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livelaughlovesubs · 1 month ago

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~ 06.10 - Boothill ~

Dom!reader x sub!boothill - reader is gender neutral

Warning: a little dark, dubcon, sadistic (?) reader, first time (doing smt sexual), finger sucking, gun play, teasing, dacryphilia, dry orgasm, cumming untouched, hair pulling, use of chemicals, choking, violence, vomiting, kidnapping

~ Word count: 7k ~

Nini!rant: went for a slightly different vibe this time~ how is it?

Kinktober list 2024

“Hah, another fake galaxy ranger? Who’s tryna impersonating us this time?” Boothill lowered his hat to hide his face while he stared at a wanted poster. Still clean, it must be a new commission. At first, he only wanted to check his own bounty, when he noticed another one right next to his.

‘Galaxy ranger […….], wanted, dead or alive, bounty [1.380.000]’

Consider him surprised when he didn’t recognize the name or the face. Him, the one who owns a data bank to support his memories. It could only mean that it’s an imposter. Having a fake ranger’s wanted poster hung right next to his is pretty humiliating, are they looking down on him? “This might be interesting.” The cowboy smirked to himself, yanking off the poster from the wall while he continued his pursuit.

This was going to be a side job, to yearn some cash for his good ol’ alcohol: Asdana’s white oak, about 6% alcohol and fragrant like the fields after rain. A classic among the malts. Pair that with a bullet to match and consider yourself drinking the holy water from the garden of Eve. The bass and gunpowder will bring an exquisite taste only folks with fine tongues can taste. If he had to give a deeper description, the word mellowness would match mighty fine.

Just thinking about the taste raised his spirits. Since he was going to catch you soon and get compensated big, it wouldn’t hurt to celebrate like this once in a while. Don't get him wrong, this isn't indulging, it's enjoying life. Which is why he was standing in front of a bustling bar, his favorite one. The minute he walked in, he felt his mind be at ease, like a ship with smooth sailing. Everything stayed as cozily as he remembered, the same old barkeeper, music, and seats. As if this was his second home, he popped down right next to the counter and put his arm up onto the bar table.

“Boss, here! The usual for me, you know, the lit stuff.” Boothill smirked, his other hand was tapping his knee slowly. “It’s you again, one Asdana without ice?” The man behind the counter seems to remember that very cowboy, as well as his usual order. To that boothill answered, “Of course, I take my Asdana neat.” Then the barkeeper nodded, as if to acknowledge it, commenting, "You are as lively as ever, sir." Before walking off to get the bottle.

Lively? Huh, it's not a word he'd use to describe himself, but it isn't bad. No, not bad at all. In the meantime the cyborg looked around the establishment, seeing many new and old faces that bring back memories. Among those, there was a single shadow that intrigued him. It was the person sitting next to him.

You were there already when he came, sipping away at your drink as your eyes darted around aimlessly. A cocktail of some kind, fading from black to red. If he had to guess, probably hangman’s blood? One of the specialties of this bar, he knows the owner is proud of that drink. It’s pretty strong, you must be good at dealing with alcohol. Maybe you'd be a splendid drinking buddy, he thought to himself, grinning from ear to ear. Meeting new people and making connections never hurts anyone.

Suddenly he moved his chair closer to yours, opening his mouth and attempting to strike up a conversation with you. “Hey, you there, I haven’t seen ya’ around here. This your first time here?” He tried his best to give you a gentle smile, that ended up with him showing off his sharp teeth. For some, he might have appeared threatening even. “...Yeah, it is. I heard that the drinks here are excellent, which is why they have so many regulars.” You stirred around in your glass, mixing the two colors.

“That’s right, you see, I consider myself a regular too.” Boothill chuckled, by the looks of it, he was quite proud of that title. “Oh right, name’s boothill, you can call me that. How ‘bout we drink a lil’ together?” He smirked, it was still a rather awkward smile. Though luckily you didn’t seem to mind. “Boothill huh? I’ve heard that name around, you are notorious for your misdeeds against the IPC.” You turned around to face him, returning his gesture by smiling as well.

At least he thinks you did, since he saw your face twitch. However, he couldn’t see it clearly due to the effects of the lighting. That was why you looked like a shadow from afar. The cyborg scoffed a bit, appearing amused by your words, “misdeeds you say? Cutie, my actions may not be innocent but I only do honest work.” A low chuckle reached his ears, followed by your response to his rather playful comment, “Of course, I understand. You galaxy rangers are brimming with righteousness after all.”

For some reason, your voice was as clear as day, despite the bustling noises emerging from the background. Many people were talking among themselves, so despite you not speaking especially loud, he still heard you perfectly. It was almost as if he filtered the other sounds out for yours only. At first glance, you seemed friendly, kind even. Yet there was this strange feeling surrounding you, he couldn’t get rid of the lingering suspicions. How did you know his occupation? Sure, his name was pretty infamous, though was it normal to know this much?

“…I guess the number on my bounty isn’t just for show.” He joked, before letting out some breathy laughs. Instead of paying attention to his words, you stared at his hand, each finger was out of metal. A artificial arm, or to be precise, a cyborg. Nothing you didn’t know. Suddenly you raised your finger, pointing in his direction. Boothill frowned a little, taken aback by it. “Your drink, it’s coming.” After a moment you explained, and he turned his head around.

Who would have guessed, you were right, the bartender was just putting down the liquor as he chirped, “One Asdana?” Before winking at the male and leaving the two of you alone. “Ah, yeah, that's for me.” The cowboy mumbled, about to take the old-fashioned glass when you stopped him. “Wait a second, I have something for you.” The moment your sentence ended, you began fumbling with your bag, apparently searching for something.

He was a bit irritated but listened to you anyway, taking his hand back. Waiting like this was a tiny bit annoying, but he put up with it. About a minute later, you were holding a shiny object in your hand. Without giving him any warnings, you dropped the said object into his drink. The beverage splashed against the glass due to the impact, only a single drop landed outside before the liquid calmed down.

Now, a bullet was slowly sinking to the bottom of the glass. Its color matched his drink, it had a golden gleam. “Holy forkeroni…” He gasped, this bullet, it was- “9 millimeters caliber, 147 grain, and the bottom's round as a pie. An eternal classical, am I right?” After explaining something obvious to him, you finally showed your face by leaning forward. The lightbulb brightened your features, exposing your identity to the cowboy. A daring move, a risky gamble with cards not everyone would have played. You stared right into his black pupils without a hint of fear, and his response to your boldness was as expected. “This information, you are...!” Immediately, the cyborg grabbed you by your collar and yelled, “Son of a nice lady- you are the one from that wanted poster! The fake galaxy ranger!” He shook his head, then demanded, “Fudge me… don’t fork around and answer, how do you know so much about me?” What a serious tone he had, he must be feeling threatened.

Your eyes darted down to his metallic hand, the same one you were eyeing up and down earlier was now clenching your shirt. Instead of taking him seriously, you were calm and collected, taking one step after another. Seeing you so relaxed, he felt a hint of anger building within him and used more force. It was almost enough to lift you off your seat. Gosh, look how much contempt he suddenly has for you when he was so nice to you mere moments ago.

“Please don’t cause a scene, sir boothill, I was only being nice by catering your drink to your taste. What's the problem?” You cooed at him like he was a child throwing a tantrum, playing the naive card. This playful tone of yours reminded him awfully of his own, yet at that moment it annoyed him. “You are dodging my question.” He stressed his words, furrowing his brows and tightening his grip. But he jerked a little when you clasped your hand over his, your touch was warm in comparison to his.

Then you spoke in a calm tone, “Shall we take this outside? There are many watching eyes here. I believe you wouldn’t want to get banned from your favorite bar.” The way you talked suggested you knew much more, a lot more than what he does about you. After all, you knew some private details about his preferences and hobbies. In conclusion, you must have been waiting for him here, at this very bar.

Boothill still hesitated for a moment, before eventually letting go of you. He clicked his tongue as if he regretted your meeting today. In truth, he wasn't in the mood for a fight, despite everything he came here to have fun. Your clothes were now wrinkled and slightly messy, disheveled would also be a fitting term, but you didn’t really bother with straightening them out, rather, you were amused by his hot temper. The boy thought about the situation and the problem he was facing. He couldn't read you at all, what a tough nut to crack.

It would be smart to sort out his thoughts, so first things first, he has to find out how you obtained all this information about him. What was your deal and reason? Then he should think about how to clean up this chaos in case it becomes messy. Even so, startling the other guests wouldn’t be good, that’s why he should contain himself for now. “Fine, lead the way, and don’t try to pull any funny business with me.” He clasped his arms in front of his chest, glaring at you with nothing but contempt. To be honest he looked like a cheeky cat instead of a dangerous lion.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of criminal~” You jest, grinning from ear to ear as you sipped at your cocktail. “Oh yeah? Why do you have quite the sum on your head then.” The cowboy countered your statement, squinting his eyes a little. To think you lost his trust this fast, he was a cautious fellow. “Haha, you hurt me. Don’t you have a bounty on your head as well? If so, why can’t I be righteous too?” He shuddered a little at your words, by the looks of it, you could also be a crazy stalker who invaded his privacy. Heck, he would almost bet on you knowing his head's value in and out.

At this point your voice alone was enough to scratch him the wrong way, you were really testing his patience. Boothill dismissed your statement with a groan, “Don’t compare us, I’m not a motherfudgin' fake ranger like you.” You blinked a few times at his words, before laughing out loud. He didn't like how you reacted. “Ahaha~ yes yes, of course, I’m the bad guy in your story, how did I forget this detail?” You blabbered, and he didn't really understand what you meant.

Then, without giving him any time to process what you said, you sprang up from your seat but made sure to take your cocktail with you. “Come now, cowboy. Take your drink with you, can’t leave that to waste right? Let’s continue drinking outside, like real drinking buddies.” That last sentence, he hasn't asked you yet, that means you guessed by his actions alone. Was it that obvious? It almost felt like you were taunting him or making fun of his previous idea of befriending you.

To save some of his pride, he decided to entertain your little chitchat. “Take it with me? I don’t think I’ll need that long to deal with the likes of you.” He sneered, a cheeky expression was plastered on his face now. You scanned him up and down a few times, then said, “If I can give you one advice: you’ll regret it if you don’t.” Shortly after, you walked out of the store, not giving a damn if he followed you or not. It was because you knew he wouldn’t let you escape so easily, and as you predicted, he followed you to the back of the bar. His footsteps were rather silent for a cyborg, he must not want to involve other guests.

The environment was filthy and dark, as well as out of the sight of innocent civilians. Perfect for an ambush or to have a private talk. You took another sip of your drink and complimented it, “Heavens, have I told you already? This tastes great. Wanna try some?” This sudden courtesy didn't seem fitting at all, considering he already lost all trust he had for you. His eyes pointed to your hand, the hand holding the glass in front of him. Instead of taking it, he clanked his own glass against yours, saying “No need, and cheers. Now that we are drinking, it’s time for you to start talking.” After finishing his speech, he drank his much-anticipated beverage.

This was what he missed, the sweet taste of paradise. No matter how he hated to admit it, the bullet you put in was just the stuff he needed. The faint taste of brass and gunpowder partnered up with the overwhelming sweetness of the malt juice was simply magnificent. “Ehem.. now,” He began, putting the drink onto the staircase next to him. It was the emergency staircase in case of a fire, yet it looked rusty as hell. Still, it won’t crash down because of one measly drink, will it?

This was something he had noticed for a while, somehow, he always found your gaze on his hands. The same applied here when he was putting his malt juice away. Was it worth being careful about? Boothill sighed, before continuing, “Tell me, what is your purpose? You were looking for me, weren’t ya?” Straight to the point, as expected of an ill-mannered cowboy like him, but you didn’t dislike it. “If I told you, this won’t be fun anymore. The villain always shares their plan when the hero is subdued.” You gurgled down the last bits of your ‘hangman’s blood’, then put the glass on the ground, unlike him. Would you look at that, who has no manners now?

Afterward, you walked up to the man, and his response to it was taking a few steps back. It wasn’t until his back hit the wall that the two of you stopped in your tracks. “Shirtbag… do you want to imitate a cartoon villain that bad?” He scoffed, crossing his arms once again. “Hehe, maybe.” You smiled at him providing him with a vague answer. Fork it, he was definitely going to wipe that insolent grin of yours from your face. “Anyway, before things escalate and you hit me, how about a quick introduction? My name is y/n.” The ranger didn’t look happy at all at your suggestion, and so he snapped, “I know, I saw on the poster. Can you stop wasting my free time now?”

“Whoa, easy there. And hey! Don’t pull your gun out!” You said and raised your hands as if to testify to your cooperation, then spouted “Well, I don’t know what information I own that could possibly satisfy you.” Now you were really wasting his time, chatting with no end in sight. Obviously, you were playing dumb with him. This caused Boothill to shout almost angrily, “Just tell me what business you have with me, fudgehead!” His rather funny way of talking didn't shock you, which means this was another piece of information you had access to beforehand. Who was feeding you with all that info?

He reached out for your collar again, but to his surprise, he couldn't move his arm anymore. “What the fork?!” His eyes turned to look up at you, his soft lips were parted due to disbelief. “Thankfully it worked~ otherwise I’d be cheese by now!” You joked, taking another step forwards him. “Holy wubabboo- is this your doing?” A confused expression spread on your face and you questioned, “Did what?” What the- what was happening, he couldn't comprehend this darned situation.

“How did you pull this off-? UrGhh!!” Out of nowhere, he dropped down to his knees, hovering and kneeling on the ground while sweating furiously. There was no strength left in his legs, or he lost control of his limbs somehow. On the outside he looked like a robot out of power, arms dangling next to him all lifeless. “Fudge! Tell me! What did you do?!” This has to be your doing, the timing is too perfect. You scanned his body again, smirking to yourself. "I had to prepare a lot for this, you know."

His ears perked at your confession, were you finally getting bored of that clueless act? Your face was barely visible since the alley wasn’t very bright, there was only one dimly lit street lamp around the corner. “You were easier to catch than I thought.” You then uttered. What the hell is this! That was supposed to be his line, so how did things end up this way? He is a motherfudging cyborg, what could you have possibly done to him?

The word confusion was basically written all over his face, he couldn’t even curse at you because he was so baffled, so perplexed about basically everything. Then, you raised your foot and stepped down on his shoulder. He turned his head to the side just to be faced with your shoe, the soles dirtied his cropped jacket.

“Get off me, you son of a nice fugin' lady.” Boothill gritted his teeth, trying to push you away. But the word in capital letter and underlined was 'trying', since he couldn’t move at all. He felt as helpless as the day he lost his home, unable to do anything but watch from the sidelines. “I like that feisty look in your eyes, cowboy.” You teased, those stinging words hurting his ego. Suddenly you leaned down, all so you could meet his gaze more easily.

Your hands reached for the glass of malt juice standing on the staircase and held it above his face. It shone in a golden light, almost akin to a disco ball. His eyes were glued to that glass, partly because he wondered what you planned to do. “Here, as I said before, this shouldn’t go to waste.” You told him and grabbed his chin. It happened so suddenly that he couldn’t react to it, not like he could have done anything in self-defense anyway. “Ugh, let go you mother- fuuHHMM!!”

When he opened his mouth to curse and to let out a shocked yelp, you forcefully poured the drink down his throat. It streamed down his oesophagus. You had to admit, he had good reflexes for reacting to this so quickly. Some of the liquid landed on his lips or cheeks, but he drank most of the juice. You watched the remains that weren't swallowed drip down his chin, soiling his clothes further and creating a darker spot on the fabric. It also covered his metallic chest in a golden shine, one could easily confuse it with oil.

The cyborg closed his eyes to avoid the liquor getting in places it shouldn’t, he choked a little since you were pouring so fast he couldn’t keep up with the swallowing. This didn’t stop until the glass was empty, even the bullet you gifted him earlier ended up in his mouth. He let it rest on his tongue for a while, before gulping it down as well. “Mmmh, guhh- cough cough!”

Boothill gasped, the bullet didn’t roll in as easily as the malt juice, it remained stuck in his throat. He had to cough a few times for it to slide down, after that he instantly complained, “Fu-fudge... why did you do that? I wanted to enjoy my drink slowly!” But he stopped mid-track when your familiar laugh echoed in his ears, and your fingertips stroked his chin. Shivers ran down his spine at your touch, he didn't know why.

“Dear ranger~ did your mommy not teach you not to take things from a stranger?” His eyes twitched and widened, you couldn’t really grasp the expression he pulled, though he looked devastated. It seems a light switch clicked inside his thick skull. Did you mess with his drink? Boothill just couldn't keep calm anymore at the realization, glaring at you with a nasty attitude. “Oh my, did I hit a sore spot there? You look like you want to kill me.” Yet his threatening, imposing body language didn’t scare you off, which is why you continued ridiculing him.

“I’ll ask you a last time, what the fork did you do to me?" Despite all these misfortunes, he didn't give up his insolent side, he was planning on giving you a hard time until the very end. Boothill was showing his sharp teeth once again, but this time he wasn’t smiling. “Are you familiar with Sulfuric acid?” You uttered, tapping his lips with your thumb. That word was foreign to him, was it something he would know? He wanted to bite down on his bottom lip, but you stopped him. This feeling, it was latex, you were wearing gloves.

“You see, it’s potent enough to melt metal.” The expression that followed after you enlightened him of its importance was simply amazing, you were curious about what he felt in that moment. Shock? Anger? Frustration? Maybe even self-hatred? “Then, how did you-” “Hey, I wasn’t done talking. Anyway, to answer your question, I hid it inside the bullet. Then I just had to wait for it to melt through the brass and voila, need me to say more?” What a talent you have for spouting such horrendous things with an innocent tone.

“Everything’s going according to your plan, huh, explaining everything when the hero’s subdued.” He repeated your words, then coughed again because his throat was burning. Actually, it hurt and itched. His face also felt like it was on fire, or to be precise, his skin did. It was so painful he had to clench his teeth to suppress the pain. You laughed under your breath, laughing at him, mocking him. “Right, if it’s potent enough to inflict wounds on a cyborg, then of course it irritates the skin as well.” Well, that should explain why his skin was hurting. “Now, boothill, may I give you another advice?”

Your hand caressed his cheeks as you asked him that, face only millimetres away from his. The way you touched him was surprisingly gentle, it made him sick. “What do you want.” He scorned, shaking his head to brush off your hand. “I’m sure you have extra protection around the more important components inside your system, though you should still get rid of the acid.” You looked unfazed when he avoided your touch, instead you closed the already nonexistent distance between you two and whispered into his ear.

The male looked mad, really damn angry. He yelled into your face, “Well fudge me I guess?! I can’t forking move my body!” That caught you off guard, you blinked a few times at his aggressive behavior. Don't get you wrong, it's not that you didn’t understand his point of view. On the contrary, it's good to see him still so energetic. “Ah~ my bad, I didn’t think the acid would break your control Center first. Why is it located right next to your stomach anyway?” You admitted, scratching your head a little.

This was so easy that it was almost boring, you expected him to put up more of a fight. But you can't blame him when he's basically a cripple right now. “In other words, I’m fudged? Fork this, dying so dishonorable tsk tsk.” Boothill snarled, rolling his eyes, he didn’t consider himself a living man before, but now he was dead-dead if you knew what he meant.

You glanced at his face, he was sweating and his complexion didn’t look all that good. He acted as if he didn't mind it, but he was hanging onto life so dearly it almost moved you. In the end, you proposed in a tender tone, “Want me to help you?” The ranger was still glaring at you, though his gaze bore more skeptic than fury. “You caused this first- fine, I don’t have any choice but to accept do I?”

No matter how he despised you, he can't carry out revenge when he's dead. It's not that he trusted you to 'save' him, but rather, this is his last resort. As soon as he finished his sentence, you yanked on his chin to make him look up at you. The tips of his hair were wet due to the alcohol, and his skin also reddened due to the acid. Your thumb pressed on his bottom lip, almost pulling at it. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks at the intimate touch. Adorable.

When he parted his lips a little, you took that opportunity to stuff your index and middle finger into his mouth. “What- Mhm..!?” The male groaned, finding himself in a pretty bizarre situation. God how embarrassing, he was falling into a shameful abyss he couldn't crawl out anymore. Truth be told, he had a pretty accurate guess on what you wanted to do, though he really didn’t want to actually carry it out. Was this the only way?

You stuck your digits deeper inside, already at the second knuckle, causing him to flinch and twitch. His eyes were tightly shut, brows furrowed while a growing blush covered his features. Damn it, this is worse than any nightmares, this feels the worst. So what was this bubbling and tingly sensation he felt? It was messing with him, causing him to shudder. He could feel your fingers pressing down on his tongue, as well as you trying to not cut yourself on his teeth. This was weird, it was so strange, why was he getting lightheaded?

“Don’t act so surprised now, I’m helping you as you wanted.” After watching his helpless face for a while, you commented on it, obviously not planning on stopping the teasing anytime soon. It seems you caught on to the growing tension between the two of you, so you chuckled, “Hey... what’s this I'm seeing? Why is your face getting red?” His once half-lidded eyes were yanked wide open at the thought that he got exposed.

Don't tell him he was enjoying this perverted act. “Hmm! Sho-shou ap..!” Boothill tried to speak despite the difficulties, feeling your digits reaching deeper and deeper. With each poke, the tingly feeling also increased. Was this perhaps what they called sexual pleasure? If so, why did he have to experience it for the first time at your hands?

A few seconds later, you were knuckles-deep inside him, fingertips already rubbing the walls of his throat. It was wet and hot in his mouth, and his face seemed to be gradually heating as well. That process was speeding up quite rapidly. His cheeks quickly turned red, a foggy blush tainting the skin. He was blushing so much just from sucking on your fingers a little? You simply couldn’t miss out on ridiculing him yet again, purring into his ear once more, “Does this turn you on? How cute.”

His pupils shrank at your comment, probably at the disbelief that you’d say something this audacious. Him? Turned on by you? What a joke- this can’t be real. He was just having a hard time breathing, and that’s why he was getting red. Really. Though deep down, he knew he couldn't sugarcoat it, the truth will always be the truth, no matter how he denies its existence. “MhMm, guhNn, hmm-nggHh..!” The cowboy tried to argue with you, though his protests were muffled by you, only inaudible noises could be made out.

There were also sneaky moans mixed among his protests or little gasps. The vibrations of his voice tickled your skin, it felt pretty funny actually. “What was that? I can't understand you~” You admitted cheerfully, watching the emotion on his face rotate from shock, and anger to frustration. What a shameless person you were, and not to forget heartless.

Then you pressed down on his wet muscle once again, and he gagged around you. “Ughhh..!” That one single gag soon turned into a series of chokes, and tears began collecting in his eye sockets. So he still had his gag reflex, excellent, it was exactly what you needed. More coughs and chokes continuously spilled from the male while you mercilessly ravished his throat.

He could feel you poking his throat so deep it almost hurt, yet that wasn't the only thing he felt. No. Far from it, his body was burning up from the inside, though it was a different kind of heat than the effects of the acid. His mind felt so foggy and weakened, was it alright for him to let his guard down in times like this? When he still hasn't discovered your purpose? But he couldn't hang on anymore, it was as if his brain was melting. Never ever was it this challenging for him to hang on to his reason and logic, to what makes him human.

"Dahmmmm it..! S-stouu! GuhHGG..!!" He choked again, but this time, it felt like something was coming out... no, it was- "hmHHh, fooouukk!! Ugh-guUH!" This familiar sensation and taste, he couldn't move his tongue but he could still taste it faintly. Not to mention the burdensome smell, this familiar smell that stayed around his nostrils. The Asdana he just gurgled down was coming up again, he was on the verge of vomiting. It was as if his body rejected the drink, and he couldn't stop gagging.

At least his insides won't get messed up any longer, that must be the only positive thing in all this. Even so, to do something that shameful in front of you, damn it, he wants to spit at you if he could. You noticed how his throat tightened, or how his Adam's apple moved around. With that, you took your fingers out as fast as how you stuck them inside him. Strings of saliva connected your fingertips with his mouth, and his tongue hung outside for a while. "Ugh, fu-gUhg, UhmM!!"

Right afterward, he puked on the ground, head hanging low while more gaging sounds left him. His pupils shrunk as the contents spilled onto the filthy ground. Those embarrassing noises didn't cease until he choked up the bullet he had previously swallowed. Then, he whimpered at the taste, it had become sour now due to the chemical. "There you go, you should be fixed now." You reported, but he couldn't bring himself to be joyful about it.

Rather, he was sweating furiously, eyes widened and almost dried up. If he could cry, he definitely would have. Oh how thankful he was in that moment that he physically couldn't sob. He wouldn't have been able to live with the shame of breaking down in tears and weeping in front of you. "Uhhhhg, da-mHnn it... fu-uGGhh!!" The taste of the alcohol wasn't as pleasant as before, probably due to it getting corrupted by the acid you mentioned. Such a waste, and to think it landed on the floor now. A place like that wasn't worth a drink this exquisite.

His eyelids and brows twitched, and now that he was done, he clenched his teeth again and insulted you, "You muddlefudger..." That rebellious look in his gaze didn't vanish, he glared at you once more. You were almost impressed if you didn't notice a small glimmer of falter within his tough facade. Despite it being a normal bodily reaction, he seems to be holding it against you. "And here I thought I helped you out, how ungrateful." You clicked your tongue, and his face became redder. Was it because of the humiliation or anger?

Your shoe was still on his shoulder, pressing down on him, reminding him of his vulnerable position. The Cowboy snapped at you, spitting through gritted teeth, "What do ya' got planned now?" You took off your gloves, they were covered in his saliva. Then you revealed, "I'm not sure." He only got more annoyed by that nonchalant answer and demanded, "If you're going to kill me make it quick." Weirdly enough, your eyes glimmered, as if you were inspired by his suggestion. "If that's what you want, I don't mind it." You smirked, patting his head, stroking his long hair as your other hand sneakily pulled out the gun around his waist.

He almost lost himself in that small gesture of comfort you gave him, if it wasn't for him seeing you with his gun in your hand. "Hah.. with my own weapon? Fudge, you want to humiliate me to the end huh." How resentful he sounded, you almost pitied this guy. "Maybe I do." After saying that irritatingly proud, you pressed his revolver against his forehead, pushing his bangs to the side. "But this is a little boring, don't you think?"

As if you were truly interested in his opinion, he found it quite difficult to believe that. "Why do you ask me?" Boothill gnarled, but to his surprise, you moved the revolver away. Instead, the barrel was pressed flat against his chest, the muzzle facing his chin. "What are you..?" The male mumbled, twisting his expression at this damned play you organized for him. For you, all this must be a game, a stage you laid out for him, where he was a mindless puppet playing right into your hand.

He thought he couldn't be surprised anymore, yet your actions kept going beyond anything he could ever imagine. You moved the revolver upwards so that the muzzle was touching the underside of his chin. At the same time, the gun was going underneath his short jacket. "Y-you..!" The cyborg couldn't help but blush a little. His face was hot, overheating even compared to the cold weapon you held in your hands. "Do you still want to die? If you beg, I might spar you?" Your tone didn't sound that serious, it was almost said in a joking manner.

“Fork you, never." Boothill snarled again, acting disobedient even though his life was at stake. He had a strong spirit since he was still so cocky after all the things he went through. You wiped off the smile from your face, now staring down at him with a cold-blooded expression, "I'll count down from three then. Three..." Wha- no, this can't be the end, he still has to find Oswaldo. His artificial heart pounded against his chest, causing his mind to fall into chaos. "Two."

You were so cruel, counting down like this without remorse, a fudging monster! Adrenaline was being pumped through his body, or should he rather say every wire he owned? "One-" Without thinking, since he lost that privilege the moment you began counting, he yelled as fast as he could and closed his eyes, "Fudge! Fine! If m'gonna die lemme at least curse at you! You- er, muddlefudging clocksucker!!" Right now, he kind of wished he could cry, just to let out some steam. You couldn't help but giggle, before uttering the word, "Zero." Suddenly, he blanked out.

For a split second, time appeared to have stopped. What followed after was a loud, ear-splitting sound that echoed through the alley. To be expected, it definitely alarmed other people. Then, absolute silence emerged. Not even the faint music from the bar could be heard anymore. "Ah... hu-huh..?" "Oh? Seems like your gun wasn't loaded!" You giggled, you knew this from the start, didn't you? Pants along with a few choked-out whines escaped him. Shivers traveled through him and electricity was being sent to his brain, stimulating the euphoric parts.

A moment later, a slap sound reached his ears, and a sting that felt strangely pleasant originated from his cheek. His face turned to the side, and his cheek throbbed. "uh-urghh..! Ah, wha-what?" Did you just... slap him? Boothill groaned, shaking a little as drool rolled down his chin because his mouth remained open for too long. His spit also defiled the gun, wetting the revolver. Then, the unimaginable happened, and he let out an unrestrained moan, "ahhhHHHNngg..!?" It was high-pitched and whorish, he wore such a confused but slutty expression that it surprised both of you.

Reality crushed down on him too hard, and he couldn't help but gasp and whimper underneath his ragged inhales. "Ugh..ngh- wha-what's this fe-feeling..? W-why.. ha-hmnHg..♡♥︎?" Oh dear, this is not what you think just happened, right? "Boothill, did you just cum?" You said his name after a long while, and he groaned again, "guHhh... s-stop, that's nonsense! How can I e-even.. I-" The boy stumbled over his words, stuttering as a deep blush was painted over his entire face. He was such a twitchy mess now, totally different than his previous self.

“Are you a masochist?” You asked him randomly, it was so out of pocket that it killed the mood. "...are you crazy?" Boothill replied with scorn, his pride was pretty hurt by that statement. As if to test your speculation, you grabbed the back of his hair and yanked on it, making him yelp. "Arghh..! L-let go- fudge!" Then you squeezed his cheeks and stuck out your tongue. He stared at you hesitantly, his own tongue also hanging outside. Mere moments later, your spit was dripping down and landing in his mouth.

That action rendered him speechless, causing him to freeze. Your saliva tasted a little like alcohol. Darn it, this was so disgusting. Once you were done, you let go of the cowboy again, before teasing him, "I was right, you are a masochistic dog~" You knew because of his flushed cheeks, they became redder at your lewd antics. "Are you satisfied now? The fork do you want from me?!" Boothill scoffed, he could only bear this much until his breaking point. "What do I want?" You repeated his sentence, and put a finger on your chin as if you were thinking hard about something.

In the meantime, boothill impatiently waited, he desperately wanted to know your intentions, to see if it justified your actions. When you moved your finger away, you grinned before responding, "I think the answer is you." "...huh?" The cyborg was stunned, staring up at you with spirals in his pupils as you suddenly embraced him. "You heard me, boothill." Your voice and your hug were so warm, he didn't know you could be this gentle.

No, this was no good, it was troubling, to say the least. "Y/n? You- shirt, what do you mean?" For the first time, you heard your name come out of his mouth. His voice trembled as he voiced out your name, the way he said it had a nice ring to it. Then he glared at you once again, but this time he looked like a small animal, eyes glistening while a heavy blush formed on his face. Wait, why was he even blushing? Maybe, because he was wanted for the first time after centuries?

"I hate you." He said after returning to his senses, he got caught up in his emotions there for a moment. These little bits of comfort aren't enough to make up for the mess you caused, and he didn't feel the same. On the other hand, you couldn't stop smirking, and he knew by the looks of it that it wasn't an innocent smile by length. "Let's get out of here, I'll help you move." You then told him and helped him get up, pulling him by his arms.

This was immediately met with angry protests from the male, "Don't touch me- hey, ugh! Where the fudge are you taking me?" The second he let his guard down, you stuffed your gloves into his mouth to muffle his voice, "hMHh?! MmhhGFFF!!!" After that, to satisfy his curiosity, you whispered quietly, "To a place where I can have you."

"Finally, the guards are here." One of the guests said, to which another one answered, "Thank god because no one dared to go see what was going on." Maybe people we in disarray due to the mysterious sound they all heard. It was probably a gunshot, which means, someone might have died. Yet no one dared to go into the alley, out of fear that they might be the next victim. After the guards arrived, a rather large group of people followed them and ran over to the scene.

They all wanted to know what that gunshot was, standing on the sidelines and observing the investigation. 'What the hell happened here?!' Everyone wondered, eyes searching around for evidence. The only hints they found were two glasses standing on the staircase with some credits, as well as a pool of what seems to be malt juice lying on the ground along with a single golden bullet in the midst of it.

The guard in charge of this operation reached out for the bullet and said, "...someone must have been shot." Then he eyed the bullet up and down, in hopes of finding more clues. That's when he noticed a weird detail, "Why are there holes in the bullet?"

Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant 2.0:

Based on my findings, concentrated sulfuric acid can melt many metals, like aluminium, iron and steel. (Boothill isn’t safe hehe) It’s enough if it’s moderately concentrated, so it’s alright if a bit of water mixes into it as well. It also reacts to brass - the copper aspect of it, I dunno if it reacts to zink as well. Some sources say yes, some denied it.

Anyway, the Formular for the melting process or chemical reaction would be: Cu + h2So4 -> CuSo4 + h2 or Fe + h2So4 -> FeSo4 h2

So it also creates hydrogen gas at the same time, which also melts iron and is poison for the human body. Annnnd copper Sulfid, which is weak and easily breakable, that means it can weaken the brass.

My plan to poison him: his favourite drink is malt juice with a 9mm calliber bullet that’s out of brass. And malt juice is out of ca. 25-30% water. So, I was thinking of drilling a hole into the bottom of the bullet and use a needle to shoot concentrated sulfuric acid inside the capsule. Then drop that in the malt juice. Now we just gotta wait for the acid to melt through the bullet, and mix with the water of the alcohol, then it’d become moderately concentrated. Btw sulfuric acid can absorb water from everywhere, even from the air.

Then if he drinks it, bam, his insides will melt. It might take a bit, so we gotta entertain him and stretch out the time. Even if he doesn’t drink it, he eats bullets, so he’ll get the acid inside his body anyway. With that, we successfully ‘poisoned’ him. It takes a bit of fantasy but oh well.

Now, take this hangman’s blood recipe:

- 1¾ parts gin.

- 1¾ parts white rum.

- 1¾ parts whiskey.

- 1¾ parts brandy.

- 7½ parts stout beer.

- 6 parts champagne.

370 notes · View notes

highprettybabyy · 9 days ago

Text

Guilty as sin?

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: nat saves you from an asshole, you thank her by cooking dinner, smut ✨

Warnings: 18+, vomiting, violence, toxic man, sex, masturbation, caught masturbating, fingering, cunnilingus, nat's topping, writing in cum?

AN: i love Guilty as Sin? from TTPD, one of my favs 100%. also i saw someone on tiktok saying that they couldn't waterboard that information out of them that blondie's just confessing in her songs lmao. fkn love her ovulation songs hahaha, anyways plz enjoy.

word count: 4.7k

--//--

The gym was more crowded than usual, a lot of new agents having passed the first level of recruitment, which meant more people in the regular gym. Besides the ‘normal’ gym, there was a specialty gym that was more equipped for super humans in the basement, but you and a few others don’t like the atmosphere and prefer the natural sunlight this gym offers. Hence why one of the cocky new recruits was constantly pestering you.

“You should actually pull your shoulders back more.” He remarked, snide grin on his face as he let his weight fall against the machine you were using. “I think I’m fine, thanks” You muttered out. You wished he’d leave you alone, not in the mood to deal with shit like this today, but he was like a cockroach that wouldn’t leave you be. It’s actually baffling how this guy is still trying to make conversation, your giant noise-cancelling headphones not making it obvious apparently that you wanted to be left alone.

You huffed out in annoyance as he kept on criticising you, disguised as helpful commentary, followed by ‘flirty’ remarks that made you want to barf. He thought he was being slick, the way he kept on looking back to his friends by the weights station, then back to you with a revolting smile on his face. For a second you thought maybe he just wanted to use your equipment, so you grabbed your towel and water before leaving to the leg press. But he had just had to continue his boring, self-inflating, one-sided conversation about how he was top of the program, and that he’d be glad to show you “how it’s really done”.

After 15 minutes of his presence, Natasha walked in, and somehow time stood still as your soul felt the redhead walk in, eyes instantly connecting. You smiled for the first time that day, the mere sight of the redhead calming every tense nerve in your body. Her firm gaze softened upon meeting yours, to most people her expression looked unmoved but you knew she had a little soft spot for you. She nodded slightly in greeting before moving to the treadmills by the entrance of the gym.

The guy still hadn’t taken the hint. “You’ve gotta place your feet closer together actua-“ “Hey, dude I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to work out in peace here, if you don’t mind?” You kept calm as you removed your headphones to directly speak to him, offering a curt smile to try to not upset him too much. He didn’t seem to like that too much, raising his voice as he told you that he was just trying to help and make conversation. You frowned at that, stating that a conversation is between two people and that he’s been talking uninterrupted for the last 20 minutes.

Natasha took notice of the slight change in her surroundings as a lot of people became uncomfortable from his behaviour. She shut off the treadmill and walked over to investigate where the noise came from. “Whatever bitch, you’re just jealous that I’m fucking better than you, you were probably one of the last in the recruitment program anyway.” He spat. Before you could retort a very angry Natasha Romanoff stood in between you, staring him down.

He shrank slightly under her piercing gaze as she crossed her arms, but he still wasn’t backing down completely. “What do you want?” He scoffed, pretending as if he wasn’t about to wet himself. “Your name and recruitment ID.” She simply stated, posture unwavering. “I’m not telling you that.” “Oh well ok then, how about we spar for it?” She asked, head tilting slightly. He barked out a laugh “Hah, I don’t fight women.” You decided to jump in, you couldn’t wait to see Nat pound this guy into the floor. (although you wished that she pounded you into the floor instead, wink, wink)

“Aww, someone’s scared.” You pouted, hoping to rile this unrightfully smug guy up. “I’m not fucking scared of some chick! Alright then, fucking bring it on!”

The boxing ring quickly cleared out seeing the Black Widow and some temperamental 6’3”toddler approach, with you skipping just a few steps behind them. They each took their position across each other before the referee signalled they could start. The douchebag immediately went for the offense, Natasha effortlessly dodging everything he threw. Only futile efforts were made from his part. You could see the desperation in his fighting, using illegal techniques and effectively making the ref yell at him. You’re honestly surprised that Natasha hadn’t beaten him to a pulp yet, you would’ve knocked him out before the sound of the whistle could register in his head. But Natasha is a paradox, and she has her reasons.

He huffed loudly, frustrated under the watchful eyes of his buddies, who started laughing at his antics. “Come on, you dodgy bitch!” Echoed through the room, followed swiftly by a loud smack and thud. Natasha bent down to pull his ID from his vest pocket. “Tyler West, 1109.” She dropped the card on his face while he was still down, before hopping out of the ring.

“Why did you take so long, Nat, he could have been out since the starting whistle?” You joked, a large smile covering your face, while you collected your things to leave. “Now where’s the fun in that, Y/N?” She retorted. “No, but seriously thank you, I was this close-“ you accentuated by basically pressing your fingers together “to losing my shit completely.”

The rasp in her voice was audibly heard as she chuckled. “Anytime, Y/N.” God- that voice. You smiled up at her as her woodsy perfume entered your airways, effectively paralysing you. Piercing emerald eyes looked down at you. Your tongue unconsciously darted out to wet your lips, an action not unnoticed by the redhead in front of you. “I’ll make sure he gets fired for his behaviour, he shouldn’t even have passed the recruitment test with how shitty he was acting.” You looked down as Natasha still felt traces of anger flowing through her, but the touch of your hesitant hand grabbing hers calmed her down quickly.

“How about I cook you dinner tonight as a thank you?” You fiddled with her hand a bit before looking up again hopefully. Natasha’s lips quirked up, before nodding and stating that that would be lovely. You smiled again, a very tender moment that was rudely interrupted by West throwing up from the concussion. Your smile turned into a look of disgust. “I’m going to go now. I’ll see you tonight.”

As you were preparing dinner for you and Natasha, Wanda walked into the kitchen. “Hmmm, smells nice detka. What are you making?” You greeted the witch with a smile. “Some slow braised pork belly for ramen.” Wanda raised her eyebrows, “Wow, what’s the occasion?” You looked down with a blush spreading quickly to your cheeks as you thought about the earlier events. “Well, Nat helped me with something earlier today, so I’m cooking dinner to thank her.” Wanda grinned.

“So you’re finally confessing??” She exclaimed with joy. “NO.” You glared jokingly at your best friend, making her burst out in laughter. She is.. aware of your feelings for Natasha, to say the least. “Come on, how long are you planning to wait until you’re going to express your longings to her?” This time you laughed, “HAH, I’m keeping these longings locked inside a vault. For evermore.” Scoffingly crossing your arms to accentuate your point. Wanda rolled her eyes lightly before you spoke up again after tasting your broth. “Plus she doesn’t even like me how I like her.”

Wanda’s hand smacked against her face in frustration. “Y/N omg just ask her.” You took another spoon and dipped it in the broth, softly blowing on it to cool it down before handing it to the annoyed witch. “No.” You said as she sipped the contents of the spoon. “Damn, that’s good.” You smiled in victory as you stirred the pot again. “How did she help you to deserve such a delicatesse? I’m doing that next time.”

“She euhm- there was this shitty guy bothering me at the gym, and she knocked him out.” Wanda stared at you wide-eyed, thinking of taking you to a specialist ophthalmologist because you must be fucking blind to not see all the signs. “Oh, and she’s getting him fired.” You pulled your lips in a tight smile as you waited for Wanda to react. She turned around and left the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to say “Only your actions talk.” before walking off.

You had about 30 minutes until dinner, having agreed to eat at 7. Ok, ok. Pork belly is resting. Bowls are preheating. Soy marinated eggs are in the fridge. Chili oil is cooling down. Scallion: sliced. Yellow chili: sliced. Tiny bakchoi: prepped. Broth is simmering. Bean sprouts… are bean sprouting.. I feel like I’m forgetting something..

You looked around, everything was clean, you had a candle going on the table and everything except the bowls was already laid out. You looked down and saw the mess on your clothes.

CLOTHES! O M G. Ok shit what am I going to wear, what is she going to wear? Omfg how much time do I have left. I look like shit. ‘She’s going to laugh at me - Jezus she’s not going to laugh at you, it’s Nat. – Yes she is, who wouldn’t? look at me? There’s soy sauce on my pants! – Let’s fucking change first before she gets here! –‘

“Oh my god Y/N if you don’t stop fucking spiralling I’m going to hurt you.” Wanda called out in a sing song voice. You looked at her, a bit in shock, before realisation struck over you and you gave her a cheeky smile. “Sorry, I didn’t realise.” She grabbed your hand and pulled you towards your room.

After rummaging through your closet for a few minutes, you hadn’t found anything that felt right to wear. You were getting frustrated and you felt like throwing yourself to the ocean rocks. “Wait here.” Wanda ordered you as she walked out the door. She returned a few minutes later, with a stunning flowy green dress. “Oh Wanda you absolute angel! This is gorgeous, where did you get this?” You thanked her furiously, kissing her cheek until she pulled away in annoyance. “I had it laying in my closet, I was going to wear it on a date with an ex of mine, but we broke up before I could wear it so.” She explained.

“Oh, are you sure I can wear it? I can find something else?” You hesitated, trying to hand the dress back to Wanda. “Of course it’s alright, I can use this in my maid of honour speech when you guys get married.” She laughed as you rolled your eyes, thanking her again. She wished you good luck, leaving you to get changed and finish your look.

You finished in the nick of time, rushing back to the kitchen were you bumped into someone. Yeah, it was Natasha. “Woah there.” She held you upright as you almost fell. “Omg hi Nat, I’m sorry for crashing into you.” You finally were able to take a good look at each other. Natasha wore a tight black button-up and black suit pants and again her scent invaded your nose stronger than ever. You took a shaky breath, heavily affected by the sight and smell of her.

You failed the way Natasha’s eyes raked over you. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” Your gaze snapped up to hers. “I- well, I- Thanks Natty.”

You took the bowls out of the oven with oven mitts, carefully plating the ramen noodles, everything (culinary wise) was running smoothly. You ushered a curious Natasha to the table, wanting to surprise her with the presentation. It looked beautiful when you brought it to the table, placing it delicately in front of the redhead, then placing your bowl down. You took off the oven mitts and tossed them on the counter before sitting down to see Natasha entranced by the sight. “Y/N… this looks, and smells, so fucking good.” She groaned out in a deep and husky voice. Your mouth dropped open at her tone, it sent shivers down your spines and through your bones.

“Thank you so much, Y/N, you really didn’t have to.” She looked at you softly, entranced by the way the candle flickered in your y/e/c eyes. The window behind you was cracked open, letting in a soft early spring breeze that caused the occasional shiver to run over your arms. You nervously bit at your nail as you waited for Natasha’s reaction. She softly smiled as she lifted her chopsticks to her mouth.

Strangely this was the first time Natasha was tasting something that you cooked. She usually orders something, or Wanda brings her something, or Tony orders catering, stuff like that. But after tasting the ramen, she moaned.

Your face flushed quickly, so did hers after realising what she’d just let escape. She coughed nervously, “Wow, this is good.” You didn't dare look into her eyes as you thanked her, trying to hide your obvious blush from the watchful spy in front of you.

After you finished dinner you were saying your goodbyes. Natasha leaned down to kiss your cheek. “I hope I get the chance more often to taste your cooking.” You smiled and retorted “I’m sure that can be arranged.”

You talked for a few more minutes before saying good night to each other and going your separate ways, even though your rooms are next to each other. But Natasha had to go check on something in Tony’s office before she could call it a night.

You were laying on your bed, half naked. You took off the dress and your shoes after the ‘date’ and tried to cool off on your bed in just your bra and underwear. You dragged your hands over your face. But every time you closed your eyes, the image of Natasha in that tight shirt haunted you. This triggered a train of thoughts. Natasha in tight clothing, Natasha working out and sweating, Natasha taking a protective stance in front of you, Natasha’s gaze earlier. You must be seeing visions.

I’m going mad.

Every frame in your head made you hotter and hotter.

Natasha crashed through the door, her wild gaze found you and in only a few long strides she reached you, cupping your face before devouring you. Her hands gripped your waist possessively, roaming towards your back as you melted into her grasp. You let out an soft moan as her tongue explored your mouth. Your actions turned fast and desperate, messy top lip kisses as the sounds reverberated through the dimly lit room.

“Please.” You sighed out as Natasha moved her lips to mark your neck. She moved you backwards until your knees hit the bed. You fell and dragged Natasha on top of you. Her weight pressing you into the mattress was comforting and she pressed you further down as she devoured you. Her hand came up to grip your jaw, keeping you in place as she explored your mouth. Pulling delicious sounds out of you with every action.

Your hand travelled south, slipping underneath the fabric of your underwear as your eyes were forcibly shut close, trying to visualise the scenario in your head. “Oh, Nat-“ Your other hand gripped your jaw, like the way Natasha did in your fantasy.

“Please Natty-“ You pleaded, finally opening your eyes to look at her. Her eyes were hooded as she took the sight of you in. “What baby, ask nicely.” She said, mouthing at your exposed collar bone. “Please, take me.” She groaned against as soon as your words registered in her head. “Yeah? Want me to take you? Make you feel good?” You nodded desperately, pulling her face back in to kiss her. A high whine leaving your throat.

Her hand quickly pulled your underwear down, her face following quickly, placing open-mouthed kisses on every patch of naked skin she could reach. She wrapped her hands around your thighs, locking you in place before dragging her tongue through your sopping wet folds.

“OH, Oh – Oh my god Nat. Please- please” You were whimpering out, your fingers collecting your arousal before rubbing it on your clit teasingly.

“You taste so good baby.” Natasha husked out. She was building you up so slowly, but so strongly. It was like she knew your body better than you did. Your breathing became laboured, seemingly struggling to handle the way she was building you up to something that would feel like a supernova exploding through you. The redhead noticed of course, pulling away to place a kiss against on your hip. “Breathe for me, gorgeous.” She said as she inserted a finger into you. It’s like she wanted you to fail.

You gasped, one hand grabbing at her forearm as the other held the sheets in a white-knuckle grip. A tear slipped down from your eyes and into your ears. She felt so fucking good. “God you’re gripping me so tight, malysh, all for me.” You whined as she inserted another finger into you, slowly thrusting in and out of you. “Yours.”

The sight of you made her feral, your chest quickly rising and falling as she pulled so many delicious sounds and gasps from you. It came to a point where her tempo became unrelenting as all you could do was lay there and take everything she gave you. The sloshing sounds reverberated through the room and the atmosphere reeked of sex.

She moved up so she could kiss you again, missing the feeling of your lips against hers. You could hardly kiss her back, overwhelmed by the feeling of her skin against yours and her fingers unravelling you. “Hmm you’re almost there aren’t you? You wanna cum princess? You wanna cum for me?” She moaned against your neck, licking a stripe up to your jaw and then behind your ear before biting the sensitive skin there, which is what brought you over the edge. You shook against her, waves of pleasure crashing over you. It felt surreal, like your spirit left your body for a brief second. You thought this was the perfect way to die.

“OH NATASHA!“ You screamed out in pleasure. Fingers rubbing tight circles over your sensitive nub. You were convulsing, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. Your chest was heaving as you rubbed your non-occupied hand across your body, hoping it would calm you down enough to remove the black spots from your vision. You felt hot, the sheets underneath you feeling like they’re on fire.

She pulled her fingers slowly out of you, so you wouldn’t be shocked into the empty feeling. While making hard eye contact she took her cum-covered index finger to write ‘mine’ on your upper thigh, before moving her fingers up to her face to suck them clean.

“Y/N, are your okay??” Natasha called out as she burst through the door. She wasn’t expecting the sight in front of her. You sprawled across your bed, hand in your panties, sweaty and panting. Your eyes shot open in terror. Natasha quickly realising her misstep as she made eye contact with you. You quickly covered up with a blanket that was laying beside you.

“Nat, omg, hi- what-“ You stuttered out, you don’t think you can play this off anymore. “Y/N, I’m so sorry but I thought I heard you calling my name..?” She looked at you apologetically. The blood rushed into your cheeks, tinting them maroon. “I- euhm, well-“ You stammered. Natasha being the professionally trained spy that she is, quickly put two and two together after her initial chock.

“Oh, you were calling my name then?” She crossed her arms and kicked the door shut, suddenly a lot more confident that you might return her feelings. You were sure that the amount of blood that rushed to your face was harmful. “This is an interesting predicament I have found you in, malyshka.. Screaming my name? With your fingers buried in that pretty pussy? Hmm?”

She inched closer to you as you didn’t seem to object. “Were you thinking of me?” Natasha asked. You saw the way her eyes were looking at you now, pupils dilated so much that her irises looked black. The way her mouth hung open slightly as she took you in. Maybe Wanda was right, maybe Natasha did like you. You didn’t want to leave her hanging any further, insecurity slowly creeping up the redhead’s spine, thinking she might’ve been dreaming that her affections were mutual.

You nodded slowly, and the spy beamed. “Yeah? You were? – Use your words, baby.” She asked as you started nodding again. “Yeah, I-I was..” You turned very shy, forcefully closing your eyes and gripping the blanket that barely covered you until your knuckles turned white. “Hmm, and what was I doing?”

“Y-you were touching me.. making me feel good..” She was standing next to you now, eyes looking down at you with an indescribable look of hunger. You looked up at her, and the aura in the room turned hot. “And how was I doing that exactly, sweetheart?” She asked as she sat down next to you, the blanket falling of your body slightly, exposing new skin that Natasha can admire.

If you were reading the signs wrong, you were going into the Canadian woods to throw yourself to the wolves.

“Like this.” You grabbed her hand with the one that you used to get off mere minutes ago, fingers still sticky from your arousal, and manoeuvred it inside your panties, before taking two of her fingers and sliding them against you.

Natasha looked absolutely and desperately feral now, swallowing the large lump in her throat to try and ground herself. She moaned as she took over control, rubbing her fingers up and down your slippery folds. You removed your hand as Natasha continued her administrations, using your other hand to grab hers to intertwine your fingers. “Y/N, baby, this wet from only thinking about me?”

You let out a whine while nodding, “Please.” You don’t know what you were begging for, your mind was already partially gone from your first orgasm, Natasha could take the reins. Maybe that’s why you were begging, begging for her to take control.

She brought your hand up, kissing each knuckle before pulling both of her hands away. You whined and shook your head. “N-No please don’t leave me, please I need you, I love you. I can’t-“ “Hey, hey, I’m not going anywhere. Y/N” Natasha interrupted you before it hit her. “Y-you love me?” There were tears in your eyes, suddenly overcome with emotions as you nodded again. You mistook her momentary silence as rejection as you started pulling your knees up to your chest, but they were forced down again as Natasha leaped against you, kissing you hard.

Rivulets kept streaming from your eyes as you kissed, fusing Natasha’s delicious taste with the saltiness from your tears. She eventually pulled away, breathing short and heavy. “I love you too, Y/N.” Your lips turned upwards and the sad tears turned into happy ones as you professed your love again. She pulled you in again, embracing you in her strong arms, as she placed gentle kisses to the side of your face.

You grabbed her jaw to move her lips to yours again. She immediately deepened the kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth greedily. She manoeuvred herself so she could lay between your legs, which wrapped around her waist. Natasha could feel the heat radiating from your core and she had never been turned on this much.

“Let me show you how much I love you.” She sighed out against your lips, her hand travelling south again to pull your underwear off. She nipped your collarbone as she shoved your underwear in her pocket, before slipping her fingers between your folds again.

“Oh, Nat.” You breathed out, and you felt her smile against you. She lowered her mouth to your breasts, which were still covered by your bra. This didn’t seem to bother her, as she simply dragged it down to free your breasts, instantly wrapping her lips around your hardening nipples. “Oh, oh, Natty, oh.” You were a whining, blabbering mess. Natasha unravelling you so delicately.

Just as she used her teeth to graze your nipple, she inserted two fingers into you. You gasped loudly, reaching down to grab Natasha’s back harshly with your nails. Even though she’s still fully clothed, she hissed from the sudden sting. You were clawing at her, the urge to feel her skin overwhelming but you couldn’t find the words, instead letting out desperate whines, in hope she’d understand.

Luckily for you, she did, and she took off her jacket and shirt, leaving your hands free to roam her skin. She kissed you briefly again before finally travelling down to taste you. She laid between your legs, grabbing a pillow and signalling you to lift your hips. She placed the pillow underneath you and grabbed your thighs to pull you down.

She sighed contently, placing a delicate kiss above your mound, followed by biting at your inner thighs. She took her time, placing marks everywhere she wanted while you were whining and trying to move your hips closer to her mouth. “Patience, malyshka, I want to take my time with you.” You couldn’t think, lost in the way her mouth feels on you. You couldn’t wait for when she’d finally delve between your folds again. Only breathless pleads left your mouth.

“Please- please” You chanted while searching for something to hold, Natasha offered her hand again and placed it on your lower abdomen, which you gratefully grabbed with both of your hands. Natasha kept teasing you until you finally looked down. She was already looking up at you, “Atta girl.”

A breathless moan escaped you, followed by high pitched whimpers, as Natasha finally dragged her tongue over your sensitive clit. She explored your sex, a combination of kissing, nipping, broad or pointed strokes of her tongue, inside, outside, everything. This woman was devouring you like she’d been starving her entire life. This felt like the beginning of the end, like you would die if she continued, but if she stopped you were sure you’d suffer the same fate. And dying with her tongue shoved deep inside you was better than any other option laid out on the table.

Her free hand had loosened around your leg, and was actively travelling to where Nat was unfolding you. She removed her tongue, but quickly silenced your upcoming whines and protests by stretching you out on her fingers. You squeezed Natasha’s hand hard enough to bruise, and she pressed her hand down lightly to put pressure on your lower stomach. You felt so, so full.

She even started scissoring her fingers to fully rub against your walls, and you screamed out “NAT- OH, OH”. “I know my sweet girl, you are so close aren’t you, I can feel you squeezing my fingers, I can hardly move them.” You were aimlessly nodding to everything she said. “Yes, YES- PLEASE” She adjusted her head a bit, kissing your hip before wrapping her lips around your clit and sucking. “NATASHA-“ You let out a strangled cry, cumming around her fingers.

You were right, you died for a moment, you were sure of it. Your breath halted as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over your grave, your entire body convulsing. Natasha used the hand that you were crushing to rub over your hip and ribcage, hoping to calm you down. You finally gasped in a breath of air and searched for her hand to hold again. You were still breathing hard as you looked down at soft emerald eyes.

She slowly pulled out of you and sucked all except one of her fingers clean, using that one to write ‘mine’ on the place you fantasised about.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha x fem!reader #natasha marvel #natasha smut #lesbian #lesbian smut #lesbian fanfiction #wlw #wlw fanfiction #sapphic #hpb.fanfics #hpb.natasha

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sp4ceboo · 1 year ago

Text

ateez as royals who fall for you (maknae line)

read hyung line here

genre: royalty!ateez x fem!reader, fluff, angst, smut, crack, a brainrot and smutfest of royal tropes

length: 11.3k

c/w: very nsfw scenes - mdni, explicit language (dirty talk, swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, heavy & mature themes (sex work, murder, assassination, execution, mentions of misogyny)

a/n: as much as writing royals was tricky, it's kind of 🤢 sad 🤢 to see this au end. that being said nobody ask me for a pt 2 pls i need to recover from the trauma LMAOO and as always, huge thank you to the queen of royal au's herself @sorryimananti-romantic for helping me finish the fic and for teaching me how to make moodboards using something that is *not* word doc :')

san

pov: you're forbidden lovers

“shh,” san hushes you with a teasing curl of his fingers that are buried inside you. “wouldn’t want everyone outside to know what a dirty little slut the princess is, do you?”

his other hand covers your mouth, stifling the breathy moans and desperate whines that escape your lips as you sit in between his legs, naked and pressed back to lean against his chest

there is the sound of water splashing over the edge of the bathtub when san hooks his feet around your inner ankles so that he can spread your legs wider for him

he presses the palm of his hand harshly against your clit and your back arches with a muffled worship of his name

“or maybe you like that,” he teases “you like the idea of people knowing how good i make you feel with my fingers”

san removes his hand from your mouth and lowers it to pinch your nipple, smirking against your neck as you babble incoherently

he coos as he adds yet another finger into you, “imagine that, everyone knows you as the princess who loves being fucked dumb. and by one of her servants, no less”

all caution is thrown to wind and you drop your head back to lean against his shoulder, mouth lolling open with unrestrained pleads for more, more, faster as he angles his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you

“cum, princess” he demands

you grip bruises onto san’s thighs and arms when the pace of his fingers doesn’t relent even after your orgasm has washed over you

his arms tighten around you as his thighs flex to keep you still in his hold

you let out a choked sob from the overstimulation, teetering between pain and pleasure

“give me one more, i know you can do it,” he coaxes

the hand that has been fondling your breasts snakes down to rub your clit

with his fingers knuckle-deep inside of your pussy and his other hand playing relentlessly with your sensitive clit, the scale tips over and your vision blurs as another wave of pleasure hits you, more intense than the first one

“princess?” and then a knock. “are you okay?”

san slowly draws out the remainder of your orgasm with lazy thrusts of his finger into you

you just know he’s enjoying himself when you have to hide the shakiness in your voice to answer back to your maid outside, “everything’s fine. i’ll be done soon”

“soon?” san smirks, lifting you up by the waist to align your folds with his swollen cock. “then we better make this quick”

because you and san do not have the luxury of time, much less the luxury of love

he isn’t just another one of the numerous servants who serve you

he is everything to you despite how taboo it is for a princess and servant to love each other

his insignificance within the palace makes it much easier for him to slip away; for nobody to take notice

but at the same time, his insignificance is the whole reason why you two must be secretive in the first place

you make sure san has safely snuck out of the bathroom before you finally exit the bathtub and stand on unsteady legs

you allow your maids to come in and help you into the elaborate attire you are to wear for the afternoon

your parents have informed you that you are going to have visitors, thus requiring you to look your best

without much time left until the appointed meeting due to your…escapade, you make your way to the great hall, catching a glimpse of san’s dimpled smile from amongst the other body servants and waiting staff in the room

you have only just settled into your seat next to the king and queen when the guard outside the doors announces the arrival of your guests - the monarchs from the neodonian kingdom

schooling your expression to one of neutrality, you watch as they enter

and then you realise it isn’t just the neodonian king and queen who have come to visit

but the prince as well

he is undeniably handsome and pleasing to the eye with his sleekly gelled hair, chiseled features and tall, sturdy build

the young prince catches you looking at him and breaks out into a friendly smile and-

he has dimples too

the king garners everyone’s attention with a clear of his throat, before he welcomes the monarchs

prince jaehyun, you learn his name is

“after much discussion between ourselves and king jeong and queen jeong, we are pleased to announce our desire for closer relations between our kingdoms,” your father starts, booming voice resounding within the hall

you can’t stop yourself from looking over at him as he speaks with purpose, a strange niggling feeling starting to twist your stomach

the tight smile that your mother passes you from your father’s other side does little to settle your nerves

“as such,” the king continues, “we shall look forward to the engagement between my daughter and prince jaehyun”

there is a roaring sound in your ears, as if you have been pushed to stand under a raging waterfall

engagement

the engagement

you

prince jaehyun

the engagement between you and prince jaehyun

it takes everything in your body not to bolt up from your seat

your hands grip the armrests of your seat with a grasp so tight you are certain you will leave a permanent imprint of your agony

instead, you look around frantically for the one person your instincts are screaming for

where is san?

you are afraid to see how much this is going to hurt him

you are desperate to tell him that you had no idea about this

you are aching to press confessions of love and reassurance against his lips

but just like the insignificance of his status, san is nowhere to be seen

over the two years that you and san have been in your secret relationship, he has gained extensive knowledge of which particular tasks allow him a greater chance of seeing you, which corridors reach you the quickest, and which times during your schedule you have a break

never would you have thought he would use this knowledge to avoid you

it continues like that for the weeks following the announcement

you have no choice but to spend time with your future fiance when your father tells you very clearly to “ensure the prince feels at home”

prince jaehyun is warm and you find yourself getting along with him like you two are friends, but that is it - there are no sparks brighter than friendship

when you spend time with him, you cannot help but compare him to san; san would’ve said this, san would’ve done that, san, san, san

jaehyun engages you in conversation, easily filling in the gaps and lulls with little comments here and there, equipped with a charming laugh and deep dimples

but it only reminds you of san’s dimples and crescent eyes when you two would race through corridors, fingers tightly interwoven as you both run away to a secluded area with hushed giggles

jaehyun points out that neither of you like mushrooms during a dinner and helps nudge the servings on both of your plates to one side

the smile as you say “thank you” does not fully grace your lips because you think about san, who boasts that he will eat all the mushrooms in the world so that you never have to lay eyes on one ever again

jaehyun offers a soft yet sturdy hand to help you down the stairs or when he notices you are walking in heels across an uneven surface

your body recalls san’s rough, calloused hands that leave a trail of goosebumps wherever they touch your bare skin as he worships your body all night long

jaehyun is handsome and he is kind, but he is not san

the night before the king officially announces your engagement with prince jaehyun arrives

and still, you have not had a moment alone with san since he disappeared during that first announcement in the great hall

hurt and longing consume you to the very core

some days it is manageable, a concealed yet incessant thought, like a sticker stuck to the sole of your shoe

other days it wraps around your soul completely like a constrictor tightening as it slowly squeezes the life out of its prey

but you know that you cannot be selfish

what you feel, san feels with an intensity multiplied several times

after all, you are not the one who must stand in the shadows as the love of your life becomes engaged to somebody else, powerless to do anything but watch and poison your own smile with lies

you are lying on your bed when a quick, sharp knock sounds on your bedroom doors

you make no move to acknowledge your visitor, having told your maids very clearly you did not want to be disturbed tonight

your last night as yourself before you become prince jaehyun’s fiance

but then the knocks come a little more urgent, a little more frantic, just like your heartbeat does as it starts to speed up in anticipation

you hold your breath as you hurry to pull open the doors-

and there he is

“san-”

he swallows the rest of your words in a desperate kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he walks you backwards so that he can step into your room

he tilts your head and slots his lips against yours again while he nudges your door closed with his foot

it isn’t until you let out a whine as his tongue swipes over your bottom lip that he pulls back to finally look at you, both of his thumbs caressing your cheekbones

you grip the front of his linen shirt, afraid that he will disappear as soon as you let go

“san, i- i had no idea, i didn’t agree to any of this”

he shushes you gently, a painful smile adorning his handsome face

“i know. i know, so please don’t cry, love,” he murmurs softly

you don’t even realise the weeks of suppressed emotions have started making their way down your face in salty trails until san uses the back of his fingers to tenderly brush them away

“i’m getting engaged tomorrow, san,” your voice breaks as reality settles in

you are so afraid

you are so lost

above all, you are so in love with san

“i know,” he reassures again, “but until tomorrow, you are still mine”

and so you spend your last night together

time has always been precious; conversations, kisses and touches rushed and with fervour

but tonight, san takes his time with you

he lays on your bed with you cradled on top of him, limbs tangled together as he savours the taste of your lips against his

he turns you onto your back as he slowly undresses you, leaving tattoos of his love each time he bares another part of your body

he pleasures you with his fingers whilst whispering into your ears, creating a harmony with his praises and the melodious moans that leave your lips

and as he brings you both to your highs numerous times throughout the night like an ingrained dance routine, it is accompanied with confessions of i love you

san holds you against his chest under your blankets so tightly that you cannot tell where your body ends and his body starts

before you drift off, safe and protected in his arms, he murmurs against your temple, “no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter what happens in the future, my heart will always be yours”

“as will mine”

you wake up the next morning to an empty bed and an equally empty heart

restless and drowning in a mix of emotions, you pace the empty corridors of the guest bedchambers

which is where jaehyun finds you as he exits his room

he is surprised but is quick to greet you kindly, “good morning, princess. what are you doing here?”

you pause mid-step

what are you doing?

“prince jaehyun,” you let the words come out of you before you can regret them. “can we talk for a moment?”

he nods, entering his room again as he pulls the door open wider for you to follow

jaehyun closes the door and then offers you a seat on his sofa, before pulling up his own chair and settling a respectful distance away from you

“i hope you don’t feel uncomfortable in my room,” he explains, “i thought that we would be less likely to be disturbed in here…considering most people know of our engagement today”

“actually, i wanted to talk to you about that”

“go on,” he encourages you with a dimpled smile

you take a deep breath

“i’m sorry,” you blurt out

and then you are admitting to the prince that he is lovely and charming and caring, but you just don’t see it working out with him

you don’t want to get engaged with him

because your heart already belongs to somebody else

“good”

“i’m so sorry, i should have been honest with you from the start but- wait, what?” you look up from where you have been nervously picking at your cuticles

jaehyun is smiling at you - a genuine smile that you did not know he had

“i’m actually relieved to hear that, princess,” he admits. “because i…also have someone that i love back home”

and for the first time, you and jaehyun truly see each other in the same light

“who is it?” he asks

“his name is san,” and then you add on, “he has dimples just like you do”

you ask him the same question

you see the way jaehyun’s expression softens with love from just the mere thought of the other

it makes you wonder whether you have the same look on your face when you mention san

jaehyun jokes, “want to be the one who tells your father we’re calling off the engagement? i don’t fancy getting executed today”

but despite what he says, mere hours later, when you are both standing in the great hall before your parents - the kings and queens of both your kingdoms - he is the one to speak up

“your majesty, we have decided to part ways peacefully and would not like to proceed with the engagement. our kingdom will always be your ally, regardless of marital relations or not”

“what?” you see veins starting to appear across the king’s forehead as he tries to maintain his temper, but the queen and the jeong monarchs seem to be taking the news much better

disappointed, perhaps, but understanding

the queen leans closer to remind the king that they had all agreed to this engagement on the terms that the decision would ultimately be yours and jaehyun’s

you suddenly speak up because this may be the only time you have the courage to

“i have one more thing to say,�� you declare. “i revoke my noble status and thus declare nullified all the privileges, rules and traditions that come with nobility. i have someone i love and i wish to marry them as myself, not as the kingdom’s princess”

the king roars furiously, “that is enough! leave!” and he slams his hand against the throne’s armrest

shocked and betrayed by your father’s reaction, you rush out of the great hall with tears welling in your eyes

only to run straight into the waiting arms of san

“oh, princess,” he murmurs against the crown of your head as he engulfs you in his embrace

he doesn’t have to say anything for you to realise that he has heard the whole conversation

but you do not care about anything anymore

you are where you want to be, held by who you want to be with

“how are you here?” you sniffle

“jaehyun approached me earlier. i thought i was going to get beat up,” san’s attempt to make you smile is successful

when you lift your head up to look at him, you realise his eyes are wet as well

then you feel his body stiffen as his eyes shift to focus on something behind you

someone

he immediately steps away from you, bowing deeply as he greets the queen

you turn around to see her face adorning an endearing smile

“it’s fine, sannie,” she says, and you are not sure whether you and san are more surprised by the fact that she knows him by name or by the affectionate nickname she has used

“i’ll, uh, leave you two to talk,” he flusters

she thanks him with a teasing remark, “i won’t keep her away from you for very long”

san waits further down the corridor, back turned to give you two a moment of privacy

and then she is stroking your hair affectionately

“i am so proud of you. you’ve grown up so well and you are so brave,” she says

you don’t understand

you ask, “why aren’t you angry?”

“oh, baby,” she fondly runs her fingers through your hair, just like she used to when you were younger. “before my duties as the queen to my people, i am the mother to my daughter. i love you and all i want is for you to be happy”

your lips tremble with emotion as your mother pulls you into a hug

“does sannie make you happy, dear?”

you nod, “the happiest”

“then that is all i want. now go,” she takes a hold of your shoulders and gently turns you in the direction of san. “i’ll talk to your father”

with one last encouraging squeeze, you race down the corridor towards san

he hears your footsteps and has already turned around with open arms waiting to catch you

you hear him let out an oomph! with how hard you throw yourself into him, but he is then swaying your bodies side to side

san pulls back slightly with an incredulous look. “does this mean we can be together? together together?”

“i goddamn hope so because i gave up my princess privileges for you. no more carriages, no more assorted sweet delicacies, no more daily massages-” you fold down your fingers as you continue listing things off

he cuts you off with a tickle to your sides as he says, “that’s easy to sort out”

“first, you’ll still be my princess,” he unfurls one of your fingers so it stands upright again

“second, i’ll carry you myself so that you never need to use your feet again,” he unfurls another finger

“i’ll give you a treat whenever you want,” he kisses your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip with a teasing tug

“and, dear princess,” he pulls you flush against his body and you have to steady yourself on his chest to avoid tripping over, “i can give you hourly massages…”

smirking, he starts to lower his head to suck pretty marks onto your neck as he whispers in a low voice, “...if you can keep up”

mingi

pov: you're the prince's maid

for what you are about to do, you could very well be executed should somebody catch you

but desperate times call for desperate measures

and there’s no guarantee that you and all the other staff will not be executed anyway…

not with what has just happened in the palace

you push the door closed behind you with a soft click, using the brief changeover of guards to slip inside the bedroom of the youngest prince, unnoticed

you call out softly but urgently, “prince mingi”

when you hear him groggily murmur, starting to bubble towards the surface of consciousness, you dare to give his shoulder a rough shake

“prince mingi, please wake up”

his eyes flutter open, confusion starting to clear the fogginess in his head as he struggles to comprehend the sight of your face hovering inches from his, deep into the hours of the night

“w-what’s going on?” he clears his husky voice, “are you okay?”

you wish you could reach out and smooth the wrinkles of concern from his forehead

reassure him that everything will be okay until he falls back asleep

but there is no time

“the crown prince is dead and we must leave. now.”

the effect is immediate, like you have just driven a knife into his chest

although you suppose it must not feel very different for prince mingi right now

“the crown prince is d-” the word tastes vile on his tongue, so he asks after his second oldest brother instead. “what about prince eun?”

you must drive the knife into him once more

“he was the one who murdered the crown prince, but he has framed you for the murder. there is no time, prince mingi, we must leave now”

“the court will find me innocent,” yet he lets you tug him out of his bed

you hastily help prince mingi into a dark brown robe while you shake your head, “not when your inscribed sword is currently covered in the crown prince’s blood. we do not know who is secretly working for prince eun. until we know for sure, we do not stand a chance of clearing your name”

he knows that you’re right, even if his heart is hoping that you are wrong

the prince slides his hand into the gap between his bed and wall, pulling out a spare sword and wrapping the belt around his waist

eyes sweeping across his chamber one final time, he locks eyes with you grimly before turning to flee

you follow the prince through a back passageway - it’s not entirely a secret and it won’t be long before the royal guards come for the prince, discover his empty bedroom and give chase

but it is long enough to give you two a head start

he helps you up onto the back of his personal horse before he swings himself up easily onto the saddle behind you

with a nudge of his feet, the prince sends the horse into a gallop

you startle with a yelp, having never ridden a horse before, much less one at this pace

prince mingi presses himself a little closer to you and slots his chest against your back as he leans forward to guide your hands to hold the reins with his

“here,” he murmurs, “just follow me”

he shifts one hand to settle on your waist, guiding your body into a comfortable rhythm that dances in sync with the horse’s movements and his own

when he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it, the prince places his hand back on the reins, yet he stays close, keeping you safely encased within his arms to prevent you from falling off

you’re not sure how long you two ride for

but at some point the prince slows the horse to a canter

with the slower sway of the steed, the steady clack of hooves against the forest floor, and the warmth of the prince around you, you drift off to his whispered, “sleep, i’ve got you”

you wake up to find yourself on a scratchy pile of leaves

the events of last night piece themselves together when you spot prince mingi, still adorning his deep blue silk pajamas, leaning against a tree a few feet away

it would have been a sight to see if not for the fact that-

“what are we going to do now?” you sit up, and the prince’s robe, you now register, falls from around your body

the prince gives you a warm smile as you rub the sleep from your eyes with fisted hands

“we’ll head into halsburg. the town is small enough the news should not have traveled that far yet. we’ll replenish some supplies and go from there”

it’s unspoken

the fact that there is no solid plan from there

even if the two of you have managed to escape the royal guards, for how long can you two run?

plus, it will be impossibly difficult to find evidence while on the run, when the answers are within the castle walls themselves

but you push those thoughts aside as you two enter halsburg, the prince’s hood pulled up over his face

you do the bulk of the purchases, less likely to be recognised by the townspeople

it’s mainly food and water for yourself, the prince, and his horse, and a simple tunic to replace his royal pajamas - something you have been teasing him about since you woke up

later that night, hours away from the outskirts of halsburg, you two settle for a couple hours of rest

a small fire crackles away to the song of the cicadas, an occasional pop as the licks of flames cast shadows across your faces

you glance at the prince sitting across from you, who is idly fiddling with his pajama top

specifically, the royal crest of the song family embroidered onto its front pocket

your heart clenches painfully, knowing the death of a family member is hard enough to process without the additional weight of being framed for murder, much less by your own brother who is the real culprit

“prince mingi…” you start, voice low

he glances up at you, eyes softening as he curves his lips up into a small smile, “i’m okay.”

you hesitate for a split second before letting the clench in your gut pull you to your feet, and you shuffle to settle back down in front of the fire, except this time beside the prince

all the while his eyes never leave you, not even when you nudge his shoulder softly and say,

“you don’t have to be strong. not in front of me…”

and he knows

because despite the differences in your social statuses, you are the person he trusts the most

you, the girl who used to trip over the lengths of his robes that you carried, now a woman who holds herself righteously and bravely

you, who chose to risk your own life from the moment you woke him up in his chambers

you, who is still risking your life to flee with him

“only if you stop calling me prince,” he jokingly nudges you back, attempting to make the atmosphere lighter despite the wetness that is starting to paint his eyes. “with you, i am just mingi”

“okay, prince mingi,” you tease

yet, you still extend a hand out to him, palm upturned in a silent invitation for comfort should he wish to seek it, because you can tell that he isn’t quite ready to seek it verbally

mingi laces his larger fingers through yours, tucking your interlocked hands closer to his body as he draws his knees up so that he can rest his chin upon them

mingi thinks that he feels numb more than anything, but he finds he isn’t as surprised as one would expect him to be

perhaps he always knew of his middle brother’s thirst for the throne

he just never thought it would be enough to spill blood

for now though, he lets himself be distracted by your thumb tracing mindless patterns against his knuckles

he lets himself relish in the heat radiating from your side that seems to warm him from inside out, even as the embers of the fire slowly lose their glow and die out with the darkening night

the days start to repeat themselves

you two cover as much distance as you can while sparing what time you can afford for yourselves and mingi’s horse to rest

mingi has decided to travel to prince yunho's kingdom, an old and trusted ally who may be able to provide you two with protection while he pulls strings to fight back against prince eun

from his calculations, the journey will take at least another two weeks

and although mingi doesn’t tell you this, deep down he does not know whether you two have two weeks left

the threat of the royal guards catching up hangs over the two of you like a hangman’s noose

neither of you have brought up that night by the fire either

but something has definitely changed in the way you seek comfort and reassurance in each other

as if so long as you have each other, everything will be alright in the end

when you feel him tremble as he sleeps curled around you, restless from a plaguing nightmare, you hush sweet nothings and brush his locks away from his forehead until his breathing steadies out again

and when you’re seated on the saddle in front of him, you now having long grown accustomed to horse riding, he still finds himself resting a comforting hand on you somewhere - your hips, thigh or over your own hand

sometimes when he is laughing softly with you, your arms brushing against each other, you imagine a different story; one where you are worthy of loving him

sometimes when you are tucked into his chest, small exhales escaping your open lips as you sleep, mingi imagines a different story; one where he is able to love you freely

because despite the blood running through his veins that has ultimately led to his downfall, you still look at him as though he has placed the stars in the very sky that you two have spent countless nights under

and although he knows the reality is that he cannot, he tries to write his own story, even if just for tonight

you are lying in his arms, legs tangled together, when the question comes tumbling out of his lips

“will you stay with me, forever?”

he feels you still in his embrace, before you’re pulling back a little to look at him with a chuckle

“you should be asking a princess that, prince mingi, not somebody like me”

“you are a princess in my eyes”

you can’t help the endearing look that crosses over your face as you lightly tap his nose, “you know that is not how it works”

“then we can run away. for i am already as good as dead to my kingdom,” he tells you with boyish determination

“you cannot, mingi. your people need a good prince”

“but what prince would i be if i cannot even boldly love you? the person who is dearest to me?”

under his sincere gaze and the weight of his words, you allow him this moment of solace

because perhaps, you want it just as much as he does

“okay, i’ll be your princess,” you breathe out

“forever?”

“forever”

that night, it is just you and mingi - no titles that separate your world from his, no looming threat of death - just two people in love

even as an uneasy pit settles at the bottom of mingi’s stomach, a growing feeling that gnaws away at him into the early hours of the next morning

he is startled awake, your expression frightened, and he immediately understands when he hears the thunderous chorus of hooves hitting the ground towards you two

mingi had known there was not much time left, but he did not think that the inevitable confrontation would happen this soon, only mere hours after the soft kiss he had pressed against your forehead

the desperate attempt to escape once more is futile, the royal guards closing the distance within minutes

left with no choice but to stop, you and mingi demount and the guards move to flank you both in a wide semicircle

when the head of the guards, prince eun, saunters forward, mingi matches with a stride of his own so that he can step in front of you

“you killed the crown prince, eun,” mingi spits at his brother

“running and denying your actions up until your very last moments, i see,” prince eun laughs condescendingly. “and you even took a little dog with you, too”

mingi presses you closer to his back, hiding you from the leering gaze of his brother

prince eun smiles smugly at mingi’s reaction, before he takes out a scroll and unravels it

“for high treason of the assassination of the crown prince, the king hereby decrees the immediate revocation of nobility of his third son, song mingi, and for the execution of song mingi and his maid upon sighting.”

you press your nose into mingi’s back, taking one last inhale of his familiar scent

the bowmen all take aim as prince eun sneers, “any last words, brother?”

mingi turns around, and all you can see in that moment are his warm eyes and dimpled cheeks

“i love you, my princess,” he proclaims

“forever,” you reply

he brings his lips down to connect them with yours, drowning out the distinct vibration of loosening strings and the hiss of flying arrows with the roaring symphony in your hearts

you’re unsure what pain swallows you whole first - the pain as an arrowhead sinks into your chest, or the pain as you realise that this is the end of your short-lived love with mingi

you struggle to keep the smile on your face as you lock eyes with mingi, trying to memorise the loving gaze that adorns his own face

you see his mouth moving, but the pain exploding throughout your body is too loud for you to make out his words

with your last breath, you gasp out your final confession, “i love you too, mingi. we’ll meet again in the next life”

as the world starts to fade away, cold creeping into your limbs, you hope that in another story, in another lifetime, you and mingi will be able to find each other again

wooyoung

pov: you're the princess of a rival kingdom

“absolutely not, advisor lee,” your mother raises her nose in the air

“your highness, i understand but-”

“oh please, do not flatter yourself, queen cho,” queen jung spits out, “you are not the only one who abhors the idea”

you glare at the prince sitting across from you, your own gazes reflecting the tension in the room

advisor lee has suggested that your family and the jung family host a joint royal ball as a grand display of amity between the two neighbouring kingdoms, particularly between the princess - yourself - and their prince - prince wooyoung

there have been spreading rumours in town of the strained relationship between the two royal families

which aren’t entirely untrue

as a child, the two kingdoms have been loyal and steadfast in their alliance and friendship

in fact, it is not uncommon to find you joining prince wooyoung in his kitchen, begging the chefs to let you two lick the spoons

or to find prince wooyoung squatting next to you in your garden as you both look at the ladybugs

but as power imbalances emerge and political agendas start to diverge, a wedge is driven between your families

the relation is now dangerously close to severing completely, but not without the increasing attention of the towns surrounding the two kingdoms

and one of the last things both royal families need is unease and disunity amongst the commoners

which brings advisor lee to look on with exasperation as he tries to do his job - advise

except neither your mother nor queen jung look ready to accept his advice

your father nods slightly at the two of you, “you are dismissed, as are you, prince wooyoung”

you curtsy as the prince takes a slight bow, before you obnoxiously flick your hair over your shoulder and turn away on your heels

you escape to the garden, knowing that the meeting will take at least another hour before you are required to bid the jung family farewell

except, surprise surprise

who do you run into

you narrow your eyes at prince wooyoung as he steps towards you, who has one eyebrow quirked, “a royal ball, he says?”

“absolutely not,” you fold your arms across your chest

“oh please, do not flatter yourself, princess,” he sneers, not dissimilar to the nasally tone his mother had voiced her dissatisfaction earlier with

neither of you back down, daring the other to say something else

before you two break out into giggles, eyes glittering scandalously

“did you see your mother deliberately pass the salt instead of sugar for the tea?”

“and then the face my mother made when she took a sip of it-”

he pulls you to crouch behind an azalea bush as you both chortle like children, out of sight, before he brings you in for a dizzying kiss

you sigh, resting a hand on his chest

“do you also abhor the idea of dancing with me, prince wooyoung?” a teasing lilt in your voice

“absolutely,” he nods grimly, “why go to all that effort when there is a much grander and longer-lasting solution?”

“and what is that, my prince?”

he sneaks another chaste kiss from your lips, “for me to take your hand in marriage, my princess”

at his words, your smile dampens

“you know that i would say yes in a heartbeat. it is not i who needs convincing, but our parents”

because despite the growing hostility between your two families, the relationship you share with wooyoung has, ironically, blossomed into one of well-concealed adoration, intimacy and love

you two have come to learn that that one slightly lighter stone on the western side of your kingdom’s outer walls comes loose, and is the perfect size for slipping a piece of paper behind it

you two have also come to learn that every fourth week, if you ask your personal tutor enough questions about the plants laid out on the store’s table in front of you during your scheduled lesson in town, you’ll be able to drag it out long enough for you both to just catch a glimpse of each other as he and his escorts cut through the town on their way back to his kingdom

and of course, you two have come to learn the most isolated spots in your own respective kingdoms, like the second stairwell leading down to the cellar in wooyoung’s palace

and amongst the azalea bushes in the back garden in yours

which is exactly how you knew that he would appear, how you knew that he would give you those sweet kisses you have been craving so desperately

as wooyoung cups your jaw to kiss you once more, one that leaves you wanting to chase his lips forever, he bets you that it’ll only take two weeks of close-quarter meetings between your royal families before one of your mothers blow up and the ball idea falls through completely

in response, you bet him that they won’t even last two weeks - one at the most

except you’re both wrong

the meeting turns into two, followed by several more as the planning goes ahead

sometimes, the meetings are held in the jung palace

other times, their family journeys to your kingdom instead

one thing that stays constant is the malevolence in the air

the parents are sarcastic snipes and saccharine smiles

and on the surface, you and wooyoung are further extensions of your own parents’ simmering loathing for the other

but under the intricately-carved wooden table, you two are playing footsies, jeweled heels and leather shoes engaged in a playful fight

you see how many times you can slide your heels up along his shin, gradually inching closer towards his inner thigh with each coquettish touch

he has you pass him anything and everything under the guise of forgoing the help of the numerous royal butlers and maids around the room to deliberately irritate you

really, it is to accidentally brush his fingers over your hands; to see the pretty shade of rose that settles over your cheeks and ears as you both try not to break out into giggles

and perhaps, during the meals that may take place during the meetings, there have been a couple of peas flicked at each other here and there when no one is paying attention

(unbeknownst to you two, the maids and butlers alike must hide their own endearing smiles)

the weeks turn into months and you practically have a permanent glow radiating from you, now that you have been seeing the prince so frequently

(which also does not go unnoticed)

as you select a necklace from the assortment of choices to emphasise the plunging neckline of your off-shoulder gown, you wonder how the day of the royal ball has arrived so quickly

your personal maid, jihye, carefully fixes the clasp of the necklace around you before stepping back to let you look in the mirror

you smooth a hand over the soft lavender charmeuse of your dress, nervously looking at jihye

“how do i look?”

“stunning, my princess,” she assures you, before adding, “prince wooyoung will definitely love it”

“prin- he- what? i- sorry?” you say unintelligibly, before you try to salvage the situation by tucking a lock of hair behind your ear as you laugh her off

but jihye just looks at you knowingly

meanwhile, prince wooyoung is already at the grand hall, the jung family having arrived two days prior for the final preparations of the ball

he and his friends, princes from kingdoms located further up north and towards the east, are lingering around one of the tables decorated with flower arrangements and elaborate candle holders, ignoring the longing glances of other attendees, women and men alike, thrown at their striking posse

wooyoung is trying to keep his gaze subtle, scanning the vast number of people at the ball without craning or turning his head, searching for one particular face

yours

prince yeosang nudges the others, jerking his chin to motion towards the distracted wooyoung

when wooyoung finally realises he isn’t as subtle as he thinks, all his friends are already looking at him with varying degrees of smirks

“just know that if there were not so many people here,” wooyoung begins with a pleasant smile, “i would flip you all off right now”

before he can try stepping on his friends’ toes in the form of petty revenge, prince seonghwa points towards the entrance as his smile grows impossibly wider

“look”

wooyoung turns around

and like any typical man who is head over heels in love, the world around him slows down

the gushing whispers spreading throughout the ballroom fade into the background

because finally, there you are, gracefully stepping past the threshold of the arched doorway in all your alluring beauty, accentuated by the way your curled locks and flowing gown frame your body

for the briefest moment, you lock eyes with him, and wooyoung feels his brain shutting down on him

“you’re going to catch a fly in your mouth, woo”

“pick up your jaw. it’s on the ground”

prince yunho pretends to dab wooyoung’s mouth with the ruffled sleeves of his cream shirt, “you’re drooling, darling”

at that, wooyoung smacks his lips dazedly before coming to a moment of realisation, blinking hard twice to bring himself back to reality

“god, you’re hopeless. just go up and talk to her,” prince hongjoong snickers. “the whole point of this ball is to show off how ‘close’ your families are anyway”

wooyoung grumbles that he knows, he’s just looking for the right timing

which, unfortunately, does not seem to come

you spend what feels like the next two hours being whisked around, feigning polite interest as you are forced to engage in dull and bland conversations with numerous men of differing royal statuses, all of whom are no doubt trying to make an impression on you in hopes of becoming a potential suitor in the future

not that you have eyes for anyone apart from the one who already has your heart

the very same person who is currently fed up with watching you converse and let your hands be kissed by men who are not him

even if he knows you are pretending, he thinks that you sure are damn good at giggling at all the right times

you are trying not to let your smile turn into a grimace as the older-aged man, lord ryu you think, boasts of his wealth to you, when wooyoung enters your peripheral vision

“princess, lord ryu,” he greets you both, before looking down at the latter, “pardon me as i take the princess for a dance”

lord ryu, visibly irked but unable to say anything to the prince of significantly higher status, lets go of your hand to step back into a bow, “of course, prince wooyoung”

you giggle, this time genuinely, as wooyoung takes your hand to gently lead you towards the center of the ballroom, where several others are starting to waltz to the soft music that is now playing

you rest a hand just below his shoulder, feeling the sturdiness of his muscles flexing beneath his shirt, as he places his other hand to settle on the dip of your waist

a little possessively, you might add

“you look beautiful today,” he murmurs lowly, away from any prying ears

“only today?” you quirk an eyebrow teasingly

his voice drops down an octave, “well it’s not every day that i can tell you, princess”

wooyoung’s eyes flicker down hungrily to look at your lips

you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, knowing it will drive him absolutely crazy that he cannot just take you right there and then in front of everybody

and you can see the moment his resolve snaps

“meet me for some fresh air in ten,” bringing his lips as close to the shell of your ear as he dares

and then he’s gone

you become progressively antsy as you wait out a generous amount of time after he leaves for you to also slip away from the ballroom

wooyoung pins you against a pillar as soon as you emerge in the garden, aching to kiss you and fight for dominance until you’re both breathless and light-headed

“you don’t know how desperately i wanted to kiss you in front of everyone - let the whole world know that you’re mine,” he nips at your bottom lip

you rest your hands on his chest, fingers curled around the pleated front of his satin shirt to hold yourself steady as he turns your lips into an artwork of swollen cherry reds

he tilts your head back a little more, your mouths moving in tandem, soft moans drawn out of you, when-

“what in god’s name is going on?”

you and wooyoung startle apart at the shriek

the blush dusting your faces pale almost immediately at the sight of not just your mother, but also queen jung and a few of the royal staff

it’s kind of amusing that of all things for the two queens to have the same mindset about, it is the discovery of you and wooyoung’s secret relationship that unites them, both sharing twin expressions of horror and revulsion

you’re ripped from each other’s arms as you are forced back into the confines of your bed chamber, royal ball long forgotten

your only solace is learned later that night, when jihye brings a trolley of food you have no appetite for, that the jung family have not yet returned to their kingdom

they are still in your palace somewhere

yet that does little to soothe your tears, overwhelmed by the drastic turn of events, and you do not know when you fall asleep that night

all you know is that it is to a bed too cold and a longing in your heart too gaping to ignore

“princess,” you look up to see jihye standing at your door the next morning, almost apologetic, “the king and queen request for your presence in the throne room”

as you approach the room after tidying your appearance, your breath hitches when you spot him just by the double doors

you barrel forwards into his waiting arms, uncaring of the staff following behind you

not that they have the heart to stop you either way

“i thought you would have been forced to leave,” you blurt, unable to believe that wooyoung is right in front of you

“i’m still here,” he chuckles. “i have been summoned by your parents”

your heart drops down to your stomach at his words as you realise what this meeting is about

“and i am glad they did, princess,” wooyoung is quick to interject before your apology makes it past the tip of your tongue. “i am going to ask for your hand in marriage. officially”

“what if they banish us from ever seeing each other again?” worry overwhelms you as your breathing quickens

wooyoung gently laces his fingers through yours, bringing up his other hand to cup your face and run his thumb comfortingly over the curve of your cheekbone to keep you grounded

“no matter what happens today, no matter what the outcome is,” he looks at you with the fierce determination of a man ready to give up anything and everything for your sake, “i will never ever stop fighting for you”

he presses his soft lips against yours

“for us,” he vows

your breathing evens out, and while your heartbeat still pounds inside your ribcage, you know that it marches in rhythm with the man in front of you

this time, not afraid to appear in front of the rulers of your kingdoms - your parents - you and wooyoung nod in reassurance at each other once more, hand in hand, before you both push the doors to the throne room open

together.

jongho

pov: you're under his protection as your royal guard

over the din of volunteered names in the meeting room, jongho steps forward

“your majesty, i will accompany the princess,” he declares

“choi jongho?” your father scans him up and down with regard before nodding in approval, “it is decided then”

“him? surely i need another person with me as well?” you protest

your father quirks an eyebrow at you, a subtle reminder that whilst he is your father, he is also the king

“no, you will need to travel in disguise and stay as discreet as possible. only jongho will accompany you as your royal guard”

your father looks away and starts to address the next item on the meeting agenda; it is quite clear there is no room for argument

meanwhile, jongho sidles up to you

“you trying to catch bugs or something? close your mouth, princess,” he teases under his breath

you nudge him with an elbow, “you’re the only bug i see around here”

he rolls his eyes but you both snicker in unison when one of your older sisters turns around to shush you with a dirty look

regardless, you stay silent for the rest of the meeting

you’re not sure why jongho stepped forward to take on this task

because for someone who is your main royal guard and is supposed to be loyal and obedient, he sure makes it clear that his job is about as gratifying as babysitting

(“you can’t talk to me like that. i’m the princess”)

(“no, you’re not. you’re an idiot”)

in fact, when you had been notified a few days prior that you would be traveling with one other royal guard - who had yet to be decided at the time - jongho had spent every single day gloating that he would finally get a break from babysitting you

and yet here he is

with the opportunity to hand you off to somebody else

but instead, baring his teeth at the other guards who offer themselves up for this scouting mission

he would never admit to it either, but jongho personally spoke to the king years ago about being rostered on as your main bodyguard since he’s “known the princess for the longest and so i can protect her the best”

you don’t want to travel to the border

you’re in charge of maintaining security and defense along your borders and with neighbouring kingdoms, usually dealing with complications remotely through the ministers and advisors who work for you

this time though, there has been recent unrest near the southern borders of your kingdom near denport, a city notorious for bandits and fugitives

the situation has worsened with increased risk of bloodshed, thus has the need for you to survey the borders in person

and as the youngest sibling of five, the king has made it very clear that this is your opportunity to prove your capabilities

jongho makes sure to remind you of this fact when you grumble your way through packing a satchel of essential items to take with you

(“your fluffy slippers are not essential, princess”)

(you listen and throw them back onto the floor of your bedchambers, but stuff in a few paperweights when he isn’t looking out of petty revenge because you know he’ll end up carrying your bag for you later when you ask him to)

it’s a relatively long journey to denport, so as soon as you are ready, jongho having long finished packing his own bag, you leave your kingdom with him at your side

by the time the sun is starting to set later that day, you’re passing through a small town

he suggests calling it a night and recuperating at one of the inns

you wait while he inquires about available rooms and then follow him through a small alleyway to the inn that he has chosen for the night

you take all but one look at the rotting wood and creaking sign at the entrance before you are crossing your arms like a petulant child

“there’s no way i’m staying the night in this sorry excuse of an inn”

he merely blinks

“you’re technically not the princess right now so you better listen to me or god help me, i’ll-”

“you’ll what,” you challenge, nose-to-nose

or nose-to-throat, you suppose

but before you can dwell any further on your height difference, jongho picks you up, slings you over his shoulder like you are nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and walks into the inn without a care in the world that you are screaming bloody murder

you resign to your fate and flop uselessly against his back as he carries you up the stairs

instead, when he throws you onto the bed upon entering the room, you look up at him sultrily and smirk, “ooh, now i’m turned on”

jongho shakes his head with exasperation but you don’t miss the redness that is creeping up the back of his neck as he turns around to close the door shut

“wait,” you sit up on the bed, “we’re sharing a room?”

“it’s safer. i’ll sleep on the sofa”

you scrunch your nose at the arrangement, but you do admittedly feel a little more at ease in the unfamiliar room of the inn

you start to take a shoe off before a thought flits through your mind and you point the shoe in your hand at him like a weapon, “you better not snore”

jongho rolls his eyes as he steps forward to take the shoe out of your hand, and then he is bending down to help slip off the shoe from your other foot

a thank you lies on the tip of your tongue

“you’re the only snorer in this room, princess”

nevermind.

it’s gone.

you’re settled in bed, waiting for jongho to finish washing up and turn off the lights, when you spot it

holy shit

your immediate reaction is to seek his protection

“jongho!”

the door to the bathroom swings open almost immediately as he rushes out, eyes alarmed, alert, and zeroing onto you

water drips off the ends of his hair and you can still spot suds on his exposed torso

“what’s wrong? are you okay? are you hurt?” his voice is laced with restrained panic

you point to the corner of the room and then he sees it too

his body stiffens completely

because, mere metres from the two of you, presence sinister and dangerous…

is a fucking spider

all is quiet and still for a while, your eyes flickering back and forth between your royal guard and the spider in a tense standoff

then, just as you are about to speak up, jongho grabs his bag and swiftly turns on his heels to head towards the room’s door

“where are you going?!” you shriek

he looks at you forlornly from over his shoulder, “to prepare for my execution”

“what the fuck are you on about, jongho?”

“for abandoning my duties and failing to protect you. farewell, princess. you are on your own from here-”

his sentence is cut short as the spider scuttles towards him

and that is how you two, disguised, but still a royal princess and royal guard no less, are given an eviction warning because he streaked through the corridors of the inn half naked and screaming at the top of his lungs

needless to say, the innkeeper ends up having to remove the spider for the two of you

“you’re so embarrassing,” you whisper to him once you two are finally settled in bed and on the sofa

“no, i’m jongho,” he cackles

you don’t humour him with a response, but you know he snickers himself to sleep that night

you can’t help but let the corner of your lips tug up as well

a few days later after leaving the town, you two are resting side by side against a tree trunk when you decide to grace jongho with the opportunity to redeem himself

he’s currently halving a sandwich so you two can share

“if i were trapped in a forest full of spiders and you were the only person who could save me,” you ask gravely, “what would you do?”

without missing a beat, he replies, “prepare to grieve your death and make sure your pet cat is well fed in your honour”

he passes you the bigger sandwich as you turn to look at him with the most scandalised expression

“can you at least pretend to think for a bit?” you grumble

there’s a hint of a smile on jongho’s face when he apologises, “okay, sorry. ask me again”

you hit him with a different scenario this time

“if you had to fight a giant spider who had taken me hostage, what would you do?”

he hums thoughtfully for a few seconds, unscrewing a canteen of water for you and placing it by your side

“i would say, she is all yours, your spidery majesty, and then i would bow and walk away”

“fuck you,” you shove him good-naturedly with your shoulder

he swipes the canteen before you can knock it over and presses it into your smaller hand instead, giving it a quick pat as he dismisses your insult, “sure, if you think you can handle my dick”

“like they say,” you waggle your eyebrows at him as your voice drops down lower, “practice makes perfect”

jongho’s stoic facade finally cracks when you lean in closer and he hurries to stand up and put some distance between you and him

he shifts his legs subtly, clearing his throat to say, “we should go, denport is close”

when you’ve finished off the last of your sandwich, you dust off your fingers and grab jongho’s offered hand to stand up too

“let’s go”

one thing you have both noticed is that the closer you get to the border between your kingdom and denport, the quieter and thicker the atmosphere seems to get

the small towns you pass through have less people roaming around; in fact, most people seem to flee back into the refuge of their own houses, locking their doors and closing their windows when they catch sight of your pair

and then it happens

your plan goes awry

you and jongho are harshly awoken by a commotion outside the small room you have rented for the night

there’s a sickening smell accompanied by wails of grief in the air

when you rush outside, all you can see is a huge crowd of people gathered and your ears strain to pick up on the broken hushes of information being thrown around

“his son is lucky to have been spared”

“lucky to have seen his father slaughtered by bandits?”

“i heard it wasn’t money that they were after, though”

“those damned denport devils are up to something”

that’s all you pick up on before jongho snatches your arm and leads you back into the inn, telling you that it’s too dangerous to be out there; too dangerous for you two to continue traveling

which leads to the very first argument you ever have with him

you two butt heads all the time with your own fiery fronts and hardheadedness but more often than not, he yields to you

you’re facing him in the dim room - it is shadier than that first inn you two made a stop at weeks ago, but you’re both sharing one room just like you two have done at every single inn since

“we need to go check it out!” you shout at him

jongho takes a shaky breath as he tries to keep his voice even, “no, we should go back to our kingdom, report on the situation and call for backup!”

you throw your hands up into the air, “we’re already here - we’re basically at denport! what if something blows up soon? it might be too late by the time we go back”

jongho steps in closer as his eyes narrow

you don’t cower because you know he would never hurt you, but you do step backwards because you don’t think you can keep a clear head when he is standing so close to you, proximity dizzying like the buzz of alcohol

“of all times for you to play hero and do something that you weren’t asked to, why now? why put yourself in danger?”

your back hits the wall as jongho corners you

your chest heaves, as does his, both of you overwhelmed with emotions

he holds your gaze but his eyes are rounded with agony and distress

you don’t understand why he is so against your decision

you don’t know what to say, until your eyes flicker down involuntarily at the movement of his lips parting to exhale-

“damn, jongho, your lips are real chapped. you should use some of my lip balm”

he blinks hard at the absurdity of what you chose to say

he looks at your lips

he makes a decision

“then give me some of yours,” he says, a little breathless

and then he’s pressing his chapped lips against your smooth ones, the taste of coconut filling your mouth as your lip balm smears

suddenly, he pulls back with the audacity to look shocked as if you are the one who kissed him

and then he leaves the room without another word

he doesn’t return that night and you don’t manage to sleep either

you wonder when you started becoming used to falling asleep with him in the same room

jongho clears his throat awkwardly when you open the door in the morning and find him leaning against the wall just by the doorframe

you’re not sure whether he came back not too long ago from god knows where, or whether he was actually standing guard outside all night

you think you know which one it is, even if he doesn’t confirm it

“we’re checking out,” he mumbles, shuffling briskly into the room to grab his few belongings he had left and exiting the room again with you trailing behind

neither of you say much more to each other

you think that he’s going to lead you back the way you two came, lead you back and undo the weeks’ worth of journeying and go back to the castle

but then he’s sighing, deep and burdened, and he gently takes your hand to continue on towards denport

he’s never held your hand before

not like this, at least, tenderly tugging you along with every step so that you are no more than a few inches away from his side

you want to bicker with him and chortle together like usual but you keep quiet, giving him the space that he appears to need even if he is physically ensuring you are tucked right into his side

you two walk until the sun has dipped below the horizon

from what you know, you are right along the southern border and denport will only be another half day’s walk away

jongho makes a small bonfire before he joins you to lean against a fallen log

he shimmies off his coat and drapes it over your legs and then the forest also settles into silence along with you both

it’s now or never

“why are you so against us going to the border?” you ask him

he runs his fingers through his hair

an unruly tuft of hair stays upright and you fold your arms to stop yourself from reaching out and smoothening it for him

he looks at you as he says, “i’m fine with me going to the border, it’s you i’m not fine with. you do remember that i’m your royal guard, right”

“is that all there is to your reason,” you push, “that you’re my guard?”

you both know you’re referring to more than just the argument itself

jongho’s gaze breaks away, looking ahead at the flames of the fire instead

he is silent

for once, jongho is unarmed; no immediate snark or teasing remark to toss back at you

you hear him swallow and take a breath

“i…i don’t know,” he starts. “all i know is that with each passing day, the more i want to keep you safe”

jongho looks at you again, eyebrows drawn down ever so slightly

“why do you make me feel so worried?”

at his words, your heart clenches in an unfamiliar way and you attempt to lighten the mood, “maybe you like me”

“maybe i do”

oh.

with the reflection of the fire dancing in his eyes, it almost looks as though he is about to cry

“please, don’t go to the border, princess,” he begs softly

his plea remains unwavering and you find your heart doing the exact opposite

after a few seconds of silence, you say

“okay, jongho. i won’t”

the tension from his shoulders seeps out and he gently tugs you towards him so he can tuck you into his side once again

“you promise that we turn around and go back tomorrow morning?”

you nod against the warmth of the crook of his neck, then murmur, “do you think father will be disappointed in me? for returning?”

he rubs a hand up and down your arm soothingly

“of course not, princess. you’ve already done so much more than you needed to. he’ll be proud of you”

and then he adds on, “just like i’m proud of you”

this is the first time anyone has ever really validated your efforts; being the youngest of a large family means you are often overshadowed

caught off guard, all you can do is whisper out, “thank you, jongho”

he hums and you feel his smile against the crown of your head

you’ve never been drunk before, but you think that this is the closest you have ever gotten

you are intoxicated by him

“if you’re thankful,” the rumble of jongho’s voice against your cheek is pleasant, “can i ask for something?”

“whatever you want”

he eases you from the comfort of his neck and tilts your chin up slightly with a finger, cheeky grin plastered across his face

“can i have some more of your lip balm?”

#haha word vomit is my specialty #NAH THE SAN SMUT WITH THE DEGRADATION I WAS SWEATING #wooyoung's au was so floaty i lowkey loved it #and mingi's hurt so good :((#OMG BUT I LOVED THE LIPBALM PRIVATE JOKES THEY HAD ME CHUCKLING #I LOVE YOU YOU'RE AMAZING AND I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT #*puckers lips like obnoxious old granny*#KITH ME #loren takes over my one brain cell

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ziggyzolch · 8 months ago

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Headache (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Summary: If you could describe yourself in three words, they would be: little shit speedster. Causing trouble was your favorite pastime, and you've never been caught. That would change, however, when an angsty witch is assigned to capture you.Warnings: Cursing

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

❅❅❅

The stench of vomit and cigarettes fills your nose as you duck and hide in an alley next to a nightclub. Wiping sweat off of your forehead, you peek your head out of the alley and watch the police cars that were chasing you turn the wrong corner. After making sure the coast was clear, you let out a breath then fall to the ground in laughter. “Idiots.” You push out in between giggles.

Being a little shit was your specialty. From egging random houses to stealing the batons of unaware police men, there was nothing you weren’t up for. Graffitiing police cars wasn’t something you did often, but definitely what you had just done. You were adding the finishing touches, pubes, to the massive penis you just spray painted on the car when a cop finally noticed you. It was embarrassingly easy to outrun him, you can’t blame him though.

You discovered your superhuman speed the first time you got caught messing around, and your shit-headedness increased tenfold. The early years of your childhood were a mystery to you, only rarely getting short, useless flashbacks to being in a lab of some sort. You figured that's where your abilities came from, but in all honesty you didn’t really care. Whatever you didn’t remember was not your problem.

A good 3 minutes of laughing later, you catch your breath and sprint back to your dorm, ignoring the glowing red light at the corner of your eye.

❅❅❅

Walking into your dorm room, the first thing you notice is how cold it is. The door closes behind you, a red mist dissipating around it. Your eyes widen and you let out a quiet ‘What the fuck’ before the sound of your chair moving catches your attention. Your window was open. The first explanation you think of is that your roommate is playing a stupid prank. “You aren’t funny, Kate. Why are you even still up-” You pause, a figure suddenly appearing in front of you.

That is most definitely not your roommate.

They cover your mouth right when you're about to scream.

“Shh, she’s sleeping. Move.” The stranger, which you now know is a woman, turns you around and pushes you out of your dorm, her hand still covering your mouth. Your thoughts start racing. ‘What the fuck! I should’ve brought my rape whistle with me. This is definitely human trafficking. Couldn’t they kidnap me tomorrow, I have homework-’

The woman turns you around “Shut up! For fucks sake- ew!” She stares at you in shock. Did you just lick her hand? After an awkward stare off you finally speak, “Fuck you, rapist!” You turn to run when you’re stopped by a…red cloud?

You can hear her voice getting closer while she stomps towards you, “Don’t even try to run, and I’m not a rapist you little shit.”

“Let me go!”

“That’s not happening.”

“Yeah cuz you’re a RAPIST.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “Tony told me you were a handful but I didn’t think it’d be this bad.”

“Yeah well…Fuck you and Tony!”

“Oh my god.”

“Rapist!”

“Enough!” You’re about to reply with another accusation when red fills your vision.

Wanda picks you up from where you passed out and sighs in exasperation. Tony’s in for a ride.

❅❅❅

Next Part

A/N: This is the first chapter! I'll probably upload more on AO3 and Wattpad, @ziggyzolch on both :)

#marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #the scarlet witch #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #wlw #reader #x reader #sapphic #fanfiction #fanfic

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sevs-corner · 2 days ago

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HC for: Gary "Roach" Sanderson (CoD MW2)

Could be for like, my actor AU or alt timeline AU but generally, this is how I imagine this man outside of combat

He is the silly silent type of person

If he was in MW2 (2022), he would definitely be a part of the silly trio with Soap and Gaz

The "3 Stooges of Sarges", Price would mutter as he finds himself in one of their schemes once more with Simon giggling at the side

As per rule of threes, Soap is the loud extrovert, Roach is the silent introvert, and Gaz is the balanced out ambivert-- which can either lead to him convincing the other two to stop or... encourage them with better ideas... maybe.. sometimes? Most of the time

As per silent protag rule, he has immunity! Well, more like a very high threshold for tolerating pain that it looks like he instantly heals after getting shot

(Dont worry he just gets knocked out for a second but is back right at it- which is a cause of concern of the crew)

Though is scares the dickens out of the enemies when they were so sure that they shot him down but just simply arises from the dead

Spookin' them and acting as the distraction for the other two to finish the job for him

(In which they immediately treat him or call for medevac while Roach pouts, saying that he can still go on)

But seeing that pool of blood follow him doesn't really help his case here now

Roach is also one of the top shooters in the range and during the missions, always having the highest kill count and the bragging rights that come with it

(Ghost is actually jelly and tries to compete for it when they get sent in a mission together)

He's also just so knowledgeable when it comes to handling and making weapons

That he full on bellows at the poor attempts of Soap trying to make tools back in the "Alone" mission in Las Almas

Ghost shrugged, albeit smirking underneath, at how he consolidated Johnny boy- saying it was his "first time" and all that but he too had to face palm a couple times during their comms with each other

Roach is the type to loot an enemy's body for bullets, weapons, frags- just to use it against the enemy and make them confused

I'm pretty sure that, even one time, he had swapped his clothes with a foot soldier-- easily infiltrating their base and destroying it from the inside then out

He IS the go-to man for information retrieval and silent infiltration ops because of it (but is actually dubbed his specialty, as per Price's compliments)

For some God forsaken reason, if you ask Roach to grab or shoot at something-- he is ON it like,

"Take down that AC-130 from above with a nail and rubber Sarge-" *BOOOOMMMM*

"Say less, cap'n."

So yeah, just dummy n' silly word vomit hcs 'cause I kinda wanna see more of Roach as part of the current 141 hehe

#cod mw2 #unedited #crackfic #tf 141 poly #cod roach #gary roach sanderson #roach call of duty #roach sanderson #roach x soap x gaz #roach x soap #roach x gaz #cod hcs #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2

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violet-shadows · 2 years ago

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Moving On (Part Four)

⊱ Previous Part ❈ Next Part ⊰

Masterlist

Summary: After loving Azriel in secret for years, you decide it’s time for you to move on.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader (She/Her)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: drugging with the implied intent to commit SA, attempted kidnapping, vomiting

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Hope is a fickle thing. It can be a blessing, carrying us forward when the darkness seems infinite and giving us the strength to persevere. It can also be a curse, lingering despite logic and reason, making disappointment all the more crushing. You had tried to rid yourself of hope for so long where Azriel was concerned. You even thought you succeeded a few times, accepting that your feelings would never be returned. But then, a flicker of hope would spark, only to be snuffed out once again, plunging you into darkness. Last night, when Azriel said those fateful words, the hope that bloomed within you was all but explosive, fierce as a wildfire but as brief as a candle in the wind. In the end, it left you breathless and aching. And, as always, kicking yourself for your foolish whimsy.

“Do you not understand how precious you are to me?!”

The words echoed in your mind long after you left the House of Wind, twisting like a knife in your gut. You knew he didn’t mean it the way you wanted him to, and yet, for a brief moment, you had hoped you were wrong.

“Precious to you… as a friend.”

“Right.”

You replayed the memory, focusing on how he recoiled, grimacing as he clarified. As if the alternative was revolting. It had taken everything in you not to crumple as you sought out Cassian, keeping your head high and jaw tight when you asked him to fly you home. Your friend had read the look on your face but mercifully didn’t press when you shut down his line of questioning.

You spent the rest of the day shut up inside, numb and wallowing in self-pity and embarrassment, and when the sun finally set over the City of Starlight, you lay in your bed and cried.

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

“So who’s next on the roster?”

Mor startled from her place at her desk, pushing shiny blonde locks out of her face as you entered. She blinked owlishly, not answering, and you clarified, “For dates?”

“Dates?” Mor echoed, cocking her head to one side. “More dates? I thought… I figured… after what happened…”

“I’m not going to let one bad experience ruin everything,” you declared with a shrug, forcing yourself to remain the picture of nonchalance. Acting like something didn’t bother you was your specialty, and you weren’t about to switch up now. “Besides, it wasn’t one of your picks that turned out poorly.”

Mor shifted nervously, her previous enthusiasm over playing matchmaker gone. “I just thought you might want some time…” she trailed off. “Or maybe you and Az…”

“Me and Az what?” you prompted her when she didn’t finish her sentence.

“Nothing,” Mor said, plastering on a bright smile that you knew meant she was changing the subject. “If you want back in the game, we’ll get you back in the game.”

“Yep, I’m ready,” you replied, flopping into a chair across from her. Neither of you missed the way your voice wobbled with uncertainty, despite your assurances. This seemed to give Mor pause, and she was quiet for a long moment as she glanced between the fireplace and you.

“Before we go through my roster, as you call it,” Mor began, folding her hands in front of her on the desk, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you shrugged.

“Have you ever considered… would you ever consider giving Az a chance?” Her tone was gentle, almost pleading, and you shot her a questioning look.

“Az? As in… Azriel?” you asked. She nodded her expression remaining grave. “What do you mean? Give him a chance to what?”

“You know what I mean,” she pushed. “Give him a chance… to see if there’s a spark. There’s no pressure! I was just wondering if you had ever considered.”

“I’m not following,” you felt your eyebrows pinch together as you tried to unravel her words. “How would I give him a chance? He doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“Very funny,” Mor snorted, rolling her eyes in good humor, but her eyebrows shot up when she saw you were completely serious. “You’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious,” you exclaimed. “Did you hit your head or something? Are we talking about the same Azriel? Tall, dark, handsome, speaks to shadows… that guy?”

“Yes, that Azriel,” Mor replied. “The same one who is completely in love with you.”

The air rushed from your lungs and you sputtered, you gasp soon turning into a high, keening giggle as you took in the absurdity of Mor’s statement. “That’s a good one, Mor,” you said, shaking your head. “But you really shouldn’t tease people.”

Instead of joining in as you expected, Mor shook her head in apparent exasperation and sighed. “Look, I usually wouldn’t meddle,” she began, earning an incredulous look from you. “Not in something this personal, at least. But apparently, you’re dense enough that you need a little help, so I’ll spell it out for you. Azriel is head over heels in love with you and he has been for a while.”

“You’re serious,” you said, shock sobering you.

“Completely,” Mor nodded. “By the Mother, we all thought you were just great at pretending not to notice. You really didn’t know?!”

You opened your mouth, only to shut it again when words failed you. “I don’t think… that can’t be…”

“Well, it is,” Mor said. “You’re the last to know, apparently. And now that you do know, what do you think?”

“What do I think?” you echoed numbly. Your face felt numb and a ringing filled your ears as if Mor’s revelation was a physical blow. “I don’t understand.”

“Look, if you don’t want things to change, they don’t have to,” she said. Her voice sounded distant like she was speaking from the other end of a long tunnel, and try as you might, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the fireplace to look at her. “I just thought I’d throw it out there as an option.”

The roaring in your ears grew, and if you hadn’t already been sitting, you were sure your knees would have buckled. Surely, Mor was joking… or just plain wrong. But one look at the pensive expression on her flawless face told you otherwise. Mor, as usual, was Truth, and she was being honest at this moment.

“Y/N?” the sound of your name brought you out of your thoughts, and you took a deep breath before making any reply.

“He’s not in love with me,” you said. Your voice sounded flat and dull, the polar opposite of the chaos that was roiling within you.

“He is,” was Mor’s retort.

“He’s not,” you insisted. Shock was giving way to irritation and you wanted to scream. Surely, you had enough crushed hope to last a lifetime by now. “I would know.”

Mor simply laughed at that. “Apparently, you wouldn’t know,” she said, “because he totally is.”

To your horror, helpless tears sprang to your eyes. It wasn’t her fault. Your friend didn’t know of your feelings for Azriel, so she couldn’t know how much this was ripping your heart out. But it was, and your composure was beginning to crumble. “You don’t understand,” you averted your eyes, furiously blinking back tears. “He can’t be.”

“Why not?” Mor’s voice had lost its teasing edge as she rounded her desk to sit next to you. When you finally looked up, concern and confusion were all you could read on her face. “Make me understand, Y/N.”

“He can’t be in love with me,” you said again, staring at the fire as you steeled yourself to make the confession. “He can’t be, because I’m in love with him.”

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Azriel took deep breaths as he approached the Townhouse and worked to adopt the calm facade he usually wore without effort. There were very few things that could make the shadowsinger truly nervous, and you were at the top of the list. It had been more than a day since your last conversation, and while Azriel told himself he was giving you time to cool off, he knew that wasn’t the whole reason he had stayed away. In truth, Azriel needed time as well. Time to shore up the gaping hole in his chest and to tamp down the impulses that your presence had brought out. He had been so close to telling you the truth, and yet, he had never been further. The worst part was, he couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse that you left before he lost his cool entirely. Part of him wished he’d just blurted it out if only to get the burden off his shoulders. But he knew you, knew your heart, and it would be selfish to put you through the pain of rejecting him.

So, when you rushed out of the House and into Cassian’s arms, he went to the roof instead of chasing after you. He stayed up there for several hours, punching and kicking and running until his knuckles bled and his legs shook from exertion. When he finally stopped, it wasn’t because the roaring of his thoughts had quieted or the yearning within him had ceased, but the insistence of his shadows, who were growing increasingly agitated as he ignored their pleas to rest. He acquiesced eventually, long after the sun had set over the city, and trudged down the steps towards his now empty room.

Cassian caught him in the hallway, his customary humor nowhere to be found as he appraised the shadowsinger. “Are you okay?” he asked. It was a stupid question and one they both knew he wouldn’t answer honestly, but Azriel appreciated the invitation to open up, nonetheless. Even after five hundred hears of his taciturn nature, Cassian still offered an ear every time.

“M’fine,” was all Azriel had muttered, brushing past his brother without a second look. He hadn’t thought about the way your smell would linger in his rooms, and when he opened the door, it drove the air out of his lungs as if he’d been walloped. Something like grief settled within him when he flopped down onto the sheets that smelled so strongly of you. The feeling weighed heavy in his chest, following him into his dreams when he finally drifted off.

When he woke the next morning, he ignored the tug in his chest as he inhaled, struck once more by the unyielding urge to search you out. He had only just avoided laying himself bare before you, and now he was itching to throw himself back in the fire. He wondered if this qualified as a form of masochism, to subject himself to the thing he wanted most but could never have. Perhaps it was, but the realization didn’t help and soon his wings were carrying him towards the Townhouse where you dwelled, driven by self-destructive tendencies and the selfish craving to see you again.

He stood outside the Townhouse door for a long minute after he arrived, debating whether or not to knock. On one hand, it seemed like the polite thing to do. On the other, he did technically live in the Townhouse from time to time, and not letting himself in would probably be seen as odd. In the interest of maintaining a facade of normalcy, he took one last moment to screw his features into a neutral mask and walked in.

The lower level of the Townhouse was empty, but he could hear the faint muttering of two feminine voices coming from the second floor. Mor had taken to living at the River House most of the time and had recently converted her old bedroom into an office. She said it was to get some peace and quiet away from Rhysand, but Azriel wondered if she did it to stay closer to you.

At one point in his life, he thought he was in love with Mor. He was sure his feelings for the blonde were as intense as they could get, that she was it for him. Then he met you, and the affection he’d felt for his friend paled in comparison. It was nearly laughable, in hindsight, that he had been so hung up on Mor. Now, he envied her, for the friendship she had with you.

He contemplated the change in his feelings as he ascended the stairs, his steps silent as ever. When he reached the landing, he paused before turning the corner into Mor’s office, his ear pricking as he caught the tail end of your sentence.

“He doesn’t feel that way about me,” you were saying to Mor, your tone slightly sad. Were you talking about a suitor? A friend? Azriel froze, torn between making his presence known and learning the context of that sentence, his shadows already swirling around him, concealing him from sight.

Before he could make a decision either way, Mor let out a scoff, “Very funny.” There was a pause, and Azriel resisted the urge to send his shadows around the corner, to ask them to describe the look on your face. “You’re serious,” Mor said after a long moment, sounding incredulous.

You spoke up, then, sounding almost scandalized. “Of course I’m serious. Did you hit your head or something? Are we talking about the same Azriel? Tall, dark, handsome, speaks to shadows… that guy?” Azriel’s mouth went dry, his heartbeat stuttering when you said his name. Now he was sure he should make his presence known. Eavesdropping was one thing, but listening in on a conversation about himself was too far. Aside from the obvious invasion of privacy, did he really want to know what you would say behind his back?

He willed himself to cough or move, to stop the conversation from progressing before he heard something he didn’t want to hear, but his feet remained rooted in place. A heartbeat later, Mor was responding in the affirmative, and Azriel’s stomach dropped. “Yes, that Azriel. The same one who is completely in love with you.”

Azriel’s heart seemed to stop in his chest as time ground to a halt. Mortification and dread swamped him and his shadows pulled in tighter, ready to ferry their master away from the nightmare unfolding just around the corner. He remained frozen in place, though, unable to resist the temptation of hearing your reaction. Distantly, he felt slightly betrayed that Mor had revealed his secrets, but he supposed he had his own lack of subtly to blame for that. Despite how his friends thought his affections for you were obvious, though, he had managed thus far to keep you from suspecting. Until now.

The silence that hung after Mor’s words seemed to stretch on for minutes while Azriel stood paralyzed. Then, a laugh rang out, so out of place he all but jumped at the sound. It took him a moment to figure out the laugh was coming from you, and his stomach dropped. He didn’t know what he expected, but laughter felt like a particularly cruel twist. It reminded Azriel of the way adults giggle at children when they make outrageous declarations, amused, and almost pitying. Was it really so preposterous, to picture Azriel at your side? He knew the answer, but a small part of him still hoped it wasn’t.

Azriel was traveling through shadows before he made the conscious decision to leave, unwilling to subject himself to further torment. He hadn’t heard the full conversation, hadn’t really known that you were laughing at his expense, but his insecurity filled the gaps in his knowledge, edging out logic with self-loathing and melancholy. Despite all of this, he wasn’t angry at you. You had every right to reject him. It was nothing less than expected, and he had been mentally preparing for it for years. He always knew you would reject him. He’d even made peace with it. So why did he feel so devastated?

⊱ —————— ❈ —————— ⊰

Likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated. Click here to check out my other work.

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#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar imagine #my stuff #ff

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chippyredd · 6 months ago

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Heathers Parahumans AU

I was bored and decided to work out an au for my two favorite obsessions. This is just the powers I think fit them the best but I have more ideas about what some of the dynamics would be like.

Heathers Villain Team - The Clique: Made up of Chandler, Duke, Mac, Ram and Kurt, Most Notorious Group in Westerburg City

The Duke - shapeshifter - changer: can turn into any individual upon ingestion of their dna, vomits it up in order to revert back

The Almighty (Chandler) - leader obviously - master manipulator - thinker: able to pick any individual and see the past hour of their actions as well as perfectly predict their future actions for the next hour - master: can speak directly into a person’s mind disguised as intrusive thoughts

The Gymnasium Cluster - Ram, Kurt, and Macnamara - Muscle of the group - Not sure what the event itself was yet - shared Brute, Shaker, and Mover powers - themed around kinetic energy along with football and cheerleading

The Ram - brute: kinetic energy and momentum manipulation, weaker base strength but has the ability to charge up attacks through continued motion ex. effortlessly smashing through buildings with a running start or swinging fist for a stronger punch - shaker: increases inertia in a radius around him, harder to get out of the way, - mover: can change directions instantly, has a cool down

The Catcher (Kurt) - shaker: has telekinetic control of objects as long as they’re being moved towards him - brute: lesser brute super strength and can choose to nullify the kinetic energy of the object he catches - mover: can ride objects by staying on one side of them

The Captain (Mac) - mover: can pick a location in line of sight and will begin flying towards it in a straight line, can orient herself anyway in mid-air, can’t change where she’s going until destination is reached - brute: any interfering objects in the line are destroyed, landing energy can be nullified or not, up to mac - shaker: sends a rippling aura upon landing that stuns enemies in a radius

Hero:

Jason Dean (goes by JD, even as a hero) - tinker with specialty in power armor and explosions, armor that propels itself with explosions, armor that shoots explosive bullets, explosive shockwave punches etc. - charming hero that hates all villains with a passion, potentially murderous streak

Fresh Trigger, Unknown Affiliation:

Veronica (The Nobody) - fresh trigger, hasn’t gone public at story start - ability to imbue her voice and written words with a level of truth unless directly contradicted by observed reality (basically people believe what she says), perfect forgeries of documents, IDs, etc, familiar objects gain the ability to be altered more over time (weapons and armor written to be stronger than they would normally be), can give commands in battle that cause temporary confusion in enemies, very draining however - second trigger: her words become truth in the minds of all who hear it until contradicted by future statements, minor reality manipulation on familiar objects which manifest instantly

This intersection of fandoms is probably a deepcut, but if you have any thoughts about the au or the character dynamics, I'd love to hear them.

#heathers #parahumans #worm web serial #heathers the musical

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ereardon · 11 months ago

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The Back Seater and the Baker || Chapter 5

[Bob Floyd x f!OC]

Overview: Bob hasn't seen Haley Nichols since he was fifteen. But when Haley shows up out of the blue with one sentence that throws Bob for a loop – "I'm turning thirty in two weeks, are we still on?" – all of the feelings from their childhood return. Bob never thought that Haley would remember the marriage pact the two made when they were just kids, even if he never forgot. So what happens when Bob falls all over again for his childhood crush? And what will Bob do when he discovers the real reason she came back to capitalize on the pact is to secure her inheritance and save her bakery from bankruptcy? Will he believe Haley when she confesses that she loves him, too?

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x OC [Bakery owner Haley Nichols]

Tropes: Marriage pact

Chapter summary: Haley and Phoenix go wedding dress shopping; Bob and Peanut have a conversation about sex; the Daggers throw Haley a bachelorette party

Warnings: Cursing, angst, alcohol, mention of vomit

Word count: 2.8K

Series masterlist here; previous chapter here

You looked up from a pile of fabric samples. “I can’t pick.”

Phoenix shot you a look over her champagne glass. “White.”

You rolled your eyes. “They’re all white, Natasha. It’s a wedding dress.”

“The venetian lace is gorgeous,” the saleswoman said, holding up a gauzy square.

“Too expensive.”

“There’s always satin.”

She said it like it was trash and not already too expensive. “Let’s see some satin options,” you said. The saleswoman bristled but rushed off when Pheonix trained her eyes on her.

“Fuck her,” she said and you laughed, settling back into the chair and taking a sip of champagne. “OK you’re drinking, but I’m going to ask you again. Are you pregnant?”

“I promise I’m not,” you replied.

She raised an eyebrow. “Find that hard to believe given the timeline.” She meant the fact that the wedding was in a week.

You shrugged. “We’ve never slept together.”

Phoenix did a spit take, champagne flying everywhere across the cream carpet. You tried to stifle a gasp that barreled into a laugh until the two of you were dissolved in laughter. “Oh, my God, the boys are gonna have a field day with that one.”

“Just hasn’t been the time,” you replied.

“What’s the rush?” Phoenix asked. “If there’s no pregnancy. What’s the rush?”

The truth sat, sour, on the tip of your tongue. Was that where sour was felt on the map of taste buds? Either way it filled your mouth, threatening to swallow you whole. You could tell her. You could tell her and the wedding would be off and you would go home with nothing but a bruised ego and a foreclosure on the way.

But that option also left Bob heartbroken. It would leave you heartbroken, too. Because as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were falling for Bob Floyd, all over again.

“I love him,” you said simply. This time, the truth was sweet. A rush of rainbow on your tongue. A fizzy, familiar feeling. Warmth. “I always have.”

“I’ve watched Floyd go through a lot,” Phoenix said, her dark eyes never leaving yours. “But if this is what breaks him, I’m not sure there’s going to be a way to glue him back together. So don’t break his heart, Haley. He has a big one. Too big. He loves too much and too fast and too well. So God, don’t hurt him.”

“I won’t,” you whispered.

***

“You want deviled eggs as an appetizer?” You stared at Bob, mouth agape.

He nodded. “They’re my mom’s specialty.”

“Oh. That’s um…”

Bob laughed. “You can veto, Haley. It’s your wedding, too.”

“Thank God,” you whispered. “I’m sorry, but veto.”

“Are your parents flying up?” he asked.

“Um, no, they’re not.” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your parents weren’t really involved in your life anymore. That no one besides Calvin even knew you were in San Diego. That the bakery was failing. That you were going to marry Bob to solve all of your problems. “Grandma Lee is coming though.”

You had called her the night before and explained that you were getting married. You hadn’t invited her: that she had done herself.

If my only granddaughter is getting married, I need to see it with my own eyes, she had said. When you had protested, she added, Do you want the money or not?

Bob frowned. “Grandma Lee, really? I thought you two didn’t get along.”

You shrugged. “That was a long time ago, Bobby.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

The two of you were silent for a moment. You felt sweat start to prickle at the base of your neck, between your breasts. For a few days, Bob had ridden the high of a successful mission once they were back on land. It was that euphoria that had colored everything, that had made him agree to the marriage. But you worried that once those rosy glasses faded, he would realize how obscene it was to marry a complete stranger. Someone he barely knew.

He cleared his throat. “Want to go out for dinner? I was thinking Mexican.”

“I think we should have sex.”

Bob looked like he was choking. Every inch of his face went pink and then a deep red, cheeks puffed out, eyes wide.

You actually leaned forward, pressing one hand to his leg in concern. “Bobby? Are you OK?”

It took a second, but Bob let out his breath, blue eyes still searching yours frantically. “What did you just say?”

You removed your hand, anxiety settling into the swell of your stomach. “I mean, we’re getting married,” you whispered. “Shouldn’t we at least do it once?”

“Peanut,” Bob whispered, his voice rough and sandy and hitting every note perfectly so that goosebumps rose on your arms and legs. “I’ve thought about making love to you a million times.”

“But?”

He shook his head slowly. “That’s what I want, honey. I want it to be special. Not something we do to get it out of the way. I want you to want it. I want this to be the last time someone new undresses you for the first time.” Bob leaned in, trailing one thumb over the corner of your mouth, down your cheek, fingertips sliding to the tops of your breasts, grazing the exposed skin where your shirt stopped. “I don’t want anyone else to ever touch you like this,” he murmured. “You’re mine, Peanut.”

“Bobby,” you whispered, gripping both sides of his face with your smaller palms. “I’ve always been yours.”

And then your lips were on his, one of your legs slung over his lap until you were straddling him, the heat of Bob’s body burning against yours, his hands groping greedily over your back, pulling your hips flush with his, a small, pathetic whine exiting his lips as his hips tilted up to meet yours. “Haley,” he rasped, pulling back, lips pink and raw. “Honey.”

“Hmm?”

“Let me take you out,” he whispered. “Not Mexican food on a couch. Not pizza on the floor or beer at the beach. A real date. Let me take you home and make love to the woman who is going to be my wife.”

You leaned back, threading your fingers through the hair that was curling up at the tops of his ears. “OK, Bobby,” you replied softly. “You have a deal.”

“That’s the first time I’ve said that,” he said.

“Said what?”

“My wife.” He smiled. “It sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, watching the light twinkle in his eyes and feeling a sadness sweep over your organs., “it does.”

***

“Peanut?” Bob’s voice was far away on the phone. “Are you there?”

“I’m here,” you said, standing in front of the mirror, smoothing down the sides of your dress. “Where are you? Our reservations are in twenty minutes.”

“Honey, I’m sorry.” There was a loud bang in the background. “Flight emergency. Bradshaw and I got called back to base.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t help the disappointment flooding every single one of your pores. You looked around the room at the candles you had bought, and the bag filled with tissue paper on the dresser that had a new set of lingerie in it, specifically for later that night. There was also an entire can of whipped cream in the fridge and a bottle of prosecco. “That’s OK.”

“It’s not,” he said. “That’s why Phoenix is on her way to pick you up.”

“Oh, Bobby, I’m not really in the mood to go out without you.”

“Haley? Sorry the connection is terrible. Listen, I have to go up in the air, I’ll text you when I’m grounded. Bye!” The line went dead. You sighed, kicking off your heels, tossing the phone on the bed just as the doorbell rang, two harsh dings followed by a loud knock.

“Fuck, coming!” You practically tripped on your way to the door, tossing it open, a frown lacing your features. “Jake?”

In the doorway, Jake grinned, white teeth blinding against his tan. He leaned one hand against the door frame. “Hi Princess. Grab some shoes.”

You shook your head, walking inside, and Jake followed you, shutting the door softly. “Not in the mood, Hangman. I’m just going to wait until Bobby gets home.”

He chuckled and you turned around with a frown. “Sweetheart,” he drawled, “it’s a trap. This is your bachelorette party. Now put on some shoes and get that fine ass in the car. Phoenix is waiting for us.”

“Bachelorette party?”

“Didn’t think we could let you get married without one final night of debauchery, did you?” he asked. “Shoes, Nichols. Purse. Condoms if you’re feeling frisky.”

You groaned, heading into the bedroom and slipping on your stilettos, grabbing your small shoulder bag before reappearing in the hallway. Jake was nowhere to be seen. You rounded the corner into the kitchen where Jake had the fridge open, his head stuck inside.

He straightened up, holding out the can of whipped cream with a raised eyebrow. “Making pie?”

“Fuck off,” you muttered and he laughed, placing the can back in the fridge and closing the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jake replied, holding open the door. “After you, Mrs. Floyd.” Your heart skipped a beat. You looked up at Jake, eyes wide. For a second, the two of you stood in silence in the doorway to Bob’s house, practically frozen. You were worried Jake could see the reservation in your features.

And then it passed. You stepped out the door into the breezy evening air. “I’m going to ask you one favor.”

“I make no promises.”

“No shots with gross names like blow job or slippery nipple.”

Jake cackled, opening the passenger door for you. “It’s your night. We’ll play by your rules. At least, to start.”

You slid into the seat of his Jeep and groaned.

***

Charleston was bachelorette capital, aside from Nashville, so you were more than familiar with the flocks of women parading down King Street in pink sashes and swaying to the beat of invisible pop songs.

What you hadn’t expected was your own bachelorette party to be made up of five aviators, four of which were men. Coyote, Hangman, Rooster and Payback all sat at a table wearing pink furry boas drinking margaritas while Phoenix did a lap on stage with one of the drag queens.

“You’re next,” Bradley said, tipping his head toward the stage.

You groaned. “Absolutely not.”

Phoenix climbed off the stage, brushing back her dark hair, not an ounce of sweat on her face. “Come on, Princess, you’re the bride, it’s a must.”

“I’m so going to rat on you guys to Bobby!” you shrieked as a man dressed as Dolly Parton dragged you onto the stage. The brightness of the lights hit you just as the dagger’s cheers filled the air.

“Hello Darlin’,” Dolly said, thrusting a microphone in your face. “Your friend over there said you’re a bride-to-be, is that right?”

You scowled down at Phoenix who cheered shamelessly. “Yes.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” “Haley.”

“And what’s your fiance's name?”

“Bobby.”

“Well, dear, I think we need to sing a song for Bobby in that case.” She took a deep breath. “If I should stay // Well I would only be in your way.”

Dolly pressed the microphone beneath your chin. Somehow the words floated out of your mouth as the cheers from the squad grew. Even the heat of the lights softened and you found yourself swaying with the music. For the first time in a long time, there was a courage that bubbled to the surface. Maybe it was the two Long Island iced teas that Phoenix had poured down your throat. Or maybe it was the fact that despite the circumstances, you knew that Bob Floyd was the one.

Out of everyone, it was Bradley who got so drunk that the six of you were thrown out of the club. That’s how you ended up at Phoenix’s house at three in the morning eating cheeseburgers on the floor wearing a sequined ball gown she had pulled out of her closet and insisted you wear while Payback tried uselessly to scrub the pink paint off of his chest that read Bride Tribe in loopy lettering.

“It’s not coming off,” Payback whined, tossing another crumpled paper towel on the ground in a huff.

Jake cackled. “Told you not to write it so big, Nix.”

Phoenix popped a french fry into her mouth and then laid back, head resting against Jake’s thigh where he sat pressed up against the couch. “He deserves it. Remember when he puked at my thirtieth?”

“Don’t say puke,” Bradley moaned, looking slightly green around the gills.

“Party pooper,” Phoenix tutted.

“What if when I have a baby it comes out wearing glasses?” you asked, the drinks finally hitting you.

“Have to have sex to get pregnant.”

“Phoenix!”

“Oh shit.” She rolled over and buried her face against the shaggy rug. “Sorry!”

Jake grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Wait, you and Floyd haven’t banged yet?”

You groaned, tossing yourself against the floor next to Phoenix and kicking her with one bare foot.

“That’s excellent,” he muttered, practically to himself as Bradley scuttled onto his knees, stumbling up into a semi jog toward the toilet. The sound of the door slamming was followed immediately by violent sounds and you winced.

“Fuck,” Payback said, shaking his head. “That’s on you, Nix.”

“Why am I to blame for everything?” Phoenix demanded. “It’s Haley’s bach party, she’s the instigator!”

“Oh my God,” you said, shaking your head. “I see why Bobby likes you so much.”

“I see why he loves you,” she replied, brown eyes wide. You were stunned. Natasha was many things. The life of the party. Fearless, bordering on reckless. Demanding, in the best way. Formidable. But this was the first time she had shown a sliver of approval. It radiated through your body like microwave rays. “I mean it,” she added.

“Thank you.”

Just then, your phone rang on the coffee table. You reached for it, pulling it down as Bob’s contact flashed on the screen. “Haley?”

“Hi,” you whispered, standing up and stumbling into Phoenix’s room at the end of the hall. You sat down on the edge of her bed, closing your eyes. The room was spinning. That was worse. You opened them again, wider, the yellow light from the lamp burning your retinas. God, you needed a taco.

“Just wanted to make sure you got home OK,” Bob said softly.

“I’m with Phoenix and the team.”

“I know,” Bob replied. “I thought it would be nice.”

You frowned. “This was your idea?”

“I wanted you to have a fun time,” Bob said quietly. “Something different, a little out of the ordinary. Life is serious, Haley. But you don’t have to be. Not everything is life or death.”

Bob’s words forced tears to spring at the corner of your eyes. It wasn’t the tequila and it wasn’t the impending hangover. It was the fact that even in your drunken haze, you knew you weren’t good enough for Bob Floyd. A man who cared so much, so deeply. A man who would lay down his life for yours without thinking.

The man of your dreams.

“Bobby,” you whispered, the truth sour at the tip of your tongue, begging to be spilled.

“Get some rest, Peanut,” he said quietly and you swallowed the truth back into the bitter pit of your stomach. “I’ll pick you up in the morning, OK?”

“Alright.”

He paused, but the line didn’t go dead. You sucked in a breath. There were two things that you and Bob had yet to do as adults. The first was obvious: have sex. The second, less so.

You had yet to say you loved each other.

You did. That was, without a doubt, the truth in a sea of lies. You had loved Bob Floyd since you were a little girl in the low country. You had never really stopped. But it felt different, to say it now. When so much was riding on the two of you. When the future was almost within grabbing distance.

“Goodnight, Bobby,” you murmured.

He sighed. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You flopped back against the bed, clutching your phone to your chest. As you closed your eyes, the light beyond your eyelids started to swirl.

The last thing that crossed your mind before you passed out into a drunken delirium was how devastated Bob was going to be when everything was said and done.

And how broken you would be, too.

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little-desi-historian · 1 month ago

Text

A listing of 18th Century slang compiled by Leon Bienkowski and posted to the Revlist in 11 installments–last posting in June, 2000

A listing of 18th Century slang compiled by Leon Bienkowski and posted to the Revlist in 11 installments–last posting in June, 2000:

“The terms listed below were mostly gleaned from Partridge’s Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English. There is a bit of a nautical bent to this list because of my own peculiar specialty, but there should be plenty of amusing and useful terms for everyone.

Your underly industrious servant,

Lee Bienkowski”

Abbess - a woman who is a brothel keeper

Abraham-sham - a feigned illness

Academician - a whore

Cast up one's accounts - to vomit

Admiral of the Blue - a publican

Admiral of the Narrow Seas - a drunk who vomits into a neighbor's lap

Adrift - discharged

Adzooks! - an expletive

Air and exercise - a flogging at the cart's tail

Akerman's hotel - Newgate prison

All Nations - a mixture of drinks from unfinished bottles

Amen-curler - a parish clerk

Amidships - the belly

Anatomy - a very skinny person

Bring one's ass to an anchor - sit down

Anne's fan - thumbing one's nose

Talk like an apothecary - talk nonsense

Apple-dumpling shop - a woman's bosom

Hang an arse - to hold back

Arse upward - in good luck

Ask bogy - an evasive reply

Avast! - Stop!

Not to know B from a bull's foot - to be ignorant

Bacon-faced - full-faced

Bacon-fed - fat and greasy

Empty the bag - to tell everything

Heavy baggage - women and children

Bagpipe - a long-winded talker

Bailed man - a man who has bribed the press gang for immunity

Baked – exhausted

Banbury story – nonsense

Bark at the moon - to agitate uselessly

Barnacles – spectacles

Barrel fever - ill health caused by excessive drinking

To grin like a basket of chips - to grin broadly

Bear - a very gruff person

Beer-garden jaw - rough or vulgar language

Bring to one's bearings - cause to see reason

Drink like a beast - to drink only when thirsty

Beau-Nasty - finely dressed but dirty

To go up a ladder to bed - to be hanged

Beef-head – idiot

Beggar-maker - a publican

Belly-gut - greedy, lazy person

Bender - a sixpence

Bird-spit - a small sword

Bit of red - a soldier

Black arse - a kettle

Black cattle - a parson

Give a bottle a black eye - empty a bottle

Blashy - rainy weather

Blood and 'ounds! - an exclamation

Blue as a razor - extremely blue

Blue stocking - a learned woman

Blue tape – gin

Shift one's bob - to move or go away

Bog orange - a potato

To marry old boots - to marry another man's mistress

Bosom friend - a body louse

To have some guts in one's brains - to be knowledgeable

Brandy-face - a drunkard

Brattery - a nursery

In bad bread - in a disagreeable situation

Break-teeth words - words hard to pronounce

Gold bridge - an easy and attractive means of escape

To be stabbed with a Bridgeport dagger - to be hanged

Broganeer - one with a strong Irish accent

Brown cow - a barrel of beer

Brown George - ship's biscuit

Buck fitch - an old lecher

Like bull beef - big and grim

Bull calf - a big clumsy fellow

Bull's eye - a crown piece (5 shillings)

Bung one's eye - drink heartily

Bung upwards - on his face

Butter-bag - a Dutchman

Buttock-ball - a dance attended by prostitutes

Calfskin fiddle - a drum

Cant a slug into your breadroom! - have a drink!

Caper - to be hanged

Captain Copperthorn's crew - all officers

Captain Grand - a haughty blustering man

Captain Tom - leader of a mob

Cat-sticks - thin legs

Caterpillar - a soldier

Caulker - a dram

Chalk - to strike someone's face

Chatter-broth – tea

Christened by a baker – freckled

Cinder-garbler - a female servant

Cite stage - the gallows

A house of civil reception - a brothel

Clapper-claw - to thrash someone soundly

Clicker - one who shares out the booty

Closh - Dutch sailors

Coach wheel - a crown piece

Cock and pie! - a mild oath

Coffee-house - a water-closet

Cold cook - an undertaker

Comb-brush - a lady's maid

Comb one's head - to scold

House of commons - a privy

Condiddle - to steal

Conveyancer - a thief

Cool crape - a shroud

Corinth - a brothel

Make a great harvest of a little corn - much ado about nothing

Corporation - a large belly

Cotswold lion - a sheep

Country-put - a silly rube

Covent Garden ague – VD

Crab lanthorn - a peevish fellow

Crinkums – VD

Crown-office - the head

Cucumber - a tailor

Cut throat - a dark lantern

Swear like a cutter - swear violently

The dam of that was a whisker - a great lie

Dangle in the sheriff's picture-frame - to be hanged

Dasher - showy harlot

Drunk as Davy's sow - very drunk

Deadly nevergreen - the gallows

The devil among the tailors - a row or disturbance

Devil-drawer - a bad artist

The Devil may dance in his pocket - he is penniless

Diddle – gin

Gone to the Diet of Worms - be dead and buried

Dilly - a coach

Dog Booby - an awkward lout

Enough to make a dog laugh - very funny

Dog-vane - a cockade

Dog's portion - a lick and a smell

Dog's soup – water

Go dot and carry - a person with a wooden leg

Double Cape Horn - be cuckolded

Roby Douglas with one eye and a stinking breath - the breech

Draggle-tail - a nasty, dirty slut

Draws straws - to feel sleepy

Drury Lane vestal - a whore

Duke of limbs - a tall awkward fellow

Dull-swift - a stupid fellow

Die dunghill - die cowardly

Drunk as an emperor - regally drunk

Dustman - a dead man

Dutch concert - everyone plays or sings a different tune

Dutch feast - the host gets drunk before the guests

Earwig - a malicious flatterer

Ensign-bearer - a drunkard

Eternity box - a coffin

Expended – killed

To have fallen down and trodden upon one's eye - to have a black eye

Hove no-one's face but one's own - to be penniless

Facer - a glass full to the brim

Make faces - to beget children

Faggot - a man hired to appear on a muster-roll

Fallen away from a horse load to a cart load - to become fat

Fantastically dressed - very shabby

Fegary - a prank

Fiddler's money - all small change

Fiddlestick's end – nothing

Finger-post - a clergyman

Fire a gun - introduce a subject unskillfully

To have been fed with a fire shovel - to have a big mouth

Fish-broth - salt water

Flag of defiance - a drunken roisterer

Flag of distress - the cockade of a half-pay officer

Flap with a fox tail - a rude dismissal

Flapdragon – VD

Flash the gentleman - pretend to be a gentleman

Flash it away - show off

Flats and sharps – weapons

Flawed – drunk

Flay the fox – vomit

Flump - an abrupt or heavy fall

Fly in a tar box - nervously excited

Foreman of the jury - one who monopolizes a conversation

Foul a plate - dine with someone

Frenchified - infected with VD

Frig-pig - a fussy trifler

Froglander - a Dutchman

Full as a goat - very drunk

Fustilugs - a dirty slattern

Gallied - hurried, vexed or over-fatigued

Gallows – enormous

Game pullet - a young whore

Gammon – nonsense

Gardy-loo - Look out! (Garde l’eau)

Gaskins - wide breaches

Gentleman in red - a soldier

Gentleman's companion - a louse

Melancholy as a gib cat – dispirited

Give one's head for washing - to submit to be imposed upon

Glass-eyes - person wearing spectacles

Glorious - ecstatically drunk

Glue-pot - a parson

God permit - a stage coach

Golden grease - a bribe

To find fault with a fat goose - grumble without cause

Play old gooseberry - play the devil

Gospel-shop - a church

Gotch-gutted - pot-bellied

Grapple-the-rails – whiskey

Green-bag - a lawyer

Greenwich goose - a Greenwich Hospital pensioner

The cat's uncle gringog - a grinning idiot

Groggified – tipsy

Ride grub - ill-tempered

Guinea-gold – dependable

In the gun – tipsy

Gundiguts - a fat pursy fellow

Gut-foundered - extremely hungry

Half an ounce - a half crown

Half seas over - half drunk

Hand like a foot - clumsy handwriting

Hang-gallows look - a villainous appearance

Hanktelo - a fool

Swallow a hare - to get exceedingly drunk

Under hatches – dead

Young hemp - a graceless boy

Hempen bridle - a ship's rigging

Hen-frigate - a ship bossed by the captain's wife

Herring-gutted - tall and very thin

To be on the high ropes - be very angry

Study the history of the four kings - to play cards

Old hock - stale beer

Hog in armor - a finely dressed lout

To drive one's hogs to market - to snore

Holiday - a spot left unpainted

It's all honey or all turd with them - they're either friends or bitter enemies

Off the hooks – peevish

Hopper-arsed - large bottomed

Send for a horse ladder - send on a fool's errand

Horse's meal - food without drink

Irish apricot - a potato

Irrigate - take a drink

Itchland – Scotland

Jack Adams - a fool

Jack in an office - an imperious petty official

Jack of legs - an unusually tall person

Jack Weight - a fat man

Jakes - a privy

Jaw-me-down - a very talkative fellow

Die like Jenkin's hen - die unmarried (Scottish)

Have been to Jericho - be tipsy

Jerrymumble - to shake

Going to Jerusalem - to be drunk

Jimmy Round - a Frenchman (from Je me rends)

Be laid up in Job's dock - be treated in hospital for VD

You are Josephus Rex - you're joking

Kerry security - breath the oath and keep the money

Kicksees – breeches

Kill-devil – rum

One of King John's men - a small man

Clip the King's English - to be drunk

Knob - an officer

Knock-down - strong liquor

Laced mutton - a whore

Ship the white lapel - be promoted from the ranks

Lazy as the tinker who laid down his budget to fart - very lazy

Cut one's leg - become drunk

Lay one's legs upon one's neck - run away

Lie with a latchet - tell a great lie

Light-timbered – weak

A line of the old author - a dram of brandy

Little house - a privy

Live lumber - passengers in a ship

Live stock - body vermin

Looking glass - a chamber pot

Lotman - a pirate

Louse-land – Scotland

Lumping pennyworth - a great bargain

Mab - to dress carelessly

Mag – chatter

Maltoot - a sailor

Man-a-hanging - a person in difficulties

Married to Brown Bess - enlisted in the army

Mauled - exceedingly drunk

Make mice-feet of - destroy utterly (Scottish)

Milk the pigeon - attempt the impossible

Load of mischief - a wife

Who put that monkey on horseback without tying his tail? - a very bad horseman

Monkey's allowance - more rough treatment than money

Mopus - a dull, stupid person

Morris - to decamp

Mourning shirt - a dirty shirt

Look like God's revenge against murder - look very angry

Eat one's nails - do something foolish

Navel-tied - to be inseparable

Born on Newgate steps - of criminal extraction

Nip-cheese - a purser

Dead as a nit - quite dead

Make a bridge of someone's nose - pass the bottle past someone

He numbers the waves - he's wasting time

Oaken towel - a cudgel

Give one his oatmeal - to punish

Off the hooks – crazy

Old Robin - an experienced person

Open lower-deckers - to use foul language

Overshoes, over boots – completely

Take the owl - become angry

Paddy-whack - an Irishman

Cut's one's painter - send a person away

Palette - a hand

Paper-skull - a fool

Parleyvoo - the French language

Parson Palmer - one who slows passing the bottle by talking

Make a pease-kill - to squander lavishly (Scottish)

Penny lattice-house - a low ale-house

To drop off the perch - to die

Peter-gunner - a bad shot

Peter Lug - one who drinks slowly

Pintle-merchant - a whore

Piper's wife - a whore

Tune one's pipes - begin to cry

Piss more than one drinks - said of a braggart

Pitt's picture - a bricked up window

When the plate-fleet comes in - when I get my fortune

Plump currant - in good health

Pontius Pilate - a pawn broker

Popper - a pistol

Prattle-broth – tea

Princod - a plump, round person (Scottish)

Alter the property - disguise oneself

Prow - a bumpkin

Public ledger - a whore

Pudding-bellied - very fat

Pump ship – urinate

Punch-house - a brothel

Rabbit hunting with a dead ferret - a pointless undertaking

Rag-water - bad booze

Rammaged - tipsy (Scottish)

Rapping – perjury

Red-letter man - a Catholic

Remedy-critch - chamber pot

Repository – a jail

Rib-roast - to thrash

Ride as if fetching the midwife - to go in haste

Ride the forehorse - to be early

Cry roast meat - boast of one's good fortune

Roast-meat clothes - holiday clothes

Rocked in a stone kitchen - a little weak-minded

Rogue in spirit - a distiller

Royal image - a coin

Rum gagger - one who tells false sea stories of hardship

Loose in one's rump – wanton

Rusty guts - a blunt, surly fellow

Buy the sack - become tipsy

Saddle the wrong horse - lay blame on the wrong person

Saddle one's nose - wear spectacles

Salamugundy - a cook

Salt eel - a thrashing with a rope's end

Sandy - a Scotsman

Sauce – VD

Sawney - a Scotsman

Sawny - to whine

Scald - infect with VD

Scandal-broth – tea

Scarlet horse - a hired horse

School of Venus - a brothel

Scotch casement - a pillory

Sea-crab - a sailor

Sea-lawyer - a shark

Settler - a parting drink

Shab-rag - very worn

Shake a cloth in the wind - be hanged

To have been dipped in the Shannon - to be very forward

Shapes - a name given an ill-made man

Keep sheep by moonlight - hang in chains

Sheep's head - a very talkative person

Shifting ballast - soldiers aboard ship

Shiners – money

Make children's shoes - to be occupied with trivia

Shreds - a tailor

Shut-up house - land headquarters of a press gang

Sick of the idles - a very lazy person

Silver-cooped - deserting for the merchant service

Sky-blue – gin

Snabbled - killed in battle

Smart as a carrot - very smartly dressed

Go a snail's gallop - move very slowly

Soldier's bottle - a large bottle

Solo player - a very bad musician

Sot-weed – tobacco

The Sovereign's parade - the quarterdeck of a man-of-war

Spanish trumpeter -a braying donkey

Spoil pudding - a long-winded preacher

Squire of the placket - a pimp

Stiff-rump - a haughty person

Take a stink for a nosegay - be very gullible

Stoupe - to give up

Strip-me-naked – gin

Sunburnt - having many children

Surly boots - a grumpy person

Surveyor of the highway - a reeling drunk

In deadly suspense – hanged

Keep a swannery - to boast

Purser's swipes - small beer

Swizzle – liquor

Tallow-breeched - having a large bottom

Tears of tankard - liquor stains on a waistcoat

Tea-voider - a chamberpot

Thornback - an old maid

Three skips of a louse - worth little or nothing

Tickle-pitcher - a drinking buddy

Tiff - thin or inferior liquor

Tilly-tally – nonsense

Tilter - a small sword

Swill like a tinker - drink immoderately

Make dead men chew tobacco - keep a false muster

Tol-lol - pretty good

Tongue enough for two sets of teeth - a very talkative person

Blast your toplights! - Blast your eyes!

Topping man - a rich man

Pay one's debts with the topsail - run off to sea leaving unpaid debts

Tripes and trillabubs - nickname for a fat man

Trunkmaker-like - more noise than work

Untwisted – ruined

The Urinal of the Planets – Ireland

Vaulting school - a brothel

W, X, Y, Z

As wise as Waltham's calf - very foolish

Wamble - an uneasiness in the stomach

War-caperer - a privateer

Water bewitched - weak beer

Water in one's shoes - a source of annoyance

You have been to an Irish wedding - you have a black eye

Whigland – Scotland

Whisk - an impertinent fellow

Whister-clister - a cuff on the ear

Whither-go-ye - a wife

Wife in water colors - a mistress

Windy – conceited

Wrapt in warm flannel – drunk

Yea-and-Nay man - a Quaker

Znees - frost

Source. Further reading. regency. hardcover edition.

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noname-nonartist · 5 months ago

Note

I’ve been a fan of Project Sekai for about 6 months and just recently watched Jujutsu Kaisen so you can imagine how your AU has taken over my brain. I want to hear as many ideas as you have of it, even if it’s an unorganized word vomit post. :)

Ho-Ho-Hooooo!

This might gonna be my longest post yet, since I have A LOT ideas with this AU! >:Dc

(More under the cut~)

PJSK+JJK AU IDEAS

Okay! To not make this too long (hehe it will be super long tho kek), I’ll just talk about some of the jjk characters past and some small neat facts within this AU instead! The characters Arc stuff that I have planned can be for a later post (if asked ;3c)~

Let’s start with our favorite pink-haired cinnamon roll… Yuuji!!!! >w<

Yuuji Itadori

DOB: 3/20 School: Kamiyama High School

Height: 173 cm School Year: Class 1-C

Hobbies: Karaoke, Watching TV, and Impersonations

Specialty: Cooking (and any Physical Sports/Actives but he doesn’t care too much about that)

Fav Food: Rice bowl with food on top and noodles

Least Fav Food: None

Dislikes: Science and Math subjects (the numbers be sort get mixed up in his head, relatable ngl lol)

As ya can see in this post I did a while back, that Yuuji lived a mostly normal life with his grandfather, Wasuke, at Sendai City. He never really knew much about his parents, he only have some small memories of his father before he one day left for some unknown reason.

Shortly after Wasuke passed away, Yuuji was suddenly contacted by a group of people he has never met before. The group of people told him that they all are his half-brothers due to all of them sharing the same parent. The Oldest, Choso, has been trying to contact and unite all of his half siblings and offer Yuuji to come live with them in Tokyo.

Yuuji, with the last wish from his grandfather of avoided dying alone, decided to move to Tokyo and try to connect with all of his half siblings.

While he attends to Kamiyama, he shortly became friends with Akito Shinonome after they bonded over their struggles with science and math class. Yuuji also quickly became friends with Nobara Kuguisaki when she transferred to the school.

—————————————————————————

Nobara Kugisaki

DOB: 8/7 School: Kamiyama High School

Height: 160 cm School Year: Class 1-C

Hobbies: Shopping and Playing video games

Speciality: Fashion Designing

Fav Food: Trendy Foods and Watermelons

Least Fav Food: Lightly pickled vegetables

Dislikes: Being Dehydrated

Nobara used to lived in a small village within Iwate with her grandmother. Growing up she was outcasted within her village due to her more outspoken and brash. Her only friends as a child were Fumi and Saori, she especially looked up to Saori as an older sister figure. Saori was a young teenager that moved into Nobara’s hometown for a while and befriended Nobara. However, Saori moved back to Tokyo due to the village discrimination towards her and her family, which deeply saddened Nobara and deepened her hatred for her village even more.

When Nobara’s mother moved to Tokyo due to her job, Nobara quickly moved in with her to escape her village life and in hopes to see Saori again.

Nobara became friends with Yuuji and Akito once she transferred into Kamiyama, she pretends that she doesn’t care for them but deep down she very much do and appreciate their friendship.

—————————————————————————

Megumi Fushiguro

DOB: 12/22 School: Kamiyama High School

Height: 175 cm School Year: Class 1-B

Hobbies: Reading Non-Fiction Books

Speciality: Tuning people out

Fav Food: Anything that goes well with Ginger

Least Fav Food: Paprika and any Sweet side dish

Dislikes: People

As a child, Megumi lived in poor condition with his step sister, Tsumiki, after Megumi’s father left one day and Tsumiki’s mother died shortly afterwards. As a way to vent his frustration and feelings he would make music and post them online, under the alias PLATO. One day, around the age of 7, one of his music had gone viral and Rising Pop-Star Gojo Satoru saw it and decided to contact Megumi. Once Gojo saw Megumi and Tsumiki’s living condition, he offered to financially support them in condition that Megumi compose the music for his songs.

Megumi agreed and since then Megumi composed for Gojo and his fame reached Worldwide due to his music. However the constant stress of making viral songs and unresolved emotions of his abandonment caused Megumi to be constantly be depressed and moody. The build up reach it peak in his last year of Junior High where he snap at Tsumiki one day, creating a sibling argument that cause Tsumiki to leave the house for the day. However the next day, Tsumiki nearly died and was put into a coma after a car accidentally hits her as she was walking across the streets.

This trauma caused immense guilt within Megumi, and caused him to focus even more on his music in order to continue financially support his sister medical care.

Megumi mostly keeps to himself during school, rarely interacting with others and always has his headphones on during breaks. He is however within a music video club he started so he can mostly work on his music after school since he feels uncomfortable working at home after the incident. One day hears Yuuji’s singing and was instantly impressed and awed, thus asked him to join the club.

—————————————————————————

Junpei Yoshino

DOB: 8/13 School: Kamiyama High School

Height: 165 cm School Year: Class 2-A

Hobbies: Watching Horror Movies and Recording them in VHS

Speciality: Knows a lot about Marine life, specifically Jellyfish

Fav Food: Crab omelet on rice

Least Fav Food: Herring Roe

Dislikes: Bullies and Musicals

Junpei lives with his mother, Nagi Yoshino, after both of his parents filed a divorce. However this happened when he was really young, so he has no recollection of his father, only hearing that he was a terrible person.

Growing up, Junpei was outcasted for being a child of a single mother and was considered weird for his interests in horror and the supernatural. However, his mother reassured him that he’s not weird for his interest and she even apologized to him for being a single mother. Junpei tears up and told her it’s not her fault, in which Nagi just smiles gently and says that he’s such a good son.

During his first year in High School, he was getting bullied by some of his classmates. One day, the bullies were about to take things too far, until Rui Kamishiro stopped them and scared them off by spouting out possible inventions he can test on the bullies.

Junpei saw Rui again in the rooftop when he was skipping class, and so they just both hangout in the rooftop as Junpei listen to Rui ramble about possible theatrical shows and musicals. Junpei not really talking much, but Rui didn’t mind for he understood.

In the middle of the year, Junpei’s mother passed out one day due to stress and was sent to the hospital. The next day, bullies took his favorite books and ripped it up. When he went to the rooftop after school, Rui was about to show Junpei the new outfit that his friend Mizuki made for him, until Rui noticed Junpei’s upset face and asked what’s wrong.

In which Junpei snapped and yells at Rui and complains how he always talk his “dumb” musical and “weird” gadgets, and accuses Rui for always talking about himself and knows nothing about him. And in a fit of his rage, he took Rui’s costume and start ripping it up as he yells at Rui to leave him alone.

Junpei quickly realized his mistake, but before he could say anything Rui just told him to leave in a cold voice.

His mother recovered and was able to return home safety (she even officially quit drinking and smoking so something like that won’t happen again), but Junpei still skipped school due yo the bullies but also due to the guilt of what he did towards Rui.

They then moved to Kamiyama due to his mother getting a better job there, and Nagi encouraged Junpei to attend to Kamiyama High School ensuring things will be better for him now.

Junpei became friends with Tsukasa after seeing his passion for shows reminds him of Rui (not realizing he also goes to the same school too kek~), and became friends with Yuuji one day when he saw Yuuji watching the same niche horror movie he was in the movie theaters.

—————————————————————————

Maki Zenin

DOB: 1/20 School: None/Drop Out

Height: 170 cm School Year: N/A

Hobbies: Working out

Speciality: Fast Reaction Time, making her really good at reaction-based video games

Fav Food: Fast Food/Junk Food

Least Fav Food: High Class Food Dishes

Dislikes: Her Family and Codependent People

Maki live within a finically privileged family with her younger twin sister, Mai, however the Zenin family itself is incredibly toxic and emotionally abusive with the occasional physical abuse (mostly from the father with the mother being a passive complicit). The family has high expectations from both Maki and Mai and often pin the twins against each other. The father especially ridiculed Maki for not being as academically gifted compared to Mai, and constantly tells Maki she’s lazy and not studying enough for school (she actually having good grades despite Maki struggling with dyslexia and dysgraphia, but it’s never enough for the Zenin Family).

One day, near the end of Maki’s last year within Junior High, Maki finally had enough and ran away from home without telling anyone.

Maki has been living on her own working full-time in order to finically support herself on her own. Due to this, she hasn’t contact with her sister, one of the only family members she actually love. She is currently living within Vivid Street with Kinji Hakari and Kirara Hoshi as roommates.

She works as a security guard (she has a fake ID with the help of Kirara because otherwise she would be too young to work as one), and she occasionally have shifts to guard backstages for idol shows, that’s how she met Shizuku during her time with Cheerful*Days.

Maki at first was standoff-ish towards Shizuku’s kindness whenever she would try to talk to her. But Maki slowly warms up to her after seeing Shizuku always working so hard during practice.

As a resident of Vivid Street, Maki tend to go to WEEKEND GARAGE for their affordable coffee and food. Ken Shiraishi (the owner of WEEKEND GARAGE) tend to give her free food and drinks whenever he notice Maki struggling with some money problems before her next paycheck arrives. An Shiraishi, Ken’s daughter, tend to greet her whenever Maki comes in and even remembers her order too.

Maki also have some shift where she would stand guard for some live stage shows within Vivid Street, so he knows of Akito and Toya, but never really actually interacted with them before.

—————————————————————————

Mai Zenin

DOB: 1/20 School: Miyamasuzaka School

Height: 170 cm School Year: Class 2-A

Hobbies: Reacting scenes from her favorite rom-coms movies

Fav Food: Fast Food/Junk Food

Least Fav Food: High Class Food Dishes

Dislikes: Her Family and Independent People

Just like Maki, Mai lives with her toxic and emotionally abusive family.

When Maki ran away from home without even telling her, it hurts her deeply and causes her to be resentful.

Mai’s friends with Momo Nishiyama due knowing each other since childhood thus knowing deeply about Mai’s terrible family environment.

Mai hates Shizuku Hinomori due to her seemingly having a good life compared to her and internally craving for a caring older sister again, but rather than being vulnerable she would rather speak negatively about Shizuku behind her back.

Mai decided to try a pull a prank and put Shizuku’s name in an idol application contest to try and humiliate her. However, she didn’t expect Shizuku to actually win and later be the center of the popular idol group Cheerful*Days. This cause Mai to hate her even more due to jealousy, thus Mai started to spread false harmful rumors on how Shizuku gave the managers “special treatment” in order to become an idol throughout the school.

—————————————————————————

Anddddd that’s all for now! ^w^/

Of course I have way Way WAYYYYYYY more ideas and thoughts about this AU! So if ya guys are ever curious, just shoot me an ask!

And if I’m not constantly mentally exhausted, I might draw something for this AU too! :Dc

Edit: Kasumi, Nanako, and Mimiko are no longer gonna be in the Miya school lol

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 8 months ago

Text

commissions

opening commissions because, after months of applying, I haven't been able to get a job, so here are some guidelines if anyone wants to purchase one. you can send me a dm about what you would like, pay through kofi in my bio, and I will send it to you privately, but with your consent, I might post it (and tag you if you'd like).

i will write:

-> smut, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, dark content - i mostly write smut on here as you can tell (+ some angst and hurt/comfort), so those are my specialties

-> character x reader (afab, amab, f, m, gn), character x character, m/f, m/m, f/f

-> characters from resident evil, detroit become human, heavy rain, disco elysium, life is strange

-> most kinks as long as they're not in my "i will not write" list

-> there are certain things that i would be comfortable writing about, but i need time to research because i'm not as familiar with them e.g. hybrids and a/b/o

-> i will write: dd/lg, noncon, dubcon, stepcest, pseudo-incest, incest, piss, blood, cnc

i will not write: vomit (huge trigger for me, so please do not send any asks about it!), scat, fart play, scent kink, people not bathing as a kink (idk what that's called), tentacles, woundfucking, bestiality, pedophilia, cannibalism

price:

-> 500 words: $3

-> 1k words: $6

-> 3k words: $12

-> 5k words: $18

for shorter works I will need character(s) name(s) and a general idea of what you're looking for in terms of the scenario (certain kink, location, event, etc.). for longer works, I will need more information in terms of plot.

i can finish a short work within a few days (2-3) but a longer work will take me up to a week. If you would like something longer than 5k words, then we can discuss timeframe and pricing privately.

*in terms of resident evil characters, i can write about any characters that appear in the following games: RE1, RE2, RE3, RE4, RE6, RE7, RE8, RE0, Revelations 1&2

#resident evil #detroit become human #disco elysium #heavy rain #chris redfield smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut

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obetrolncocktails · 1 year ago

Text

Deception | Josh Kiszka X Reader | Part 2

Warnings: stalking behavior, gaslighting, anxiety, secrets, angst, lying, alcohol consumption, betrayal, blackmailing, guilt.

Word Count: 4.7K

Author's Note: This series has been heartbreaking, but so fun to write so far....oh, how I love to tear your hearts into itty bitty shreds! MUAHAHA

Summary: Be careful what you write, what you post, and who you know. One wrong move could bear severe consequences.

You weren’t used to functioning with spectators watching you. You couldn’t remain calm and collected in the eyes of others, especially those that you didn’t know. That was Josh’s specialty. His extraverted nature guaranteed ease of conversation with anyone; stranger or friend, Josh excelled at opening himself to them with little to no hesitation. Recently, you had become so guarded and paranoid, turning with every step you took, checking your phone constantly for another threatening text from your stalker. It had been a week, and you’d waited impatiently for the next unsettling message, but it never came. The mystery of it left your gut churning, the secret guilt rising in your throat like corrosive acid. Through the soft tinking of glasses, and Josh’s hand squeezing your thigh, you nursed yourself back into the light dinner conversation, scrambling for the important points of discussion so you could mask around everyone. You pasted on an unbothered expression and cleared your throat, reaching for your glass of wine. You felt Josh’s thumb spin slow, delicate circles into your thigh, and you knew that he was aware of your distance. He turned his gaze to you while the conversation continued and mouthed, “You okay?” You read his lips and nodded, thought the opposite was true.

“I’m fine. My stomach hurts,” You lied, placing your hand on top of his, feeling his thumb move to slide over one of your fingers.

He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your temple, his hand moving to caress the small of your back. “I’m sorry, baby. We can leave in a minute or two, don’t worry.” You nodded, offering another gentle smile. In this restaurant, you felt on display despite the fact that no one in particular seemed to hone in their attention specifically to you. Jake, Jita and Sam were occupied within a discussion that must have been riveting, because Sam seemed to gesture excitedly about every five seconds, while Jake sat leaned forward in his seat, his thumb and forefinger pressed thoughtfully against his lips while Jita reclined back in her chair, chiming in when she saw fit. Danny had excused himself from the table a while ago to take a phone call.

Buzz.

“3998 Hillsboro Pike, Nashville, TN 37215 You look beautiful in that slutty dress, by the way.”

An address. You swallowed, a terrific wave of anxiety sizzling over your body like an encroaching wildfire. You flitted your head upward, peering beyond the table like helpless prey in the scope of a hunting rifle. Pulling up google, you typed in the address. The result appeared:

Santo: Greek, Mediterranean restaurant in the Greek Neighborhood, West Nashville.

Bile surged up your throat and into your mouth, soiling your tastebuds with acrid bitterness. You rose from the table, cringing from the sound your chair made as it scraped at the polished concrete floor.

“I don’t feel good. I’ll be right back,” you sputtered to Josh before quickly turning and rushing away, fully aware that everyone at the table was watching you.

You sheltered yourself inside the private bathroom, blessing the powers from above for granting you this one moment of relief. You forced yourself to breathe deeply, forcing the need to vomit back down your throat. Sitting on the toilet, you pulled the phone out and looked at the text message again.

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you following me?” You pressed send, feeling another rush of adrenaline roll through your body, inducing a thin layer of perspiration to pock the high points of your brow.

“Oh Y/n, you’re not quite as discrete as you think you are. I know who you are because you weren’t exactly hard to find.” You read the text immediately as it arrived, not daring to navigate away from this conversation. They weren’t done tormenting you, it seemed. You watched three dots bounce on your screen for what seemed like an eternity.

*Sent with invisible ink.*

It was a picture.

You hesitantly swiped at the screen, revealing the contents of the image. If you could have slithered and disappeared through the floor drain of this bathroom, you would have. It was a screenshot of your Tumblr page, decked out with scrolling pictures of Josh performing on stage, the main pinned quote on your page a salacious profession of what you would like to do to him if given the chance. At the time, it was innocent. A parasocial ‘what-if’ hyperfixation that sufficed as your escape from the mundanity of everyday life. Now, it had come back to terrorize you and jeopardize the one thing you held most dear. You held fast, preparing another text.

“So you have an old screenshot. So what? I privated my account.”

You waited for a long while, but when the three dots never appeared again, you rose from the toilet and washed your hands, not stopping to dry them. You let your fingertips drip, wiping them on your dress as you stepped back into the bustling dining room.

“We were just about to send a rescue team,” Sam said, turning in his seat. “Thought you got stuck in the toilet.”

“Hey, hey. Leave Y/n alone. The sight of you makes me nauseous too,” Jake retorted slyly. Usually you would have played the game with them both, but this new paranoia weighed you down like black tar, covering your body and soul in invisible filth. You couldn’t look anyone in the eye, especially not Josh. You would have to decide your next move quickly.

“Can I have some water?” You asked quietly to no one in particular, the dryness of your throat producing little more than a croak when you spoke. Jita reached immediately for her glass and poured more water from the carafe, standing up and moving around the table to approach you.

“You don’t look so good, babe,” She said gently, handing over the glass, her brows furrowing with concern as she lifted her hand to your forehead. “You’re not feverish, but you are clammy,” she said, her nurturing instincts taking over. As a medical professional, she knew how to triage, even in the middle of a fine-dining restaurant. You turned as you heard the familiar grinding of a chair against the floor. It shot spears of anxiety into your body. Josh stood up from his seat.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly, quickly folding his cloth napkin and laying it on top of his plate. Side-stepping away from the table, he stepped toward you, his hands immediately finding somewhere on your body to caress, to protect. You’d never felt disgusting before, so ashamed of yourself as if you could taint anyone near with your presence. You cringed when you felt his touch. He was blissfully unaware of the terrible secret you had hidden so well. Until now.

Buzz.

“Wanna know a little secret I’m keeping, too?” Your screen illuminated in your hand, the newest notification sending shivers down your body from the top of your head, to your toes.

“Who’s that?” Josh asked casually, pulling you in and kissing your head as he reached for your purse from your seat, hanging the strap off of his shoulder.

Fuck. He saw the message. You decided to play it off, standing up straight.

“Just my cousin. She’s gossiping about her brother-in-law. If I’m honest, I’m not in the mood to respond.” It was a safe lie.

“Did she get a new phone recently?” He asked, reaching for his wallet and keys, from the table. He finished the final sip of his wine.

“What’s with the third degree?” Sam jutted in, ruffling his long hair with his fingertips. You looked at him with a forced smile.

“She finally got an iphone last week, and changed carriers. I just haven’t put in her contact info in yet.” Josh wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leaning to kiss the side of your head.

“We’re heading out, guys. Jake, if you handle the bill, I’ll pay you back.” Jake nodded and shrugged casually in a ‘I got it,’ manner. “Don’t have much fun without us. Danny,” Josh said, pointing to his brother. “Don’t let this miscreant make bad choices. That’s my job.”

Sam looked around briefly before lifting a middle finger in the air, blowing on it like a smoking pistol. “Dude, you are so lame,” Jake said, turning to the younger pair.

“I’ll take that as a I’ll see you later,” Josh said, squeezing you tighter. “Come on, baby.” He reached down to take your hand in his, and you did, though you felt simultaneously comforted, yet unsettled by it.

***

The drive home was quiet, and Josh let you lean against the window. It was a relief that he knew nothing of the inner turmoil that roiled in your gut. He always seemed like he needed to be touching you; despite the silence in the car, he still proved his loyalty in small, but meaningful ways. His right hand rested on your thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, dragging circles into your skin.

Another vibration ripped through the desperate calm of the drive.

“Not interested in hearing my secret? Oh, I’ll just tell you then! I have your password, and soon I’ll have everything I need for your other related socials. Go ahead and try to log in. I changed the password and email, and re-routed the phone number to my own. Don’t worry, it’s not this one. Your account is safe in my hands. Until it’s not.”

Is this a fucking threat? You thought to yourself.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” You typed, terror sizzling through your bloodstream and into your fingertips. You waited for another long moment, this time staring directly at the screen.

“I want absolutely nothing from you, Y/n. I just want the satisfaction of telling Josh the dirty, pathetic truth of who you are.” You swallowed and looked instinctively at him. He turned his head to you as he approached a stop sign, flipping his hand over for you to take. You echoed his smile, though guilt and mortification roiled in your gut.

“Are you happy?” He asked suddenly, his eyebrows raising softly, his face turning serious.

“Of course I’m happy,” you said, squeezing his hand, intensifying your smile.

“Very good,” He answered softly. “Just checking.” He pulled your looped hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles before proceeding past the octagonal sign.

Stop.

You let the message of the traffic sign flood through your senses like a levee about to break and crumble, the waters destined to destroy anything and everything in its path.

“Leave me the fuck alone, or I’ll call the cops.” You typed with one hand, and looked out of the window at the passing Nashville scenery.

“Do it. You’ll just look incensed to them. No one can find me. I’ve got friends who, with their handiwork, have ensured my anonymity.”

You were trapped. Should you ignore the messages? What would come of them?

“He doesn’t know, does he?” The message chimed through again.

You’ve had enough. You click the info button at the top of the contact bubble and select ‘Block.” Just like that, the imessage bubbles turned green, flooding you with a sense of relief. You sighed heavily.

“Feeling any better?” Josh asked, turning briefly to you as he entered the neighborhood. You swallowed and nodded, feeling the anxiety waning.

“Much,” you admitted.

“Let’s go inside and watch a terrible movie,” he said, pulling into the front yard. “Popcorn, snacks, me-you time.” He reached to scratch at his hair as he turned off the ignition. You turned your head to smile softly at him.

“I’d like that,” you agreed. For the rest of the night, you didn’t receive another text. Sleep drifted back to you easily as you laid beside Josh, his chest rising and falling in an innate, comforting rhythm that willed you to close your eyes and let yourself rest for the first time in over a week.

***

“The party is Wednesday,” Danny said, tilting a cup to his mouth where he stood in your kitchen, tapping the side of the cup to retrieve an ice cube from the bottom. “It’s an odd day for a party, but Josh insisted,” He shrugged. “It’s not the worst idea. The photoshoot for the album is Friday morning,” he explained.

“I still can’t believe that you guys agreed to do album prep on their birthday,” you said, leaning against the kitchen island, popping grapes into your mouth. “They didn’t riot?” Danny shrugged.

“It was the only day to get the entire team together without conflicts. A shit ton of people in the middle of the desert? What could be more fun?” He snorted, reaching to steal one of your grapes.

“We’ll celebrate Jake later that afternoon. You know he wasn’t interested in the whole party thing,” He continued.

You nodded. “For twins, they’re so different,” you chuckled through your nose.

“I grew up with them, Y/n. Trust me, they’re similar in the most annoying ways,” he smirked. “They can be ill-tempered jackasses one moment, and then cracking stupid jokes, laughing their asses off the next.”

You knowingly shook your head. “That’s what makes them artists, right?” You smirked. “Tortured souls make for wonderful art,” you snorted.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, straightening his back, reaching his arms in the air over his head, yawning. “I’m gonna call catering and make sure they have the weird ass food that Josh asked for.”

You popped another grape in your mouth. “Good luck, and make sure to eat before you arrive,” you winked.

“Oh you mean you don’t like tapenade, caviar, and topo chicos?” He said sarcastically.

“When you put it all together like that, I’d rather eat sand,” You admitted, placing the rest of the fruit back into the fridge. “We will be limiting the menu of weird shit.”

Jake grinned as he dialed the number. You could hear the dial-tone through the speaker of the phone as he padded into the next room.

You heard your phone ring in your pocket, but when you fished it out, the call ended. Unknown ID.

“Having a good day with Danny? I heard he’s single too. Maybe you’d want to double dip?” A new text read. Your eyes darted about, through the kitchen window into the spacious, wooded yard. You and Josh didn’t live in a suburban setting. Josh had been smart with this purchase. You had no idea how this person knew you were with Danny. You checked the front driveway for any suspicious activity, but you saw none. Nothing was out of place, and no one roamed about, besides a neighbor who was walking to their mailbox, checking their mail. They were late middle-aged, so immediately you shrugged them off as a plausible suspect.

Fuck. You might have said the word audibly. You practically sprinted around the house, unplugging all of the Ring cameras one by one, making sure to reach inside to yank out the reserve batteries.

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked, confusion knitting his brows together. You could vaguely hear the hold music tittering through his phone speaker.

“I’m being watched,” you snipped, balling your hands in fists, feeling the batteries clack together.

“What?” He asked, his eyes widening.

“Someone is stalking me.” You reached for your phone and showed him the text.

You watched him read the text. “Are you sure it’s not just someone playing a joke on you? I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s Sam being an asshole.” You shook your head instantly.

“No. This is serious. Someone knows things that they shouldn't. They’re threatening me.” You said, instantly wishing you hadn’t opened your mouth about something so vulnerable and sensitive.

“What do you mean?” He asked, hanging up the phone and shoving it in his back pocket. “They know about the album? About the tour?” He asked, trying to conjure up any information he could think of that has been kept secret and was worthy of this much worry.

“No. It’s so much worse than that.” You admitted, feeling the simultaneous need to vomit and cry.

“Did you do something?” He asked softly, stepping toward you. “I mean, did something happen?”

“Well not exactly,” You said, guilt stabbing and prodding from deep within your belly. Nervous sweat broke out on your brow.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently. “You can trust me, Y/n.”

“I don’t think I’m very trustworthy,” you said, an angry edge grating the statement, though you were only angry at yourself and at the unnamed stalker who had conjured back so much forgotten anxiety. “I did something awful to Josh, Danny.”

You already said too much.

“Okay…Did you cheat?” He asked.

“Are you fucking serious? No!” You practically shouted, throwing your hands out defensively.

“Okay, okay, don’t yell at me–” he snipped, echoing your movement as he yanked his palms in front of his body. “What is it, then?”

“I just don’t know how to tell Josh that–” You began, but were cut off promptly as the front door opened and Josh walked through it.

“Tell me what?” He asked with a soft smile. You watched as he pushed the door shut and placed his key fob on the hook beside it.

“Nothing–just a little snag. We don’t want to ruin the surprise, so we can’t tell you, sorry.” Danny said, saving you this once. You cleared your throat, finding it hard to speak.

“We’ll fix it,” You accrued him, offering a small smile that seemed to vanish just as quickly as it appeared.

“What happened?” Josh pressed further, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorway.

“The caterer couldn’t find one of the things on your stupid list.” Danny said, grinning at Josh. “You’ll have to survive with one less…peculiar menu item.” Josh snorted.

“Just as long as everyone’s there and makes it in one piece, It’ll be the perfect day,” Josh said, stepping closer to you, bending and pursing his lips. You tilted your head upward and kissed him softly, feeling the touch of his lips like a stake to the heart. This is wrong. So wrong–and he doesn’t deserve any of it.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” Josh said, suddenly scrambling for his phone. “What time is it?” Pulling it out of his pocket, his eyes widened. “Fuck–I gotta go get mom and dad from the airport! I’ll see you later?” Josh asked you, to which you nodded with a soft smile. He reached to pat Danny on the shoulder before snagging his keys off of the hook and booking it out of the door.

Silence clung to the walls as they seemed to close in around you. Danny looked at you expectantly. You shook your head slowly, pulling your hands up to cover your face.

“What is it, Y/n?” Danny asked, turning to you. “What happened?”

“Why did you do that?” You asked angrily.

“Do what?” He retorted, his face twisting with confusion.

“Why did you lie for me? You don’t even know what I did. I–” You shook your head, your throat tightening with an ache that burned.

“Y/n. I am a safe person to talk to, but I also know that Josh is, as well.”

“I can’t tell him. I absolutely cannot tell him.”

“Tell him what? Just tell me.”

“I need a drink first.” You admitted without a hint of shame, pulling yourself into the kitchen to retrieve the nearest bottle of liquor. You pulled a glass out of the cabinet and poured freely, uncaring of the unreasonable amount of alcohol you were about to drink.

“Y/n…don’t do that,” Danny said, stepping into the kitchen. In a moment of numbness, you lifted the glass to your lips and tilted it back, swallowing back the liquid, tasting the bitterness that assaulted your tastebuds. You wanted to cough and hack, but you resisted the urge, downing every drop. You wiped the excess from your lips and set the glass down, taking a second to breathe deeply. You would have done it again, had Danny not yanked the bottle from the counter.

“Stop!” You spat, reaching up for the bottle, tears springing to your eyes.

“This is not healthy!” He said loudly, battling for dominance over the desperation in your voice. He was tall, and you wouldn’t be able to reach it even if you wanted to.

“There’s always more,” you said, reaching into the cabinets to grab a bottle of tequila, uncorking it and pulling the bottle to your lips.

“Y/n, fucking stop it!” He shouted this time, his voice filling the kitchen with a deafening command. His free hand wrenched the bottle from your grasp, liquid splashing over the rim and landing on the floor at your feet. You couldn’t conjure words to explain yourself or defend your actions, but the alcohol had begun its effects, easing your inhibitions. Uncontrollable sobs wracked your body, your chest heaving as you struggled to take in deep breaths, but every time you did, the choking noises became worse. Danny sat the bottles down onto the kitchen island.

“Hey, hey,” He said as reached for you, tucking your body defensively into his chest. Your body crumpled, and you let yourself fall to the floor, knowing that Danny would protect you on the way down. You cried and cried and cried some more, your face drenched with tears. Danny used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe the tears from your eyes, holding you close and rubbing your back. “It’s okay, Y/n. It will be okay. Will you talk to me?” You heard him almost coo the words, coaxing the truth from you in a safe, nurturing way. You’d already decided that you would tell him, and you hoped that he would keep your secret until you could tell Josh. If he didn’t, it would just be yet another mistake you’d been stupid enough to make. What else did you have to lose?

“I-I,” you began, the sobs stealing your voice from you. You took a second to pull yourself together, pulling away from Danny to sit in front of him with your back against a cabinet door. “I lied to him.”

“You lied?” He asked softly. You nodded, pulling your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs.

“About what?”

“About who I am. I’m not a good person.” You shook your head left and right, sniffling.

“I don’t think that’s true. I’ve known you long enough to know that it’s not true.” You looked up at him, and his eyes softened as he met your gaze.

“But it is true. Danny, I knew who you guys were before I met Josh.” To your surprise, Danny’s expression didn’t change immediately.

“Okay,” he said slowly.

“I let Josh believe I had no idea who he was, when in truth, I knew exactly who he was.” The truth suddenly felt like the heaviest, but lightest thing you’d ever carried before. Simultaneously, a relief swept over your body, while the damning truth still weighed you down like a concrete block tied to your feet.

“Okay, well, we are kinda….”

“Famous?” You asked, finishing his sentence, finding it the tiniest bit amusing just how humble Danny was. He shrugged.

“I had a blog. About you guys. I wrote stories.” You said, continuing. You picked at your nail beds as you dove deeper.

“Okay,” He said again, his eyebrows furrowing, trying to understand. “What kind of stories?”

“You don’t want to know.” You said, covering your face. “You can guess.”

“Oh,” He answered. “I see.”

“But I didn’t know you guys. I didn’t know Josh. I just knew your music…all of it came from my imagination, and now I have a stalker who’s trying to out me to Josh and to the entire fandom…”

“Wait, what?” He asked, sitting up straight.

“I told you,” You said, pulling your phone open to the conversation with the number that you had previously blocked. “I blocked this number, but they keep texting me. Scroll.”

You watched his thumb slide across the screen, stopping when the screenshot of your tumblr page appeared.

“Wow,” he said. You eyed him, and let him continue to read.

“They knew where I was at the restaurant. The exact address.” You watched as he read the text.

“Okay this is fucking creepy,” he said. “Did you report this to the police?”

“What would they do, Danny? There’s no one to connect this to. No names, no nothing. I’m absolutely powerless.”

“Okay, but you blocked them, right?” He asked. You nodded, and reached for your phone.

“I did, but they created another number.” You opened the new text chain, showing him the text you had shown him earlier. “How do they know that you’re here, Danny?” You asked him, knowing he wouldn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know. I didn’t post anything.”

“They’re here. They’ve hacked the cameras….or they’re following me,” you said quietly, taking a second to look up out of the kitchen window at the darkening sky outside. “They’re threatening me.”

“With what?” He asked.

“They’re going to tell Josh. Everyone. I know it.”

“Then what’s the easiest solution?” He asked. “You have to tell him, and be honest about everything.”

You nodded. “I don’t know how to tell him the truth. I can’t watch him fall apart in front of me, Danny.” He shrugged, sighing deeply.

“Josh is sensitive when it comes to personal relationships and with trust. If he loves you like I know he does, he will understand–but only if you tell him.”

You swallowed, feeling the ache in your throat becoming more prominent. A single tear teetered from your lashes, sliding down your cheek. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t,” Danny said, reaching forward toward you, pulling you in again. “He’s in love with you, Y/n. You have no idea. He kissed the top of your head. He’s one of the most understanding and forgiving people I know. He will appreciate you coming to him.”

“The party is tomorrow,” you whined. “I’m going to ruin his party if I tell him right now.”

“Then make the best decision that you can,” he said, pulling you up from the floor. “Let him have a good birthday and tell him afterwards, gently, when you two have a moment together.”

You pulled Danny in for a big hug. “I’m sorry for lying to you, too, Danny.” You hugged him tightly, and he reciprocated, squeezing you him.

“It’s okay. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Please let me be the one to tell Josh,” you pleaded.

“I won’t say a word,” Danny said. “But don’t leave him in the dark, Y/n. I can’t leave my brother in the dark. It’s not fair.”

“I know it isn’t.”

“Do you feel safe here by yourself?” He asked you.

“Not really, but I’ll be okay. They’re not stupid enough to break and enter.” He smirked, reaching for his keys off of the island.

“If you see anything funny, text me.” You nodded, reaching for the counter as wooziness challenged your balance.

***

Josh arrived home later than you had expected, but you assumed that he had been with his parents. “I’m home, honey,” he said, bending to kiss your cheek as you pretended to be asleep, curled up in bed. You opened your eyes, taking a moment to observe the loveliness of his features, knowing that it could very well be the last time you’d see the love in his eyes.

“Come here,” you commanded softly, peeling open the sheets.

You spent that night making love with him, savoring every delicate touch, every kiss. Upon his lips, you’d uttered the words that you knew were true. “I love you.” It was the first time you had said it, and though you’d wished it was said under better, less ultimate circumstances, you wanted him to know.

“I am in love with you, Y/n. I probably have been since that first day in the pasta aisle,” he chuckled. “I love you.” Your chest heaved, and before you could save it, a betraying tear rolled down your cheek, and he saw it. “Awe baby, don’t cry.” He leaned and kissed the wetness away, pulling you to his chest. It was simultaneously the happiest and most heartbreaking moment of your life. By this time tomorrow, it was likely that you’d be the undoing of it all.

***

End of part 2.

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