#whelp no choice | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miabebe · 9 months ago

Text

The Intruder's Eye (CSC)

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't make one want to keep an eye at all times?

Pairing - Afab!reader x Choi Seungcheol

Word count - 6K (I failed the below 5k challenge T.T)

Genre - Oof buckle up my friends. This is a halloween special so I tried not hold back - its a psycho-thriller, there's smut and a whole lot of pyscho-ness whelp Warnings under the cut!

A/n - It's the week leading up to Halloween folks! Unfortunately I'm not the biggest fan of clowns and ghosts and vampires etc, but I do love me a good dose of psychos (who I think are scarier btw) so here you goooo! You can also check out Jeonghan's and Joshua's!

Again @tusswrites and @tomodachiii - what would I do without y'all 🫂 this piece is basically all you guys!

warnings - intruder in the house, mentions of stalking, medications, deranged characters, triggering descriptions of a home intrusion, smut, homemade porn (lol), bondage (mouth and hands), blowjobs, cum eating, riding, rough sex, mentions of toys and anal, manhandling, psycho behaviour, please forgive me I can only allow myself to be this unhinged during spooky season

It was the soft pitter patter of the rain against the car window that woke you up.

Slowly fluttering your eyes open, you looked out down the dark, lonely road on the other side, at the street lights were still obscured by the downpour. It's not as torrential as it was when you stepped out of the grocery store a while ago. It was too heavy for you to even drive then so you settled in your car for a while, waiting for the rain to get less harsh. You didn't realise when you fell asleep.

Looking at the 8pm flashing on your phone screen and the way darkness had engulfed everything around, a strange panic rose in you. You weren't really afraid of staying out too late but given the things that had been happening around you recently - you didn't want to take the risk.

Turning on the engine and shifting the gears, you took a deep breath, and started driving towards home.

The street was empty for the most part - not many cars were on the road given the warnings for the incoming storm earlier that day. You didn't have a choice but to leave - you were suddenly running low on supplies, the shopping list in your hand was almost a page long. You glanced at the groceries at the backseat with a satisfied sigh - guess the newfound cardio routine was doing a good job in working up your appetite.

As you neared your house, the streets became more illuminated, much to your relief. Unlike the rest of the town, your neighbourhood was a much safer space - there were streetlights, surveillance cameras and disguised cops always patrolling the area. Most people who resided here didn't know but many of the inhabitants of these row houses were in fact people placed on witness protection. You knew because you were one of them.

One year ago, your testimony in a high profile case had led to some very bad people finding themselves behind bars. In exchange, you were promised protection, leading to your identity being morphed and your life being relocated to this locality. You were promised that nothing would happen to you here, that you would be very safe. You believed it then, but not so much now - not when you turned into your street and noticed the camera at the end of it was short circuited. Perhaps the storms over the last few days had a hand in it.

You didn’t think much of it.

But maybe you should.

Because as you grabbed your groceries and ran to the door, fishing for your keys, you realised you didn't need them. The door was not locked.

You racked your brains to remember if you had locked the door before you left or if you were in too much of a hurry to beat the incoming rain. Your memory is a little fuzzy, it has been like that for awhile, but you were too cold and aching to just get inside to give it any further thought.

You must've forgotten to lock it - what other explanation could there possibly be?

Balancing the bags in one hand, you slowly pushed the door open as you stepped in, flipping the switches with bated breath.

Everything seemed fine, nothing felt out of place. Releasing a breath you tell yourself that everything is fine - you were clearly overthinking things. Paranoia had been a part of your life ever since the proceedings of that case - you were always wary, always suspicious, always scared. Though, you shouldn't be feeling that way anymore, you had taken your medication - you should be fine.

But how were you supposed to feel fine when every small thing made the hair on your skin stand. Like the curtains in the living room being open for example. You never kept the curtains open, especially not since your new neighbour moved in a few months ago.

He called himself Choi Seungcheolwhen he knocked on the door to offer an introduction. You didn't know if that was his real name or the one the cops had given him as a part of the programme. Either way you didn't ask him lest he might ask you yours in return - you didn't need your identity compromised, not when the gang of those convicts was still actively looking for you. You had simply nodded and shut the door.

Since then, you’ve always had the curtains closed. You had to, because somehow every time you looked out, Seungcheol was by his window, watching you. If you were being honest, Seungcheol was hot as fuck and a year ago, if a man like that was interested in you, you wouldn't have let him go. But things were different now - you couldn't trust anyone anymore.

Walking up to the window, you stumbled over the dumbbell in the way as you glanced at the neighbouring house. The two of your houses were the only ones on the street that weren't covered in Halloween decorations. It made sense - you were both single and did not have to deal with whining, crying, demanding children so there was no need for this facade.

But you weren’t that lackluster, you did buy and keep some candy for the trick or treaters though you wouldn’t know if Seungcheol had done the same - he didn't seem too particularly fond of children. He never let them near the house. In fact he never let anyone into his house. You had never seen a woman or a friendly face from town or even a family member step into his place - he pretty much always kept to himself. It’s not like anyone else in this neighborhood had the luxury for such anyway.

At present, there was no sight of him or even his silhouette, with how the curtains of his house were drawn but all the lights were still on. Sighing a little in relief, you do the same, shutting the blinds. Still feeling the weight of the dumbbell against your foot, you pushed it out of the way, wondering how it had displaced itself from the rest of the workout equipment in the first place. You hadn’t even used those in a while now.

Still lost in thought, you walked into the kitchen and as you turned the lights on, a shiver ran down your spine.

Something was off, something did not seem right.

At first glance everything seemed fine, but looking again carefully–nothing seemed right. The apron wasn't in its usual place by the spice rack, you don’t recall leaving out a glass of water on the counter, or leaving a packet of corn chips open. You never leave things out when you leave, you always put them away.

But things like this had been happening ever since you started your medication. You were more forgetful, and that was inconvenient but without your daily dosage it was like a fight between your nerves and caution - anything that moved invoked fear in you, every small sound made you shiver. There was no choice but to take those pills everyday. It was the only think keeping you sane.

Shaking your head, you organized everything back in place again. Everything was fine. You had taken an extra dosage right before you left the house, you were just a little fazed from all the chemicals. Surely it was just your imagination, it wasn't like anyone could have entered the house in your absence….right?

But there was a half eaten bowl of cereal in the sink and you… you were lactose intolerant, you didn't drink milk - that couldn't be yours. Hands shaking, you took a step back.

Someone was in this house.

Quickly opening the drawer, you grabbed a knife, gripping the handle hard and tight. The only question was, were they still in the house?

Wiping the sweat off your face, you took a small careful step out of the kitchen.��

It was quiet, deadly quiet, there was not a sound to be heard, but the hum of the electrical appliances and the soft patter of the rain outside. Then you heard it, ears sharp and sensitive to the sound of water dripping. Slowly you moved towards the washroom, holding your weapon out, breath shaking.

When you cautiously pushed the door open you noticed the floor was wet, water leaking from the shower head, drop after drop. You've never had this problem before, did you have a plumbing issue?

Stepping in, you tried to fix the faucet with your free hand. But no matter how many times you adjusted the hardware, water continued to drip, rendering you unsuccessful in your attempts. It felt like a really strong hand had broken the tap which was silly because you were definitely careful with how you handled your things? Neither could have broken this nor clearly, could you fix it. Annoyed by your failure and the thought of calling maintenance, you stepped out of the shower, catching sight of yourself in the mirror.

There was a strange tiredness etched all over your features, hiding a stranger something behind it. Your eyes had sunken further into their sockets, thin wisps of hair framing your face - You’ve definitely had better days and was… was that a knife in your hand?

You glanced at it quizzically. Why did you step into the shower with a knife?

Softly smacking your head at your silliness, you walked back into the living room, leaving the tap for another day. Half yawning with tiredness were ready to retire for the night when your eyes fell on the grocery bags still waiting for you on the table - you had forgotten about it. Groaning at the thought of having to put everything away, you set the knife on the dining table and grabbed your purchases instead, taking them into the pantry. Perhaps it was because you were too deeply immersed in your organisation, but your otherwise sharp ears missed the rustling of the leaves outside, crunching under someone’s footsteps.

Going through the grocery checklist scribbled in horrible handwriting to make sure you had gotten everything, you swiftly began putting them all in their place. The pastas in the jars, the fruits in the baskets, the sauces in the tray. The heaviest thing you bought was perhaps those huge jars of protein powder. You weren't really sure why you decided to buy it - sure your doctor said you were too weak and needed to exercise to build strength but you didn't need to buy all of the products the Internet recommended to you.

Telling yourself you'll find use for it later, you pushed them onto the shelves and turned to the meat instead, throwing them into the fridge. You didn't really know how to cook meat too well but you wanted to try. Seungcheol had once grilled some meat in his backyard and came over to offer you a few bites. When you tried to take it from him at the door, he pulled his hand back and cocked his head.

“Are you not going to invite me inside?”

He was always trying to make a move on you like that. You knew what he wanted, you knew what he had his eyes on but the answer was, no. You could take the deliciously cooked meat from him but couldn't let him into the house. It was too soon to trust him.

But Seungcheol was relentless.

It was evident with how he was the only one in town who turned up at the video store where you worked. And he came everyday. Normal people didn't borrow a new movie everyday, right? Clearly he was flirting with you. Or at least he was trying to. You only ever behaved professionally with him . Except sometimes, when he asked for movie recommendations of a very specific genre. You didn't really know many serial killer documentaries or crime podcasts to suggest, so you would simply ask a colleague to take over. Over the days, you watched him consume every last bit of thrillers available in the store and distantly wondered if he had a life outside of this consumption.

Perhaps not. Seungcheol seemed a bit odd like that.

He talked to everyone in town but didn't really seem to have any friends. He wasn't home for days together sometimes - you didn't really know the nature of his job so you couldn't tell why his absence was so frequent. He always drove that tiny pickup truck of his with some weird boxes and bags hidden under big blue plastic sheets in the trunk. .

The whole deal about him was just not right. You knew something about him was not right. Even though he was incredibly pleasant on the eye, you had to be wary of him.

You had to be wary of everything. .

But maybe you weren't always as alert as you should be. Because it was only as you were putting away the last of the snacks that you heard that sound - the thumping.

It seemed like it was coming from outside…. Or was it upstairs? It felt like it was coming from right above, like the sound of someone's feet.

And just like that,, you remembered the intruder again - the one who might still be in your home.

Quickly you rushed to grab the knife from the table once more and held it out in defense. Whoever came to the house was most definitely still here, you could feel it in your bones.

As you slowly made your way towards the stairs, trying to maintain a soft footfall to avoid the creaking of the stairs, another sound took you aback.

No, not your racing heart - The doorbell.

Turning sharply, you glanced at the door with wide eyes. Who could it possibly be? At this late hour?

The ringing only became more persistent, morphing into knocks while you inched towards the door, grip on the knife tightening.

As you slowly pressed down the handle and slightly opened the door, you were met with cheerful voices, much to your relief.

“Happy Halloween!”

Before you was a tiny ghost, a pirate, a couple of princesses and a buzz lightyear, all half your height, looking at you surprised.

“Ms. L/n!”

“Hey kiddos.”

“Where's Mr. Choi?” The pirate pouted. “We thought we could finally get him to be nice to us, hand us some treats.”

“Aw.” You pinched his cheek with your free hand. The one that was not hiding the knife behind the door. “Mr. Choi isn't in town sadly.”

The little kid looked at you quizzically. “Then what are you doing in his house?”

Oh.

You blinked at him while he looked up at you expectantly.

Then your lips split into a sweet, saccharine smile.

“He asked me to look after it while he was gone.”

“When will Mr. Choi be back?”

You glanced at the inquisitive little ghost, fiddling with the knife in your hand.

Please, please don't make me use this.

“Do you want an answer or candy?” You cocked your head cheekily. “I'm only giving out one.”

“Candy!” They screamed as you laughed and reached for the packet you had just bought, ripping it open with the knife.

They watched excitedly as you dropped handfuls of chocolate into their little baskets and plastic pumpkins. With a scream of “Ms. L/N is the best!” they scurried away to their next target of the night. And so did you, tossing the knife onto the table once again.

You clutched your head and released a low hiss of irritation at the dull throb.Those stupid medicines were really getting to your head now, you were forgetting too many important things. Thank fuck for the children, otherwise you would have never remembered what really had to be done.

Locking the door behind you, you quickly made your way up the stairs. There was no need to head softly - the stairs had a tendency to creak in your house, not in Seungcheol’s.

The thumping from earlier was more pronounced now as your senses slowly cleared up, much like how the light flooded from underneath the bedroom door. The soft thumps are getting louder and louder as you neared it. With a twist of the knob and swing of the door, you tilt your head with a smile.

Light flooded from underneath the bedroom door, the soft thumping sound getting louder and louder as you neared it. Opening it wide, you cocked your head with a smile.

There he was.

Sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, Seungcheol was looking gorgeous as ever. He was dressed in just his grey sweatpants, the thick muscles of his shoulders and pecs bared before you. His biceps too were popping on either side thanks to the fact that his hands were tied at the back of the chair. Oh and his mouth was gagged shut, his words turning into muffled whimpers as he looked at you wide eyed, halting the stomping of his feet.

“I know, I know, I'm sorry.” You raised your hands apologetically. “I meant to be back soon but you know how I am, forgetful little me. I'm sorry baby.” You neared him, walking around his chair, bending to whisper in his ear. “But I see you're having your fun.”

Your eyes flickered from the tent in his pants to the laptop you left on for his entertainment, right in the line of his vision. You see yourself on the screen, dressed in the hottest lingerie you owned, looking right in the camera with the vibrator held just where you needed him and only one name spilling from your mouth - Seungcheol.

This wasn't the video you played from him before you left for the grocery store - perhaps they were auto playing, lucky him. You had hours of such footage of yourself - in all kinds of positions, with every possible toy, in role play costumes, in every possible color of lingerie, you had an unmatchable variety. The only thing common among all of them was his name. Choi Seungcheol.

Could you be blamed? The man was unbelievably attractive. It wasn't like you didn't try to avoid him, to repel all that magnetism. You were well aware of your nature - it hadn't been long since you had gotten a chance to start afresh and you didn't want to spiral again. You really really didn't.

But Seungcheol was persistent. He wouldn't stop flirting with you at any given chance, he kept trying to invite himself home, he was consistently intrusive. You kept him at bay for the longest time, at least until the day you had to return the box he had left with you, the one in which he gave you the grilled meat.

You didn't expect him to open the door with his shirt off, slick with sweat, flushed and half panting. When you caught sight of the dumbbells behind him, could tell he was working out but somehow you couldn't help but think this was probably how he looked when he fucked and god did that make your mouth water.

That day he shouldn't have invited you in. Then you wouldn't have found your resolve crumbling so weakly. You wouldn't have found yourself under him being pounded like there was no tomorrow. You wouldn't have crossed the line like this.

What started that day set off a cascade of events. Sleeping with Seungcheol became quite a regular act - there was no part of you that he had left unexplored, untouched. He was in every crevice, every cell, you were entirely consumed by him. When you were at work, all you could think about was how well he fucked you the day before. When you were on the way home, all you could think about was how well he was going fuck you today. Even after you reached, you always made it a point to immediately wash up, wear your nicest underwear and knock on his door. You always did it at his house.

He did try to come to your place a couple of times but you consistently steered the two of you back to his house somehow. It was one thing to let him cum in you but to come into your house? You couldn’t have that happening, he’d ask too many questions - why do you never use the garage Y/n? Why was it always locked Y/n? Why did you have a ridiculous number of gardening tools in your house when you don’t even grow any plants Y/n? You knew the questions wouldn't seize and the answers weren’t good for him. They weren't good for anyone who's heard them all these years.

Another reason you didn't want him home was because you didn't want to ruin the surprise.

Now, Seungcheol was a self-sufficient man. He was happy with himself, his life, his home, his solitude. It was evident all he was looking for in you was a good fuck - afterall, he would never ask you to stay the night or to be his girlfriend even though you'd been seeing each other for months. You were okay with that….. for now. The two of you were still exploring, still understanding each other's bodies and limits. You didn't mind him taking his time, you needed your time as well.

You see, Seungcheol loved his home. He loved every piece of furniture, every bowl, every mat - he was incredibly fond of his space, taking all the time and effort in the world to curate it. You, on the other hand, didn't really care much for your house. As long as it could fulfill basic needs and keep you safe, you were good - it wasn't like you stayed for long in one place anyways. But your heart knew that you wanted to stay with Seungcheol for the rest of your life. There was something dark about him too that told you he belonged with you the way you belonged to him. You wanted him to feel like he belonged to you too, you wanted him to feel at home with you. You wanted to be his home.

That's why you took months together to design and turn your house into an identical replica of Seungcheol’s.

And when you say replica you mean down to the T. Everything was the same. You made sure it was the same. All those times he was away for days together thanks to his job, you found yourself slipping into his house taking detailed notes of every object, every piece. You would only see, not touch or take anything away. Come on, you were no thief, thieves are bad people..

After that you had spent all your time online or going from store to store, finding originals and duplicates of his belongings. Given that he loved to have really exclusive pieces in his house they were not easy to procure but with a little sweet talk, a little threatening and a little unspeakable things, you had somehow managed to bring them all home. To the home you were making for him.

Earlier this week, you had gotten hold of the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle - a childhood photo of Seungcheol's family, framed and hung on the wall. It was the hardest thing to get your hands on. His estranged sister would not leave her house for long enough - it took a major occupational accident at her husband's construction site to finally get her moving.

With everything finally in place today, just as the sun began to set, you went over to Seungcheol's house to bring him over at last, to show him what you had done for him. Seeing how his front door was unlocked you stepped in, curiously looking around for him. But that feeling evaporated the moment you heard that sound - the sound of a woman moaning.

It felt like the ground under your feet had slipped. Perhaps that was why you grabbed the baseball bat leaning against the wall, to give your shaking hands something to hold on to as you made your way to his bedroom…. He didn't even bother to shut the door.

There he was, sitting on the bed with his laptop open before him, frantically getting himself off to the video of some pizza delivery girl getting her “payment”.

Porn. He was watching porn.

The moment his eyes fell on you by the door, he quickly tucked his length into his sweats and jumped off the bed, looking at you like you were crazy. Oh no Choi Seungcheol. He didn't just do that. He shouldn't have. Maybe then you wouldn't have swung the bat and knocked him out cold. Maybe he wouldn't have found himself in the middle of the room all tied up when he came around.

You just couldn't understand him. What was the need for him to look at other women or even think of one when you were right there? Was he bored of you? Were you not enough? You did everything you could to keep him - every depraved fantasy, every humiliating act, every time he was rough to bruise you for days together, you took it all, you begged for more. Then why was he doing this?

When he finally opened his eyes, he didn't answer your questions, he was simply screaming to set free. Well of course the only thing you could do was to shut his mouth in some way and with him unable to speak, you had to find other ways to get answers. You needed to find out if Seungcheol was just not attracted to you anymore.

That's why you brought out your video collection, little films you had taken of yourself back when you were still pushing him away, all while wondering what it was like to get fucked by him. His mouth may say whatever but anatomy couldn't lie right? There was something else that could stand up and answer you.

You had meant to stay and watch, afterall, you were proud of the quality of your content but the flashes of thunder outside told you that perhaps it was wiser for you to go to the store first. You knew whatever was going to transpire wouldn't be over any time soon, you had to stock up before the storm locked you in. Besides, it was Halloween night, all the cute little kids would be coming around for candy, you didn't want to miss out on that.

You didn't and thanks to them, you didn't succumb to your forgetfulness and miss out on this either.

“There there.” You cooed, removing his gag and he coughed, unable to regain his ability to speak just yet. You waited for him to come around, walking back to sit on the edge of the bed as he looked at you meekly.

“Water.” He whispered, voice just a little horse.

You raised your eyebrow. How did he manage to sound so sexy all the time?

“Thirsty are we?” You smiled. “I thought my gift might have helped.”

“Y/n please.” He groaned. “What kind of sick joke is this?”

Oh. He thinks it's a joke. A little Halloween scare perhaps. A prank gone overboard. Oh he has no idea.

“I think it's me who you take for a joke.” You glanced down at his raging boner. “Or not, considering how excited you are.”

You got up, leaning over him, hand gripping the back of his chair.

“I'll help you.” You licked your lips. “Either I'll untie you, take my little collection and get out of here. Or I'll help with your not so little predicament with any and every hole I have…. Pick your poison.”

Seungcheol looked at you wide eyed. His breath was shaking, lips were quivering and a hundred and one things seemed to be running behind those pretty eyes.

Slowly gulping, his Adams apple moving with a bob, he shut his eyes.

“It's unbearable.” He mumbled. “It's just…. Please help me.”

And you knew exactly what he wanted you to do.

Sliding off the bed, you got on your knees, crawling up to him, slotting yourself between his legs. Seungcheol’s eyes flew open when your hands found his thigh, a soft sigh tumbling out of his mouth. He loved to fuck your mouth. He loved how eager to please you always were, always trying to take in more of him, always trying to do better. God he loved it.

He watched as you pulled his sweats down the best you could and wrapped your tiny hand around his dick. He was raging hard, the tip flushed in an angry red, precum smeared all over. You were lucky he was in your control now. If he were allowed to have his way, he might just break you.

Stroking him agonisingly slowly, you inched closer to place a small kiss on his tip, the softest interaction that had ever happened between the two of you. Before Seungcheol could even relish that moment you wrapped your lips around his length and took him all the way in. Fucking hell. Seungcheol thought he was going to pass out with how intensely you were blowing him. He wished you'd untie his hands. He'd go anything to just push your head down his dick and feel himself in your throat. That was a sureshot at making him come, these shallow and fast bobs of your head were only aggravating him.

Maybe that's what you wanted. Because the moment he let out his tell tale groan, letting you know he was close, you pulled away with a pop and wrapped your hand around his cock instead. Before he could complain about losing the warmth of your mouth you began stroking him fast thanks to the wetness of your spit and before you knew it, he felt himself reaching that high, meaningless words leaving his mouth. With a few more jerks, he came all over himself in spurts, ropes of white coating his abdomen.

As he tried to battle his feelings of relief after finding a much needed release, disappointment for not coming in your mouth, and slight fear, not understanding what the hell was going on, you slowly let him go, wiping your hand on his sweats. Looking straight into his eyes, you leaned forward, gathering the cum all over his skin with your tongue and showing it to him before you swallowed it. Fuck, Seungcheol felt the blood rushing down there again. He was far from done tonight.

Getting up you looked at him questioningly though you were well aware of the answer.

“Do you need more?”

Unable to do anything else, he nodded slowly, whispering please.

Smirking, you quickly stripped yourself out of your clothes. You would have made a show out of it, tease him slowly but you were equally desperate to fuck him so you quickly abandoned that idea. Throwing your garments somewhere, you clambered onto his lap, aligning yourself over his dick. You didn't need any prep or lube, you were practically dripping from just blowing him.

Slowly sinking onto his length you threw your head back, finally feeling full. Seungcheol moaned too, burying his face between your boobs as you bottomed out, your grip like a vice. Holding onto his shoulders you began fucking yourself on his length, snapping your hips relentlessly. You could tell the feeling was too much for Seungcheol too as he bit on the soft skin of your breasts. It stung painfully but you let him - you always let him do whatever he wanted to you anyways.

“Tired?” He looked up at you with a triumphant smirk as your pace began to falter thanks to the not so comfortable position of your legs. “Are you finally going to ask me for help?”

You shook your head. You didn't want him to have the upper hand anymore.

“Don't be stubborn, doll. You know it's better when I have my hands on you.” He ran his tongue along your breast, relishing the sweet and salty taste of you. “Untie my hands and we can make this better y/n. I know how much you love my fingers up your ass, and how much you like the grip on my hands all over you and how much you want me . Come on baby, untie me.”

You didn't want to, you really didn't want to but a part of you knew he was right. He could make you feel so good.

Reaching over you pulled on the knot holding his hands together and in a flash his hands gripped the bottom on your thighs and with the sheer strength of his that you loved, he got up, lifting you along with him. Immediately pinning you to the wall, he began thrusting into you, drawing out the most exquisite moans from you as he hit the spot again and again and again. When unable to hold it anymore, you came around him, he tossed you onto the bed, pounding into you mercilessly, making you cum around him one more time before he painted your ass and back with his own release. Even then the night was far from over.

After that he fucked you almost till dawn, pushing you to the limit as he made you cum so many times, you couldn't even keep count anymore. All you knew was that every bit of your body was screaming and creaming in pleasure - it was confirmed, you had to have Seungcheol for life, you had to do whatever it took to keep this insane man forever. You didn't know how but you could think about that later. For now, as day break approached, the two of you passed out in his bed.

Seungcheol looked at you under the afternoon sun streaming into his room. You were fast asleep - he tried waking you up a couple of times but you just would not budge. Finally giving up he resorted to just staring at you.

Last night was…. better than Seungcheol’s wildest dreams. He always knew he was a bit of a freak, but he didn't think he'd find someone to match it in this quiet town he had been reluctant to relocate to. Even when he first met you, he thought you'd be one sweet love making session at most but you took him completely by surprise. You were as wild as he was - you were down for anything he asked, you never said no and most importantly, you enjoyed it all. Seungcheol thought he had hit the jackpot with you.

But yesterday was most definitely not normal. At that time he was thinking with his dick because all the blood in his body was clearly there but as he looked back at what happened, nothing about it was right. You had knocked him out, tied and gagged him up before you left him. You had hours of footage of you pleasuring yourself to the thought of him…

Seungcheol had noticed the dates. It was way before the two of you had begun your little arrangement and he didn't know what to think about that. There were tiny sirens going off in his head telling him to run as fast as he could but Seungcheol couldn't stop staring at you. You were ridiculously beautiful and he just had the best sex of his life last night.

When you whined softly and turned over in your sleep, Seungcheol finally rolled off the bed and dressed himself. Finding your scattered clothes on the floor he gathered them, looking at them with a frown. He couldn't have you wear these again and his clothes were far too big for your tiny frame. Maybe it was time to start making room in his closet for a few of your clothes.

Knowing how tired you must be given last night's events, he silently fished out the keys from the pocket of your pants and decided to bring you a fresh pair from your house.

He shouldn't have gone over. He never should have stepped into your house. Maybe then the tiny sirens in his head wouldn't have become a full blown ringing.

If he had never discovered the truth of your house, if he wasn’t staring at an exact replica of his space, maybe he would've never come to terms that last night was indeed extremely abnormal.

You were not normal.

Something was very very wrong with you, the dozens of medications on the dining table were a testament of that. Seungcheol knew he had to go. He had to leave you and that house and this town. He needed to run away from this madness.

But when he turned to leave, he felt his heart stop just for a second.

There you were, right at the door, dressed in yesterday's clothes, looking at him expressionlessly. Your eyes ran over his face as he felt the hair on his skin stand.

He had to go, he had to get the hell out of here.

“Oh baby.”

You cocked your head at him, leaning against the frame with a small smile.

This was an expression you had never seen on Seungcheol's face before - a mix of shock and fear and repulsion. You could tell he wanted to run. You knew he would end things now, you knew it was over but alas, it was too late to let him go.

You couldn't let him go.

Taking a step ahead, you slowly closed the door behind you, inching closer to him, yesterday’s knife stashed safely in the back pocket of your pants.

“Do you want to see what's in my garage?”

A/n - As usual, comments and reblogs are much appreciated - I'd love to hear your thoughts, it really helps :) You can also read Jeonghan's and Joshua's :)

578 notes · View notes

aspenvelaz · 1 year ago

Text

ASPEN IS GETTING MARRIED!…To an asshole?

(This is an open rp despite being mostly for Aspens lore😊)

They sigh and continue massing with their hair. It’s been pinned in some intricate updo by their father, because of course it has. They’re not particularly a fan of the long curls they received after they were put back together, but they’ll manage.

“🫀This thing is heavy as fuck.🫀”

“It’s a wedding gown what did you expect Leo?”

The brother whom they had torn the intestines out of earlier today is now attempting to fluff their over the top gigantic gown. Key word. Attempting. They sigh and just start walking towards the ballroom where the ceremony will be held.

“🫀Im gonna find a seat.🫀”

Leo runs off and they sigh. Alone, again. Marrying a male they met last month…whelp, that was their own choice. Too late to regret it now. Their father takes their arm and they enter the room. Ceremony happens, they kiss the groom, their dad takes photos, all the fun stuff.

Aspen just wants to sit down and take a nap. But they can’t so they settle for downing as much elderberry juice as they can to avoid their new husband.

The dress(heavy asf Aspen is suffering) and hair:

763 notes · View notes

derinthescarletpescatarian · 5 months ago

Note

they made ai computers out of human brains, from your book "don't make ai computers out of human brains"!

Whelp, no choice but to end up with a Disaster Spaceship now.

379 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 8 months ago

Text

Jungkook

YEARNING || Trust

There's always choices to be made.

Tags/Warnings: Dragonblood!Prince!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, Some fluff if you squint?, Jungkook is emotionally constipated oops

Length: 5k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“You’re so gentle with them, it’s really nice to see.” Taehyung says, as he watches you help clean the still soft scales of the young dragon in your lap. “It’s like you’ve got a natural talent for it.”

“I wouldn’t call it talent.” You laugh, gently running the damp towel over the head of the heavy but still young creature in your lap, it’s eyes closed in bliss as it’s resting on your thigh, nearly asleep. “Isn’t it a.. normal instinct to care for children?”

“Children of your own kind, maybe.” Seokjin sighs. “But normally, humans don’t see anything positive in the whelps other than monetary value.” He mumbles, preparing food for the smallest hatchlings.

“Jin..” Taehyung warns softly, but you shake your head.

“no, he’s right.” You sigh. “and I’ll probably never understand how you can look at these beings and feel.. nothing.” You mostly talk to yourself, as someone else enters.

“Its good to see you up.” Namjoon offers. “I’m sorry for not having taken into account how sending Yoongi must’ve looked to you.”

“Its nothing to apologize for. I overreacted.” You wave off. “I hope he wasn’t scolded?” You worry, but Namjoon shakes his head.

“No, Jungkook understood.” He nods, before he seems to fall into thought. “which actually… would you like to accompany him and myself today? We will be taking a regular look at the borders later.” He asks, and both Seokjin and Taehyung share a look that shows only confusion.

But you nod. You reckon its most likely to show you a way to leave from, and where to go so you can truly make your way out of this place without getting in the way again. “good. I’ll come back later to fetch you.” He nods, before he leaves.

“Border patrol? That seems.. weird.” Taehyung bluntly states.

“Its mostly weird that he’d want you there.” Seokjin says towards you, who just shrugs.

“Maybe to give me an idea where not to cross again.” You explain. “It’s likely. Considering I can’t stay.”

“I still don’t get why not.” Taehyung huffs to himself, disappointed. “You’re so good with the hatchlings, and you’re clearly nice. Yoongi gets to stay too, why not you as well?” he mumbles to himself as Seokjin gives him a bottle to feed to the already jumping baby at his legs.

“I’m sure he has his reasons.” You simply say, as you help feed the small dragons, making it clear that you do not want to talk about it any further.

It’s later on that you realize Namjoon must’ve forgotten to tell Jungkook that you’ll be accompanying the two of them- because the glares the prince keeps sending his advisor could surely kill at any given chance.

And the biggest reason for that, is that apparently, Namjoon had forgotten that he can’t actually tag along at all, leaving the prince and you alone.

“You can just show me where to go, and send me off.” You tell him, as he rides closer to the border, horse calm but curious while Jungkook makes sure to keep an eye on you riding close to him, on one of the horses usually meant for other riders who patrol the borders.

“…you won’t leave today.” He mumbles, frustrated with himself. “...unless you want to, of course.” He offers, but you just sigh, petting the horse’s neck.

“I don’t think I could make that decision on my own.” You answer him, earning his full attention. “I would just act selfishly.”

“How so?” He asks, steering his horse past a few rocks.

“I would stay.” You shrug. “I don’t.. know why. Being here makes me feel guilty, and yet something inside of me craves to stay.” And at those words, Jungkook begins to feel guilty himself. If it wasn’t for his weird situation, you wouldn’t be stuck feeling like this.

Wait. You.. Shouldn't be feeling anything connected to the bond. This whole thing should be one-sided.

“Did you.. Are you sure your mother was entirely human?” He asks you, as the horse tilts its head a little to look at something for a second, before Jungkook steers it back on track. You shrug, before you nod.

“Very sure.” You say. “I’ve.. Seen some Hiwern women fleetingly, these past times I’ve been here. And she looked nothing like them.” You respond to him.

“And what about your father?” Jungkook asks- feeling you sigh.

“He died, during the last war.” You say, making Jungkook tense up. “I remember him leaving, when he was drafted. He.. Really didn’t want to fight, but he couldn’t risk us getting punished for his actions either.” You shake your head.

“Fear is a powerful emotion.” Jungkook says. “It’s however still brave to face it as an act to protect one’s family. Honorable, even.” He admits, despite his natural.. Negative feelings towards anyone who fought against his own kind.

“He wasn’t scared.” You deny however, causing him to perk up in interest. “He just.. Really didn’t want to fight. Because he felt like.. The enemy wasn’t his.” You explain. “That’s what my mom said.”

It’s quiet for a moment. What you say paints a different picture to how the war had been taught to him- if your father didn’t want to go to war against the Hiwerns and dragons, how many felt the same, but were forced to do so to protect their loved ones?

This is all getting way too muddy for his liking. Everything seems to blur and bleed, no clear lines visible anymore to him.

However, looking at you from a new perspective, he has a hunch as to who your father might’ve been. “Did he ever become a defector by chance?” Jungkook wonders, and you shrug.

“I’m not sure. My mom.. Mentioned something like that, but we never really got any definitive proof.” You explain. “All we had was a letter, and uhm.. This.” You say, pulling a necklace out of your coat, Jungkook taking a look at the tag on it- a silver soldier’s tag to be specific. “Someone told my mom that the three lines scratched in there mean he surrendered.” You say, and Jungkook leans over to inspect the tag a bit closer-

And you’re not quite right about the meaning of those three lines.

The three lines were a sign of acceptance- symbolizing a dragon’s footprint, they’ve been scratched into soldier’s tags after they did something meaningful for the Hiwern people. Simply surrendering would only really gain soldiers a way out.

This means that your father must’ve been accepted at some point.

“Hm. How did you get that?” Jungkook asks, letting go of the necklace for you to tuck away back beneath your clothes again.

“It was given back to us, together with his body.”

Jungkook quiets down at that. He doesn’t want to imagine your mother having to explain to you that your father would never return back home- that he was dead, and gone forever. A child shouldn’t have to grow up without any of the parents missing- but the world is a cruel place, and people always end up hurting themselves for nothing.

Jungkook quietly brings you both back to Taehyung and the rest- leaving you with them, while he himself investigates his own suspicions a bit further. If your father really got accepted, there has to be records of it somewhere in the archives, and Namjoon is the one keeping track of it all.

Because if what you say is true, then there has to be evidence of this somewhere.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“There. The Number on the tag is the same.” Namjoon offers, having finally found an entry that seems to be what Jungkook has been looking for. A few documents written about him, and a small leather bound book, a journal most likely. It’s common for soldiers to write one after all- to leave something behind for their families if they don’t end up making it back.

And your father didn’t. It’s a shame he never even got to give it to you either.

He skips over some things, before something catches his attention. “..proved his bravery as he fought for his kind, and not against it.” Jungkook furrows his brows. “..despite his actions of mingling with the human kind, he still kept his dragon heart and stayed loyal to the tooth.” Jungkook reads.

“He was a Hiwern?” Namjoon wonders, surprised. “Well that certainly changes things.” He mumbles, looking over Jungkook’s shoulder to read what’s written down in the memorial book for himself. “So she is a hybrid Hiwern. Very interesting..” Namjoon says, as he instantly moves to look for something, while Jungkook is left behind.

Your father basically gave up his place within the lines and kingdom of the Hiwern people- just to be with your mother? He looks through the pages to find the mention of you and your brother- children he had raised as his own, even though you and your brother were not his.

This is just getting more and more confusing.

‘When I found her, naked and left to join the course of nature out in the winter, I did not hesitate to take her in as my own, despite the fact that she was not mine.’

Is written down in the journal pages attached to the memorial entry for your father. The leather of the booklet is worn and torn from age, so its not unusual to find the pages loose and out of order, a lot most likely missing entirely.

‘She was neither this nor that- discarded as a mistake meant to be forgotten.’

Jungkook sits down near a window, crossing his legs in a more comfortable position as he continues to read the handwriting.

‘they were not the same, but I raised them as such.’

He writes further, with that most likely meaning that your brother was his lover’s son, while you were not- but that he didn’t make any difference between you or your brother.

‘They are my children, cared for by my beloved, who had longed for another child for way too long, but was denied by nature to never receive one from me.’

Jungkook has to imagine the situation, somewhat. Has to think of what your childhood between all those humans must have been like, unaware of why you actually were. And he does admit that you do have something strangely familiar to him, even though he does not know you. Like a fable told to him years ago, as if you’d jumped out of those tales, made by the words and descriptions written down. If you have even just a hint of dragon’s blood in you, his attraction would finally make sense.

He flips through the pages of the journal, some of them burned, dirty, or torn. Your father most likely held onto them until the very last, before he gave them to the libraries to be archived.

‘Is it odd that I feel like she is starting to look like my beloved? Not in appearance, but in mannerisms. The way she hums the same song as her mother, the way she brushes her hair alongside her in the mornings, the way she carries the basket to help with the gardening. I see my beloved in her, every day a bit more. And I feel soothed by the thought that she will carry those parts of her even once we will no longer be here to watch over her.’

Jungkook’s heart aches for your father. He most likely never found out what happened to his partner, how she was taken away by force of the law, and not by the simple rule of time.

‘She will one day do well amongst the Hiwern people. She belongs there, I feel it every time I see her watch the dragons above with a certain sense of longing. One day I will bring her there, because her real home is amongst them.’

This catches Jungkook’s attention, as he remembers how you’d told him how you feel almost as if you’re pulled towards this place, instead of your former home. If your father was right, it would most likely be the blood yearning to go home, where it belongs, even though it’s not pure.

Your father is right, he decides, as he moves a bit to close the book. You belong here, even if he himself isn’t too fond of the thought. He has no right to deny you your place.

A piece of a page falls out and onto his boot, making him pick it up to read it, sentence cut but context still very clear on the burned scrap.

‘...oever it might be that one day might reach out for her hand;’

‘please, do not leave her out in the cold again. Dragons need warmth, after all.’

“Jungkook?” Namjoon asks, making the prince mindlessly tuck the torn piece of yellowed paper into the pocket of his coat, before he looks up. “what will you do now?”

“Well, I believe all the bits and pieces fit together.” He sighs. “from the way the younglings act towards her, to the memorial entry and the tag of her father. I can’t deny her a place here.” He accepts a bit reluctantly.

“And the bond?” Namjoon asks, watching the prince intently.

“Can wait. I don’t.. I can’t make a decision about that right now.” He refuses to answer properly, getting up after giving the book to his friend.

As he walks through the several bridges connecting the tunnels and houses hidden inside the mountains, he finds his interest sparked as a lot of the youngest dragons seem to be on the hunt for something- clumsily crawling over the grounds of a larger mountain top where much grass has grown, edges protected by fences to make it safe. The youngest are poking their heads around stones and trees, playing around it appears like. “Hide and seek.” You explain from behind him, partially hiding beneath, ironically, a large stone carving of the daughter of the mountains. “Seokjin said it trains their hunting instincts.” You explain, watching the little hatchlings searching for their ‘prey’- finding Taehyung who didn’t put too much effort into his hiding spot as to not make it too hard.

“How can you be a good example to them, showing yourself so openly?” Jungkook.. teases? You’re caught off guard for a good second, and don’t notice his hand in the pocket of his coat feeling the folded paper.

“Well, I mean-“ you stammer. “it’s not like you’re gonna hunt me..” you say, when you spot the way his lips begin to curl up, a sparkle in his eyes flickering. And somehow, there’s some odd internal words exchanged, or something else you can’t quite figure out.

“What makes you so sure?” He asks, eyes still on you-

When you suddenly run off, hearing the prince running right after you, Taehyung laughing together with someone else as the Hiwern chases you around the small patch of grassy grounds, your own laughter soon joining in as you try your hardest to escape the dragon blood, opting to climb a tree he doesn’t follow you up on.

Instead, he stands at the tree’s roots, arms crossed, chest rising and falling from his quickened breathing. “You will have to come down at some point.” He challenges.

“I will, when you’re gone!” You call back towards him.

“I have time, and patience. I can wait.” He responds, and at that you move to sit more comfortably on the thick branch, looking down at him.

“Have you found out more about my father?”

He’s caught off guard by this, and sighs, moving to face away from you, leaning against the stem of the old tree. “I did.” He responds. “how did you know?”

“You’re very easy to read.” You simply answer, swinging your legs.

“am I?” He scoffs, and you laugh.

“Yes. Very.” You dig the dagger deeper, and he rolls his eyes- not that you can see. “He was a good man. I hope he was remembered as such.”

“He was archived as a very good man.” Jungkook reassures you.

“He was one of you, wasn’t he?”

“he was.” Jungkook responds.

“it’s funny.” You say, watching the other hiwern afar struggle with one of the bigger helps. “if he’d never met his lover, never found me, do you think fate would’ve still created me?” You wonder.

Jungkook believes that in that case, he wouldn’t exist either. Because if the complimentary part to his blood did not exist, why would he?

“we will never know.” He answers because of that.

And that’s where he leaves you- figuratively, and literally.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

The next morning, everyone already seems to be busy and scrambling around, as he opens the windows to watch multiple staff hurry to wash clothes and sheets outside in the gardens on top of the hills and smaller mountains. This wouldn’t be unusual-

But there’s also medical personnel running around, instructing male and female maids to fetch things needed left and right.

A knock on his door is heard. Namjoon steps inside, bows politely. “whats going on?” Jungkook wants to know, wary now that he can see his friend place down a tray of water, breakfast and a steaming mug of herbal tea with a distinctive smell.

“There’s been multiple reports during the night of Hiwerns feeling sick. We’re still investigating, but the symptoms do point towards an outbreak of Scale Haze. One of the mother dragons must’ve brought it in.” Namjoon explains, as Jungkook takes the tea into his hand to sip the bitter liquid. “it also seems as if we might be.. getting our proof. About her blood, I mean.”

At that, Jungkook’s interest is peaked- though his gaze is alarmed, rather than curious. “She caught it too?” He asks, and Namjoon nods.

“She has the same symptoms.” Namjoon says, which makes the prince turn towards him fully.

“All the symptoms?” He asks, and namjoon nods.

“All of them.” He says, sitting down at a small table where Jungkook’s breakfast was placed, the Hiwern prince sitting down to eat while he listens. “fever, confusion, nausea, you name it.. but she’s visibly struggling a lot more than even the younger dragons.” He sighs.

“Her human side.” Jungkook says, speaking out loud what his friend is hinting at. Namjoon nods.

“Her body isn’t as good at dealing with it, especially the fever. But we’re trying our best.” He says.

“Make sure she gets the treatment she needs. Isolate her from the rest if necessary.” Jungkook mumbles, crossing his arms.

“You can see her and the others, if you’d like. But only from afar.” Namjoon instructs as Jungkook finishes his breakfast. “it might boost their morale. I’ve heard humans especially benefit from emotional support during sickness.” He says, as the prince gets up to get dressed.

“We’ll see how much is true about that theory.”

When Jungkook later on enters the rooms where the currently sick are being treated, he sees what he expected. Scale Haze is like a viral infection amongst dragons after all- it happens, though any kingdom or group should try to avoid it due to it being a pretty nasty ride, and very dangerous for the very young and elderly. But when he reaches the room you’re held in, he’s not prepared for just how bad you’re coping.

If one could even call it coping.

You’re asleep, or at least not conscious, sweat on your skin, while several maids tend to you, making sure to keep you both comfortable and your temperature down as much as possible. “Is there anything she needs?” Jungkook questions, but the tending maid shakes her head.

“Yoongi has gone through a fever before too, and he survived. She will be just fine.”

And while Jungkook doesn’t quite believe that fully, he has no choice but to exit the halls of the sick, to keep himself safe, and the kingdom running as always. He might not want it to be so, but the sight of you in such a miserable state hurts him physically, due to the bond, mostly. It’s growing steadily with every breath you share near him apparently, getting stronger every day.

A decision has to be made soon- but for now, the prince needs to focus on his own duties.

And yet, over the course of the next few days, he’s constantly distracted by the thought of you- how you’re doing, if there’s anything changing at the very moment, or if there was anything he could do to somehow make it easier on you. He catches himself watching the window often, always anticipating the moment you’ll join the other recovering Hiwerns outside- but do you even need sunlight to recover properly?

He knows from reading here and there, that humans do indeed need sun exposure here and there, but that they can also burn their skin since its a lot more sensitive. But the more he thinks, the more he starts to become a bit more confused.

Your father was a Hiwern. That much is certain. But your mother was not your biological one- he had found you out in the woods. True, you don’t look like you have full dragon blood- but maybe you’re just an anomaly. It happens, after all- from Dragons born without scales, to missing their wings or being unable to fly. The same goes for Hiwern people- they come in all shapes and sizes, taller, shorter, blind or deaf, missing their markings or having more prominent marks than others.

Why does this occupy his mind so much?

“They’re having a bit of trouble with your mate.” Yoongi teases as he sits down in front of Jungkook, setting down a few papers meant to be signed and sent off to another Hiwern Hideout.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, alarmed- but also, surprisingly enough, no longer fighting the term used to refer to you any longer, as if he’s starting to accept it, slowly but surely. “Did something happen?”

“She’s recovering, so calm down.” Yoongi reassures him. “But the caretakers are having quite a hard time keeping her in bed. She’s quote, ‘acting worse than any other hatchling’, I’ve been told.” He says, and Jungkook sighs, running a hand over his face.

“What is she doing?” The Hiwern asks, and Yoongi laughs under his breath.

“Helping, as she calls it.” He explains. “She watches out for any chance, and then strikes to take over any task she can manage. It does help, but it’s also very obvious that she should slow down a little.”

This alone makes Jungkook visit you later on, arms crossed as he observes you wash some of the clothes. “You should be resting.” He scolds, and you jump at that, instantly turning around to face him.

He has to admit- looking at him like that, he couldn’t ever really see himself getting extremely angry at you.

He takes the fabric you’re currently holding onto from you, before he waves an actual caretaker over to do the task for you, keeping a hand on yours as he drags you back to what he remembers was your bed in the makeshift quarters. “But- I’m doing better!” You complain.

“Better is not good enough. You’re supposed to rest, not prolong your sickness because you don’t give your body enough time to recover.” He denies your complaint, only letting go of you once you sit on your bed again.

“I’m not contagious anymore.” You argue once more with crossed arms- just like he is standing in front of you.

“I don’t care.” He answers.

“I can help-” You try again, and he’s quick to shut you down.

“Not like this.” Jungkook denies.

“But I can’t just lay around and do nothing.!” You whine, clearly agitated over this.

Jungkook sighs. He can understand that you’re most likely restless, he himself knows the feeling well- but there’s nothing he can really do in this moment. He doesn’t want you to be harmed by your own stubbornness, but he doesn't want you close either because he knows he won’t be able to properly handle that.

But he’s unable to resist any further it seems like.

Because hours later he’s working on reading through the documents before signing them, while you’re sleeping on his bed of all places, dozing away what’s left of your sickness in your body, and this alone makes him feel lighter, in a way. He watches you for a good little moment, just thinking about what would really happen if he was to just give in, and reach out for you.

Would it really be as horrible as he thought it would be?

You’re basically almost the same, simply a little different, but nothing near impossible to make work. Your father seemed to have been just fine raising his children alongside a human mate- and even though Jungkook’s position is very much a different one, no one could ever blame him for just wanting to be selfish at least once in his life.

Until now, his entire existence had always been devoted to his role of future leadership. It’s always been about what he can offer to the people, to the small little kingdom left to his kind- but he wants to just be stubborn for once. Betray his title and gain something that’s simply just for himself, and not to be shared with others.

He wonders if it could work.

And if it would-

How his life would turn around.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

While you didn’t sleep in his chambers, but rather returned to your very own soon after your nap and a decent meal, Jungkook still feels as if your scent alone left on his pillows offered him a sense of company at night.

Now, this morning, it’s obvious that you’re recovering well- though you still seem rather tired. He can’t help himself when he spots you laying down on a blanket outside in the gardens where other dragons currently reside as well-mostly mother dragons taking care of their recovering younglings. When he walks closer, you don’t seem too alarmed, though you sit back up properly, as if you expect him to say or ask something.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he sits down on the blanket with you, wordlessly patting his leg as if to invite you to lay your head there- and you do so, unsure yourself as to why this seems so impossible to deny. There’s a strange attraction in yourself that you cant properly explain yourself- as if you’ve known him forever, and want to be as close as you can be, just because everything feels better the closer you are.

So you watch from where you’re laying down now, with your head on his thigh, how the mother dragons curl up for a nap in the sunlight as well, resting as they recover from their illness. “How are you feeling?” He asks, and you notice his hand resting on your waist by now, casually, with no other clear intentions. You simply nod, eyes closed, and he can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes him at the sight of you so blissful.

It’s a clear and obvious sign that while your body might be painfully human, your blood is still a dragon’s- and it’s calling out to his own, reaching out and clinging to him already.

“When do I have to leave?” You ask, still not opening your eyes- and his hand moves a little at that, adjusting its position as he sighs.

“You don’t.” He admits. “You belong here.”

“Do you want me here?” You ask, now looking up at him. “it’s fine if you don’t. You know.. I can maybe travel to another Hiwern outpost then-“ you explain, but he shakes his head.

“No, you will stay here.” He denies. “I.. there is something I need you to know.” He starts, and you nod, slowly sitting up- and while he internally doesn’t like it, he has to let it happen, mind aware that putting at least a bit of distance between you two is for the best, especially considering the topic he’s about to begin. “Hiwerns.. have mates.” He says, and you lean your head a little to the side in confusion. “It’s a blood connection, so to speak.”

“And I am yours?” You ask, making him nod as an answer.

“There’s.. no real bond yet, but it is why I’m holding you at arms length.” He admits to you. “I am in a position of power, and every move and decision I make has to be carefully calculated.” Jungkook explains. “But I can’t help but.. crave to be selfish.”

“selfish?” You wonder, unsure what he means. “Because you want to.. I guess, accept that bond-mate thing?” You ask, and he nods- avoiding eye contact now. “But how would that be selfish? It’s not like I’d automatically fall into power as well.”

This makes him stutter, he’s widening as he realizes you’re right.

You’d gain nothing from this. You’d simply be his mate, but other than that, nothing would change. He’d been worried about how he’d be perceived by the other people under his ruling, but at the end of it all, you are right. It’s not selfishness-

If anything, his act of simply seeking out an emotional and physical connection to someone else, taking on a lover and mate, just makes him painfully human.

And is that truly such a mistake?

“You’re right.” He nods after a moment of thinking. “You’re right.” He repeats softer, and you smile.

“so-“ you start, leaning a bit closer to him to finally catch his gaze again.

“Does that mean I’ll finally get to know you?”

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“You accept her?” Namjoon wonders as be walks into Jungkook’s office, where he stands to watch outside of his window, observing you help some others in hanging up laundry. Jungkook nods.

“Its up to her to accept me now.” He says. “she wants to get to know me first.”

“So?” The fellow Hiwern laughs. “What are you doing in here then? It’s hard to get to know someone else by simply staring from afar.” He jokes, and Jungkook sighs, crossing his arms.

“I don’t.. know what she thinks she’s going to find.” He says, a little frustrated. “I don’t know what she wants to find.”

“I don’t think she wants to find anything specific.” Namjoon denies, walking to stand next to his friend. “I believe she just.. wants to know who you are.”

“She knows.” Jungkook frowns. “my name, my place, my history. What else is there to know.” He argues.

“What you like and dislike. What you dream of, or what you enjoy eating. What you were like as a child, or what you like to do in your free time. Jungkook, just.. be yourself for once. You can be a leader any other time of the day-“ he advises, a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “-But please, take this chance.”

Take this chance.

It’s a little later that morning that he finally finds the courage to seek you out again- this time finding you way down at the foot of the mountains, where you’ve agreed to help a group of Hiwerns in bringing a few horses back that they have traded with a human outcast near the border.

“Does this happen often?” You wonder, as you walk towards Jungkook , holding the reigns of a dark brown horse. “trading with humans, I mean.” You wonder, not even seemingly surprised that he’s there.

“not often, no.” He denies, taking the reigns from you before he walks besides you back to where the horses are hidden from sight. “we have.. contacts that we trust, and that is where we leave it most of the time. It’s purely business more often than not.” He admits.

“Hm. Because new connections aren’t really trustworthy yet, I guess...” you say, making the prince nod.

“Trust has to be earned, and nurtured. It’s not to be freely given away.” He agrees, and you stay silent for a few steps, before you speak again.

“How.. can I earn your trust?” You ask, as he gives the reigns to another person who brings the new horses into their stables, leaving you and Jungkook behind.

The prince seems to think for a moment, before he answers.

“I don’t know.” He says.

“You know, answers like that.. make me trust you.” You admit, a drop of water falling onto your shoulder, skies having darkened a little with heavy clouds. “because you’re honest.” You say, and Jungkook turns to look at you.

“You deserve honesty.” He simply offers, making you smile.

“thank you.” You respond, and he can’t help the way his lips tilt upwards as well, smile creeping up on him by the sight of you.

“come on now. Before it starts to rain.”

On the way back, he notices it again- the song you hum, while holding your own hands behind your back, walking with your steps easy and light. You really do look right at home in this place- you seem to glow almost, like an animal set free into its natural habitat. It’s no wonder that he feels enchanted already- he’s almost convinced that even without the blood-bond, he’d have found interest in you either way.

So he finally sets himself free as well, as he walks closer, and moves his own hand between yours to take hold of your palm. It’s a wordless gesture, but the fact that he interlocks his fingers with yours to keep you at his side makes it obvious what he’s trying to tell you with it.

“I’ll have to help take down the laundry again before it rains.” You say, but he shakes his head as he leads you somewhere else.

“the maids can do that.” He denies. “right now, I’d like.. your company.” He asks almost, and you laugh.

“my company? For what?” You repeat, bumping a bit into him- surprised however to see him smile so openly at you now.

“to get to know you.”

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic

258 notes · View notes

dark-konohagakure2 · 9 months ago

Note

If the requests are still open, can you write obsessive Anbu!Itachi breaking into the house of his civilian crush (f) just to record her being passionate with her actual bf and then use the tape to blackmail her into secretly getting with him instead? 👀

tw: noncon, stalking anbu!Itachi, voyeurism, blackmail, blowjobs, facials, nonconsensusal photography, threats, yandere, victim blaming, stalking, power imbalance

All characters depicted are 18+

Itachi is nothing but grateful for his promotion to the role of captain on the Anbu Black Ops, it is both an honor and a great responsibility, one which allows him to keep close eye on and protect those dear to him, such as his village, his younger brother, and his future girlfriend.

Of course doesn't know that she's going to be his girlfriend very soon, but he does, but there is one annoying little problem standing in his way, her current so-called 'boyfriend'. Itachi can't wrap his head around why she would deign to be involved with someone so painfully average. He isn't as smart, powerful, or handsome as Itachi, and if what Itachi has seen through her window in the late hours or the night is true; he's certainly not as good in bed as Itachi.

It enrages Itachi to no end that his beloved has already lost her virginity to such an inferior man. While a pacifist at heart, Itachi would love nothing more than to show that whelp what never ending terror is, to make him pay for stealing Itachi's property, but the Uchiha holds back on his more vengeful urges, instead deciding to rectify the situation with a little bit of negotiation.

Itachi has fancied himself as a something of a photographer lately, being a part of the Anbu he needs to occasionally snap photo's for evidence, or in more insidious cases: blackmail. He doesn't delight in blackmailing people, especially not the object of his affections, but her infidelity has left him with little choice but to go to these measures, and he'll be sure to chide her for being such a bad girl as he shows her all the photos he's collected.

"Don't be so dramatic now, you should have known better than to keep your curtains open like that. I can make these photos go away, if you just get on your knees, that is..."

Itachi is still resentful of the fact that he didn't get to fuck her pussy before that pitiful excuses of a lover of her's, but he's able to look on the bright side of things; at least he gets to fuck her throat first. In all of his time spent stalking the couple, he's only seen them have plain old penis in vagina sex, how utterly boring. Since he's getting her throat first, he's going to make an impression on it, one that will render her throat so sore that she won't be able to talk without thinking about him.

He'll force his cock in and out of her mouth at a pace that is nearly impossible for her to adjust to, his balls slapping against her chin as he claims her throat as his personal cocksleeve. Part of him, the more malicious part of him, wants to snap a photo of her choking on his cock and send it to her worthless boyfriend, but he holds back for the time being. After all, what's the point of blackmail if he can't hold it over her head for as long as possible?

He'll draw it out as long as possible, wanting to savor the feeling of deflowering his beloved's throat, so he'll use every last ounce of his endurance to hold back his climax for as long as he can. When Itachi finally does finish, he'll cum all over her face, leaving her face and mouth reeking of his cock, he hopes that her boyfriend is able to taste it next time he kisses her.

He's glad that they were finally able to consummate their relationship, even if she wasn't even aware that they had any sort of relationship, but regardless of her playing coy like the silly girl she is, he'll make sure that she knows that her status as his fucktoy girlfriend is now official, whether she likes it or not.

"Good girl... I'm sure that pitiful boyfriend of yours has never fucked you that good... Speaking of him, I don't think you want to hang around him anymore, unless you want your parents seeing these pictures..."

Itachi is glad that he was able to establish a relationship with her, although it is more unconventional than he originally planned, but regardless of the means, he's still able to have his girlfriend all to himself now, and that's how it's going to stay if she values her reputation.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto #naruto x reader #naruto smut #headcanon #x reader #naruto headcanons #akatsuki #akatsuki x reader #akatsuki smut #itachi #itachi x reader #itachi smut #anbu #anbu itachi #yandere #yandere naruto #yandere itachi

266 notes · View notes

thingsmaygetalittlecrazy · 9 months ago

Text

So I am veery late to this fandom, whelp.

Mostly here to love on y'all more active/dedicated creators 🫶 you are all so talented and kind.

My life is (happy) chaos right now, but I got so deep into reading fic's, I just had no choice but to seek out community around my HL brain rot. Lol. So I am here. This is my first offering lol

Please accept my humble contributions of art.

Disclaimer: I have no clue how to create digital art, so let's just ignore all my errors/my lazy decisions to leave less detail hehe I drew this on my phone with the inspiration from @myokk ! 😍 You're such an angel.

I think I'll figure out Seb's hair one day.....😵‍💫

#I'm not sure if this my “canon” lol MC or just a random f!oc 🤔#I saw a photoshoot on pinterest of a couple reading together and I knew I had to draw this #hogwarts legacy #fanart #hogwarts legacy fanart #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow fanart #hogwarts #i had to get this out of my system #i love Sebastian x MC sm #my art stuff

335 notes · View notes

enby-jellyfish · 2 months ago

Text

Unlucky in Love

Wade Wilson (Deadpool) X GN!Reader (POC friendly)

Pronouns: You/Your, They/Them

Summary: You ever went on a date so bad you gotta break the 4th wall?

Warnings: Cursing (It's Wade, c'mon), self-deprecation, Wade has a slight breakdown but it's all good in the end.

Word Count: 922

A/N: Idk if this format of writing works but I had fun, so who cares...

Well hello, you wonderful readers. It’s me. Your favourite merc with a mouth: Deadpool. And boy, do I have plans tonight.

I’m about to go on a date. Which means someone, somewhere, actually agreed to spend time with me. On purpose. I know, I know, I’m just as shocked as you are. I checked them for a concussion. They’re fine. Probably.

Now, unfortunately for my emotional stability, I am straight up head over heels for this person. Like, if I were a cartoon character, my heart would be lunging out of my chest and my eyes would be shaped like hearts. So, I want this date to go well.

So, here’s the plan: step 1, show up with flowers. Say something charming. Not creepy. Maybe a pun. Puns are romantic, right? Not cheesy at all? God, it’s been a while huh...

Anyway, step 2: dinner at that hip new place with the truffle fries and overpriced water. (How do you overprice water? It LITERALLY falls from the sky, but okay, pop off capitalism.)

Then step 3, a classic, mushy-gushy movie. Hopefully followed by a totally PG-rated make out sesh. Or PG-13. Or whatever rating I can get away with.

Whelp, now that I’m done monologuing, I’m off. Wish me luck, dear reader.

Wade rings your doorbell and checks himself out in your window one last time. His new dress-suit goes well with his mask.

You open the door. You. Beautiful you. The you I definitely didn’t spend two hours nervously googling whether normal people wear red spandex on first dates for. “Well, well. If it isn’t my favourite person in the whole world looking like a whole snack.”

Wade presents his flowers with a flourish that would make the best magician jealous. "Aww, you shouldn't have!" You smile, take them, inhale deeply... and immediately sneeze. And then again. And again.

Oh no.

“Shit. Shitshitshit. Are you allergic?! I could’ve sworn they were hypoallergenic! That’s what the lady at the weird corner stand said!”

You give your best attempt at a smile through your sneezes. “No, they’re gr- Achoo! -eat, really!”

Wade snatches the bouquet and yeets it into the nearest bush. “They were on sale anyway.” Wade shrugs, rubbing his neck apologetically.

“You bought me discount flowers? I’m not worth full price?” You squint at him teasingly as you wipe your nose. “Hey, flowers are expensive! Be glad I didn’t steal them. I almost did. But then I thought, ‘Hey, let’s impress them with legally acquired flora.’”

Okay. Flowers = disaster. But dinner? Dinner is where I shine. Candlelight. My oh-so-great and totally not-out-of-practice flirting. Lady and the Tramp-ing a single truffle fry, except-

“I’m sorry, Mr... uh… Pool. It seems your table was double-booked.”

“Double-booked?! But I bribed that waiter with an expired Olive Garden gift card and a drawing of Spider-Man in a position I won’t describe in front of my gorgeous date!”

The poor hostess gives the two of you an apologetic look. “Sorry. Nothing I can do.”

Well shucks. Trashy fast food it is…

You take a bite of your burger, eyes rolling back slightly. “Honestly? Better than truffle fries.” Wade nods in agreement, though still bummed out. “I knew I liked you for more than just your butt. But also your butt.”

At least you can’t go wrong with a movie, right?

Right!?

Okay. So the movie starts out decent. Classic setup. Some romance. Some drama. Some action. And then... it all goes so wrong.

Plot holes the size of Canada. CGI so bad you just know those poor artists were underpaid. The actors making choices… that are there. You exchange one long, horrified glance.

“Do you just want to get out of here?” Wade whispers to you. “I thought you’d never ask.” The two of you awkwardly shuffle past the other people that somehow haven’t run out yet.

“How did they even manage to make a movie so bad? It wasn’t even good-bad, it was just bad.” Wade vents as you walt towards the exit. “No idea. I think the director was having a moment.”

“And the writers, actors, and composer. The whole production is just a shitshow.” Wade opens the door for you, only to find it absolutely pouring outside.

“Of course it’s raining.” Wade mutters, sighing heavily. “This night was supposed to be good. Like, actually good. I mean- I tried. I wanted it to be special. And-”

Wade’s voice cracks.

He looks up at the sky.

“Author, you suck.” He mumbles. “You could’ve made this the fluffiest fic to ever fluff, but nooo. You had to go all angstcore on my ass.”

You interrupt his crazed ranting at the sky by grabbing his face and pressing a kiss right over the mouth of his mask. “I had fun.” Wade blinks. “You did?”

You smile, brushing your thumb over his masked cheekbone. “Yeah, I did. ‘Cause though this date was pretty shitty, it was shitty with you.”

Wade lets out a strangled noise from the back of his throat. “Wait, hold on- that was actually really cute. Gimme a second.”

Wade takes a step back, sniffles, and clears his throat. As a cherry on top he wipes away a non-existent tear, before turning back to you.

“Okay. I’m back. Where were we?” The way you smile at him makes him feel all warm inside.

You shrug, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Making out in the rain?” You say, arms sliding around Wade’s neck. “YES. YES, WE WERE.”

ROLL CREDITS, BABY.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading <3

#wade wilson x reader #deadpool x reader #xmen x reader #x-men x reader #x men x reader #marvel x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #my writing

82 notes · View notes

wicked-by-nature--au · 4 months ago

Text

Caught Red-Handed

The Impulsive youngling's genius idea of making a birthstone of his own... went very well for him.

Plus a little fanfic test draft ⬇️

Think of it as a beta chapter or something

Trying to get more comfortable with writing and stuff :D

Gunmar was once really close with him, but ever since Orlagk announced the creation of his birthstone, he became noticeably more somber, quieter, and almost... hurt? As he has been betrayed or something. And when Skarlagk hatched, he didn't quite receive any congratulations from the Skullcrusher, just silence and sulking.

——————————————————————

It has been a significant week. The birth of Orlagk's daughter was something the warlord had been waiting for decades. It was a happy and proud moment for him, but he couldn't help but ponder on how much more distant his young general had grown.

It was childish, yes, but it also made Orlagk worry about the youngling's mental state. Maybe he should talk to Gunmar, ask him what's wrong and if there's something he could do to help him.

...

And that's just what he's going to do-

•••

Once arriving outside of the young general's lair, he firmly knocks at the door. “Gunmar-” He called out but didn't hear an answer. “Are you in there, lad..?” He waited a bit before opening the door and peeking inside.

The room was fairly dark, but he could see the blue glimmer of Gunmar's engravings from the corner of the lair. Gunmar was sitting on the cold stone floor, hunched over with his hand clutching his left side. He was trembling slightly, which the older troll couldn't quite tell if it was from panic or frustration... perhaps both.

Orlagk furrowed his brows and stepped into the lair, closing the door behind him. “What are you doing? Why are you in there, boyo?” He asked with a firm but non-aggressive tone as he approached the younger troll curled up in the corner.

He knelt beside Gunmar and put his hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Seriously, what's going on...?” He asked with a softer and more genuine tone this time, but his questions were soon answered as he studied the scene a bit more carefully-

He saw deep blue blood — blood coming from Gunmar's side, which the younger troll was currently clutching onto, a chisel in the same hand. Orlagk's eyes widen as the realization hits him. “NO YOU JUST NOT-” He exclaimed, briefly glancing at Gunmar's face, who was just staring into the nothingness, clearly a bit disoriented.

Orlagk then snatched the chisel from Gunmar and pulled his hand away from his wounded side to see how bad the damage was. And as he had feared, a relatively large chunk of his living stone had been partially carved off. It was still attached to him but could lead to budding, which would just cause more damage with infection and rotting of the surrounding living stone.

So with no other choice, the older troll reluctantly began to help with the botched chunk, carefully carving out the piece where it was still attached, muttering under his breath. “Why, why? Why on earth would you do such a thing? YOU IDIOT!”

Gunmar stayed quiet for a bit, feeling embarrassed for being caught, as well as feeling ashamed, he knew it was impulsive but also something he really wanted to do. “...I just felt the need to.... I want to be a parent...” He muttered quietly with a soft and tired voice.

“But do this such a big thing all alone?!” Orlagk growled, pissed off by the younger troll's foolish decision.

“...But so did you....” Gunmar replies quietly. And once hearing that, Orlagk paused and went silent. He then sighed deeply and continued carving the piece out, his voice now slightly calmer. “But you're still so young yourself... You have just barely left your teens-”

“I'm not a whelp anymore...” Gunmar muttered.

“I know, but I don't think you're mature enough-” Orlagk said as he finally got the chunk of Gunmar's living stone out, catching it onto his hand and offering it to the younger troll. “It's a big responsibility....”

Once Gunmar took the piece of his own flesh from him, Orlagk looked back at the young troll's side, seeing all the blood and the deep wound. He shook his head and put the chisel down before he took hold of his own loincloth and ripped a piece of the fabric.

“You seriously fucked-up with the carving process...” He said as he began to pat Gunmar's bleeding side with the piece of cloth to help with the bleeding and clean the mess a bit. “You carved a way too deep... and the piece wouldn't have needed to be that big either... Why didn't you ask for help, you idiot..?”

Gunmar winced slightly as Orlagk began to cleanse the wound, starting to feel lightheaded from the bleeding and the throbbing pain in his side. He closes his eyes and holds the carved piece of his flesh close to his chest.

Orlagk glanced at Gunmar and sighed. “You can be such a brilliant and cunning troll... but man, you somehow lack common sense and critical thinking at times.” He muttered, shaking his head. And soon, he was done with the wound, pulling the stained fabric away. “I would smack you if you weren't in this state...” Orlagk huffed, standing up from the floor. Gunmar lifted his gaze to watch what he was doing.

Orlagk walked up to the younger troll's nest and took one of the animal pelts, bringing it to the wounded comrade. He kneeled down to lay the pelt over Gunmar's shoulders. “You should rest now...” He said before he stood up again, turning towards the door to leave.

And before he exited, he looked over his shoulder. “And crawl into the bed once you can... I'll come to check on the wound tomorrow...” Orlagk muttered before walking out of the lair, leaving Gunmar alone.

Gunmar sighed, huddled into the soft fur pelt, feeling absolutely worn out. There were some regrets in mind, but he was satisfied... He could soon be someone meaningful again.

And before he could think more about these things, he passed out, falling down onto his face on the cold stone floor.

So... what did you think?

——————————————————————

This is my first time writing stuff like this, and I hope it was somewhat presentable.

Is there something I could do different to improve it?

- HuttuHarakka

#trollhunters #tales of arcadia #toa #trollhunters au #toa au #trollhunters fanfic #toa fanfic #wicked by nature au #gunmar #gunmar the black #trollhunters gunmar #orlagk #orlagk the oppressor #trollhunters orlagk

126 notes · View notes

coffee-at-daybreak · 6 months ago

Text

blazing | vilkas x reader

a/n: as requested by a few on ao3, i’ve whipped up a pt 2 to this vilkas fic, although this could probably be read as a one shot too. it’s a bit longer and more dramatic than its predecessor but i hope it’s still good. tysm to those who loved the first part <3

! warning ! for strong language, minor injury and blood, and some slightly suggestive content near the end heehee

The soft, damp earth sinks beneath your boots with every step. Lush evergreen trees pass by you on either side. You can hear a river nearby, trickling and splashing, accompanied by the ambiance of forest insects and animals. And the cloudless sky above is turning from a pale blue to a deep violet, the sinking sun taking the warmth of daylight with it.

Your attention isn’t on the scenery, though. Instead you glare at Vilkas’s back.

He walks a small distance in front of you, his own gaze turned ahead. His armor and clothes rustle slightly with every movement he makes, and occasionally that daunting greatsword strapped to him as well catches the final reflections of the sun. Every now and then, he’ll turn his head to look off of the path or survey the area.

But you’re positive he hasn’t turned around to look at you once.

Anger sizzles beneath your skin and you narrow your eyes at him. It wasn’t your first choice to come along on this mission, either. But with Farkas coming down with a fever, Aela was left to train the new whelps back at Jorrvaskr - meaning you had to be the one to accompany Vilkas. Were it just a simple task, maybe you would have let him come alone. But this was a bandit problem, and it would be unwise to tackle it without a Companion.

You’d left Whiterun this morning, and not one word had been spoken since. Probably because you don’t know what words to say.

The sizzling anger turns into a tingling warmth that flushes your upper body as you recall the last interaction you’d had. What started out as an argument, the heated jabs and words that you were so used to with him… had somehow become a kiss. A passionate, almost needy kiss, one that ended as abruptly as it had happened.

It had only been two days prior, but you still played it over and over in your mind. Restless days and nights thinking about it, about him, wondering how in Oblivion that had happened. And what happens next?

Maybe if he actually spoke or even looked at you, you could be a step closer to figuring all that out. If he would just stop his stupid brooding and-

“I can feel you glaring, you know,” he announces.

You move your eyes up to the back of his head, but he still doesn’t turn around. Your hands clench into fists at your side. “Glaring? Oh, no. I’ve actually been lovingly batting my lashes.”

He shakes his head at the sharp sarcasm in your tone. The rushing of the nearby river starts to fade as you both walk farther away from it, deeper into the forest. It still nearly drowns out the sound of his sigh.

But you do hear it, and your heart responds with a flicker. You don’t know whether it’s irritation or attraction, though. “Are we going to talk about it, Vilkas?” You ask boldly.

He keeps walking, but you notice the way those broad shoulders tense up. “Talk about what?”

Is he serious? Heat runs up your neck as you quicken your pace, trying to fall in closer behind him. “Cute. I didn’t know you were the type to play dumb.”

“I don’t ‘play’ anything,” he counters coolly.

You cross your arms. Having them open just pushes you closer to picking up a pebble and lodging it at him. “Oh, so you just are dumb?”

“Very mature, Harbinger.”

Annoyance pumps through your blood, wanting to come out in the form of words. But they’re an ugly mess in your head - who knows how they would tumble out of your mouth. You want to call him out on the irony- very mature of him to be running from the topic.

But you realize with a sink in your belly that maybe it’s as simple as he does not want to talk about it. Could he be regretting it? That kiss didn’t feel regretful. You can still recall how firmly he had held you, how lavishly his mouth had taken yours. It felt like he was mirroring all the intense emotions you’d been feeling. But maybe his emotions were different from yours.

The thought makes your chest want to cave in on itself.

You look around briefly at your surroundings. You’re somewhere in Falkreath hold, but you’re not sure where. Vilkas is the one with the map. You don’t know how fond he will be of you nudging your way up next to him to take a peek.

“We should look for a stopping point for the night,” you suggest, trying to hide the disappointment in your tone. “The fort is still-”

“Be quiet.”

You snap your head to scowl at him. “I was just-”

“No - Be. Quiet.” His voice is hushed with urgency. He practically whispers it through grated teeth, but you pick up on the shift in his tone, and the way he’s stopped in his tracks.

You come to a halt as well, looking around warily. There’s no sign of life nearby, and it’s hard to see anything in the growing darkness that is starting to envelope everything. You slide your gaze to Vilkas.

He’s still frozen in place, but his hand is poised to reach for the sword at his back. His pale eyes dart around, but they linger on the path ahead of you both.

A tense silence hangs, and you become aware of your heart speeding up, tapping against your chest.

But still, nothing happens. Vilkas slowly lowers his hand glances at you. “I thought I sensed something.”

You frown but you too relax your stance. “Probably just an animal. In case you didn’t know, we’re in the woods. They’re everywhere.”

The glare he gives you is sharp enough to cut stone. You throw back a smirk, trying to play off the fact that his eyes finally being on you makes your pulse quicken even more.

He turns back around. He hesitates another second before continuing his walk down the path, and you start to follow him.

Suddenly, one of the shrubs alongside the path rustles. You notice a strange mass of wavering air, a slight shimmer of movement. Just as it launches out, you recognize it with a plummeting heart - the cloak of an invisibility spell.

“Vilkas!” On instinct, you dart forward. He whips around but you’ve already reached him, putting yourself between him and the attacker just as the spell dissipates.

You see a glimpse of menacing, narrowed eyes under a hood, then your vision blotches over just as pain erupts at your shoulder. The unmistakable white-hot agony of a blade digging into your skin drowns out your senses for a second.

But they come back to you a second later when you see the attacker stumbling back, a fatal slash from Vilkas’s sword across their chest. You feel your legs give out, but you also feel his arm catching you at your back before you can fall back. You hear him saying your name, muffled by the dull ringing in your ears from the pain.

It’s focused in on your shoulder where the dagger still sits embedded. But it feels like it’s spreading, slow and hot, all throughout your body. The wet warmth of blood starts to stain your clothes as well. You draw in a deep, trembling breath, trying to focus on keeping your consciousness.

Vilkas says your name again, but it carries enough volume to almost be a shout- one filled with worry like you’ve never heard before. His arm squeezes around you protectively as he holds you up.

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know! What were you thinking?” He demands in a snarl, but there’s a bit of a tremble to it. He keeps looking from you to the collapsed attacker, as if he’s afraid they’ll get back up any second now. But they’re lying motionless on the ground. The scattered valuables that fell off of them tells you they must have been a thief.

“I … wasn’t,” you wheeze. Your head’s foggy, and you try to reach for the dagger.

“No!” Vilkas swats your hand away. “Don’t. We need to get you out of the open first.”

You turn to look at him. Your sight is still a little blurry at the edges, but you recognize that gripping, sharp emotion in his eyes - fear. You feel it yourself, growing much like the pain in your body.

“But where-”

“Up ahead. There’s an old tomb not far.” Vilkas does another quick scan of your surroundings, hurrying to reattach his sword to his back. Then he dives in, one arm staying at your back and the other hooking under your legs, and he scoops you up effortlessly.

You’re so caught off guard that for a second, you forget your situation. “Hey, I can walk!” You try to protest, but just trying to raise your voice leaves you winded. The pain is crawling to your chest, which suddenly feels too tight and strained.

“Shut up. Focus on breathing.” Vilkas orders, moving briskly down the path. All the hurried movement jostles you around, even with his arms firm around you.

You do as he says. You try to hone in on the warmth of his torso instead of the unnerving chills taking over. The pain is seeping farther out, inching its way down your limbs and abdomen. This isn’t just a simple shoulder stab - the dagger must have been poisoned.

Your neck grows weak next, and your head falls against Vilkas’s shoulder. Your eyelids feel heavy, but he gives you a light shake, and you blink.

“Stay awake, you hear me? Almost there,” he rasps, hastening his steps.

Finally, you sense him veering off the trail and into the woods. There’s more jostling and jerking around as Vilkas carries you through the entrance of the tomb. The open sky becomes a stone ceiling, the trees become moss-covered walls. A short flight of steps later, you’re in an ancient embalming room, deep enough that you’re out of sight from the world above but not deep enough to be encountering any more threats yet - hopefully.

Vilkas sets you down with tremendous caution, the comfort of his arms under your legs replaced by the hard, cold plane of a stone table. Your back is leaned up against the wall behind you. One of his hands squeezes your uninjured shoulder, but the other one…

“I’m taking this out now,” he explains as he grips the handle of the dagger. Your hand flies out to grasp his forearm in anticipation, heart pounding. “Deep breath,” he instructs, holding your terrified gaze.

You inhale, and on the exhale, he pulls. Pain lashes through your body, pulling a weak cry out of your throat, and Vilkas winces at the sound. He tosses the weapon aside, the clatter of it echoing through the chamber. Then he shuffles around in his pocket for something.

Your eyes flutter closed, trembling as you start to feel even more faint. Vilkas suddenly gripping your chin makes you jump, and you crack your eyes back open. He’s lifting up a small red potion bottle with his other hand, his gaze locked onto yours with a stern yet pleading emotion.

“It’s for the poison. Drink up.” He tilts your chin up gently and tips the bottle of the potion at your lips. The bitter liquid slips down your tongue and throat, making you shudder.

Vilkas’s hand stays planted at your neck, watching you as he waits for the potion to take action. After a minute, the prickling pain seeping through your blood begins to fade, until the majority of it lingers on the actual dagger wound at your shoulder. You still feel weak, but not teetering on the brink of consciousness anymore.

“Much better,” you murmur weakly. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything, his jaw ticking as he bites his words back, but the relief sweeping through his eyes almost speaks for him.

Another short while passes as the poison further leaves your system, and your heart rate and breathing come to a more steady, normal pace. A weighted silence hangs in the air as Vilkas dresses your wound - not very well, but enough to stop the bleeding and keep it protected until it can be properly healed.

You watch him as he works. He’s so close up, and in the faint torch light of the tomb, you can see the hardened features of his face - his annoyingly handsome face.

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” You ask quietly, your eyes darting to look over him. But it seems like he was spared from the attack.

He tenses, his hand stiffly securing the bandage at your shoulder. “No.”

“Good,” you exhale. “I was-”

“No, it’s not good.” Vilkas’s hand comes off of you and he steps back. Your heart sinks as the warmth of his body being close to yours fades. You look at him, startled by the sudden ice-cold glare being cast upon you.

“That dagger was supposed to be for me.” He practically hisses the words through clenched teeth. “Why did you do that?”

You frown at him. “It was instinct, really.” He keeps looking at you with a seething scowl, and you blink. “Are you … actually upset?”

“Of course I’m upset!” He gestures at your shoulder, and when his hand falls back to his side, it’s clenched into a fist. “You could have died!”

His words are wrought with anger, but there’s a hint of something like … anguish in his tone. Your chest aches for a second, but his choice of words there makes your own hackles raise.

You shrug. “Then there’d be one less problem in your life.”

Vilkas’s eyes flare, his head making the subtlest shaking motion. “You really are a fool.”

You stiffen and narrow your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a fool for protecting you. For all we know, he could have ended up killing us both.”

“I don’t need your protection,” he growls.

Those words sting almost as bad as the poison you’d just been feeling. But the jab of hurt is replaced by the creeping heat of anger, flushing under your skin and in your belly.

“So, what, you need me to let you get hurt next time?” You retort.

“I need you to not throw your life on the line like that!” He shouts.

You flinch. Unable to form words, you merely look back at him. The expression on his face is all too familiar. The deep pull of his brow, the tight lines of his lips, the agitated clenching of his jaw - that infamous scowl of his that’s been directed at you too many times, at every little disagreement or stare-down you’ve had before.

But there’s something different about his eyes. This time, it’s not gripping ice or chilling rain clouds they remind you of. No, right now, they’re alight with a mixture of emotions so intense that it leaves you stunned. Something pained, something furious, something tender, all dancing together in a captivating mess. It reminds you of fire, actually. And not typical fire, not the warm-colored flames that you see in hearthfires or in destruction magic.

No, his eyes are like fire in its purest form, a blazing shade of blue that makes you feel like you’re burning from the inside out.

“I need-” He pauses as if the words get caught in his throat, but this time, he doesn’t swallow them. He gets them out in an almost choked, hushed tone. “I need you. If … if something happened to you…” He trails off, and looks away.

But you can’t look away from him. Your body still feels like it’s in shock, and you know it’s not from the poison anymore.

“I thought you hated me,” you admit.

Vilkas stares at you again with a tilt of his head and an arch to his eyebrow. “Yes, because kissing you like that means I must loathe you,” he deadpans in his typical sarcasm.

Now you avert your eyes. You shrug, a faint blush growing on your cheeks. “In your defense, I was being an asshole. It was a very effective way to shut me up.”

He exhales, a small huff that is as close to a laugh as you’re getting. “Idiot,” he mutters. But his tone is different. It still makes you mad, for sure - but there’s also a subtle softness to it that sends your traitorous heart fluttering.

“In my defense, it’s hard to tell with you.” You look back up at him, matching that intense gaze of his. “You act a certain way or do certain things that makes me hopeful, then next, you’re … cold, and distant.”

Your chest pangs at remembering how he’d barely acknowledged you on this mission so far. How he’d actively avoided looking at you after that kiss. And though it hurts to think so, you wouldn’t hold it against him if this wasn’t something he wanted to pursue.

He pauses a moment, but then lets out a quiet sigh. “I know. I’m sorry. I suppose I’ve just been afraid.”

Your brow jumps up. “You? Afraid? Not very werewolf of you.”

He levels you a glare that almost makes you visibly shrink. “Watch it. I can still leave you in this tomb and tell everyone you didn’t make it.”

Your lips tug into a small smile, but you keep silent. If he’s really about to come clean about his feelings, then the jokes can wait.

Vilkas draws a slow breath in, as if physically gathering the courage in his chest. He keeps his eyes averted, but you can see the sincerity in them from here. “I’ve been afraid that the moment I face it, it becomes real. Too real. I thought that if I kept you at arm’s length, if I just kept … hating you, then you couldn’t get close enough for me to care about.”

His gaze rises and meets yours. Your skin crawls with simultaneous chills and heat.

“But of course that failed. It didn’t matter how far I stayed away or how much you fucking annoyed me at times.” He shakes his head a tad. “I cared - I still do. And unfortunately, I always will.”

Only he could drop a confession so plain and curt like it’s nothing. You can’t even grasp simple words of your own. There’s so much you want to say, but how to even begin saying it…

You find yourself resorting to the timeless tactic you’ve always used on him - being a pain in his ass.

“I don’t believe you,” you say.

Vilkas looks genuinely shocked for half a heartbeat, and you have to smother another smirk. His expression quickly fuses into his familiar scowl. “What? I just said-”

“I know. But again, it’s hard to tell with you.” You lift your chin in a challenge. “Prove it. Prove that you care.”

He tenses up so much he could blend in with the stone walls around you. “You are the bane of my existence, Harbinger,” he growls.

But of course, his words don’t align with that little flicker in his eyes - something that warms his gaze, and makes you feel warmer when it’s upon you.

He begins to cross the room to approach you. The breath in your lungs nearly stills altogether, but your heart is the opposite, speeding up with every step he takes until he stops, right in front of you and the table you’re still seated on.

For a few seconds, you merely look at each other. He’s the first to momentarily break eye contact when he chances a split-second glance at your lips. Suddenly, the short distance between the two of you feels like kindling, like any more heat will push you to combustion.

But he’s still hesitating. You see the war in his eyes, the clenching of his fists. You wonder if he’s going over the doubts again- the risks that come with becoming more than… whatever you two are.

“If it’s easier,” you murmur, tilting your head up to better look at him, “you can just take a dagger for me next time I’m targeted.”

Vilkas shakes his head slightly, but there’s an unmistakable lift to one side of his mouth. He leans down, planting his hands flat on the table on either side of you, and Gods, his face is suddenly very close. Your heart misses a beat.

“I’d rather show you just how much I loathe you,” he replies, then his mouth is on yours.

The kindling ignites. The rush of blood under your skin feels like flames crawling from your heart all the way to your fingertips. It leaves you absolutely lightheaded, and out of half instinct, half desire, you lift your own arms and sling them around his neck. His broad shoulders flex beneath them as he presses closer, deepening the kiss with so much urgency that you can’t help but gasp into it.

Maybe the overwhelming warmth would be suffocating if it wasn’t so damn amazing. It is easy to forget the chilly cave or the distant ache in your shoulder when you can be lost in him instead, in the delicious press of his body against your own and the almost desperate movement of his lips.

You try to pull him even closer, your legs hooking loosely around him below his waist. He complies, then surprises you by rolling your lower lip gently between his teeth. You shiver in spite of the heat that starts to gather deep in your belly.

You could be burning from the inside out and you wouldn’t care.

One of your hands snakes up to dig into his hair. One of his hands comes off the table and latches around your waist instead. He leans you back just enough to break the kiss, but you only get one precious second to try and catch your breath before his lips start planting their way down your neck. Your lungs nearly seize again, and you crane your head back to give him better access. The feeling of his feathery breath and scratchy facial hair on your skin is blissful, but your entire body is climbing to a new high.

But then of course, like the jerk he is, he stops - abruptly. A small whine of protest dies in your throat as he lifts his head, bringing it in front of yours. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes, but it’s nothing compared to the icy heat of his gaze, something more intimate - and attractive - than plain desire.

“Convinced?” He asks huskily, his own breathing still a little ragged like yours.

You would be the very thing he called you earlier - a fool - to deny the meaning of his affections at this point. But that’s part of the fun with him. “Just a little,” you huff around your smirk.

“Don’t worry.” His hand at your waist gives you a tight squeeze, and his lips hover over your own. “I’m not done.”

#chat would you get frisky in a draugr cave?#skyrim #elder scrolls #tesv #dragonborn #vilkas #reader insert #dovahkiin #reader x vilkas #vilkas x reader #dragonborn x vilkas #vilkas x dragonborn #gender neutral reader #skyrim companions #elder scrolls skyrim #enemies to lovers #tes #barking for this man

76 notes · View notes

archivalofsins · 5 months ago

Text

Damn continuing to be right o'clock-

(Edited 03/19/25 3:38pm to fix the coloring on some text and to mention that Haruka not only discarded the hairclips Mu gave him but the shoes as well. Edited 03/19/25 To fix spelling and grammar errors and mention the number of cameras seemingly in each prisoners cell.)

Not right on all the specifics it's not like I never said his parents weren't neglectful but he simply did just kill random unrelated children who he just saw wandering away from their parents.

Like obviously nothing would have made this better but I at least tried to give y'all some leeway. Like okay people believe the child is related to Haruka in someway well maybe these kids are someone his parents paid attention to outside of him.

Yet actually no his parents simply did clock out from parenting and had to be informed by the police he was doing this.

Haruka's parents when he was having consistent reading difficulties because they were too ashamed to get extra help earlier on in his studies. So then the issues persisted into high school,

"Whelp we've done all we can."

Literally have not done any of the things they could have due to internalized ableism.

I'm digressing but I did interrogate the kids being related to him or at least near him in some way. Such as his mom babysitting kids of friends or neighbors or just kids she interacted with in their neighborhood. Because outside of that the only alternative was people believing those were family members or family friends.

I was at least correct in the fact that they lived in the neighborhood.

But nope those are random kids that this twenty-three year old (ahahahah- *cough* eh-hem sorry it's still funny) killed. Not even his own neglectful parents just random children trying to enjoy being outside- Alright, bet. Outside of that how Mu watched this man die and acted like it was a surprise like Haruka you're not eating- meanwhile this man on ground who is skin and bones.

Like there weren't even multiple trays in there.

There wasn't shit hidden under the bed. His room was spotless she took trays there every day and watched this man waste away. Oh if that's not a death sentence served I don't know what is.

Side note the prisoners cells have doors and windows.

The lighting coming from behind Haruka seems to be coming through a window while not necessarily showing the outside of the facility as it may only show another lit up area within the Milgram facility. Since the light behind him doesn't seem like natural lighting.

The door is also wooden so fic writers are eating good today-

So the prisoners outside of the lack of locks all have private rooms of their own. Haruka has not requested anything to be in his room as it's very barebones but uh this is good to know.

Also each of the prisoners cells seem to have fifteen functioning cameras in them but we get no angles showing Mu's face alright. None of those fifteen cameras could pick that up I'm kidding they could they just didn't pick footage from those cameras for some reason. These cameras are more than likely what picks up the audio relayed to the audience through the portal timeline on the app.

Hey are you ready for Shidou and Mahiru's reports because I fucking am. This is gonna be hilarious. I can't wait to see how long the timeline of doing this over and over is for them. Haruka only did this shit twice. They did it to how many people?

Damn unfortunate. How unfortunate for people who were hoping all of their secrets would die with them and they could keep looking like good people. But the quality of this video right- Milgram anime when?

Maybe do that after this is done.

This is ridiculous. Really good. Can't wait to see Mahiru die in front of Yuno in stunning animation just to then have to read her long ass report about the choices she consistently made. Like oh boy... That's gonna be fucked up.

Back to Haruka I love how they showed him discard Mu's hairclips and clinging to his own mother's necklace calling out to her one last time before he died.

That was fucked up but drove the point home that he understood exactly what was going on and who he actually wanted to impress and get the attention of this entire time.

The way he laughs at Mu's performative concern knowing full and well-

MILGRAM / Prisoner No. 001: “Haruka Sakurai” -The Third Trial 0:21s

"The food I brought you, you haven’t eaten any of it……" "……haha, ha." "Why…… ……You’ll die like that. Haruka……"

"……yes……I hope so……"

"Why"

Mu why are you playing this game you know why remember?

Mu Queen B 12:36s

"Ah- but if you don't forgive me, Haruka-kun will die. So, I think it'd be best to not do that." ...! [bell tolls] So you've heard about that nonsense, too? "Mhm! Haruka-kun told me. So I could rest easy, according to him. That made me happy... It made me really feel our friendship!"

"I told Es……find Mu innocent……or else."

You know about it and you're not trying to stop him? Haruka that is?

"Why would I?"/ "Why"

"We are just the same."

"I’m sorry to start out like this but......he chose death. He had told you right? That he’d die if you don’t find Mu “innocent”. So that’s exactly what came to pass. It was to be expected, right? Did you think it was just a bluff? Well, I guess that’s understandable."

"Haruka……I…I… Haru……Haruka……"

"If you want to betray from jealousy I’ve told you what’s gonna happen. Because it’s not my fault."/ "What are you going to do about this? Haruka-kun died. Hey, guard. You knew this would happen, right?"

Like she really came in here and staged surprise at this turn of events after putting on full display she knew about it. There's not food hidden around his room. It's placed on a table for all to see that he isn't eating. He's so thin we can see his spine protruding through the skin on the back of his neck,

And instead of trying to convince him to eat anymore than this she's like,

"……don’t worry, Mu." "About what……" "……you’re going to be innocent, I know it" "……you really think so?" "……yes…… aa…………"

Mu he is dying feed him there is food right there on the table

You brought it in remember,

23/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Mu: Haruka-kun, I brought your food. Are you still alive? Has any mould started growing?

Haruka: ……ah, thank you very much. Mu-san. Sorry, um…… I……

Mu: You shouldn’t just lock yourself in your room all day. You have to eat your food properly. Hm, well…… I do understand why you’re feeling down. It feels bad. The atmosphere recently

Haruka: Um, I’m totally fine…… Just a bit, I’m thinking, about how to do it. What to do, what to do, to…… fulfil my promise. For Mu-san’s sake……

23/07/05 (Mu’s Birthday)

Futa: Oi, you. Is he ok? He’s not even left his room lately.

Mu: You mean Haruka-kun? Hmm. Yeah, probably. I’ve been bringing all his meals to him so he should be fine. Isn’t that great of me?

Futa: Hah? Who the hell says that sort of thing about themself. ……ah, no, well, right now I understand a bit. When you’re feeling down, it’s nice to have someone who relies on you and accepts you. The rest of us can’t really understand you from where we’re standing. But well, if you’re Haruka’s “salvation” then I guess it really is great.

Mu: Salvation……? I don’t know what you mean. Futa-kun, you don’t sound like yourself. Did you hit your head or something? Oh, wait, you actually did, didn’t you. Ahaha. Ah, putting that aside though, did you know it’s my birthday today?

Just physically feed him. Or, or maybe- Just go get Shidou he's a doctor he could help maybe give this guy a feeding tube. If you don't want to feed him yourself-

24/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Shidou: ……I’m worried about Sakurai-kun. I haven’t seen him around in a while. You’ve been talking with him, right?

Mu: He’s fine. Here, look. I’ve been taking his food to him like this every day. Isn’t that great of me?

Shidou: Yes, very. I’m sorry I’ve been leaving it to you to look after him. Usually, that would be the job of us adults, and yet we’re leaving you with the burden.

Mu: Don’t worry about it. After all, me and Haruka-kun are friends.

Well beyond shit we've been knew or been able to deduce. I love how his death parallels him on the floor on AKAA

I love how they had him discard the things Mu gave him. Not just the hairclips but the shoes on the floor beside him that many suspected she picked out,

This leads to him dying without shoes like the current guilty prisoners no longer have shoes in their restraints.

All while he clung to his actual mom's necklace and called out to her as he died,

"Mommy-"

I love the follow through on him fully understanding Mu was using him up until the point he died.

Haruka Metamorphosis of the Weak 11:27s

You sure are asking something of me here. Viewing Mu as your mother is great and all, but she might only be kind to you in order to use you, you know.

"So what?"

"……haha, ha."

Haruka Metamorphosis of the Weak 11:41s

"So what if she's using me? Isn't it a good thing to be used? For someone to think of me as worthy enough to use me... isn't that something to be happy about?"

"I guess to him, it was that important to be useful to that little princess of his."

"......lose-lose. With regards to him, we lost, both MILGRAM and I. There’s no denying that he’s a gigantic idiot, but personally, I also think, bravo."

"I changed……I'm……useful now……"

"It’s all your fault, Es…… I’ve told you what’s gonna happen……"

"You know what’s gonna happen ON YOU." - "I’ve told you what’s gonna happen because it’s not my fault."

"It’s all your fault, Es." - "We are just the same."

#milgram #muu kusunoki #haruka sakurai

63 notes · View notes