to start, we should hurry.” Takumi sends a look to you over his shoulder, ushering his siblings closer.

“Stay safe everyone. I believe in you.” You send one more smile Corrin’s way before heading off on your own to the ports. If things went okay, they would be able to defeat Garon, and maybe even stop Xander…

You knew little about the world outside of Nohr, Hoshido, or even Nestra, but anything was better than the war that countries faced and the terror that followed you here. It wouldn’t be easy start anew in a foreign place… “You should catch a nice price though…” From your pocket, you produced a ring; casted in white gold, and gilded in the finest of amethyst, any woman would have been proud to where it on their finger. But these engagement ring would be a new start for you in a different way.

“…You kept it?” You gasp and snatch the ring close to yourself, surprised to find yourself cornered by none other than Xander himself.

“W-what? How did you…” Your words died on you tongue as he approached you. You were frozen in place, malleable to his touch as he carefully opened your hand and once more slipped the engagement ring on your right ring finger. His silence, and the lack of any signs on anger on his part made you apprehensive.

“Why did you have to leave me?” He held your shoulders, preventing your escape. His ruby gaze was inescapable, his apparent sorrow scalding.

“Why?” You frown, willing yourself not to fall for his tricks. “Look at you! You’ve become a puppet of your fathers will, Xander!” You wrench yourself free from his grasp, surprising yourself. “Once you were a kind prince, someone the people looked up to; someone who I looked up to.” You take a step but to distance yourself from him. “But you’re just as mad as him now. You’ve taken away my rights, treated me like a child, chased me down the realm and back, and for what? Will you drag me back to your side? Will you prove yourself the craven beast I know you to be?” You glared up at him now, trying your best to read his mood, to not be affected by the hurt you saw in his eyes. He had already done far worse to you.

“Who has fed you these lies, dearest?” Xander approaches you, finally acting on his desire, lies spilling forth from his lips as he stocked towards you. “Who has fed you this poison, that you are so freighted by me even my face before you has you trembling?” You hadn’t even noticed it before, but you were; your hands were shaking and the familiar feeling of adrenaline was beginning to course though your veins. Fight or flight was beginning to over take your mind as he merely got closer, spoke a little more softer to you. “Won’t you tell me who I need take care of?” He got close enough to caress your cheek with his gauntlet only for you to flinch away from his touch. He faltered, if only for a moment.

“You’re too blind to realize it was you yourself who led me to this. I would sooner forsake my homeland and take up arms with the Hoshidian’s than return to your side once more!” You tried to be fierce, to show Xander you weren’t afraid of him. “I won’t go with you.” He was frowning now, lurching forward and taking your arm in a gasp that wouldn’t easily be shaken off.

“Why don’t I take you to see the show? To see what happens to traitors.” His voice was even, his face turning dark as you tried to struggle. His grip was bruising, and you were willing to cause a scene.

“Corrin is your brother!” You argue. “Why are you willing to show lenience to me and not him?” You cry. His shock is enough for him to drop you. You pull back dramatically, gently rubbing the spot on your forearm where he caught you.

“You’ve yet to totally betray me.” His eyes linger on the ring you let him replace on your finger. You hold it protectively to your chest.

“That’s… this is different.” You huff, scowling at him. “There’s nothing left in me that cares for you as I once did.”

“Don’t be foolish.” You yelp, looking back to find Xander’s backed you up to the a large crate near the docks. “You just listened to the same lies those rotten Hoshidian’s fed to Corrin, didn’t you?” He shakes his head softly. “I won’t let them take you from me as well _____.”

“You’ve listened to nothing I’ve said!” You cry. “Xander, stop this! Actually listen to me for once in your life!” You beg him, hands finding place on his chest.

“You must be so confused… And scared…” He sighs, as if some great sorrow was just discovered, as if you really were as scared and confused as he claimed. He was clearly delusional, at least when it came to you and your thoughts and feeling; you really had to escape him now, lest you be stuck with this man who could not see you for what you were the rest of your life.

“I’m not confused! And the only thing I’m scared of is what you’re planning to do-- Xander, Xander stop!” He takes you by the arm, as any prince and gentleman should, and begins leading you over the performance hall. “Let me go!” Though you are loud and vigorous in your attempt to not be lead away from him, the grip he has on you is stronger than anything you could put up a fight against. There isn’t hardly anyone on the streets to see you struggle against him, everyone has gone to the hall to watch Azura preform… You know once you’re in there, it’s too late for you. People will recognize you, hanging off the princes arm. And if his siblings are there, they’ll only reinforce their brothers delusions…

“Everyone’s going to be delighted I found you once more, _____. Elise is even here with us… I dare say she missed you as much as me.” He laughed softly as he lead you inside, as if you weren’t fighting like a rabid animal to be free of his hold.

“...Elise?” You stopped your struggling at her name. You couldn’t let the young Princess know just how twisted and vile her dear older brother had become in your name… if she saw you…

“Xander! _____!” As if on cue, the young girl appeared before the two of you as you entered the building. Barely, you managed to catch her in a hug as she barreled towards you. “Ohh, I missed you so much! I was so scared for you.” She looked at you with big doe eyes, and your heart beat painfully at it. So, this is how he planned to keep you in line…

“Hey sweetheart…” You gently smoothed down her hair as she snuggled into you. “I’m sorry to have worried you, I just…” You pause, looking to Xander as he frowned softly.

“Xander said you didn’t love us anymore, is that true?” Her eyes were watering. You hushed her gently, moving to sit on your knees to better be at her level.

“I could never stop loving you, you know that.” You gave her a smile, a genuine one. Elise’s innocence was something to be protected… You couldn’t let her know the true nature of your relationship with Xander. “I just… had some business to attend to before our big day here, that’s all.” You sigh softly.

“Big day!” She gaps. “Are you two--” You hush her by placing your finger over her lips, and winking.

“It’s a surprise! Don’t ruin it for anyone!” You manage a smile for her.

“Come on you two.” Xander is smiling as well. He helps you to your feet and you can’t help the looming sense of dread that lingers in you as his hands leave you. “The show is nearly over now, and father is expecting us. We’ll get to announce the news after that.” With the joy only a young girl could bring, Elise bounds over to the stairs that lead to the balcony over viewing the stage. Once alone with you, he speaks again. “You even remembered what today was, didn’t you?” You hate how… in love with you he looks. It looks genuine; it brings up old feelings you would rather forget…

“The Day of Devotion.” You frown, looking away from him as you ascend the stairs.

“Today is the day we first say I love you to one another… Was it really two years ago?” He sighs softly and you falter for a moment.

“I said that to a man you no longer are.” He’s silent as the two of you finally make it to the terrace. Elise is there, as is King Garon. You’re greeted with the usual dismissal and nod he had given you in the past; you doubt he even noticed you absence. You look past him, to the crowd gathered on the boats and docks below. You note, its not yet Azura singing… She must not have preformed yet. You can’t see any familiar faces in the crowd, so perhaps Corrin’s army is more well hidden than you thought… Maybe, there was still a chance for you to escape.

“_____…” The songstress’s words are dying in your ears as you meet Xander’s gaze. It’s nothing but tender gazes and bygone feelings that twist around in your stomach. Oh, gods above, he’s kneeling-- Elise is gasping and even Garon has shifted his attention to the two of you, an unreadable look on his face. It’s nearly too much as your stomach turns and shifts inside you. “We’ve been through so much together-- I’ve proven to you I would do anything to keep you at my side. I’ve found you at the ends of our shores, and brought you back where you belong. Please, I can’t bare to be without you-- do me the honor of being my wife, and give me the privilege of being your husband.” He’s so serious. You know you can’t refuse him. Not here, not now. But still, words hesitate to leave your mouth.

“X-xander… I…” You stumble over your words, staring down at him as he gazes adoringly at you. Faintly, you can hear someone else has begun to sing. Their voice is familiar, and even the words they’re singing… Its not until you notice Garon in pain that you gasp. “Azura!” You drop Xander’s hands, much to his dismay, and turn to watch her. Her performance is breath taking and amazingly, its affecting Garon. He looks as if he’s about to burst or something, and things quickly devolve after that.

You can hardly keep up with it; someone is telling Xander the Hoshidian’s are here, Garon is quickly taken away to recover, and Xander is gearing up for battle as Corrin and his army show themselves. Xander, though it all, looks more than angered; you can see through his crimson eyes that this is something that cannot be forgiven.

“They dare ruin our moment?” Xander won’t even let you leave his side, hoisting you up on his horse to fight before you can think twice. “I think it’s high time I show them, and you, just what happens when you betray the kingdom of Nohr.”

“Xander wait! There are still innocent people here!” You beg, gripping on to his back as he rode into battle. “Please, let them escape! It’s not as it if Corrin knew what you had planned today! It’s not worth innocent lives to try and stop them.” You beg. “You have me now. I won’t leave, I promise. I’ll marry you if it means no one gets hurt here today.” Your desperate for Corrin and his army to make their mistake. A battle where they can get away is a battle they might be able to win in the future and that means a future where you might escape Xander.

“_____, dear, had you so easily forgotten what happened when you defy me?” He sighs softly, shaking his head. “These lives I take-- the blood I shed, its all on your hands as well. Perhaps, had you stayed by my side… we wouldn’t be here today.” You hide your face in his back as you feel warm blood quickly rush over you. He’s charging straight for Corrin and the other Hoshidian royals, you know. It’s all you can do to remove yourself from the situation and try not to internalize his words. Still, you can help but wonder… would things be like this had you stayed with him, so long ago? Would there really be no blood on your hands?

#commssion #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere xander #fe fates #xander x reader #fe heroes #guess whose been going through it #me! I have!#I'm more active on the jojo blog now apologies for that #it's just been inspiring me more lately

98 notes · View notes