#you don't have more of a right to this world than anything else in it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonydustx · 2 days ago

Text

Silent treatment

info: pretty self-explanatory I think. Law and reader have a pre-established relationship. I believe I'll soon post a version of Zoro too (it was supposed to be today, but I don't really believe in my ability to review more than one content per day)

pairing: Law x reader

Crossing my fingers and promising to stop writing only about Law

It was nothing new, far from it.

When you started living with Law years ago, you knew that he could occasionally be a little cold. Of course, within the crew itself, during the many days and nights spent underwater, he became a more communicative and accessible person - but sometimes not. That didn't bother you, not at all. At least not until the relationship between subordinate and captain turned into a relationship between two lovers.

He wasn't the clingiest person in the world, and neither were you, but he was still present. Stolen touches during the day, you leaning against his body while you drank with others. All of this was almost trivial to those who saw it and for you, everything was fine. The relationship between the two of you was constantly improving, except for one small fact: communication.

Now, the periods when Law was absent seemed to bother you even more than before and even with some indirect messages from you, he didn't seem to understand (or at least didn't care).

"Law, did you see that book I lent you?" You entered his small office. The brunette was buried in his own notes, lost enough in them to not look in your direction.

"I don't remember, love. Maybe on the bedside table?" He mumbled, distracted.

"No." You limited yourself to answering, hoping that maybe he would give you more hints. "Law!?"

"Hm?"

"Forget it."

You tried not to sound angry. That wasn't even the best word to describe your situation, maybe frustrated would work better.

When you returned to your room, you began to list the pros and cons of all this. Of course, the list of pros was immensely longer when it came to Law, but these lapses of attention still bothered you. An unhealthy idea crossed your mind.

First, you rethought everything you did and excluded part of the things you shared - lunch hours together, possible visits to him during the afternoon and anything else that could make you give in. Now all you had to do was avoid opening your mouth when you were in the same room and wait to see if you would succeed.

The first thing Law noticed was your disappearance. Okay, you were definitely mad that he had lost one of your books, and you were absolutely right. Maybe the fact that you hadn't gone to visit him was because you had found the book and were immersed in reading it.

The second thing was your absence during dinner, and that set off a red alert in his mind. Your absence wasn't physical, which only made the man's situation worse. Before he sat down at the table, your voice echoed about some subject he couldn't quite make out. All he had to do was show up and for the rest of the hour he stayed there, he only heard the sound of the cutlery against your plate.

The third thing was your absence from his bed. Okay, you didn't sleep together every night, but at least you took a few minutes for yourselves before going to sleep, even if it was just to cuddle for a bit. Tired of turning over in bed, dazed by the discomfort, he hurriedly walked to the door of your shared room with the only other female companion, who was the one who answered him.

"Hello, captain!" Ikkaku's mood was suspicious to him, but Law could wait to understand that later. "I think the one you're looking for is a little busy." She opened the door a crack, revealing your sleeping figure.

"Has she been here for a while?"

"Yes, sir. What happened, trouble in paradise?"

"Nothing much." He tried to avoid the subject with a weak smile. "Have a good night."

From then on, it was six days. Six days of pure torture for the captain of the heart pirates. You had entered radio silence mode. Every "good morning" or "can we talk?" was ignored. Law even tried to bring up one of your favorite singers and saw you remain silent. He couldn't understand why. He was going to go crazy, that was the only certainty he had at that moment.

The seventh day was the limit. Dark circles were forming on his face - and he could clearly see them on your face. His mood was unbearable, in addition to the atmosphere between everyone when you were present. Everyone already knew that there was indeed trouble in paradise.

You and Ikkaku were packing up the clean clothes that had arrived when you didn't notice him signaling to your partner to leave you alone.

"I think these clothes are enough for me to take. What do you think?" Your shock was evident when you saw your boyfriend there. Instead of answering, you turned your back and went back to rummaging through a small bag, putting the folded clothes in it.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Law's defeated tone of voice broke your heart, but you still tried to resist a little. "You're not leaving, are you? I know I messed up by losing your things, but please, please let's talk."

"That's the problem, Law." Even though your tone wasn't the most gentle of all, the man was washed with relief upon hearing your voice. "You don't

talk to me, don't pay attention to me."

"What do you mean?"

"You know that book I asked for? You didn't even look at my face to answer and then I found it there, on your desk. The other day you didn't hear me repeat the same thing more than three times." You blurted out, seeing that his gaze wasn't just on you but was going towards the bag on your bed.

"And you're leaving me because of this?"

And there was the sound he loved, even if the reason wasn't clear to him yet. With a light laugh you approached him and didn't hesitate to touch his face, turning his attentive gaze in your direction.

"Yes, I was upset about the situation, yes, I purposely gave you the silent treatment, but no, I would never leave you for something so trivial."

His eyes closed along with a relieved sigh that escaped his lips. Understanding that your closeness was an authorization, he intertwined his arms around your waist, ending any distance the two of you had.

"Can you forgive me? Sometimes I can't help but get lost in my own tasks and you've always been my lifeline, pulling me out of it." He explained, letting his fingers glide over your skin. "I think I took you for granted and I promise not to do that anymore. And if I do, please let me know, hit me, dunk me in seawater. Just please don't walk away from me, don't go without talking to me."

"I promise and I'm sorry for acting like this."

His lips captured yours quickly. Almost as a way of sealing the little promise between the two of you. However, you saw his eyes drift towards the suitcases.

"Promise you're not leaving me?"

"Oh babe." You laughed once more at his desolate expression. "These are some clothes I want to donate. Some of them don't fit me anymore, I really need some new things too, so I decided to clear the space."

"So that's it. You go, get rid of these clothes and then we'll go buy everything you need. And I want to hear everything you've done this week."

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law

171 notes · View notes

dduane · 3 days ago

Text

It's deeply frustrating to me sometimes how difficult it can be to get the lighting right in these when you've got a situation in which the light levels should be moderately low. I've been poking at this one (off @lookadreygon 's comment in the notes on this image) for some days now, in between doing other things, and every time one thing gets fixed, something else turns out to be wrong.

(This time it's the grass. It shouldn't be that damn green when the trees have turned color. I need to brown it down.)

The main difficulty is that if you overstate the lighting, it looks fake. But if you understate it out of a desire to have the scene look natural, you can't see anything. So you wind up walking a strange tightrope in which you have to keep adding invisible light sources, while (a) making sure they don't interfere with one another and (b) making sure they seem to be obeying the rules of reality, even when sometimes they're not.

That sunset, for example. It looks bright, but the file that expresses it—which has real-world sky-light levels encoded in it—is nonetheless not bright enough by itself to properly illuminate the characters. (And if you turn the sky's light up higher, in this case it not only looks fake, but washes all its warm colors out.)

So you wind up having to cheat. The light-from-in-front on Dusty and Lorn is mostly produced by two lights of a three-light "portrait light" rig. That had to be rotated and tweaked repeatedly to imitate the "key lighting" effect I wanted, and to look believable as sunlight, even though it's not exactly in line with the Sun.

And then there's the issue of lighting their backs, which were almost invisible without help. That meant I needed to add another light source behind them, diffuse, but just strong enough to look like it might be due to sunset skylighting coming from behind them. See the little checkered dish thing in the image below? That's it: a so-called "ghost light". It's been instructed to emit light just a touch cooler in temperature than the sunset in front of the guys.

...And having hung up all this hardware, you render it and get the image you see in the top of the post.

(sigh) With that grass. Maybe I'll take another run at that tomorrow.

...What will happen to this image, you may ask? (shrug) Damned if I know. This kind of work simply counts as a Honing My Craft thing, as the more one works with this platform, the smarter one may be able to get at using it.

(I emphasize the "may"...) :)

Meanwhile, that blue Fire's not right either. Which one of them is responsible for it? (Because, post-War, it might be either one of them.) But Goddess knows, that's an old, old story. I've been fighting with it for years... sometimes with very peculiar results.

(sigh) A detail for another day...

#digital art #Daz Studio #Daz 3D #Middle Kingdoms meta

92 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 20 hours ago

Note

Do you write for Scott Summers/Cyclops??! Specifically James Marsden version/X-men movies?? (I am so normal about him I promise)

If so, fucking Scott against/bent over his motorcycle and he's a whimpering mess 😍 just something about him loving his bike so much makes me wanna breed him on/against it😋

If you don't do X-men you could replace Scott with Nightwing :3

Kurt Wagner x male reader

Ficlet

I swear to god I misread Nightwing as Nightcrawler and it was first when I was about to post this that I realized the mistake, and there is too much about Kurt, his powers and appearance to rewrite it as anyone else… so… Kurt it is. If you want it with Scott, send the request again, my bad bro.

Don’t ask me why Kurt is hitchhiking and doesn’t just BAMF away, it’s for plot…

Kurt was well and truly lost when you picked him up. Thankfully hed still had his watch, the one that altered his physical appearance, so he wasn’t so visibly a mutant. It was out in the middle of nowhere, somewhere Kurt had stumbled after BAMFing out of one situation or another. And yeah, he could have just teleported back again, but his head was hurting really badly, so he didn’t.

In the end he pulled the good old tradition of hitchhiking, of standing by the side of the road with his thumb out and hoping some soul would drive down these baren roads. And luckily, you did, in a mud-covered, beaten truck that looked like your stereotypical country car.

The conversation flowed between the two of you, with you being fascinated by how far away he was from Germany, because Kurt made up some story about being a German hitchhiker seeing the world. Kurt could feel his tail twitching even as it was hidden, and the dirty tanktop, messy beard and old trucker cap you wore wasn’t helping.

There was a reason the one rule of his religion that Kurt couldn’t follow was celibacy, and you made his blood rush. Kurt knew he should be careful, he knew all the stereotypes about men like you, and he knew that later on some of the others would scold him for getting into a stranger’s car. What if you were a serial killer?

But Kurt was a weak man, something he prayed about on the regular, so when you offered to let him spend the night at your place, he jumped on it. even if it didn’t lead to anything, staying the night would be better than trying to get back to the X-men in the dark. That was an excuse, and he knew it, but who could blame him.

It was a nice place you had, large and cared for, even if it was only you. There were two more cars in your massive garage, and a beautiful motorcycle, which Kurt was quick to climb on top of and started turning the handles as he cooed in interest.

There were multiple reasons Kurt was called an imp and elf, and his curled flirty smile was one of them. That very smile as thrown your way, Kurt crossing his fingers in hopes that he had read you right. Seeing you huff but suppressing a smirk of your own had blood rushing downwards, his tail flicking and knocking something over, even in its invisible state.

One thing led to another, and the two of you ended up making out against your bike. It wasn’t actually in a drivable state, it didn’t have any wheels and was just a passion project of yours, but making out with a cute guy against it was really good.

It was a lucky coincidence that you liked jerking off in your garage, meaning you had lube laying around in one of your multiple toolboxes. Kurt was gonna make a flirty joke about it, but your mouth was on his before he could, your teeth clacking and tongues intertwining wetly.

All your jostling and rutting must have smacked Kurts wrist against your bike, as a familiar beep met his ears, and suddenly the illusion flickered and there was blue. The kiss was disconnected as you pulled back, eyes widening at the suddenly fuzzy and very blue man against your bike.

Kurts eyes had widened too, they were completely yellow you noticed. For him it wasn’t shock as much as it was fear, as any mutant knew how some people reacted to their kind, especially the ones that didn’t look like the norm.

There was a flicking motion in your peripheral, your eyes turning to it only to see a tail of all things flicking side to side. It even had a triangle shaped tip like a cartoon devil. It wasn’t that you hated mutants, you hadn’t ever met one that you knew of, and you liked to mind your own lane.

“Well… this is awkward, hehe” Kurt chuckled out, voice a little dry and tense as his shoulders rose, eyes flicking towards the well. “Only if you make it one” you reply after taking him in, sliding your hands up his sides and feeling his velvet fuzzy fur. You could work with this.

Kurt could only widen his eyes as you kissed him again, just as hungry as before and hands exploring across his torso. The X-man could only be pleasantly surprised, winding his arms around you and pulling you close once more as you started rutting against each other again, but this time Kurts tail could join, wrapping around your thigh like a leash.

“Flip over” you pant into his mouth, making Kurt snicker but do as you tell him. His tail wags and coils like a pleased cat as you pull the last of his clothes off, the blue mutant seeming almost smug or cocky in his own way, even if it was obvious, it was just him playing.

A shaky gasp punched its way out Kurts chest as you spread him open, the X-man looking back over his shoulder just to catch you dropping to your knees and burying your face between his spread cheeks. A puff of warm air brushed against his hole, making Kurts toes curl as his tail tapped against your back. “Guess one place doesn’t have any fur” you mumble, more to yourself than anything as you kissed against his tight pucker.

Kurt struggled not to let his tail curl around your head, or worse, your neck as you ate him out, the cap of the lube bottle being heard before your fingers joined in on the mess. The X-man tried to bite down his noises for a moment, until you groped at him encouragingly and he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

The prep was maybe a tad too rushed as you opened him up with a couple of fingers and your tongue, but Kurt was as needy as you were, so he didn’t care about the burn as you pushed inside, with a condom, of course. Instead, he wound his tail around your thigh again and pulled you close.

Your strong hands on his hips and your groans in his sharp ears, as well as the feeling of you stretching and filling him had Kurt feeling like he was in heaven. The blue fuzz coating his body made it nearly impossible to leave hickeys, at least visible ones, but that didn’t stop you from trying, and your enthusiasm to mark him up made Kurt dizzy in the best way possible.

Kurt hadn’t even noticed he had stumbled over the edge as you ground into him, Kurts body aflame with want and pleasure as he rocked back against you like a needy cat in heat. It was only when you bottomed out inside him and tumbled over it yourself, that Kurt noticed how he had painted the leather seat of your bike in his spend.

Maybe hitchhiking wasn’t so bad, Kurt thought, as you pulled out and flipped him over, replacing the used rubber with a new one, giving his tail a slight yank only to make him yelp and spread his legs enough to give you room. Definelty, not bad at all.

54 notes · View notes

worldly-fluster · 2 days ago

Text

The LADS boys when you 'like' someone else.

*This will be based off of what's going on with me and my irl love life rn.*

**The guy that you 'like', I'll call him...Kane. You guys are old friends from your job before you actually became a hunter.**

Sylus, Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel

***There will be a part two!!!!***

Sylus-

He...kinda expected this.

He knew that you could possibly already like someone that wasn't him, but he expected one of the three other men vying for your attention on the daily.

Not that one guy, Kane, that you used to work with.

You told him that there was a guy you liked, and that you were planning on telling him that you like him soon, you didn't say a name at first so he felt his heart flutter, thinking that maybe you liked him too.

But then when he encouraged you to just go for it, tell the guy now, instead of waiting, he saw you pick up your phone and send a text.

He waited for a second for his own phone to ring with a notification, until you showed him your screen.

There was the text, 'I like you 😃'. Right under the contact named Kane...

You smiled at him, not knowing his blood ran cold and his heart dropped.

He really shouldn't have let his hopes up...

Xavier-

This boi.

This boi already knew you liked someone else.

He just thought he could somehow get you to see that he liked you more than what that guy did.

He could treat you better.

When you asked him for advice on how to tell this...Kade Guy, whatever his name is, that you like him, he just said 'Don't. He probably doesn't like you.'

He said it in jealousy, not realizing that he hurt your feelings at first until you frowned.

You said that you were just gonna send him a text, rip off the bandaid then.

Xavier froze as he watched you pull out that damned device, clicked onto that guys contact and typed out the dreaded question that wrung out his heart.

He could only watch as you left his apartment to your own as you waited for the answer.

Zayne-

He was just giving you a check up, a normal thing for the both of you at this point.

Every time he got close to you, he could feel his fingers tingle in a warmth he loves.

But that small joy of his was short lived when he heard your phone notification go off.

It must be this Kane guy you talk about often.

He stiffened a bit when you looked down at it and smiled before sending a reply then turned to him with a question after a bit of thought.

How do you tell someone you like them?

Zayne sat straight, clearing his throat of the lump that appeared there before answering.

I would tell them, no sugar coating it. Be blunt.

You smiled at him, making his heart ache, as you typed to Kane.

He wanted to stop you, tell you that you were looking in the wrong direction, that he's right here. Waiting.

But he couldn't.

He just wants you to be happy...

Rafayel-

You...you keep on hurting him without realizing it, huh.

He's waited 800 years, walked though deserts, climbed mountains, swam seas, traveled the world. All to find you.

Only for you to love someone else?

This, this urchin doesn't deserve you. No one but him does.

He told you that telling this guy, Kent or whatever, wouldn't be a good idea.

But you insisted.

He can't ever stay mad you, but he will be here if anything happens.

If this guy even breathes your way funnily, thinks of hurting you...

Raf watched as you sent the awful text, the dagger in his heart.

He felt his hands shake as he tried to distract himself with his painting, but every brush stroke he made seemed wrong, painful.

He really, really hopes he doesn't reciprocate...

****wrote this on my lunch break, I'm also going to soon confess to the irl guy I like, I'll let you guys know how it goes!!!****

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace imagine #rafayel love and deepspace #lads sylus #l&ds sylus

32 notes · View notes

decentwritings · 3 days ago

Text

Chapter 5

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

previous part <- -> next part

You manage to leave at nine, telling your mom and sister you have an early morning. They buy the lie and let you go, while Devin pesters you with questions about Mabel. He mentions she promised to bake a cake with him, which twists the knife even deeper as you head out the door. The guilt gnaws at you, but you push it down.

When you get home, you want nothing more than to hide under the covers and shut the world out. But you know better. There's no avoiding tonight. You sigh, forcing yourself into action, and head for the closet.

You open it, punch in the code on your safe, and scan your fingerprint. The door clicks open, revealing the gun, an extra magazine, and some cash laid out neatly. You stare at the gun for a moment, a bitter reminder of what you're getting pulled into.

Devin is a curious kid, which is why you had to upgrade to this new safe. You caught him playing with your old one, punching in random numbers for fun. The last thing you needed was for him to accidentally figure out the code, so you got one with a fingerprint scanner to avoid any risks.

You grab the gun, checking the current magazine before tucking the extra one into your pocket. The gun slides into your waistband, but you wince at how uncomfortable it feels. You've been meaning to buy a holster, but never got around to it. After tonight, though, you need to make time. Especially after that threat.

With about an hour left until you need to be there, you decide to walk around and clear your head. But the regret hits when you circle the block, your mind filled with thoughts of Mabel. The memory of her hurt, disappointed face plays over and over, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

As you finish your walk, the weight of the gun against your waistband feels heavier than it did before. No matter how many times you adjust it, the discomfort doesn't go away. The uncomfortable thoughts of Mabel mix with the sharp reality of what you're about to face tonight. You knew this would catch up with you one day, but you never thought it would happen like this—with someone like Mabel getting caught in the crossfire.

You check your phone. Thirty minutes left.

You make your way back to your apartment, mentally running through every scenario you can think of—ways to handle Nick, what to say if he pushes too far. But none of them feel right. You're too distracted. You can't shake the memory of Mabel's face, the way her voice trembled when she asked for her keys.

You shake your head, trying to refocus. Nick's the priority tonight. This isn't the time to let emotions mess with your judgment.

You get into your car and drive towards the meeting point, the streets eerily quiet at this hour. Each red light feels like a countdown ticking in your head. You park a block away from the spot, hands gripping the wheel as you watch the clock on your dashboard.

The lot isn't as empty as you close in on it. There are a few cars littered here and there. There's one specific car that's been here since your first drop with these guys. You think about asking around town for it; the car looks in good condition. You don't know why someone abandoned it here.

Nick hops out of the van with Oliver and Isaac in tow. There's a truck parked next the van and Costa and Tom hop out of it, and you feel a breath of relief come out of your mouth at the sight of the father.

You greet them with a nod then silent follow as they take the lead. Costa walks alongside you, head down, same as you.

"He knows about you and Mabel," Costa's voice is low, eyes focused on the back of Nick's head. You glance at him, giving him a look he understands well. He nods, pursing his lips in a thin line. "Charlie tried to get him to back off but–"

"Broke his hand?" You finish, and he nods. All you can do is shake your head.

"Listen," Costa sighs, waiting to see if Nick is listening. When the man keeps walking, he continues. "Mabel may say she can handle this but...she wants out–she is out. Keep it that way."

You swallow thickly. "I am," you tell him, and by the look on your face; he frowns. He understands and it break his heart. "I don't want her anywhere near this. Or you, man." You add, sending him a pointed glare.

Costa shrugs. "That dive you took, remember?" You nod, furrowing your brows. "That was suppose to be my last. But they needed an extra guy, and with Charlie out–I got pulled in. But this is my last one; no way they're reeling me into another one."

You nod, tucking your hands in your pockets. You were going to make sure of it.

You guys come to a stop towards the end of the lot. Some men stand there with a large container behind them. You crack your neck, hoping to relieve the ache and tension there. Something tells you this is bigger than the last. How these guys are moving big things without getting caught is beyond you. You'll worry about it later.

Nick exchanges some words with one of the men, too quiet for you to hear. You glance at Costa and he shakes his head, silently telling you not to ask. Tom steps forward, a large duffel bag in his hands you hadn't noticed before.

"It's all there," Nick says to one of the men, narrowing his eyes. Another one takes the duffel from Tom, practically snatching it from him then unzips the bag. You catch a glimpse of some stacks of one hundred dollar bills.

You look away, clenching your jaw. A cash exchange for whatever is in that container? This is ridiculous.

"Looks and feels like one mill," the man says, handing the duffel to his boss. You control your expression; one million dollars? That's more than you have ever heard them handle.

"Now, show me yours," Nick orders, crossing his arms.

The shorter one turns and begins to unlock the container. He struggles to open the doors but once he does, the sight of a powdered drugs fills the scene. From floor to ceiling of the container is filled.

Nick glances back, at all of you, a proud smirk on his lips. "Ronny is gonna have a field day," he whistles, tipping an imaginary hat at the drugs. "Alright. Pleasure doing business," he extends his hand towards the taller one and they shake hands before they leave.

Once they're out of sight, Nick turns to Tom with a sharp grin. "Last shipment, crew."

Tom scoffs, arms crossed, his unimpressed expression etched deeply into his face. Then again, that's his natural look. "You said that last time." He spits on the ground, eyes narrowing. "We're only here because Charlie back-talked you. We're done."

Nick's laughter is dry and humorless, cutting through the silence like a blade.

He scratches his chin, his grin fading into something darker. Without a word, he nods at Isaac. The man moves like a well-trained dog, pulling his gun and leveling it at Tom.

The crew tenses as Nick steps closer to Tom, who stiffens but doesn't back down. "I think you're confused," Nick says, his voice low and venomous. He looks over at Costa, flashing him a smile that's too friendly to be anything but a threat. "None of you are done. Not until I say you're done."

Your jaw tightens as Costa shifts beside you. He's done. You can feel it in the way he won't meet your gaze, his shoulders slumping under the weight of Nick's words. Tom's done. Hell, even you're done. But none of that matters to Nick.

You glance at Oliver. His eyes meet yours, pleading silently: Don't. But your inner voice-the one that remembers your father's mistakes—won't stay quiet. Don't let Costa turn out like him.

Your decision comes fast. Too fast. Before you can think, your hand shoots out, grabbing Isaac's wrist. There's a sickening crunch as his fingers bend unnaturally, and the gun slips from his grasp. He yells in pain, stumbling back, but you don't stop. You raise it with certainty, aiming it squarely at Nick.

The shift in the room is instant. Nick's smirk vanishes, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. Around you, the crew freezes, their breath caught in their throats. Even Isaac's groans fade into the background as the blood roars in your ears.

Nick's eyes narrow, flicking to Oliver. The silent command is clear: Do something.

Oliver hesitates, his hand hovering near his holstered weapon. For a moment, he's unreadable. Then you see it—hesitation, uncertainty. It's a crack in the soldier's armor, and it shifts the balance in the room.

"What the hell are you waiting for, Oliver?" Nick snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut. "Do your damn job!"

But Oliver doesn't move. His gaze drops to the floor, fists clenched. It's a small rebellion, but the defiance radiates from him. You catch the flicker of frustration in Nick's expression, and the tension tightens like a noose.

Oliver's fingers twitch toward his weapon. Instinct takes over. You pivot, leveling the gun at him before he can even draw. He freezes, hands slowly rising as his glare burns into you. He's angry–probably humiliated–that you outmaneuvered him. For a soldier with more time in the field, it's a bitter pill to swallow. You're surprised yourself, but there's no time to dwell on it.

Without breaking your aim, you step forward and yank his gun from its holster. The weight is familiar now, your grip steady. You toss it to Tom, who catches it with a quick nod and points it at Nick.

"Now where did a pretty girl like you get the balls do all this?" Nick asks, sarcastic, like he has no gun on him. His arms raise when Tom waves the gun at him, and he glares back.

"The Army, jackass," you retort, clenching your jaw. His eyes flicker to Oliver, who avoids his gaze. He looks pissed, angry that Oliver knew and didn't share this information. "New deal. You leave them out of this; you got me. I was Army, a Ranger...and I have photographic memory." You add, hoping he bites the bait. You can't have Costa in this anymore.

Costa's eyes widen, along with Tom's. Oliver's face changes from anger to impressed.

Nick snarls. "Bullshit," he huffs, glancing at each of them for their reaction.

You raise a brow. "Yeah? I caught one glimpse of your license once, six months ago," you start and he raises a brow, unsure of where you're going. "S51973690. I also know Isaac and Oliver's license number by heart. And every location you've made a deal at. Every face, every plate number that's crossed my path. You think I can't take this all to someone higher and have them hunting you down within the hour?"

Nick's smirk falters, the confidence in his eyes dimming as he weighs your words. The rest of the crew stands frozen, exchanging uneasy glances. Costa's jaw tightens, clearly surprised by your sudden gamble, but he doesn't say a word. Tom's grip tightens on Oliver's gun, keeping it steady on Nick as he watches for any sudden movements.

"You're bluffing," Nick spits, but his voice has lost some of its edge. "You wouldn't anyway. I may go down but two more will take my place. Ronny isn't an idiot. He covers his bases."

You tighten your hold on the gun. You know. That's why you haven't shot him yet.

"So take my offer," you say back, voice firm as your glare. In the corner of your eye, you see Costa's need to argue but you shut him down with a glare. "You leave them out of this, and I'll be your fall guy. It's your choice."

Nick looks at you, his eyes narrowing as he calculates his next move. His fingers twitch, like he wants to call for backup or grab a weapon, but the power has shifted. He knows it, and so do you.

After what feels like an eternity, Nick lets out a frustrated sigh. "Fine," he growls, lowering his hands slowly. "Alright. "

You nod, lowering your gun but keeping your gaze locked on his. "Understood. But if you step out of line, I'll make sure no one comes out clean."

Nick glares at you for a moment longer before signaling for Isaac and Oliver to fall back. You can feel Costa's tension ease beside you, but the air between you all is still thick with distrust. This isn't over, but for now, you've bought them some time.

"We still need someone with a boat–" Nick's eyes flicker to Tom, "to take this shipment."

Tom lowers his gun. "I'll do it." You open your mouth to disagree, but he shakes his head. "Nah, kid, it's just me. No one else will be on that boat but me." He sends a pointed glare to Costa.

Costa lowers his gaze, but you don't miss the frown on his lips. He wants to argue, but he's now selfishly not; for his kid. Finally, you think.

Nick nods then leans to grab Isaac off the ground. The guy grunts as he stands, holding his broken hand close to his chest. He glares at you as they all walk away, sullen and two of the three feeling castrated. As Nick and his crew turn to leave, you glance back at Costa. His face is a mix of relief and concern, but he gives you a slight nod—a silent acknowledgment of what you just did for him.

Tom hands you back Oliver's gun, his eyes filled with questions, but you don't answer any of them. Instead, you tuck it in your waistband and exhale shakily. You may have just stepped deeper into the fire, but at least for now, Costa is safe.

For now, that's all that matters.

\\\\\\

Nick is not one to get revenge. The disrespect he receives, he plans to give back. The same way people say "you get respect when you give respect," is the same way he plans to get back at you.

The plan is simple. Isaac happens to have a piece of technology that can change the traffic lights with the flip of a switch. So, on your way home, you'll end up in a car accident.

Simple and brutal—just the way Nick likes it. The plan would leave no trace back to him, just an unfortunate "accident." A part of him wants to linger behind, so you can see it was him. But he knows you'll get the message. Isaac, always eager to get his hands dirty, agrees without hesitation. There's a sense of thrill in his eyes that sends a chill through anyone who notices.

Oliver being MIA makes things easier for Nick. He knows Oliver wouldn't approve—he's not as cold-blooded. But Isaac? Isaac has no reservations. They don't need Oliver for this. They just need the right moment.

It happens two days later. You're driving home with your nephew in the backseat. He's full of excitement like he always is after a day at the beach. Your sister is in the passenger seat, humming every once in a while to let her son know she's listening.

You're too in your head to focus on what either of them are saying. At this rate, you're just moving by nature. You're used to the drive back to your sister's place after a day at the beach. You can do it with your eyes closed.

As you drive, your nephew's chatter fades into the background, and your sister's humming becomes white noise. Your thoughts circle the events of the last few days, especially Nick's warning glares, and the unease that's been gnawing at you since. You can't shake the feeling that something's off, but you tell yourself it's paranoia.

The intersection ahead is coming up, the same route you've taken countless times. The light turns green, and without hesitation, you begin to drive through.

Then it happens—too fast for you to react.

The flash of headlights to your left, a truck barreling toward you. Your heart jumps to your throat as you slam the brakes, but the truck is moving too fast. The sound of screeching tires and the deafening crash of metal against metal fills the air as the truck slams into the side of your car.

The force sends your vehicle spinning. Glass shatters, your sister screams, and all you can think about is Devin in the backseat. Your hands grip the wheel, trying to regain control, but it's too late. The car skids off the road, coming to a violent halt.

Silence. The world seems to stop for a moment, save for the ringing in your ears and the ragged breaths coming from your chest. You blink, your vision blurry, and then you hear it—your nephew's soft, terrified whimper from the backseat.

Panic floods your body as you struggle to turn around, pain shooting through your side. "Devin," you gasp, your voice hoarse. You see your sister moving, clutching her arm, but she's alive. Devin looks shaken, but unharmed. Relief washes over you.

But as you sit there, adrenaline still coursing through your veins, you know—this wasn't an accident. This was Nick.

And as you hear several people around your car asking if you are all okay, you see in the distance the van. The all too familiar van. The windows are tinted but you know he's behind them with a smirk on his lips.

Your teeth grit as you attempt to shove the door open, wanting to chase after him. But you stop the instant you hear your sister stir beside you.

As the sirens get closer, you see the van drive off. You huff out a breath, tired and in pain. You glance up and see a drop of blood roll down your forehead. You look to your sister, guilt rising in your entire system as you see her face with cuts.

Eventually, the ambulance arrives and a paramedic rushes over to help you all out with the help of some firefighters. You urge them to help your nephew and sister out first, and thankfully they listen. But once you're out, adrenaline overcomes you and you feel no more pain.

You decide now isn't the time to face Nick. You ride to the hospital with your sister and nephew, your heart racing as you try to shake off the worry flooding your mind. You watch as the paramedics tend to them, checking for any serious injuries. Devin clutches his mother's hand, wide-eyed but trying to be brave.

"Mom, I'm scared," he whispers, glancing between you and your sister.

"It's okay, buddy. We're going to be just fine," she reassures him, her voice strong despite the pain etched on her face. You feel a surge of protectiveness towards both of them, a fierce determination to keep them safe.

Once inside the ambulance, you sit next to your sister, the paramedic checking your forehead. "Just a small cut, but we'll clean it up," he says, his hands gentle but firm. You nod, barely feeling the sting as he dabs at the blood.

"Where's the driver? Is he okay?" your sister asks, her brow furrowed with concern.

"They're checking him out," the paramedic replies, glancing back at the driver, who is being treated by another team. "You were all very lucky. It could have been much worse."

You don't feel lucky. The image of the van, Nick's smirk, haunts you, reminding you that he's still out there, still a threat. The urge to find him burns in your chest, but right now, you need to focus on your family.

As the ambulance jolts to a stop outside the hospital, you grab your sister's hand. The doors open but you pause to check the surroundings.

Once inside the hospital, the chaos of the emergency room swirls around you. Nurses and doctors bustle about, tending to patients in varying degrees of distress. You're ushered to a waiting area, the bright fluorescent lights harsh against your eyes.

"Devin, I need you to stay close to me," your sister says, her voice steadier now. You watch as she holds onto him tightly, the bond between them a source of strength

As they're taken to a treatment area, you step away for a moment, your heart pounding. You pull out your phone, mind racing with thoughts of how to find Nick. You need to know where he is, how to track him down.

Mabel comes to mind then. He attacked you, got you, your sister and nephew. He can't be after her either. Why would the idiot come after you anyway? You guys made a deal.

As you sit down, staring at the bustling activity around you, you resolve to gather your strength and figure out your next move. Nick thinks he can intimidate you, but he has no idea what you're capable of when it comes to protecting the people you love.

"Hey, are you alright?" a nurse asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You nod, forcing a smile, but inside, you know this isn't over. Not by a long shot.

You stand, grateful for the interruption on your thoughts. "I have to go but my sister and nephew are being treated," you tell her, and she nods to inform you she's listening. "Could you tell her I had to go? I have something to do."

The nurse seems unimpressed, a look of judgement flashes across her face but she's quick to hide it. She nods then walks off in the direction the room your sister is in.

You're rushing out of the hospital, completely missing Mabel's screeching stop as she arrives. You're walking towards your house with determination, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins. The weight of what just happened hangs heavy on your chest, but you push it down, focusing on the task ahead. Nick can't be allowed to get away with this.

As you walk, thoughts of Mabel swirl in your mind. The idea of him targeting her ignites a fire within you, fueling your urgency.

The night air is cool against your skin as you approach your house. You glance around, making sure no one is following you. Once inside, you lock the door behind you and immediately head for your room. You need to gather anything you might need—your phone, your knife, your gun, and whatever else you can grab in case you need to make a quick escape.

You sit on your bed for a moment, your heart racing as you pull up Mabel's number. You stare at her number, exhaling a breath as your thumb hovers over the call button. You stop, deciding now isn't the best time to call.

Mabel receives your message as she sits with Devin, his head rested on her shoulder while your sister is getting her wrist splint. With the adrenaline, she hadn't realized it was broken.

I know we aren't talking but...

Are you okay?

Mabel frowns. When she didn't find you in the room with your sister, she assumed you went out to do something stupid. She glances at Devin, who remains sleeping peacefully as if this whole thing didn't just happen.

She's still mad at you. For pushing her away and not fighting for her to stay. But when she heard the news of your crash, she rushed over, her anger disappearing. Here she is now, angry while also worried sick about you.

I'm fine. I'm at the hospital with your sister and nephew. Where are you?

You know where she is. That's all you care about. You lock your phone, choosing not to answer and double check the items you have on you. Once you're done, you head out in search for the bastard.

You don't know where he is but you're going to find out. He's not stupid enough to be at his home but you check there first. You come up empty. So you go to Oliver's place, pounding on his door when you arrive.

You step back, he towers over when he opens the door. He raises a brow and frowns. "You look like shit." He comments.

"Where is he?" You asks, tightening your jaw. He tilts his head in confusion. "Nick. Where is he?" You repeat, voice much harsher than ever.

Oliver's expression shifts from confusion to concern as he takes in your urgency. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since—"

"Since the crash?" you cut him off, frustration boiling over. He's confused again. "He caused an accident, a crash. My sister and nephew were in the car with me." You practically shout.

Oliver's eyes widen. "Is that why you're all fucked up?"

You send him a deadpan glare. "Thanks." You shake your head. "Where is he?"

Oliver shakes his head. He steps back, allowing you to enter his apartment. "Slow down. You need to calm down and think this through. You can't just charge in without a plan."

"Calm down?" you snap, your voice rising. "Did you not hear me? My sister and nephew were in the car! You think I'm going to sit back and wait for him to make his next move?"

Oliver runs a hand through his hair, clearly torn. "Okay, okay. Just give me a second. Let me think." He heads toward his living room, motioning for you to follow.

You huff, watching him search for something. You glance around his living room, eyebrows furrowing. "What were you doing?"

Oliver glances back, looking at you in between his search through some papers. "I wasn't with him," he tells you, returning to what he's doing. "He probably knew I wouldn't help him."

"That's reassuring," you mumble, gripping your side when you feel an ache. You shake it off and exhale a breath.

Oliver pulls a piece of paper out and smiles. "Here." He walks over to you and hands you the paper. "I had to do a run for Ronny, the boss himself. Nick put in a good word for me, the biggest pay day I ever had."

You take the paper, eyeing it. You memorize it then look at him in silent question.

"He should be there. He hides out at Ronny's when he knows he's done something stupid," Oliver tells you. You nod, a grateful look crossing your face. Before you move to leave, he stops you with a stare. "Be careful. I'd go with you but...I told them I'm out. Told them I go back for a tour next week."

You pause, holding his gaze for a moment. "How'd you manage that?" There's a hint of surprise in your voice, but deep down, you're glad to hear it.

Oliver chuckles with a shrug. "I lied." You crack a smile, extending your hand out to him. He takes your hand, gripping it tightly. "But if you need me to stay to help, say the word. I've been wanting to kick his ass for a while now."

You shake your head but you're grateful. "You're done, Cap. Get outta here." You say in your best authoritative voice. He chuckles and releases you, allowing you to leave.

You rush out, trying to figure out the best way to get to this place on foot. You look left then right, before finally coming up with the idea of flagging down a cab. You can't afford to waste time walking, not when every second counts. The streets are still busy enough at this hour, and as luck would have it, a cab pulls up after a few minutes. You hop in, giving the driver the address Oliver gave you.

As the car weaves through the city, you can't stop your mind from racing. You think about your sister, your nephew, and Mabel—everything you've been through and everything you stand to lose if you don't stop Nick. Your hand unconsciously moves to your side, feeling the soreness from the crash.

The cab pulls up a block away from the address, and you pay the driver before stepping out. The area is quiet, too quiet. You can feel the tension in the air, knowing that Nick is nearby, hiding out like the coward he is. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself as you approach the building. You pull your knife out and grip the handle tightly.

It's an old warehouse, one of those places you wouldn't look twice at. But now, it feels like the center of the storm. You glance around, making sure no one's watching before slipping inside. The place is dimly lit, and you can hear faint voices in the distance. You grip your knife tighter, knowing this could be your only chance to end it.

You move through the shadows, inching closer to the sound of the voices. You spot Nick, laughing with a couple of guys, his back turned to you. The anger bubbles up inside you, but you force yourself to stay calm. You need to wait for the right moment.

But then, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You still, feeling their grip on your shoulder tighten.

"Ahh, the one with the memory, right?" You can smell the smoke on his breath. He allows you turn to face him and he smiles, like he's just seen a long time family member. "Please, join us." He pushes you and you stumble, stepping into the center of the warehouse.

All eyes fall on you and your jaw tightens as Nick smirks in your direction. They knew you were coming.

Nick feigns a grimaces. "Ooh, that looks bad," he jests, earning laughs from the others. "Did you get in a car accident or something?"

You lunge at him but you're stopped by two large men, who grab your arms and hold you back with ease. The knife in your hand clatters to the floor and one of them kicks it off in some direction. The laughter continues as Nick stands there, looking smug and completely in control. His smirk deepens as he steps closer, eyeing you up and down. The men take the chance to disarm you, taking your gun away from you now. They even take your phone from you.

One of the men clicks the lock button and your phone screen brightens, he then shows Ronny the screen.

Ronny brightens. "Aww, you're the one with my precious Mabel Black Label?" Your jaw tightens, the hold on you getting tighter the more you fight. "You know, she's a special one. She helped her mom a lot, made us a lot of money. It was sad to let her go."

Your heart races as Ronny's words sink in. The mention of Mabel, her name coming from his mouth, twists your stomach into knots. You clench your fists, struggling against the iron grip of the men holding you.

"You see, we let her go," Ronny continues, reading over the message on your phone from Mabel. He clicks his tongue three times. "But I'm thinking we made a mistake. Maybe it's kismet, you know? How she always comes back here, like she wants to belong somewhere. And maybe she belongs here...with us."

Nick cracks a smile. "We should be thanking you, Faro." He teases, using your nickname. It sounds like a curse word coming from him.

Your muscles tense against the hold of the two men restraining you. Every fiber of your being wants to tear him apart, but you know you're outnumbered and outgunned.

"Leave Mabel out of this." You get out through gritted teeth, narrowing your eyes.

Ronny frowns, shaking his head. "No. You see, with you two together;" he pauses, pocketing your phone. "The cash flow will be endless. Your memory, her smarts, your fight, her feistiness–I can see it now. We'll own this town by the end of the year."

Your stomach churns as Ronny's words sink in. The thought of Mabel being dragged back into this life makes your skin crawl. You feel the weight of the situation pressing down on you, but you refuse to show weakness.

Ronny pats your cheek gently, then pinches your cheek. "You're like your father. Talked a big game. Said he would have the money by the end of the week, blah blah blah–it was an endless cycle." He shrugs, shaking his head with disappointment.

The mention of your father makes you lower your guard. It always does when these guys mention him. You wanted information on how your father was around them, because you couldn't figure how he got himself in this mess. Sure, there was gambling but...what else?

"Here's the plan," Ronny nods, silently ordering the men to release you. You nearly fall over, but manage to stable yourself to stay standing. "You care about Mabel, I care about Mabel–hell, everyone in this room cares about Mabel, right, guys?"

You flicker your gaze to them all when they nod. You even hear one of them say they saw her take her first steps. Your jaw tightens, feeling overloaded with the need to fight. But this is a lost battle. You know it.

"So, here's the thing," Ronny takes a deep breath. "We got people wanting to shut us down. Cops, they always wanna ruin the party." He scrunches his nose.

You're not sure where this going.

"Find a way in to the police station," he continues, crossing his arms. "Get the list of CIs and UCs because we can't have them ruining our party." He smirks.

Your mind reels as Ronny lays out his twisted plan. He wants you to infiltrate the police station, betray the very people trying to take down his operation. It's a trap, one that pulls you deeper into the criminal underworld you've been trying to escape.

The thought of betraying anyone, let alone risking the lives of cops—people who could be trying to keep Mabel and your family safe—makes your blood run cold. But the weight of Ronny's leverage, the looming threat to Mabel, presses down hard.

"You're insane if you think I'm going to help you with that," you say, your voice steady despite the whirlwind inside.

Ronny smirks, unfazed. "Oh, I know you don't want to do it. But you will. Because if you don't, well..." He glances around at the men before lowering his voice. "Let's just say, Mabel won't have a choice. She'll come back, and she'll come back worse."

Your fists clench as the reality hits you. He's not bluffing. If you don't comply, Mabel will be dragged into this nightmare, and she won't come out the same. You can't let that happen.

"How the hell am I supposed to get in?" you ask through gritted teeth, knowing you're already losing this battle.

Ronny shrugs casually, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. "You've got connections, don't you? Family ties, friends in the right places. You've been around long enough to know how to get what you need."

You want to punch him, break free, anything but play his game. But the threat against Mabel lingers heavy. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. "And what happens when I get the list? You think they're just going to let me waltz out of there with classified information?"

Ronny grins. "You got that memory thing," he taps your forehead and you fight back the urge to slap his hand away. "Get the list, bring it back here or write it down after memorizing it, and you'll never have to worry about us again. No one will touch Mabel, or you, ever again."

You don't trust him, not for a second. But right now, it's the only way to keep Mabel safe.

"And that's it? We're done?" You ask, glancing at all of them.

Ronny shrugs. "She is. You're not." He answers. "Consider it your way of paying her mother's debt off. She tried to do that for a while, in more ways than just running drugs if you know what I mean?"

The men surrounding you laugh and your hands tightened into a fist.

"Get the list and Mabel is safe." You wait to see if he has more to say. He looks around for a second then leans forward. "As for her boyfriend, he's a different story. But it works well for you because you'll have no competition."

You furrow your brows. "Charlie? What does Charlie have to do with any of this?"

"Well, his brother's father killed one of my best," Ronny responds like it's obvious. "Left a woman a widow and a daughter without his father. And well, a daughter needs her father, right?" He sends you a knowing smile.

Your face twists into a snarl, causing him to laugh. He pats your shoulder then reaches for your phone in his pocket. He hands it to you and waits for you to take it.

It's his way of seeing if you'll take his offer.

You hesitate, staring at the phone in Ronny's hand as if it's a loaded weapon. Accepting it means you're agreeing to his twisted deal, putting yourself deeper into this mess. But if you don't, Mabel's life—and now Charlie's—hangs in the balance.

The mention of Charlie's brother, Tom's father gnaws at you. You heard the story. About the old man who shot Weeks dead. He's Tom's father. And the guy is still working with this crew? How much of an idiot are the people in this town.

Right, you're not one to talk.

But now, Ronny's threatening to use that against him, against you all. He's putting more than just Mabel's life in your hands. Charlie warned you. Stay away from Mabel.

You should have listened.

You reach out slowly, gripping the phone as the tension thickens in the room. Your stomach churns, but you force yourself to stay composed. This isn't just about you anymore. It's about keeping Mabel and her friends safe from this maniac.

Ronny smirks as you take the phone, satisfied. "Good. Now, you've got two days. Make it happen, and maybe this all blows over for Mabel. Maybe."

You turn on your heel, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing any more reaction from you. As you head toward the exit, the weight of the situation settles heavy in your chest. You glance back just once, seeing Nick leaning against the wall, smug as ever.

But this isn't over. One way or another, he's going to get what's his from you.

As you step outside, the cool night air hits you, and you finally allow yourself to breathe. You look down at your phone, wondering how you're going to pull this off without losing everything, or worse—without losing Mabel.

~~~~~~

hi, hello,

sorry for the delay on this chapter. I hope you all had a great holiday and have a great new year. my classes started up again and the next couple of chapters may take some time to post as I already have a butt load of homework (and it’s just the first week). thank you guys for liking my writing, all the support actually encouraged me to post this Mabel story so really thank you.

I’ll see you on the next one, thank you!🫶🏼

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #finestkind #mabel (finestkind)#lighthouse #mabel (finestkind) x reader

52 notes · View notes

suunani · 2 hours ago

Text

crimson love ( park sunghoon )

▍ you learn that love isn’t always enough and can’t save everything.

content : 3730 words, royalty!au, knight!male reader, prince!sunghoon, impossible love, they are nawt happy, sunghoon is kind of cold at first, reader call sunghoon 'my prince' & 'my love', angst, making out, slightly suggestive, cursing.

note : omg this is the first time i’ve written something like this, but i poured a lot of effort into making the emotions and situations believable, so i really hope it resonates with you!

the flickering candlelight cast long shadows against the cold stone walls of the prince’s private chamber, but the room felt suffocating in a way that no shadow could ever explain.

you knelt in front of sunghoon, your back straight because that's what a knight should look like, but your shoulders hunched because you didn't know how to hold the weight of what you were about to tell him.

“your highness…” you began, your voice a quiet rasp, carefully controlled but laced with something raw — something barely contained. “i'll get rid of her for you.”

the words spilled out, desperate, earnest, and dangerous. you knew they were too bold, too reckless, but in this moment, there was nothing more important than removing the threat looming over him.

you didn't even realize how tightly your hands were balled into fists until you felt your nails digging into your palms. you looked up at him, searching his face for something, anything — but all you got back was that unreadable expression he always wore.

the one that made him feel like he was miles away even when he was right in front of you.

for a moment, the only sound in the room was your breathing, uneven and shaky. sunghoon didn't say a word. his gloved hand hovered near yours, but he didn't touch you.

that, more than anything, made your chest ache.

you couldn't stop yourself. you reached out, your fingers, calloused from years of service and battle, were gentle as they clasped his hand, your touch as tender as ever — so gentle it almost felt wrong — though the rest of you screamed with the weight of your emotions.

you had never dared to show this side of yourself, this rawness. you had always been the strong knight, unwavering, a protector of the prince, of the crown. but now, in this desperate hour, your loyalty, your love, your sacrifice, spilled out in front of him, uncontrollable.

“my prince— my love,” you tried again, your voice breaking on the words, and you hated how small you sounded, how vulnerable.

but there was no hiding from him. not now.

"please. i'll do it. i don't care what it costs me. i would rot in prison if you asked me to. i would go to the ends of the earth, beyond the gates of hell, if it meant keeping you safe. keeping you away from her."

you didn't mean to say that last part, but it slipped out anyway, and now it was just hanging in the air between you, like an accusation. like a confession.

you expected him to get angry. to pull away completely. but instead, something in his eyes shifted.

for the briefest second, his guard dropped, and you saw it — saw him. the sunghoon you'd fallen for, the one who smiled at you like you were his whole world when no one else was watching. the one who kissed you like it hurt to let go.

but it was gone as fast as it came, replaced by that same cold, unreachable mask he always wore. he pulled his hand back sharply, and the ache in your chest turned into something sharper, something that made it hard to breathe.

“you don’t know what you’re saying,” he said finally, his voice tight, controlled.

but you knew better. you knew that the mask he wore was thin, fragile. it wasn’t anger that clouded his features. it was despair.

“i never asked you to do this. not for me. not for anyone. i never wanted you to.”

you didn’t flinch, even though his words cut deeper than he could have known. you couldn’t afford to.

"you don't have to ask," you shot back, and this time your voice didn't shake. you were done pretending. "i'd do anything for you, my prince. you know that."

you wasnt stupid. you were well aware of your place in the world — you always had.

you were a nobody, an orphan, a lost soul abandoned by everyone who had to claw his way out of the streets just to survive. you'd lost everything before you even knew what it meant to have something to lose. you didn't even deserve to be in this room with him.

but sunghoon had chosen you.

he found you in the rain, a chance encounter that had changed the course of your life forever. he had seen something in you that no one else ever had. he had brought you into the fold, given you purpose, given you a future — though you had never dared to imagine what that future might hold.

and somewhere along the way, you'd given him everything in return.

without question, without hesitation.

you had become his knight, his loyal protector, but more than that — his secret lover, when no one else was watching. you had given your body, your heart, your soul to him, knowing full well that it could never be enough.

sunghoon was the prince. his future, his throne, his empire, everything came before you, before your love. and you had accepted that, as painful as it was.

but now, this woman — olivia, the woman sunghoon had been promised to, was the final blow. she wasn’t worthy of him. she couldn’t love him the way you did. she didn't even deserve to be near him.

her every action, her every smile, was a mockery of everything sunghoon stood for. and you, as his knight, as his lover, couldn’t stand to see him bound to someone who would tarnish his name. someone who would drag him into the mud.

“that woman will drag you down with her,” you said, and the words came out harder than you meant them to, but you didn't care.

your hands was still clasping his as if you could somehow hold onto him, keep him from slipping away.

“she frequents brothels. she has not an ounce of loyalty in her. she would make you appear incompetent in the eyes of your people. your enemies would see it, and they will use it against you. she'll destroy everything you've worked for.”

you could see his jaw tighten, his fingers flexing slightly, as if resisting the urge to throw something, to lash out. the room felt heavier with each passing second.

but he didn't say anything. not yet.

“i’ve had her followed,” you continued, your tone fierce now, fueled by the rage and protectiveness you couldn’t mask. “i know what she’s been doing, where she's been going. and i can’t— no, i won’t let her ruin you.”

sunghoon’s breath quickened, his chest rising and falling with each labored inhale.

his entire body had stiffened, the tension radiating from him like a tightly wound cord threatening to snap. you could see the storm brewing behind his eyes — the conflict, the weight of everything he carried on his shoulders.

because deep down, he knew you were right.

you had seen things. heard things. you had watched olivia, followed her every move. olivia was poison. she had seduced every man in her path, her charms a weapon she wielded without mercy.

and her engagement to sunghoon wasn't love — it was a calculated political arrangement. a tool to strengthen the empire, to solidify alliances.

but at what cost? his heart? his future? the very essence of who he was?

sunghoon finally met your eyes, and there was no hiding the conflict swirling within them.

he opened his mouth as if to speak, but the words never came. instead, silence fell between you, heavy and oppressive, as though the weight of his situation was too much for him to put into words.

his father, the emperor, had fallen ill, leaving sunghoon to take the throne far earlier than he had ever expected, far earlier than he was ready. his younger sister had been sent away to marry the tyrant of a neighboring empire, leaving sunghoon to stand alone amidst the chaos.

alone with all with all the expectations and burdens of the empire on his shoulders.

your chest tightened as you watched him, your heart aching with a love so deep and consuming it made your breath catch. you wanted to reach for him, to hold him, to take some of that weight from his shoulders and carry it yourself.

"you deserve someone better, my love," you said quietly, your voice breaking with the emotion you had kept buried for so long. "someone who will stand by you, someone who will love you. not this woman."

at first, sunghoon didn't respond. his eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze growing colder. but it wasn’t aimed at you. it was directed inward.

you could see it, the bitterness and frustration that had been simmering inside him for weeks, for months, for years. it bubbled to the surface now, spilling over in a way he could no longer control.

"i never wanted this," he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost swallowed by the silence of the room.

the words weren't for you, not really — they were more for himself, a confession dragged from the deepest parts of his soul.

"i never asked for this. i never asked to be emperor. i never wanted to marry her. but my parents, my duty..." his voice cracked, his fists clenching. "they've left me with no choice."

the rawness of his admission struck you like a blow, but you swallowed the ache rising in your throat. this was the ugly truth you had always known, the truth you had seen in the quiet moments when he thought no one was watching.

sunghoon was a man trapped in a cage of his own making, bound by a life that demanded everything from him but gave him nothing in return.

“i would kill anyone who stands in the way of your happiness,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper now, raw with sincerity. “if that’s what it takes… i will do it without hesitation.”

sunghoon didn't say anything. he just stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, but you could see the conflict in his eyes. the way his walls were crumbling, piece by piece.

and then, with a sharp, decisive movement, he broke.

before you could process what was happening, his hands were on you, pulling you up to him with a force that stole the breath from your lungs.

his lips crashed against yours, desperate and hungry, as though kissing you was the only way he could keep himself from falling apart completely.

it was sudden. it was urgent. it was desperate.

it was everything you had been holding back for so long, all at once.

his kiss slammed into you with a force that left you breathless, a bruising, consuming need that neither of you could suppress anymore. you felt it deep in your bones, the way his lips moved against yours with a hunger that bordered on fear — as if he was afraid that if he didn't kiss you now, he'd lose you forever.

you didn't hold back. you couldn't. your hands gripped at his waist, pulling him closer, trying to erase the space between you as if it was the enemy. your fingers curled into the fabric of his coat, desperate to ground yourself in the heat of him, the reality of this moment.

his lips tasted like fire, like the only answer to every prayer you had ever whispered in the dark. and his hands, god, his hands, they clutched at you with the same frantic energy, like you were the one thing keeping him from shattering into pieces.

your fingers traced the sharp lines of his jaw, sliding down to the curve of his neck. every inch of him was warm under your touch, and you were desperate to memorize the feel of him, the way he trembled under your hands.

sunghoon's breathing hitched against your lips, and it only spurred you on. you deepened the kiss, tilting your head, pulling him further into the storm that the two of you had created. his body shuddered against yours, and you knew it wasn't just from the intensity of the kiss — it was the weight of everything unsaid between you. everything that was about to break between you.

but in this moment, none of that mattered.

the kiss spiraled into something more urgent, more primal. you felt all the years of silence, of restraint, breaking apart with each desperate touch. his lips were soft but demanding, moving against yours with a frantic hunger that you had never seen before.

his tongue traced the edges of your mouth, sending a rush of heat through your veins that left you lightheaded. you couldn't get enough of him — his scent, his warmth, the way his hands slid up to your shoulders and clung to you like you were the only thing anchoring him to this damn world.

it wasn't enough. it would never be enough.

you felt the sting of his nails digging into your shoulders through the fabric of your uniform, but it didn't matter. the pain only made everything sharper, clearer. you wanted all of him, every jagged piece of the man who had captured your heart so completely, no matter how much it hurt.

but then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

sunghoon pulled back, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. his lips were swollen and red, his eyes wide and glistening, as if he was trying to process what had just happened. he looked wrecked, like the weight of the kiss — the weight of what you both felt — was too much for him to bear.

and you hated how cold the room felt now, the warmth of his body already fading as the space between you returned.

you didn't let go of him. fuck, you couldn't. your hands were still trembling as they rested against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. it was wild and erratic, matching your own, but even that wasn't enough to soothe the ache building in your chest.

"sunghoon, my love..." you whispered, your voice barely audible.

but the sound of his name coming from your lips made his eyes dart to yours. there was fear there. fear, frustration and something that looked like regret.

“you— you don’t know what you’re asking of me,” he muttered, his voice tight and strained.

his gaze darted away, his hands falling from your shoulders as though the contact was too much to bear.

“you want me to abandon everything. everything i've ever known. everything i was born to do. everything i've ever been. i can’t… i can’t do that, y/n.”

the words hit you like a knife to the chest, and you felt your throat tighten. you could feel the truth, the brutal reality, beginning to claw its way back into the space between you. sunghoon was trapped. as much as he loved you, as much as he wanted to be with you, he was bound to the empire.

you had known this would happen. you had always known it would come to this, but hearing it from him, hearing the defeat in his voice, the finality of it, was way more than you could handle.

"i can’t lose you," you said, your voice trembling. "you know i would give up everything for you. i would leave this place, leave the kingdom, everything, just to be with you. please. we could escape. we could run away and live a life just for the two of us. i don't care about the empire, about the politics, or about your engagement. i only care about you. about us."

for a moment, his mask slipped. his face flickered with an emotion so fleeting, you almost thought you had imagined it — it was a spark of something that looked like hope.

and then, for the briefest heartbeat, you saw him.

the man beneath the title. the sunghoon who had laughed with you under the stars, fought beside you on countless battles, kissed you in the quiet shadows where no one could see. you saw the sunghoon who had stolen your heart and, in return, made you believe in something greater than yourself.

but the moment didn't last.

sunghoon stepped back, retreating into himself, his expression hardening into the stoic mask of the prince he was trained to be. the weight of his crown, of his kingdom, settled back on his shoulders. he was no longer the man you loved.

he was the heir — bound by duty, by legacy, by chains you couldn't see but could feel pressing between you.

“you think i don’t dream about that?” sunghoon's voice cracked, his frustration spilling through the cracks in his composure.

his fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to hold himself together. his eyes bore into yours, searching for an answer, but there was nothing you could give him. nothing either of you could say would change the truth between you.

“you think i don’t want to run away with you? to leave all of this behind? i’ve dreamed about it every day since i met you. every fucking day. but i can’t. i can’t just abandon everything that’s been entrusted to me. i can't abandon my duty, my family, my people. they're counting on me. i can't be selfish, not even for you.”

his words cut through you like a blade.

you wanted to scream, to beg him to stop, to tell him that he was allowed to be selfish, that he was allowed to choose happiness.

but you couldn't. instead, you stepped closer, your heart breaking as you reached for him, your voice trembling as you tried one last time to reach the man you knew still lived beneath the surface.

“you don’t have to carry it alone. let me carry it with you. let me be the one who stands by your side, always. please, you don't have to do this on your own.”

for a moment, he faltered. his shoulders sagged, and his gaze fell to the floor. the weight of what you were asking settled over him, and you could see the war raging inside him — the push and pull of duty and love, of obligation and desire. and for just a moment, you thought he might give in.

but when he lifted his head again, his eyes were filled with a sadness so deep, so consuming, it left you out of breath.

"if i run away with you..." his voice was strained, barely audible, but you could hear the pain in each word. "i would be nothing. a fugitive, a traitor to my people, to my family. and you... you would be too."

his eyes flickered up to meet yours, and the anguish there made your breath catch.

"you deserve more than that, y/n. you deserve to be free. you deserve someone who can give you everything without holding anything back."

your head shook before you even realized it, tears stinging your eyes as you took another step closer. the space between you still felt too vast, too unbearable.

"i don't care about the empire, sunghoon," you said, your voice breaking as your hands cupped his face. you needed him to hear you, to understand. "i care about you. i always have."

he closed his eyes at your touch, his features twisting in a way that made your heart clench painfully. a shudder ran through his body, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might finally let go. that he might finally let himself choose you.

but when his eyes opened again, they were filled with a deep sadness — a sadness that had always lingered beneath the surface, but now it consumed him fully.

“i love you,” he whispered, the words barely audible, as though saying them any louder might destroy him completely. “i love you more than anything. but i can’t leave this kingdom. i can’t abandon my father, my people, my duty.”

the finality of his words slammed into you like a physical blow. your chest tightened, your lungs straining to take in air as the truth settled heavily around you. there was no more room for hope, no more room for the dreams of a future you had once dared to imagine.

it was over.

the empire had claimed him.

and you… well, you had always known that you would be the one left behind, hadn't you?

the silence between you stretched out, unbearable. you felt your hands fall from his face, trembling as they rested uselessly at your sides. your heart ached with the kind of pain you didn't think you'd ever recover from, but you knew you couldn't fight anymore.

you had given him everything — your loyalty, your love, your very soul — and now you had nothing left to give. now he was slipping through your fingers like sand.

“i can’t ask you to choose, sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice raw and broken. “but i can’t stay in a kingdom that has no place for me. not when it means losing you.”

his eyes met yours, his face a mask of conflicted emotions that only made the ache in your chest worse. his lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to say something, anything, to stop you, to make this all go away. but no words came.

and you knew, deep down, that there was nothing he could say.

with a shaking breath, you took a step back, letting your hands fall to your sides. the coldness in the air felt like a physical blow, and you felt as though you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath your feet.

“goodbye, my love,” you said softly, your voice trembling but steady enough to carry the weight of your heartache. “i’ll always love you. always.”

his eyes widened, panic flashing in them like a warning flare. but you didn’t wait for him to respond. you turned away, your heart shattering with every step you took away from him.

the door to his chambers opened with a low creak, and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, your feet carrying you farther and farther away from the only person who had ever truly mattered to you.

he didn’t chase after you. he didn’t call your name.

you hadn't expected him to.

23 notes · View notes