#but u are so rushed and thing either get ignored or barely touched on

[silvervioletvalentine]

🖤¡And I never saw you coming , and I’ll never be the same!🖤

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Teammate Cherrie!

Word count: 4.7k

Summary : lyric request : hey! love your writing by the way <3 could i request "and i never saw you coming and i'll never be the same" with charles leclerc? maybe cherrie's had a few bad breakups and she doesn't really trust men anymore, but charles comes along and just changes everything and it's superrr fluffy? thank you so much! x

A/N : hiii!! @cieloclercs Thank u for giving me the inspo for this fic!! Sorry it took so long but I had fun writing it. I hope you u like it!! You guys can send in more Taylor swift lyric prompts for f1 drivers or nhl players and I’ll see what I can do! Lemme know what u guys think xoxo

'I'm walking fast through the traffic lights

Busy streets and busy lives

And all we know is touch and go

We are alone with our changing minds

We fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds, or fades in time'

Cherrie tried to push the stinging in the back of her eyes as she ignored the consistent buzzing of her phone in the back pocket of her jeans , sniffling quietly as she quickly crossed through the traffic lights .

Barely seeing a flash of green in the corner of her eyes as she rushed through the busy streets , everybody too overtaken by their own busy lives to pay her distressed self any mind.

And she supposed she took some solace in knowing that everybody was going through the same shit , at different points in their lives . Everybody got sick sometime. Everybody kissed somebody that they didn't see themselves spending the rest of their lives with. Everybody cried , everybody died. Everybody was suffering in some way, some had better coping mechanisms than others and some barely coped at all.

Some found art in pain and some found irony in their own , shaking her head with a bitter chuckle as she roughly pulled her still buzzing phone out from her pocket in a sudden burst of rage .

It had always been like this and at some point in her life she had started to wonder if she really was the problem. If she really were so unlovable than a man could look at her and see someone that they could lie to, someone that they would betray.

It wasn't fair. And it wasn't fair that it hurt each and every time. The sting of betrayal never got any lighter and even if she didn’t love them, it still hurt to know that they didn't love her either.

Maybe she deserved it. Maybe she just wasn't good enough.

To the rest of the world she was this shining star, destined for bright things. Destined to be the best, to stay at the top of her game . Racing fast until the slate ran clean , but no amount of trophy's and no amount of winnings could make this sickness brewing in her heart go away.

"What?" She snapped into the phone , not caring for the wary looks she received as she finally stomped her way into the paddock. Paying no mind to the cameras and no mind to those trying to catch her attention.

She was tired , so fucking tired of trying to be somebody that she just wasn't. She didn't want to smile and look pretty for anyone, she was sick of giving love and getting absolutely nothing but lies in return.

"Haven't you hurt me enough already ?" She almost cried into the speaker , wiping at her slowly drying eyes. She wasn't going to cry at work, she wasn't that type of girl.

She was the star after all. She was ferrari’s golden girl. She couldn't let them watch her bleed.

She had come out of crashing her car with much less scars than this relationship had left. And she was done.

She was sick of men. But she wanted love.

She didn't want to love a thousand of them, didn't want to go through the stages again . Through all the get to know you questions and the uncertainty , failing in love again till it hurts and then bleeds, then fades in time.

It just hurt. And she was tried of it.

"Now you want to give me a headache too?" She snapped at her now ex boyfriend in a rage, kicking the trash can in the corner of the room as she did so. Imagining it was his stupid face.

Why did all the pretty ones have to be such lying assholes in the end?

They had all been so beautiful until their true colours finally showed and it was so fucking ugly.

Like a picture she never asked to be painted , a puzzle that never would fit.

"I'm sorry baby- look- just come back home! We can talk about this-it doesn't have to end like this- I still love you-" the asshole tried to sound tearful but she knew that the only reason he was crying was because he got caught.

She let out a cold laugh, hand pressed to her forehead in frustration . Tears blurring her vision despite her otherwise blank face.

"It ended the moment you decided to kiss any lips but my own! You don't love me-" she laughed and she laughed. Sadly or bitterly , maybe both.

“If you really loved me, you wouldn't have been able to have been 'stolen from me' in the first place." She quoted what the headlines had wrote when they photographed her boyfriend with his tongue down some models throat.

But she didn't blame the woman. Oh no. Because he wasn't hers to begin with was he? Because if he was hers, he wouldn't have been tempted to do this. He wouldn't have even hesitated to say goodbye and turn the other cheek. He would have said no.

But instead he told her he loved her that night and then humiliated her for the world to see.

A awful pattern in most of her ex boyfriends , most of them pretty liars that liked to cry wolf as soon as she saw them for who they truly were.

"So goodbye. Don't call me. Lose my number asshole, we’re fucking done ." She instructed him with a hard sigh, done with this conversation now. Done with him.

She didn't see her teammate uneasily hesitate by the doorway , having heard every single world.

Having been worried about her since the headlines had made its way to his knowledge. But he didn't know what to do or say because they weren't exactly friends. They just worked together and she had been so fixated on lost love and championships, she barely paid him any mind at all . No matter what he did.

She tolerated him at most and no matter how hard Charles had tried to her closer to her, to show her that he was a good guy. She just was never interested .

Too busy with her bad guys to see him.

She almost jumped, startled , when she finally ended the phone call and turned around to see him standing there. Waiting for her to see him. To talk to her.

She inhaled deeply, pursing her lips together tightly as she realised that he had definitely heard it all.

Taking a moment to just look at him, seeing his soft , nervous smile on his pretty little face as he ran a hand through his hair. Eyes falling away from hers then down to his feet instead.

She sighed quietly , patience for men ran thin.

“You alright?" She muttered. Barely paying him any mind again as she tried to gather herself together , brushing down her clothes with the palm of her hands like she was brushing off the memories.

Charles slowly nodded his head, frowning a little. Worried.

"Yeah. are you?" He wondered in concern. She looked so sad. So tired. It hurt him to see.

He wondered how long this had been going on for, wondered why she kept doing this.

He had seen her jump from one guy to another , bad boyfriend after bad boyfriend. And he was starting to wonder if she got them off a bad friend, or if she was just catching these assholes like Pokemon balls at this point.

But Charles thought that she deserved so much more , to him she was daylight. She was golden.

He couldn't understand why she accepted fake love when she could have the real thing if she just opened her eyes and saw him standing there. He has always been there , waiting for her to see.

Instead she looked away, shrugging her shoulders in vague irritation . Not wanting to talk about it with her teammate that she barely knew beyond greetings and forced team bonding.

They weren't friends. She reminded herself to hit feel guilty for being so emotionally distant from him. She didn’t owe Charles anything.

Didn’t owe any man shit really. But still.

Maybe they were never meant to be friends.

She just didn’t know anymore . She sighed.

"I will be." She promised with a light laugh . To be polite . Before quickly Moving on. Because that was all she knew how to do.

‘And I never Saw you coming

And I'll never Be the same’

Cherrie looked down at the box of chocolate cupcakes in Charles hands, glancing back up to his little smile in confusion.

"What's this for?" She asked him curiously , lips twitching at the sight of all the different colour icing on top of them.

“It's not my birthday." She added as though he didn't already know. As though he didn't have her birthday marked in his Calendar as soon as he knew she existed .

Which was a long time ago, way before she even knew who he was.

Yeah. That’s how gone for her he was, and his friends could tease him all they liked for being ‘whipped’ and a longtime ‘simp’ for her, but he simply didn’t care. Because she deserved the world and Charles wanted to be the one to give it to her.

Charles just chucked a little, smile widening as he saw the way she breathed the smell in like the aroma was a candle . Gently taking one from the box , still sat on a random storage box in her garage as she watched her mechanics tinker with her car. Ever the vigilante.

He then took a seat beside her carefully , eyes never leaving The side of her pretty face, his cheeks flushing when she looked over at him and caught him staring . eyes not as dark or as sad as she took a bite from the cupcake , humming happily as she did so.

"I know." He acknowledged softly , fiddling with the box a little nervously . "I just-I overheard you telling your trainer this morning that you could really eat some cupcakes right now so.." he trailed off with a slight shrug. Swallowing.

But he was trying . So fucking hard to show her that he could be the one , that he could treat her right. That if she just have him a chance, he would never treat her like they did. He wasn’t them.

She just needed to trust in him.

Cherries eyes widened in surprise, having known that he was in the gym with them too , but not having realised that he paid any attention to her at all.

She was used to guys not listening to her mindless rambles and just leaving her to it, her talking usually just annoying them until they made some excuse to change the subject onto something they liked instead .

She exhaled softly , heart warming at his kind, selfless offer.

“Oh." She said smiling a little at him "then you heard him tell me not to eat them too. I'm meant to be on a strict diet." She giggled before taking a big bite.

Then she offered him a cupcake too.

Charles Beamed because it’s was progress.

Charles gently taking it from her fingers, playing with the wrapper as he murmured quietly .

“You can have them . You're perfect. And you-" he nervously giggled a little as he added quickly "you deserve them for winning the race."

Cherrie looked at him, confused. Face flushing a little from him calling her perfect so casually.

Like he meant it.

"I haven't won yet." She said.

Charles just smirked, nudging his shoulder gently against hers as he answered her easily "but you will." Because he believed in her. She could win anything she wanted. She was the best.

And Cherrie could only look down at the cupcakes, heart feeling strange as she realised that this might be something that she never saw coming .

Because it felt different, it hit different now. 

Had his smile always been so soft towards her? Had he always been this nice?

'You come around and the armor falls

Pierce the room like a cannonball

Now all we know is don't let go'

Cherrie could only let out a little groan when Charles found her in the corner of the ballroom, sulking in a beautiful silk gown as she clutched onto the empty champagne glass in his hand.

Feeling like a lonely loser in the darkened corner of the room. Watching the rich couples dance and laugh, and spinning circles around the room while she tried not to cry.

And utterly failed .

Charles found her tucked into the corner of the window seat , most of the velvet curtain covering her as she tucked her knee up underneath her chin and cried silently , waterproof makeup not budging.

She thanked god for it. She might be a little unstable but her mascara wasn't .

He looked concerned, and rightfully so. She was Crying at a party that was more like a grand ball , all mopey and for the first time in a long time, arriving alone. Maybe that was what was hitting her then.

That she was really alone. She didn't have anyone by her side anymore , no one to sneak off with , no more stolen kisses, silly jokes and long goodbyes.

It was just her now. Sat in a pretty gown, champagne glass and tears in her eyes. If only a poet could see her now. She'd be the star of his novel.

Charles leant against the wall of the fancy window, looking down at her quietly for a moment . Taking in the way she refused to meet his eyes, he sighed sadly .

"You're too pretty to be crying in your pretty dress Cher." He murmured to her softly . Meaning it.

She just laughed bitterly "I'm too pretty to be getting cheated on and having my heart ripped out but..." she shrugged with attitude "happens to me all the time. So Leave me alone Charles." She tried to push him away.

Charles took one good look at her, then shook his head, laughing sadly at how easy she thought she could scare him away.

Instead He sat down beside her, pulling his knees up so that they were sat toe to toe. Tapping the heel of his dress shoes against her heels to make her look up at him.

Grinning a little at the glare she shot him, he shook his head fondly.

"No. I'm not." He simply denied. Because he wasn't going to leave her alone, crying at a party . No way. "Don't be silly."

"Piss off." She snapped back. Kicking his foot with her heel.

He barely reacted.

Instead, he snorted at her, smirking . "You've been hanging around lando too much. Should have said bugger off." He told her amused.

She glared even harder then , wiping underneath her eyes with a little huff.

“Charles. I'm serious. I don't want to talk to you." She told him , upset.

He just shrugged, getting comfortable . "Why are you so upset? Is this about that asshole again? Cause he doesn't deserve your tears." He asked her instead.

Cherrie groaned . Then looked at his soft eyes, stubborn face and gave in.

Her amor falling down just like that.

"I know but all I've known is touch and go." She murmured sadly . Finally Letting him in . "It's never permanent and it's always me that gets my heart broken. Men fucking suck."

Charles blinked , then "thanks. I can confirm that we do suck. But why are you crying? It's over now , no? You should be celebrating if anything, that you got rid of that asshole!" He nudged her foot with his again. Grinning at her like a fool as he tried to cheer her up.

and it worked. Her shoulders slowly relaxing without her even realising it as she giggled, looking over at him in amusement .

"In this party? They don't even have any real food! They offered tiny cheese that even a mouse would go hungry eating!" She complained to him.

Eyes widening in surprise when he suddenly jumped to his feet, grinning down at her as he offered her His hand.

"Come in then!" He said . Rolling his eyes when she just looked up at him like he was insane.

“Let's get out of here! We can see what's open and hang out . Hopefully over some pizza." He tugged at her hand impatiently , pulling her to her feet when she failed to do it herself.

Gasping a little with a laugh as he started rushing her out of the grand doors, paying no mind to the looks they received .

He just held onto her hand tighter , her other hand quickly reaching down to hold up her dress as they started to run down the dark and empty street together .

Charles laughing as she squealed , giggling along with him too.

"I'm going to fall!" She exclaimed while wobbling.

But Charles just tugged her closer, tightening his grip on her hand as he looked over at her with a wide grin on his face. Beaming at her , eyes sparkling beneath the moonlight.

"Then don't let go!" He said.

'We are alone, just you and me

Up in your room and our slates are clean

Just twin fire signs, four blue eyes'

Cherrie didn't know how she ended up here. In Charles room at midnight , sleep clouding her eyes as he pulled her lazily to his chest, his fingertips tracing soft letters into her shoulders. Feeling his soft breathing ontop of her forhead as he held her close , their legs intertwined as they listened to the faint sound of the radio playing .

"I shouldn't be doing this." She whispered into the dark, yet snuggled into him even closer . Feeling his lips curve into a smile against the top of her head, laughing lightly as he gently flicked between her shoulders

He just hummed "you should be doing whatever you want to be doing." He simply replked. Twirling her hair around his finger with his other hand, lost in all that she was. all that she could be.

Cherrie sighed, troubled.

Frowning sadly "I don't know what I want anymore." She admitted to him , feeling a small weight break apart from her chest as she did so.

Charles sighed too, like her sadness was hurting him. Then he carefully pulled away until they were nose to nose , looking into her eyes with all the patience in the world for her.

She softened. And He did too. His heart mirrored hers. All she was him then.

And All he had ever seen was her.

"And That's okay. You will." He believed it. He trusted it.

He had her now and he was going to make sure that she knew what good love felt like for as long as she would let him.

And she knew. And she exhaled shakily , hugging him to her as she felt a small surge of guilt run through her body.

"You don't want this Charles . I'm a mess." She tried to make him see.

But he did see her. and he loved what he saw, he always had. A few shitty ex boyfriends wouldn't scare him away.

"I think I'll decide what I want." He told her in vague amusement . As stubborn as she was. He wasn't about to let this , her, go.

"You'll be waiting a long time." She tried again. But it was futile .

He just laughed "I don't care. It'll be worth the wait." He whispered back to her, smiling softly.

She felt her cheeks flush and then she smiled too.

'And I've loved in shades of wrong

We learn to live with the pain

Mosaic broken hearts

But this love is brave and wild'

The ghost of past heartbreak got easier to deal with because of course it did. and what once felt overwhelming and painful now just felt something like vague annoyance , a little sadness of what could of been.

But she wasn't alone to face it this time. So when Ben, her ex , turned to her with a new woman on his arm at a party, she could only let out a resigned laugh. Because this was how she let go.

She felt Charles arm tighten briefly around her waist but she didn't look at him. Feeling him with her was enough to give her the courage to smile in face of somebody that had hurt her deeply, and now she barely felt a thing towards him at all.

"Hey." Ben breathed out nervously , looking at her with big eyes that darted between her and Charles with a slight frown. "How have you been?" He asked her .

It was then that she Finally glanced over at Charles, stifling a laugh as she saw the look on his face, clearly unimpressed and looking like he wanted nothing more than to trip her ex boyfriend into a pile of hot shit.

"How have I been?" She mused.

Meeting Charles knowing eyes as she thought about the summer of holidays , of exploring places and a new body. Of soft kisses and unbroken promises , of commitment and truths.

She thought about all the good love that she had experienced lately at the hands of Charles , who had done but persistently show her that she deserved nothing but the best.

That she didn't need to overthink the bare minimum because he gave her the world.

He have been showing her what a man truly in love looked like. And he was looking at her like she was his best friend, like she hung all the stars in his sky. Like he was looking at her and see the future , saw a bride. Saw a forever friend

So she smiled at Ben genuinely , shocking him as she told him Honeslty . "I've been good."

Because she was learning to live  with the pain of broken memories. Of fading , old loves and she was slowly having her heart stitched back together by the soft hands of her teammate.

'This is a state of grace

This is the worthwhile fight

Love is a ruthless game

Unless you play it good and right'

But it wasn't easy and they're were moments were Cherrie was so sure that Charles would leave her. That he would see what a mess she really was and realise that she wasn't worth the fight.

But he stayed each and every time .

He fought back when she screamed at him to go, because he knew that wasn't what she really wanted…she just wasn't used to being verbally emotional with a guy that actually loved her.

She was So used to quick goodbyes and letting go. So used to feeling like a stepping stone.

But this was different now. It hit different now.

"This isn't going to fucking work Charles! You're insane for thinking that it ever would!" She screamed at him. Upset and worked up over something that she couldn't even explain.

All the ghosts of bad love making her like this. Making her shiver with unease . Expecting all the bad things, anticipating the goodbye.

And she thought that he would crumble , that he would leave her like they all did and had.

But this was Charles , who was just as stubborn as she was. and crazily in love with her too. He wasn't going anywhere.

He was in this for forever .

"You're insane If you think I'm just going to give up because you're scared Cherrie!" He gave it to her bluntly . Wanting to give her a little shake so that she would just listen to him.

She was so stubborn. But he loved her, so fucking much.

This was the worthwhile fight. And love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right.

and he knew that she needed a little bit of tough love sometimes , some directness to get her there. She was used to being brushed aside and nobody fighting back, used to no effort and lies.

Charles wasn't going to let that happen ever again. He chose honesty . Always. Because no relationship would last if it was built on flimsy lies.

"All those other guys. They are idiots okay? They were stupid , insecure boys who didn't know what to do or how to handle a woman like you! They didn't know what they had until you are gone and that's on them. Not you." He told her firmly . Planting his hands gently on her arms to turn her to face him.

With attitude, she slapped them away. Huffing as she glared back at him. He stubbornly glared back too. Not giving in.

He wasn’t going to let her push him away.

“And you do? You can handle me?" She scoffed. Expecting him to back off the. . She was being a bitch and she knew it.

Because Charles was right, she was scared.

Because this felt real.

It was real. and she had never felt anything good like this before, she felt like she was waiting for it all to fall down .

Waiting For him to lie, to hurt her. To chose another girl , to love anyone but her when he finally got bored of her attitude  , got sick of her in general.

But then she looked at him. His tearful eyes and incredulous smile as he took another step closer to her, never walking away. Looking at her with a shake of his head, even laughing a little and she knew.

She knew this was different.

This was it.

"I can. I do." He continued for her quietly "because I love you. I am so in love with you that when you’re being mean to me, When you’re making your stupid jokes and telling me all your bitchy gossip. and when you're everything that those other guys told you were 'bad traits'. I fall in love with you even more. Because you're you." He told her simply , heart wide open for her to see.

She had the keys to it, it felt like she always had. He had just been waiting for her to use them, to see him.

"And I love you."

She could see him clearly now. And she finally believed him, trusted him.

So she kissed him .

She grabbed his face between her hands. And kissed him like it would be the last time, but it was the beginning of forever .

He was going to be the last man she ever kissed hopefully , his head tilting with a soft moan as he pulled her close. Even smiling ahinst her teeth as she tried to deepen it , groaning in frustration when his breathless laugh forced them to break apart.

"What?" She wondered. Grinning just because he was. She gently stroked the red apples of his cheeks with her thumbs , fondly .

He turned his head and gently kissed her hand "I'm gonna need to head you say it back." He told her seriously. Impatiently this time.

He even placed his hands on his hips , raising a eyebrow at her while she just huffed a laugh of amusement . Shaking her head at him with a little giggle, pulling him back into her.

"I am so in love with you, you idiot! God! How could I not be?" She breathed out. Her Heart finally healed, heart golden and her heart all for him.

He kissed her this time. and he kissed her and it tasted like forever. It tasted like love.

But this time, it felt good and right. It was worth the wait, worth every tear and every fight.

Because All the bad love had brought her here, into his arms. Where he was always waiting , and she was never gonna be the same.

'This is the golden age of something good and right and real'.

[astrafoundarchive-blog]

can they,,,, pls stop rushing seasons

[vquacki]

Carnival Confession

Carnival Confession

Characters: BONTEN - Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Sanzu Haruchiyo

Warning ⚠︎︎ : Mature content, cussing, MINORS DNI

Note : I recently went to universal, n have been thinking about writing something related to such. So here it is! This is coming out earlier than usual cause I wanted to start writing early for some reason (•̀ᴗ•́)و

Also I know I’ve been slacking, I’m trying my best to get better. And be better as a fanfic writer ಠ_ಠ but um. It’s really hard :,) AnYwaYs Enjoy! Reblogs & Notes are appreciated, ily ♡︎♡︎

R I N D O U 

He was starting to reevaluate his decision, he hated crowded areas so the fact he even came to the carnival with you surprised him as well. His muscles were starting to ache from all the walking, plus all the annoying children's squeals as they rode the huge crane. 

But out of his own consideration he tagged along, fretting you'd be alone at the huge arena all alone made his heart falter. 

Pitiful little thing. 

“Rin~ let's go on the ferris wheel for our last ride!” You cheered, hooking your arms to pull him through the empty line. 

 ‘So it's been that long already?’ he internally sighed. 

“Fine by me.” He obliged, not caring what ride you wanted him on. 

Carefully boarding the spinning wheel, taking a seat across from you. Chin in his palm as he watched the scenery, angle slowly changing as the ferris wheel moved. The night sky taking over the orange hues of sunray, the glowing lanterns sitting below him, hundreds of people that looked as small as ants walking around. 

Smiles of happy families along with the many couples taking selfies with the carnival costumes. Laughs and screams flying around the gleeful place of excitement. 

Sure, he was enjoying his time here with you, but the itching feeling of confessing to you was eating him away. He couldn’t stand watching the males gawk at you whilst you walked by. 

He wanted you for himself, he wanted to touch you. Make everyone know you are his, and his alone. Pushing his feelings aside, he broke the silenced cart. 

“Y/N, I’ll drop you off af-“ He was cut off by your angelic voice calling out to him. 

“Rindou” 

“Ar, what?” He flinched from the steady tone, hands fidgeting on his knee, waiting for your message. 

“I want to tell you something, Rindou,” You stated. Your eyes staring beams on the prize, Rindou himself. The way you said his name made heat rush to his core, ‘why were you being so serious all of a sudden?’

“Sure sure, I’m feeling tired so make it snappy. Gonna sleep for the rest of the ride” Rindou gruffed, eyes flickering towards you before looking back out the window. 

“I like you” 

“Right right, I k-“ Rindou stopped, violet irises fluttering under the moons. 

“What?!” His gruff voice came off as a squeal, hands fumbling around.

“It’s okay, you don't have to answer. I just wanted to let you know” You smiled, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink, barely visible under the small bulb of light hanging off the carte. 

“You idiot..” 

“I l-like you too” His gaze looked everywhere but you, tip of his ears reddening from his own response. 

Your eyes gleamed under the moonlight at your recuperated feelings. Hands outstretching, leaping across the car to wrap your arms around the male. The cart suddenly tilting at your movement, but the shaking was completely ignored. Hiding your growing smile as you rubbed your nose into his shirt.

“You're not lying are you?” You grinned, hands coming up from his neck to caress his heated cheeks.

“Such a fool..” He smiled against your touch, leaning into the warmth of your palm. 

He know knew the joyous that came from this oh so ‘stupid’ trip. He was thrilled he came, otherwise you would have never confessed to the man. 

R A N 

His eyes wandered the food stalls, hand intertwined with yours while you both walked. Making the excuse of not wanting you to furry away from him, not wanting to lose you in the crowd. Not that you minded either way.

The smell of all kinds of delicious goodies filling your nostrils. Mouth practically drooling out for a bite. 

“Ran, let’s get a candy apple!” You cheered, that was going to be your first treat. Hopping up and down in excitement, finger pointing at the colorful hut. It was an appetizer for the many that would come. 

“As you wish,” Ran nodded. His palm melted between your touch, mind contemplating whether you could feel the sweat radiating from his own fist. Though he'd never admit he was anxious, too prideful for admitting such defeat. A rather confident man, for good reasons. 

“And then..maybe a corndog?” You added, a halfly pout staring up at him. 

“Of course my leisure, whatever you want.” He said, a playful banter he'd sometimes indulge you in every once a while. His beloved princess, to his knight in shining armour demeanor. 

A secret love he wanted to reveal so badly. 

“You're the best, Ran!” You pumped your fist in the air, a smile on your lips was all he needed to spoil you. It was that easy. 

“I'm offended, have you ever thought otherwise” His snarky remark followed with a smirk. 

“Nope!” You giggled, 

Hastily devouring the many goodies, filling your appetite to the max. The two of you made your way to the main event, the lights of life before the carnival announced its closing, the fireworks. Taking a seat on the stone that lined the flower bushes. The perfect view compared to the crowded benches. 

“On the fireworks, let's share a secret” You suggested, no demanded. Cheeky grin on your features, however your heart was different. Ready to beat out of your chest as you awaited the burst of lights that would take over the dark sky. 

“Unless your chicken” You teased. 

“Sure, don’t be too surprised. My secret is a big one” Ran laughed, accepting your challenge. 

“Likewise” You replied. 

Just like that the first boom racked your ears, emitting colorful lights in the pitch black atmosphere. 

Everything was so loud, but so quiet at the same time. You didn't hear the words that the people around you hollered. All you could focus on was the male beside you. 

Your eyes widened when you read his lips, you both had said the exact same thing.

“I like you” 

“What.” You were astonished, jaw grazing the cement floor below you. 

“Jinx, you owe me a kiss now doll” Ran sneered, grin grasped on his lips. 

“Not fair!” You huffed, a frown upon you. 

“Pfft, this is as fair as it gets hun.” He chuckled, 

“Now, pay up” He leaned in, close enough for you to feel his breath feathering over you, his orbs looming above you. The close contact making you fume from the ears, heat quickly rushing to your face. 

“What! But we can't just skim over that we confessed-” You were interrupted by a finger shushing your obnoxious ruckus. 

“Give what you owe me” Ran commanded, 

“It's not very trustworthy, if you don't” He added, an exaggerated sigh leaving his lips. A fake pout present on him. 

“But I've never-” You were going to reject it, You definitely would have regretted it. Except you knew you wanted it, wanted his touch. 

“I'll guide you” Ran whispered, body slowly moving towards you. Hands feathering of your fists, clasping your fingers on the segment of the rigid rocks. 

“Fine cheater” You whimpered under his touch, moving until your lips touched his. Closed eyes fluttering as he furthered the kiss, not caring who saw. The whole world could be watching and he still wouldn't banter towards them. 

You could feel his sly grin against you, using his free hand to grasp the back of your hair. Feathering between your locks. 

You were finally his. 

S A N Z U

Who'd think he would be the one dragging you around, forcing you to risk your life when he pushed you into every roller coaster with a loop on its tracks. It was a requirement, if there wasn't a slope or a loop that made your hair fall to gravity, it wasn't worth the line. 

But he could tell you were starting to get wheezy, hand clutching your stomach as you bent down behind the corner of the tent displaying stuffed animals. 

“Alrighy then~! Game time baby!” He clapped, eyeing the many game tents that were lined up. One game after another, there was even a gravity halter at the end of the long street. This wasn't exactly like killing, though it had a similar feeling of adrenaline for the man. 

“Thank you, I don't think I have the strength to ride roller coasters anymore.” You relieved, hands holding the pole beside you for support. 

“I'm going to win every bitch ass plushie there is” His teeth shined with his shit eating grin, his expression made the game host shutter, sweat dropping as they watched him waltz over to the game. 

“This place will go fucking bankrupt with me here” He laughed, throwing a few bills over the counter. 

��Calm down Haru, you're scaring everyone” You whispered, a hand over your mouth. Trying to keep the composure down by just a tad, the pink haired not particularly helping in the slightest. 

“Eh?” he turned around, blue eyes scattering across all the civilians. Worried look in their eyes when their eyes met his scar filled face. 

“Boo~” He grinned, wiggling his finger towards them. His fangs dangling in his mouth, teasing tone strung in his voice. Watching in amusement while the parents rushed the children away,

“Now” whipping his body back to the game, scooping the darts up. One eye closed, the other squinting at the colorful balloons in each individual tote. Swiftly shooting the sharp objects across the tent, popping every balloon he laid his eye upon. Reassuringly backing up his confident statements up with his actions. 

“Child play I tell ya” He gleed, wiping the ‘germs’ that resonated on his hands. 

“Good job Haru! At first I thought you were all talk” You clapped, cheering for the man. 

“Doubting me? I see” Sanzu huffed, titling his head in excitement. He was going to go all out, show you just how impressive he is. 

“Hey! Y’know I didn't mean it like that!” You protested, brows knitting together at his words. 

“Game keep, give me the pink teddy bear” Sanzu motioned to the wall filled with all types of stuffed prizes. 

“H-here sir, have a good d-day” The host carefully passed the stuffie over the counter, hand trembling as Sanzu snatched the bear away before shoving the teddy into your arms. 

“Heres, daily reminder of me” He winked, shoving his hands into his pocket. Quickly turning around, walking towards the next stall. 

“Oh, t-thanks Haru” You mumbled, trying to hide the smile that threatened to force its way onto your features. Admiring the pink bear with ocean blue eyes that sat nicely in your hands, it really did look like Sanzu. 

“Next game!” He hollered. 

It had been hours, taking turns playing. Sanzu won every gift he wanted, throwing each plus into your arms for you to keep. Saying snarky remarks every time you lost a game, making it up to you when he won the game for you. 

He was focused on the games, but very aware. Seeing every dude that even looked at you longer for a second, engraving all their faces into his memory. His violent glare shooing away the pest that loomed at you as of current,  Determining to just deal with the bugs later. Even if you weren't a couple, he couldn't help his feelings of jealousy inside him.

“Haru, I got a question” you paced alongside him, hands full with the plushies he had given you. 

“Whatcha want” He peered down at you, hands completely empty. A mocking seeth as he placed his hands behind his head while he walked. 

“Would you still be my friend i-if um I liked you?” You hid your flustered face behind the pile of fluff in your hands. 

“Oh Y/N” Sanzu’s laugh boomed through the poorly lit streets, it was less crowded now. It was late, time for families to get home for work tomorrow. 

“My precious Y/N,” He halted his movements, causing you to stop in your tracks. Still hiding your face, looking at his feet in front of you.  

“I like you as well” Sanzu turned around with a grin, ogling down at you. Making you blush at his mirrored confession. 

“Such a feeble little thing, come here won't you?” He mumbled, arms spreading for you to come into. 

“You're a weirdo Haruchiyo” You groaned, feet moving as you nuzzled into his chest, or well the pile of stuff nuzzled into his chest. You were starting to regret letting him get all of these prizes. 

[gubler-me-up]

Eye of the Beholder

Request: So u and Spence work together and u haven’t gotten together before. One day, the weekend after a tough case, he comes over to hang out only to find you all puffy and a mess. (Like 3 day old unwashed hair). He realizes why, emotions are revealed, and boom! s m u t

A/N: Thanks for the request, @bi-sub-spence! Not going to lie, this took me a minute to write because I wanted to fit every component in that you requested but had to modify some things to make it flow (had to dim the smut down a bit sorry it’s still a smut tho!!) I hope you enjoy it!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Plus!size fem reader

Category: Smut 

Content warning: Self-degradation, mention of a fire, mention of death, fingering, clit stimulation

Word count: 3.7k

——————–

You packed up your things to get ready to leave the bureau for the weekend. You felt as if the week had been longer than a normal week. It felt as if you had just lived through three weeks back to back with no breaks. On top of the case you and the team wrapped up, it felt as if the whole world was out of your hands.

A lot had been going through your head the week before the case. Usual feelings of doubting your impact on the world. The doubt of having a purpose. The case solidified your doubts of even being on the team anymore.

“Y/N.”

You froze when you heard Spencer call you. You felt your throat go dry and your eyes widened as you got lost in your mind. Everything seemed to play out right in front of you again.

“Y/N,” Spencer yelled.

He grabbed your arm to yank you away from the flames coming from inside the house. You tried to yank your arm away from his hand but he wasn’t letting you go. You needed to go back in there to save him. It was your fault he ended up trapped in there in the first place. You should’ve been in there with him.

You tried to yank away from his grasp again but he didn’t give you another chance of trying to get away from him. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back. You were pretty sure he could feel you shaking to your core as manic tears started running down your face and the sound of despair left your mouth.

“Y/N, stop. We can’t do anything,” he said.

“Y/N,” Spencer called again.

You broke out of your train of thought as you turned your head to look behind you. He stood a few inches away from you and the concern plastered on his face wasn’t hard to miss. It was hard to think he would look that concerned if he didn’t already know what you were in deep thought about.

You grabbed your bag and placed it over your shoulder. You flashed a quick smile to show him you were fine. You didn’t fool either of you. You could see in his eyes he had this unwavering sympathy that you wanted to run away from. You didn’t want any more sympathy. You wanted to lay in your bed and forget about your life.

“Are we still on for this weekend?” He asked.

You raised a questionable eyebrow. “On for?”

“Remember? I was going to go over to your place, so we could watch some movies and order pizza,” he said.

“Oh, yeah, about that. I think we should postpone until next weekend,” you said.

You could see the instant disappointment and further concern all mix on his face. He reached out his hand to grab onto your upper arm. He gently rubbed it to send some reassurance your way. On any other day, you would have been giddy if he even reached out in an attempt to touch you but his touch only reminded you of him holding you back from the fire.

“Y/N, we can talk about what happened. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he said.

You flashed a smile. “Thanks but I just need some sleep. I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

Before he could get another word in, you yanked your arm away from his touch and walked past him. You rushed out of the bullpen before he could try to stop you because you knew he will. It’s not as if you blamed him for holding you back from saving a life. In fact, you blamed yourself a great deal for putting someone’s life in danger through your missteps. Going back in the fire was the least you could do to amend for what you did.

When you unlocked your apartment door, you didn’t feel your usual sense of relief of being home. After a long case away, you would have been giddy to be back in your bed. However, you still felt torn inside. You couldn’t get the fire away from your sight. The smell of smoke still filling your lungs. The last bit of chance saving Michael when you saw him close the door.

You walked in and closed the door behind you. You dropped your bag at the door as it was becoming too heavy. Not because it was packed heavily, you actually packed it quite light. You just couldn’t find the strength to hold anything anymore. You barely even had the strength to stand as you felt your knees shaking.

You could feel your whole body shake the more you walked towards your room. You wanted to crawl into your bed immediately and forget about your week. It would be even better if you could forget about your whole existence as well.

You opened your bedroom door to be greeted by the mess of your room. Clothes on the floor, cups half-filled covered your nightstand, your bed unmade. It would stay like that until you found the energy to sort it out. The way you felt like not moving for an eternity, you guessed it would have to wait that long to get done as well.

You passed by your huge standing mirror in your room. You stopped and looked at yourself. You scanned your body from head to toe and back up. You knew if you weren’t horridly overweight you could have ran faster to grab Michael in time.

You pinched the skin on your side. You kept pinching it harder and harder and harder until it became numb pain. You watched yourself in the mirror. You looked like an absolute wreck.

You stopped pinching your side and moved your hand’s attention to your face. You caressed over the scars of imperfections past covering your face. You tilted your face up to reveal even more of them covering your neck and chest.

You were disgusted by yourself. Of course Michael wouldn’t trust you. You looked like his enemy. You would run into a ticking time bomb as well.

You could hear your phone ringing from within your bag. You couldn’t find the strength to move away from the mirror to answer it. It felt as if your brain couldn’t think of anyone wanting to contact you after figuring out who you truly were: a monster. You let it ring.

And let it ring and ring again. You just let it ring as you stared at yourself until your eyes felt as if they were going black with only the imagery of flames being the constant flash of light in the darkness. You could feel the smoke in your lungs. You wanted to scream out for Michael but you couldn’t make a peep. You just stood there, useless.

Your phone was still ringing but there was a faint knocking coming from afar. You groaned as you opened your eyes. You didn’t even remember getting into bed but you were glad you were laying down. You couldn’t even fathom getting up. The noise around you, however, was making it difficult for you to fall back asleep.

You couldn’t think of what all the noise was for. You were starting to think it was all in your head. You couldn’t think of one person who would be calling you nonstop, let alone someone visiting you. You closed your eyes to try to shut out the noise and to go back to forgetting about your existence.

“Y/N.”

Your eyes shot open when you heard the faint sound of your voice being called. The voice sounded familiar but you decided to not decipher it. If you ignored them for long enough, they would probably go away. However, they kept calling and calling and calling your name. Your phone was also still ringing and if you could guess, whoever was calling your phone was also calling your name.

“Y/N.”

You slowly got up from your bed to go towards your front door. You had a feeling the voice behind the door was the only person you knew who would come to check on you.

You stood at your door and peeped through the peephole to see Spencer standing there, knocking and calling out your name. You couldn’t see his expression clearly but from the sound of his voice you could tell just how much concern he had for your wellbeing.

You would open the door to show him you were fine but he would see right through it. Your hair hadn’t been washed in a while, you were still in your work clothes and who knows what your face looked like with all the smudged makeup you had failed to take off. You would look like the monster you knew you were all along.

“Y/N, if you can hear me, can you please let me know you’re okay? I’ve tried to call you all weekend but you haven’t been answering. I just need to know you’re okay,” he said.

You sighed as you unlocked your front door but made sure the chain was still intact. You didn’t want him to see the whole of you. Just enough so he knew you were breathing.

As you opened the door, you saw his face immediately relax in relief as he saw half your face peeking at him. He looked at his phone and immediately hung up whoever he was calling. When he did, your phone stopped ringing as well, as you had expected.

“I’m okay,” you said.

“You haven’t responded to anyone’s calls or texts for almost three days. I-well, we were all worried,” he said.

“I’ve just been taking some time for myself. Nothing to worry about,” you said.

“If that’s the case, may I come in? I brought some movies and popcorn, so we can hang out and hopefully make you feel better about our last case,” he said.

As soon as he said that, you could feel your mouth go dry. The cloud of smoke came over your vision and the heaviness filled your lungs. It was almost too hard to stand. You could only shake your head as you tried to close the door. He stopped you by shoving his foot in-between the door, so you couldn’t lock him out.

You looked at his foot blocking your escape. You wanted to slam the door in his face and run back into your bed. You didn’t even know why you got out in the first place. Now he wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

“Y/N, can you please let me in?” He begged.

“Spence, I think it’s best I don’t,” you said.

“Why’s that?” He asked.

“Because…” you started as tears flowed down your face.

There was a moment of silence between you two as he waited for you to continue. You were having trouble piecing together why you didn’t want to let him in. You were a mess, you were worthless, you were hideous. You couldn’t let him come any closer to you.

Then you felt his hand cup your face as his thumb gently wiped away a tear. You didn’t want to look up at him to see any more of you. Not the tears, not the scars, not the smudged makeup. You didn’t want him to see you for who you really were.

“I’m not going to let someone I love suffer in silence like this,” he said.

You immediately looked up as soon as he said the word ‘love.’ You had to look at him to see if you had imagined those words leaving his mouth. As soon as your eyes met his, you knew he meant what he had said. His eyes were filled with concern and care you hadn’t seen anyone have for you in years.

You sighed as you unhooked the chain on your door to fully open it. He removed his hand from your face as he shuffled his way inside of your apartment. He didn’t take your eyes off of you the whole time as you closed the door. It made you self-conscious. He could see how awful you looked. The raw you. How you felt on the inside.

He looked at you with no distaste though. He gave you a gracious smile, almost sympathetic. You wanted to hide away from his gaze. Even though he was smiling at you, you felt as if he was judging every part of you.

He probably wondered why you were still in your work clothes from Friday or why your makeup was still on. Your hair was tangled and unwashed. You wondered if he could tell. You started to sweat from being nervous of him possibly thinking you smell since you hadn’t showered in almost three full days.

“It’s okay to ask for help sometimes,” he said as he dropped his bag.

“What?” You asked.

“Have you had a relaxing bath in a while? That's what I do when I’m feeling down,” he said.

“You said you couldn’t let someone you love suffer. I’m just happy you stopped by to say that. You don’t have to do anything else,” you insisted.

He shook his head. “I want to. I feel terrible for not going home with you on Friday to make sure you were okay. The look you had on Friday left me feeling…guilty.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Guilty?”

“I should have tried better to let you know that nothing was your fault about the case. I know how hard you take things and it hurts knowing you get down on yourself. I just want to hold you close to let you know everything’s okay,” he admitted.

You let out a long sigh after digesting everything he said. It  didn’t fully erase the pain or depression you were feeling towards yourself or the case but you loved the fact he was trying. You could hear how genuine he was about wanting to be there for you.

You formed a small smile. “This job is haunting. It doesn’t help that tough cases weigh heavy on me and I start questioning myself even more than I already do.”

“You shouldn’t do that. You’re a great profiler, a great person, and most importantly, you’re you. You should love everything about you as much as I do,” he said.

You paused before you said anything again. That was the second time he had said he loved you. At first you didn’t think much of it but now you were considering he was trying to tell you something. You stared at him intently to see if he looked as if he loved you. If you were as great of a profiler as he said, you could tell.

“How much do you love me?” You asked, softly.

“I love you enough to start a hot bath for you and we’ll go from there,” he suggested with a shrug.

“I’d like that a lot,” you sniffled.

Spencer had his back towards you as you took off your clothes to hop in the hot bubble bath he had prepared for you. Even having him so close to you made you nervous. What if he could somehow see your rolls or stretch marks on your thighs? Would he take back everything he said before if he saw how low your breasts sagged without a bra?

You could feel the cloud come back over you as you hopped into the tub. Even though his words made you feel alive inside, you couldn’t shake the awful thoughts about yourself fully. It was not knowing how he’d react to you once he saw your naked body. If he saw your naked body.

You looked at him to see his back still turned as he leaned against the doorframe. You splashed some water on your face to remove your makeup residue, so you were completely you. You could feel your hands shake.

“Are you in the tub?” He asked.

“Yup,” you said.

“Would you like anything? I can get you something to drink or even a snack,” he said.

“No thank you,” you said.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to relax. I’ll just be out in your living room,” he said.

“Wait,” you said.

You paused before you continued. You didn’t know if you wanted to say what you wanted to anymore. You sighed as you were about to tell him ‘nevermind.’

“Can you stay here with me? Like, sit next to me,” you asked.

He slowly turned around to look at you. Your heart stopped as he examined you with wide, curious eyes. He smiled as he walked into the bathroom and sat on the toilet right next to the bathtub as you requested. He was blushing as he tried not to peek at the body parts not covered by the millions of bubbles.

You tried to cover yourself up with as many bubbles as possible. You couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking. He probably saw you for your real size and real scars and hated it. He was just too polite to say anything about it. You started to think it was a horrible idea inviting him to be with you while you bathed three days of filth away.

“You really love bubbles,” he commented.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

He looked at you concerned. “Is there something wrong? Is the water too hot? Do I make you uncomfortable? If I’m staring a lot, I don’t mean to it’s just that-”

“You think I’m hideous,” you said.

He violently shook his head as he looked repulsed by you even uttering those words. He gently grabbed your hand from the depths of the hot water to hold it in his. He squeezed it tight and held it close to him as he gave you that same genuine look from when you opened the door.

“Y/N, I know learning to love yourself takes time but I want you to know that I love everything about you. You’re the most gorgeous woman to me, inside and out. I’ll be here every step of the way to help you realize that,” he said.

You could feel the tears flow down his face as you listened to him. Some of the words he said were finally sticking to your brain as you started to accept his feelings. It meant the world to you he was there for you with such love and generosity in his heart.

“I love you, Spence,” you said.

He smiled. “I love you too. Is there anything else you need me to do for you?”

He used his free hand to wipe your tears as you thought about what you really wanted his hands to do. You wanted him to feel the real you. If he loved you for you, would he be willing to touch you in more ways than just your hands?

“It’s a weird request and don’t feel obligated to,” you said.

“I’d do anything for you. All you gotta do is ask,” he said.

“Can you make me feel…feel…” you said as you tried to put it into words.

He used his free hand to caress your neck up and down. You smiled at his gentle touch as he understood your drift without you needing to explain yourself further.

“Would you like me to go lower?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yes, please.”

He smiled as his face turned visibly red. He caressed his hand down your neck to your chest. You watched as his eyes focused on your breasts as he gently cupped one in your hand and gently massaged your nipple. You softly moaned.

“Am I doing good?” He asked.

“Very,” you moaned.

He smiled. “Would you like me to go lower?”

You nodded and he didn’t hesitate to obey. You watched as his hands caressed down your stomach. You held your breath as nerves took you over as he touched your stomach. You were sure he’d say something about your rolls but he seemed laser-focused on pleasuring you. Good thing his sleeves were already rolled up.

His hand reached your clit and you moaned as you felt him carefully rubbing it. You clenched your hand tighter in his as you tried to steady your breathing. You couldn’t imagine the last time you felt so excited inside. It was as if something inside of you was coming alive.

“Do you want me to go faster?” He asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

He did just as you wanted. He circled your clit over and over again until you were practically moaning his name unprovoked. He yanked your hand towards him to move you closer to him. He embraced you in a kiss as soon as he snuck two fingers into you.

You aggressively moaned in his mouth as his fingers curled in you. He gently rubbed your g-spot as his thumb still worked vigorously on your clit. You could barely keep your composure as he made you feel things you couldn’t put into sensible words.

“Oh my God, Spence,” you moaned.

He kissed you again. “I just want you to feel good. Always.”

You grabbed onto his shirt to pull him close to you. He immediately went back to kissing you, not getting enough of you. He let go of your hand to grab the back of your neck to keep you in place. He engulfed every moan you let out as his fingers worked you.

They worked you so much, your legs were shaking in the water. You could make waves from how much they were trembling. This tingling came over your body and your breathing became unstable to the point you thought you weren’t even in the moment anymore. You were somewhere else completely experiencing heaven.

You broke away from his mouth as you let out a breathless moan. You felt the electrifying feeling of an orgasm go through your body. You hadn’t felt something so intense in years. Once it passed, you looked Spencer in his eyes. He stared at you with a joyous smile on his face as he pulled his fingers out of you.

“You look at peace,” he said.

“Because I kind of am. You’ve made me feel things I haven’t felt in awhile,” you said.

“I’m glad I could make you feel that way. I hope this is a start in making you feel happier and happier today,” he said.

“I think we’re off to a good start to making that happen. Maybe the next steps would be some needed help with cleaning my room," you said.

He smiled and nodded. “Anything for you.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection @slutforthegubes @pinkdiamond1016 @spencerreidsthings @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @slutforsr @bxtchboy69 @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @agentadhd @fanofalltheficsx @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @dinsprettygirl @multixfandomwriter @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx @calm-and-doctor @muffin-cup @jessalyn-jpeg @princesssmooshie @solitarypeachh @spensual​ @gubler-me-swallow-me @reidsbookclub @isabellasimps @doctorspenceryeet

[enderwoah]

ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)

[taeyongers]

Exile (M)

pairing: hyunjae x reader

genre: smut, rival mob bosses au, childhood friends to lovers 

summary: basically two orphans grow up and end up in rival gangs without knowing, until you meet in the middle of a gunfight

warning: drugs mention, bullying, sexual harassment, old style orphanages, gangs, gunfights, slight mentions of blood and wounds, sexual content (be warned) but it’s mostly soft and fluffy, light sub! hyunjae for a time

word count: 8.5k 

a/n: loooool @letteredwings hi friend this for u, pls don’t headbutt hyunjae anymore

The earth is cold under your bare feet. Your toes are spread wide. Wet pebbled mud meshes through the spaces in between.

It’s raining. The pitter patter of raindrops against the concrete pavement makes you want to step a little farther out from the awning you stand under, to just feel it against your skin. Your hair has already gotten wet. You just need more, a feeling to break you free from the unchanging hell you face each day.

“Y/n!” A sharp voice, familiar, cuts you out of your thoughts. “What are you doing!? You’ll catch a cold!”

It’s Hyunjae, of course. You let him tug you back from under the awning, through the doors, up the wooden steps and into the dreary warmth.

He is your height at this age. His eyes are young and shining, brows furrowed in concern and anger.

“The headmistress will be angry,” he mumbles. His hands rub your sides to get some warmth in you.

“The headmistress doesn't care,” you mutter.

He scoffs at your words, takes your little hand in his and trudges up the stairs into his dormitory. He sits you down on his bed, rummages through his dresser, which is not even a foot away from the bed. It’s a pathetically small room.

“You'll need dry clothes,” he says to himself and pulls out a towel. He places it on your wet hair, brows still furrowed. “You need to take those off. You’ll get sick.”

Finally, your cheeks burn. “All the other children already tease that we’ll get married someday and you want me to take my clothes off in your room!?”

You shove away the towel from your head. His cheeks tint pink and he sits down beside you with a huff.

“I didn't mean you need to change right now. You can do it in your room. Just dry off first.” He picks up the towel and holds it out to you.

You give him a glare and snatch the towel before placing it on your hair. He looks at you, eyeing the water dripping down the strands.

“Why were you even outside in the rain?”

“I was bored.”

He doesn't believe you. “They were making fun of you, weren’t they?” You glare at him again. He smirks like he knows something. “And you ran outside? You could have come to find me.”

“Why? You’re not my brother.”

He falls silent.

You shift on his creaky bed. “Why do you help me so much? You protect me from the kids who throw food at my hair. You fight my bullies. You talk back to the headmistress when she is angry with me. You share your cookies with me. You hug me when I cry, take care of me when I’m sick, now you’re drying me off when I’m wet. Why?”

He looks at you and shrugs. “Because you can't defend yourself. You’re small.”

Anger rips through you. “Yes I can! I don't need you!” You shove at him, nearly toppling him from the bed.

He grapples your hands. “Fine! Fine, it’s not because of that!” He says, calming you down. “It’s because… I know that sad kids end up in those bad groups around town. The headmistress says those who don't behave will never find parents and will stay here until they turn sixteen. Once they leave, they are taken in by those bad people. And I know she says that for kids who don't behave but I think those kids are just sad.” You stare at him as he stutters. “So, I don’t want you to be sad. I don't want you to end up with those people.”

“So you’re saying I’m sad?” You ask. He touches a stray piece of your hair.

“I mean...I see how the other kids treat you. How the teachers and mistresses treat you. I would be sad.”

You look at him until your gaze falls. “Then... we should both make a promise to not be sad and end up with those people.” He nods and holds out his pinky. You interlace yours with his. “We’ll find parents, or we’ll grow up and become good people.”

He nods resolutely. “Yeah.”

Your hands fall away from each other.

“Do you.. wanna change into dry clothes and come back here? I hid some extra cookies for you.”

Your lips break out into a grin. “Okay!”

He grins back. You rush off, something light fluttering in your chest.

This is how childhood goes. You do everything together. He’s your rock and your shield, your only friend. He protects you from the other children, your teachers and from the world. When they manage to slip past him, your iron defense, and get to you, you hide away and cry. He always finds you, hugs you through your tears, shushes and comforts you.

Childhood years fall away into adolescence and teenage years. By sixteen, you will be thrown out into the world, forced to brave it on your own. Hyunjae and you try to make the most out of whatever miserable years you have left at the orphanage, and whatever little protection it offers you both during this time.

As you grow, he surpasses your height. His jaw becomes defined, his body lanky and tall until he's a head above you. He's handsome… so handsome and it makes your heart flip and cheeks burn. You still share food and he still comforts you when things are hard. You find a special place together, the rooftop of the orphanage, where you lie flat and feel as if the universe is swallowing you into itself.

“We can’t turn out bad,” He reminds himself and you. “We can't fall into those gangs that plague this city. We need to make a life for ourselves once we get out of here, no matter how hard it will be.”

“It won't be hard for you,” you say. “You’re a good person. You’ll be a doctor or something. I know it.”

He scoffs, staring up at the night sky. “You don’t know that.”

“I do!” Your brows furrow. “You’re the best person here. This place doesn’t deserve you.”

He looks at you with stars in his eyes. He moves as if going to touch your cheek, but changes his mind.

“Okay,”  he whispers, “but it doesn't deserve you either.”

You stare at him. You wonder constantly if he feels something for you. You find him looking at you when you don’t notice, something akin to stars in his eyes, though to be fair, they have been there since childhood. But you’re not convinced that he feels anything for you other than that of a sister, a friend.

He holds out his pinky finger, a reassurance of that promise. You cross your finger with his.

Life’s problems change as time goes on. Bullying from the other orphans becomes more personal, more cruel. At just 15, the children have been introduced to drugs, sex, and using violence for intimidation. They wonder loudly about your relationship with Hyunjae. They wonder what you’re giving him for someone like him to care about such a loser like you.

Like that one time when a boy and his friends corner you after dinner, sneers and hatred spouting in their mouths.

“Are you his whore or something?” He asks, eyes burning holes into you. “Do you have to use that mouth in convincing ways to keep him protecting you? Maybe we need convincing as well,” he laughs with his friends.

You slip past them and run to your room. You cry until you can't breathe. Hyunjae finds you, he always finds you, soft voice filled with concern asking what, what is it, please tell me.

You tell him in between sobs. His eyes grow hard and cold. He hugs you tightly, shushes and strokes your hair until you calm down and fall asleep in his arms. His grip is gentle, but something in him is colder than usual.

The next day, he disappeared. You hear shouting in the headmistress’ office. He returns in the night, bruises sprouting across his face. His hand is clenched tight, swollen and bruised and messy. His eyes are still hard and cold.

You sit him down in your room. On this rare occasion, you’re the one taking care of him. You drag a wet rag gently across his swollen knuckles and his bruised cheekbones.

“What happened? Where were you?”

He doesn’t respond. He’s glaring at something far off and refuses to tell you.

The next day, you find that he’s been sentenced to weeks of latrine duty. You find out from another boy, Chanhee, about what happened. Hyunjae had attacked the boy who harassed you the day before.

“So then Hyunjae shows up and beats the crap out of him behind the building. If you think hyunjae looked bad, you should have seen the other guy.”

You get angry. Not at him, but at yourself. Why, why were you so weak? Why does Hyunjae put himself at risk for you? Why did Hyunjae grow up putting himself at risk for you, just because you couldn't protect yourself?

The other kids already think you’re doing some kind of sexual favors for him to protect you from abuse. You feel ashamed, disgusted. Why does he associate himself with someone as weak and useless as you?

You begin to distance yourself from him. You don’t go over to his room or let him stay in yours. You don’t hang out with him when you’re permitted to go outside. You begin to talk less, eat less together and, stop your rooftop meetings all together, feigning a headache or something else each time he asks. You feel it’s for the best. He should live his life for himself, not for you.

It doesn’t work. He ends up cornering you one day, hurt flooding his eyes, something you never want to see again. “Why are you ignoring me?”

You sigh.

“Did someone say something? Did they threaten-”

“What am I to you?” You ask.

His resolve burns away, and he’s left confused, mouth bobbing open and closed like a fish. “You’re my friend-”

“Do you love me?”

His brows furrow. “Of course I love you.”

“Are you in love with me?”

He goes still. Silent.

You look away. Of course not. He’s just protecting you because he feels that you’re too weak to do it yourself.

“I feel like a burden  You keep making up for my weaknesses.”

“Hey,” he tilts your chin up. “It’s not your fault. People are shit. I’m just helping you.“

“And you keep getting hurt. Our lives are already miserable here, and I’m just making yours worse.”

“Stop,” he says, eyes conflicted, unable to get the words out. He never was good with them.

“I’m turning sixteen soon. I’m going away.”

His brows furrow. “Where?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere. I’ll get a job, and live my life.”

“But I don’t want you to go!” He erupts, rattling you. He sees your expression and softens. “We can… we can go together. Live together.”

“I’m already a burden on you. And besides, why would you? You’re not in love with me.”

He’s silent. His eyes are burning with something he wants to say. But he doesn't. He never does. And neither do you.

...

You turn sixteen, no longer legally allowed to stay at the orphanage. You move away and become a waitress. You don’t hear from Hyunjae again. You get used to your new life, find an apartment, and appreciate the small, new found freedom of living by yourself. Of course, the struggle for money is always there as well as a deep ache in your heart that refuses to go away, but it’s more than you’ve ever had.

Eight years go by and you break your promise. You ended up getting involved with the wrong people in the allure of deals for quick ways to get money. You meet a charming woman who convinces you to join her friends, that they could use your skills and knowledge. Now, you’re in a gang, one of the many in this god forsaken city.

You fight, you shoot, you kill, and you get money. You live in more comfort as a criminal than you’ve had in your whole life. You’ve broken your promise and don’t regret it. It’s as if it's always meant to be. You finally feel like you’re in charge of your life.

Hyunjae fades from your mind. You’re not sure if you ever fade from his.

Gang wars are all too familiar to you, and the strategy involved in conducting them is as well, now that you have become the leader. You like the new found power, your members depending on you, your success in proving yourself over and over again as the boss.

One gang in particular has been tormenting you for the past few years. They have been picking off your members, stealing your business, moving into your territory. You’d decided enough was enough and engaged them. It takes place as gunfights through back alleys in the middle of the night.

You decided to join in this time on the dirty work of fighting. The new enemy seems capable and more threatening than the others. Besides, as leader, you’ve been tucked away in the safety of your headquarters, sending orders from there. You haven't had a good gun fight in a while.

Right now, you’re hidden behind a building, shooting at shapeless figures in the dark. You know you have more numbers, superior guns and skills, when you begin pushing them back, cornering them, suffocating them. Victory is close and soon you will be queen of these lands once again.

Then, you hear a voice, your subordinate shouting something at the same time a shapeless figure melts from the shadows and darts across the street.

“That’s their leader!”

Oh, you are not one to miss out on this opportunity, of taking out this leader, of ruling both groups, both territories. So, you tear yourself from out of the shadows and sprint after the figure.

Your members call out after you but you ignore them. Your group is winning. Their leader is making a last ditch effort to escape. There is nothing to worry about.

You chase the figure into a darkened alley that stops abruptly at a dead end with one dim streetlight. You corner him, gun raised, and watch the male turn around.

“What kind of coward leader runs from a fight?”

He freezes, as if something has seized and taken hold of his entire body. Then, he steps into the light. A shock runs through you. Your eyes widen, and the gun almost slips from your grip.

“Y/n?”

His voice floats to your ears. Yes, it’s familiar, one you’ve memorized, but it’s deeper now. You can hardly overcome your shock as men appear behind you with guns pointed at your head. It was a trap. 

“Stop!” Hyunjae orders, shock and concern taking over his features, ones you’ve known since childhood. “We’re taking her with us.”

...

Your feet hurt from pacing the room, but you don’t stop. You hear an exasperated sigh from off to the side.

“Are you going to sit down and talk?” Hyunjae asks. He is seated at a table, a spare chair beside him. Your eyes run over him briefly. 

He’s older, much older. He’s grown half a foot since you saw him last. His body is bigger, toned from fighting. He has the same eyes, though - young looking and twinkling- and the same smell, something that makes your stomach wrench.

You continue to pace, glancing at the window, the air vent, the door- anything that can let you escape.

“Y/n.”

Your eyes snap to him. “No. I’m not going to sit down and have a talk. Especially not with you,” you spit out.

He blinks. “What do you mean, especially not with me?”

You don't respond. He stands up abruptly, and without thinking, you grab the knife from where they never found it when they searched you.

He freezes at the sight. His hand curls around the gun in his holster. “Don’t be stupid, Y/n. There are men right outside those doors. One word from me and they’ll barge in and kill you.”

“Then why don’t they?” You yell.

“Why are u so angry!?” He snarls, finally showing his anger. “This is the first time I’ve seen you in years! What did I-“

“What did you do? I thought I left you in that orphanage years ago and now I find out that you’re the head of the gang that keeps invading our rightful territory? That it was on your orders that my members were killed for years? That I was almost killed!?”

Something flits across his eyes.

“Yeah I know,” you sneer, “how ironic is it that you were my knight in shining armor back then and now you’ve been trying to kill me for years.”

He exhales, holding his hand up in a placating gesture. “Y/n, I didn't know.”

“And what about those dreams you had, huh? About being a doctor? Something good? You promised you’d not fall into this scene and yet you ended up here anyway!”

His face is hard. “We both made that promise.”

You falter, glaring at him. “I was always the less promising one out of us two.”

He steps forward. “That’s not true.”

You purse your lips. “Are you going to kill me now?”

He stops, looking hurt. “Of course not.”

“Why not? I’m the enemy leader.”

He looks exasperated. “Y/n-“ he reaches for you but you step away. His hand falls from the air.

The silence is deafening and you grip your knife. “I should kill you. I will be better for it.”

Hyunjae sighs, running his hand through his hair . “Don’t be stupid. The guards outside-“

“I can take them.” You say with full confidence. He seems surprised. He looks at the anger, the hurt in your eyes, then down at the knife, in your experienced grip. “I’m going to kill you,” you say again, almost as an effort to convince yourself.

Some light kindles in his eyes, a look of interest, curiosity. Maybe he’s caught onto your bluff.

He raises a brow. “Really?”

You blink and nod. He steps closer, so close you’re just inches away, until you can see the deep brown of his twinkling eyes, the scent of him that takes you back years. He grips your hand holding the knife and presses it against his chest, right over his heart. His gaze is intense.

“Then do it.”

You stutter. “I- I will do it…”

His eyes aren’t wavering from yours. He imperceptibly presses the knife harder against his chest. Your hands are shaking, and you make no move to pierce him. He realizes this. Without taking his eyes off of yours, he gently pulls your wrist away from his chest. With a simple twist, the knife clatters to the floor. Now, you’re both looking at each other, silence flooding the room.

His eyes never break their lock on yours except for one flicker down to your lips and back. Then, he moves so slowly, head tilting, lips nearly brushing yours to kiss you. You can barely get a hold of yourself to jerk away.

“What- what are you doing!?” You breathe hard, stepping back.

He grasps your elbow and pulls you back. His eyes soften, hand coming up to run across your face. “Please, I … just missed you...so much” His voice is shaky, a rare break in character from the short amount of time you’ve seen him recently, eyes vulnerable instead of cold steel.

“I have to kill you.” Your voice cracks. “After all those years of fighting-“

“But you can’t,” he speaks, eyes drinking you in. “Because you feel something for me like I do for you, even after all this time. And in the middle of this war and senseless violence, can’t we just have this?”

You freeze. “You feel what for me?”

He catches on. Something soft floods his eyes, his thumb stroking your cheek. You would have torn away if not for the ridiculous amount of comfort it brings you.

“Is that why you are so angry?” He chuckles, letting his hand slip from your cheek before releasing a defeated sigh. “I should have told you I was in love with you before you left.”

You still. He rubs the nape of his neck.

“When you left, I … I lost it.” Hyunjae’s voice cracked. “I was angry for the longest time. I resented you for leaving. I resented myself for not trying harder to make you stay, for not telling you the truth when you asked me how I felt.” He paced. “You.. called me a good person. Then I lost you and I threw away everything about myself that was good. I got into drugs… crime. Now I’m here.” He glanced at you. “I never thought you’d be here too.”

You silently digest his words, feeling the knot in your stomach loosen.

He steps closer and takes your hand.  “I couldn’t sleep at night for years. I constantly wondered if you were in danger.”

“I don’t need you to protect me anymore,” you whisper.

“No,” he gazes at you, talking almost to himself. “No, you don’t.” He drops your hand and sighs. “I can see I’ve hurt you too much, back then and even now, to earn your forgiveness.”

Silence hangs heavy. The entrenched hurt in your heart lightens. Of course he’d been hurting all this time too. But your throat is too heavy to form any words in response.

“So, what do we do now?” You ask hoarsely.

He’s silent, eyes going from you to the door. “I can’t take you back to my members. They’ll have you tortured and killed immediately, and there’s no way in hell I would let that happen.”

You make a show of rolling your eyes. Of course, he protects you, even now.

Hyunjae paces across the floor, stroking his chin. He stops by the table and looks up at the air vent in the ceiling. He turns around, eyes determined.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do. We have to fake a struggle. Give me a few bruises. I’ll lock the door so the guards can’t get in immediately. Then, you climb up through the vent and make you way out of the building. Hopefully they won’t catch up.”

You can’t help giving a small smile. “Hopefully?”

He nods, eyes softening for a brief moment. Suddenly, he presses forward and kisses you deeply. A shock of butterflies bursts through your stomach, fluttering up and up to your chest. You barely process his soft lips, his calloused hands on your cheeks, the fringes of his hair tickling your forehead. Your mind turns to mush before he pulls away. He looks at you softly as he releases you. Then, he punches you in the shoulder, hard.

“Ow!” You reel back.

He smirks. “Where do you think you’re going?” He calls out loudly, much louder than is needed.

You catch on. “I’m leaving!” You yell just as loud and shove him hard towards the door. He grins approvingly at your play and spins around to lock the door. Someone pounds on the wood from the other side.

“Sir!? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he calls. “I just have a difficult prisoner, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Something playful flares in his eyes as he nearly tackles you. You stumble violently for a moment, his large arms wrapped around yours to pin you in place. You try to wrestle out of his grip but he manages to hold your arms tight around you so you can’t move, giving you the odd sensation of being in a straitjacket.

“No, let me go! I’ll--” you pause, glaring at him. “I’ll headbutt you, I swear.”

He smirks. “Then headbutt me.”

You pause for a second and then you swing your head into his cranium. His head jolts backwards and his arms release you to grip his throbbing head.

“What the hell- you actually did it!?”

You snicker at him before the sound of pounding resounds throughout the room.

“Sir, the door isn’t opening! We’re going to break in!”

Hyunjae whirls around to face you, gesturing you to go up the vent. “Alright, hurry up!” He yells to guards.

You step onto the table and reach up onto your tiptoes to remove the covering. With one last look at Hyunjae, who’s face seems to be a mess of regret, affection, longing, and panic, you muster out a “see you later,” before disappearing through the hole.

...

Hyunjae knows he is seen as a cold leader. Like he said, once he lost you, he lost everything about himself that was good.

He killed. He punished. He executed.

He would beat a man for looking at him the wrong way. Give brutal tests of loyalty to his subordinates. Make it so that they quake when he walks into the room.

It was to maintain order, dignity, balance.

No one can defeat him at a mental game. No one can make him falter, doubt, outsmart him, move him. No one. That’s how he climbed the ranks and became the boss.

That is, until now. Fifteen minutes in that room with you and his mind has turned to mush. You’ve grown up, more beautiful than you were before, and it utterly stopped his heart. Your smiles, enough to make his knees buckle. Oh, how he wanted to take you in his arms, like he’s imagined for years, to hold you, hug you, kiss you, never let you go.

Of course he couldn't do that. The universe is not that kind. He got in one kiss - just because he desperately needed to know how you felt - and you melting into him was all the answer he needed. But then he had to say goodbye to you far too fast.

Now, the guards have burst into the room, searching feverishly for you who’s long disappeared. He mentions that you used the air vent to escape and leaves through the door. He knows they can never catch up to you in time - you’re far too good.

That sad, insecure girl he knew from his past seems to have changed. You’re a leader of a gang now, the one he’s been fighting and struggling to outsmart for years. If he had known it was you all along, how quickly he would have stolen you away from the fighting and left to live somewhere far away, somewhere peaceful. He would abandon his members, everything he built after all these years in a heartbeat for you. It was never even a question.

But he barely knows if you want the same thing. All that he knows now is that he has to see you again.

He thinks about these things, mind rumbling and turning, as he walks briskly to his meeting. His head still pounds from your headbutt and he catches himself smiling at the thought of it. It’s one ache he doesn’t mind.

He enters the room filled with high ranking members. They wait patiently for him to take his seat at the head of the table.

“So? Any updates?” He asks.

One guard steps forward, the same one that had been searching for you. “Sir, we couldn’t find her. I believe she escaped.”

Internally relieved and unsurprised, he outwardly slams his fist on the table, making everyone jump.

“Damn! Do you know how valuable she would have been alive? The information we could have gotten out of her?” He glares. “And how much of a mess they would have been without their leader?”

The guard ducks his head. “Yes sir. Sorry.”

Another man leans forward in his chair, Juyeon, his close, right hand man. “But we found intel on their next plans. They are raiding the HQ of a much smaller group, If we meet them there, we can catch them by surprise, and take their leader out.”

Hyunjae doesn’t know how to feel. On one hand, he’ll see you again. On the other, you’ll be in danger.

A grunt leaning by a wall says, “I hope we take her out. That bitch deserves that and worse. If I-”

Before he can finish, Hyunjae has him shoved roughly against the wall. His shirt is clutched in Hyunjae’s fist and a knife pressed to his neck. Hyunjae barely registers his rage, the look of fear and shock from everyone around the room, from the man in his grip. His eyes are eyes wide, looking at Hyunjae for an explanation.

Hyunjae rolls with his show. “Less talking. More doing. Talk after you bring her to me. She’s already escaped once from us.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” he sputters out.

Hyunjae releases him from and glares at the room. “We’re done here.”

...

I should have told you I was in love with you before you left.

Those words echo through your mind nonstop, refusing to give you any mercy. And even worse is the memory of the kiss - of his lips pressed against yours, his hands on your skin, his smell - you secretly wish that moment had lasted forever. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again, and your heart aches in response.

Then, you rip yourself from your thoughts.

“Ugh!” You yell, slamming your gun onto the table. You’ve tried to assemble it for what seemed like the 50th time in the past ten minutes but your thoughts keep distracting you.

“Y/n?” Your subordinate, Younghoon’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “We’re ready to leave.”

You finally manage to click the gun in place. With one last order to your mind to let go of useless thinking, you stand and slip your gun into the holster.  “Let’s go.”

The place you’ve decided to raid has many resources like valuable drugs and money, all hoarded by a smaller group that you can beat out easily. You surprise them, your members jumping out of cars and invading in from all openings of the derelict headquarters.

There’s shouting, scrambling, and finally gunfire. You know this mission will be easy enough - the other group does not have enough people to defend their resources. This will be over before you know it.

At least, that’s what you thought until you spot strange black vans pulling up to the curve outside, men jumping out in large numbers to join the fight. They immediately engage your members with gunfire. You panic, unable to understand what is happening before you catch sight of Hyunjae exiting a van and tucking himself behind the building entrance for shelter against the bullets. He catches your gaze and a number of different emotions pass by his face. He settles on a hesitant smile.

Confusion, then anger rips through you. So much for all those sweet words he spoke yesterday. He’s still fighting you, still trying to kill your members, still prolonging this war. If he wants it that way, then that’s what you’ll give him.

You step out and begin shooting. Chaos seems to erupt with two sizable forces fighting each other inside one building. You can tell that you will not win without a large loss of life.

“Just find whatever you can and go!” You bark at your subordinates. They scramble to obey your orders, grabbing suitcases and locked chests in between the shooting.

Before long, you’re calling them all back from the scene, ordering their retreat. They scramble into the cars you came in. You glance back to see Hyunjae’s men lowering their guns, glancing at him for their next orders - whether to pursue or retreat. However, his gaze is only fixed on you.

Then, he makes a break for it. He runs directly after you without a second glance, without a word to the rest of his group, leaving them stunned in confusion. You would’ve had half a mind to guess that he means to kill you, if it isn’t for the slightly sad expression on his face.

One of your girls steps forward to aim her gun at him. A shock of fear runs through you. “Wait! Stop! Don’t kill him!”

With wide eyes, she obeys and resorts to landing a good punch on Hyunjae’s cheek that sends him tumbling to the ground. Shouts ring out in the air and you see that his members are now running after you.

“Get him into the car! Hurry!”

They do as you order. Soon enough, the party of cars is driving off with Hyunjae’s men trailing behind on foot. They eventually stop and run back into their vans. A car chase ensues through the streets but your smaller cars outrun their bigger vans within minutes. You’re left speeding through the night with a slightly unconscious, groaning Hyunjae in your lap in the backseat.

...

“Does it hurt?”

Hyunjae peers up at you under the dim lighting of your room. You inspect the nasty cut on his cheek, one caused by the punch that took him out.

“I’ve dealt with a lot worse,” he replies, expression unreadable. “Funny how we’re back in the same situation, except...the other way around.”

You know what he means. Last time, you were captured and held in his room as a prisoner. Now, he’s yours, except he came willingly.

You sigh, pouring a bit of rubbing alcohol onto a clean rag. You press it to his cheek and he winces slightly.

“Why did you run after me?” You ask, patting down his skin.

He sighs, eyes running over your face. “Because I wanted to see you.”

You ignore how your stomach flips. “But you left all your men behind, people who depended on you.”

He shrugs.

You scoff, shaking your head as you step back. “You planned that entire raid just to see me? Don’t you care about them? Right now, they’re thinking you’ve gotten captured but really, you ran away.”

“Y/n, I became involved in this filthy life because I had nothing left after I lost you. But now, I found you and…” he trails off, large brown eyes falling on yours. “There’s something more now.”

Your heart thrums but you maintain a frown. “So that’s it? You’d just leave?”

He blinks slowly and smiles. “Yeah. That’s it.”

You carefully place a square piece of gauze on his wound and tape it down. You almost miss his smile, his eyes filled with softness and stars as they gaze at you.

“What is it now?”

He smiles. “Isn’t this familiar?”

You have flashes of memories - cleaning his wounds in the orphanage after he got himself in a fight over your honor.

“Don’t get used to it,” you mutter, tossing a few wrappers in the trash. You move to step away but he’s suddenly standing up, hand shooting out to grip your arm.

“Y/n-“

“Should I remind you that you’re the prisoner in here?” You glare.

His brows are knitted, face forlorn. “You act like you hate me but you don’t really.”

“Oh, I don’t?”

“No, you don’t.” He levels his gaze with you. “You told your gunman not to kill me. You cleaned and dressed my wounds. You kissed me like you’re in love with me-“

“That’s enough,” you growl, tugging harshly away from his grip but he holds onto you tightly.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you I loved you back then,” he says again, and again it flips and cleaves and destroys your heart. His eyes are full of regret. “Maybe you would have stayed.”

He searches your face for something that you’re hesitant and unwilling to give him. Something seems to fade from his eyes as he slowly releases you.

“Or maybe you wouldn’t have.” The smile falls from his lips. “Maybe it was meant to be this way.” He sits back down on your bed. “And maybe I truly was an idiot for getting myself captured by people who want me dead.”

You study his features, twisted in defeat. He’s always been so dependent on your moods, your signs, the words you say to him. He can be emboldened by your subtle signals and just as easily defeated by your rejections. Your heart flips again and you curse it. He really did love you, then and now.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you sigh, earning his attention. “I hated being a burden on you, regardless of... if you loved me or not.”

He gazes at you in such pure confusion that you look away. “Y/n, you were never a burden.”

You feel the sting of tears, a lump forming in your throat. He stands up slowly, steps close to you.

“You were my family-“ he begins.

“You were my family too but you kept getting hurt, kept suffering because of someone so useless as me,” your voice cracks.

His heart seems to break, you can see so in his eyes. He reaches for you tentatively, and you don’t pull away this time. He places a gentle hand on your cheek, gazing deep into your eyes, taking hold of your heart.

“You were never a burden. Never. All those things I did because I loved you,” he says softly. “You could never be a burden.”

Something shatters in your chest and you surge forward to kiss him, tears rolling down your face. He embraces you, eagerly welcomes the kiss, grasps your cheeks as if you are the most precious thing ever.

The kiss is desperate - a release of more than a decade’s worth of repressed love. You’re hypersensitive to the feeling of his lips, his tongue brushing against yours, the deep groans resounding from his chest as you melt in his arms.

“Y/n,” he groans, holding your waist in a tight grip as you pull away, panting for air. His lips attach to your throat, leaving open mouth kisses down the column. Your breaths stutter, fingers curling into his hair. A nip of your skin by his teeth has a light moan slipping past your lips.

He pulls back to gaze at you with an expression you’ve never seen before. His irises swirl with affection mixed with want.

“I- Do you want-“ he manages out, drinking in your gaze, but unable to finish his question.

You swallow thickly, mind racing. Your body is burning with need and longing for him, after so many years. You can only manage out a nod. He presses his forehead against yours.

“I need you to say it.”

You let out a shaky exhale. “I want you.”

He seems to revel in those words before swooping in to kiss you, somehow even more desperate this time. He pulls you gently towards the bed, littering kisses on your lips with breathless words in between.

“Tell me any time if you want to stop, alright?”

You nod. “Okay.”

His eyes twinkle before he kisses you again. You fall back against the sheets. His fingers flit down across your shirt and your pants, stopping to unbutton them. You kick them away impatiently and tug your shirt over your head.

He stares at your semi nude form in awe. He slowly places his hands on the skin of your waist, feeling your skin underneath his fingers.

“Have you had sex before, Hyunjae?” You chuckle.

“You have no idea how long I imagined this,” he whispers, eyes finding yours. “But you’re more beautiful than anything my brain could conjure up.”

Your cheeks burn at the cheesiness but your heart thrums all the same. Then, your mouth goes dry as he reaches and pulls his shirt over his head.

Inch by inch, the deep black ink of tattoos curling across his skin are revealed. His muscles ripple with movement and settle again once he’s cast his shirt away. He gazes at you in anticipation.

You find your voice. “You got tattoos.”

He smiles. “You like them?”

He takes your hand and places it on his stomach. You swallow hard, finger tracing one line of onyx ink. “W-Why would you care if I like them?”

He chuckles. “I care what you like.” He grips your hand softly, entangling his fingers with yours.

You glance at him. “Are you sure you’re a gang leader?”

He smiles and tugs you forward, humming as he kisses you. “You know, you look really hot when you hold a gun.”

You chuckle as his arms wrap around you. “Really?”

“Yeah,” kisses down your throat, hot and open mouthed. “I lost my mind the first time I saw you standing tall, directing orders, shooting.”

You gasp as he grips your ass harshly and sinks his teeth into the skin of your neck at the same time. “I wanted you then and there.”

You can’t respond, your mind slowly descending into the depths of incoherency. He presses you flat against the bed, and leans over you, hips rolling deep against yours. Gasps and moans fall from your lips as he watches, mesmerized.

“I always wanted to hear your moans,” he says breathily, grinding against you. “God, how many nights I’d spend just thinking of you.”

“Hyunjae,” you gasp, grabbing his hips. “You can tone down the love sick puppy-ness.”

He chuckles, a deep low sound that sends tingles straight to your core. “But I can’t help it.” He places a kiss below your heart, trailing down your stomach and your navel, settling between your thighs. “I love you. I have always loved you.”

Warmth floods your chest as you gaze down at him, at his eyes that are filled with affection and the stars of the universe. Then he presses a kiss to your clothed mound and all your thoughts are shattering.

He hooks his fingers under your underwear and drags them down. You shift to sit up on your elbows. “Y-You don’t have to-“

He cuts you off with a disbelieving laugh. “I have waited and imagined every detail of this for years. I can’t not.” He peers up at you. “Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”

You swallow thickly. “N-No. I want to.”

His lips curl into a smile. “Good.”

He removes your underwear, and spreads your thighs around his shoulders. His hot breath meets your core and you release a shaky breath. He gives you one last, heated look, before he’s dragging his tongue across your center, stopping at your clit.

You throw your head back and moan. The sound spurs him on. His hands grip your thighs harder, tongue dipping into your entrance and stealing your sanity. Your ragged breaths turn into gasps and moans, and you involuntarily buck your hips against his face.

He holds you down firmly against the mattress, the muscles in his forearm flexing around your thighs. His eyes burn into yours as another stroke of his tongue sends you reeling.

“H-Hyun,” you gasp out. His eyelids flutter at the sound of his name. He groans into you, shaking you to the core, continuing his ministrations.

You lose your mind slowly. Every movement of his tongue sends you to another dimension. When he pushes a finger inside, you shake and clench and cry out, gasping harshly as he pumps his fingers. He releases a shaky breath against your core when you arch at another finger. A cry and moan crawl up your throat and spill into the air. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug harshly, earning another deep moan from him.

Your mind is descending. He’s kept a slow place so far but is speeding up. Your moans pitch high and the knot in your stomach grows tighter. Just when you’re about to crash, whirl, die and be reborn, everything stops.

His fingers are gone, mouth is gone, his warmth and it's all cold. Your eyelids slip open to find him, kneeling before you, eyes dark, hands tense, slightly shaking. You want to ask why, why he stopped, why he looks as if he’s been wound so tight that he’ll snap.

He wipes his mouth absently, makes the pit of your stomach whirr. He fixes his dark eyes on you.

“I need…” his voice is hoarse. “I need you on top of me, I need to feel you around me.”

You swallow dryly and sit up. A push of his shoulder to the side and he’s rolling onto the bed, head settling upon the pillow. You straddle him easily, as if you belong there. He’s splayed out underneath you, every inch of his skin in reach, every ribbon of muscle, and every inky curl and dip of tattoos across his body, all for you.

You place a hand on his chest, feel him release a sigh and watch your hand dip with his skin with the movement. He is hard underneath you, and you can feel him getting harder.

“So this is how you’ve always imagined it?” You ask, trailing your hand down his skin, under his navel, to stop at his pants button, watching him shudder.

“Yes,” he breathes, eyes closed. You unbutton him, peel his pants off and provide him with some degree of relief. You straddle him again and lean forward to kiss him deeply. He sinks into the kiss, sighs when you move to kiss down his throat, and then trace his tattoos with your lips.

He reaches up to grip your waist. You stop.

“You can't touch.”

He gazes at you, wide eyed. He seems to want to protest but he swallows it and keeps his hands down.

You smile in victory. You hips rock and grind against him, watch him arch in pleasure. His fingers flex and clench the bedsheets beside him. His eyes are heady,  burning into yours, his jaw clenching.

“You’re not used to this, are you?” You ask softly, removing his boxers to feel his hardness in your hands. He makes a muffled sound, refusing to part his lips. “Having someone tell you what to do?” You ask, stroking him slowly, watching a storm of emotions pass his face. “And you can't say anything back?”

You lift your hips up and sink down on him in one movement. There is a pleasurable burn, but you are more focused on the way he tips his head back and groans, his eyelids clenching shut. His fingers twitch against the sheets, his veined arms straining to not touch you.

“And you’re listening so well,” you praise, feeling him stretch you. You release a shaky breath, swallowing a moan.

“Y/n,” he pants. You gasp as you start moving, slowly, almost too slowly at first. After all these years, you want to revel in the feel of him inside you. He releases a broken moan and thrusts up into you in desperation.

You still immediately. “No doing that, either.”

He groans and rolls his head to the side, gazing at you in need, in exasperation. But his hips stay still when you begin riding him again.

Your heart flutters at him listening to you, the head of a mob, who hasn't taken orders from anyone in a long, long time, turning to putty under your hips. You speed up , breaths turning harsh as you roll and bounce your hips against him.

He pants beneath you, a layer of sweat settling on his tattooed skin, his jaw clenching and sheets crumpled into his fists in an effort to hold back. You admire him, beautiful and unholy beneath you. As you palm your own breasts, you take in the sight of his lust filled, darkened eyes watching every movement you make, burning with need to touch you.

Suddenly, his hands are on your waist, gripping the skin as he thrusts up into you. Pleasure explodes from behind your eyelids as you cry out. Somehow, with all your willpower, you remove yourself completely from him. You straddle him further down his thighs, out of reach of his aching cock.

“Y/n,” he straight up whines. His arms reach for you, brows knitted, eyes pleading. “Please.”

Your resolve almost shatters, but you enjoy seeing him like this too much. You merely shake your head and he huffs, resigning himself.

“Will you behave?”

He seems to glare at the ceiling before nodding without a word. Something thrums in your heart. You settle over him and begin the process anew. You like this, seeing him under you, controlling the pace, making love to him. He groans again, and you lean forward to leave open mouthed kisses down his neck, biting the skin so it makes him shudder. Your hips speed up slightly, moaning into the air as his pants. His fingers strain and clench, his eyelids fluttered closed in concentration. You marvel at his self control.

You think of that too late when he thrusts into you once again. When you slow down, he grasps your sides and gives another thrust. You gasp and remove yourself from him but before your warmth can leave his dick completely, he’s rolling you over, flat on your back against the sheets. He harshly rolls his hips against yours.

“Hyun-“ you moan as he gives another thrust, his head tipping back. He picks up pace, hands roaming your body, his self restraint snapping. “I’ve waited for years,” he moans, leaning forward to litter kisses on your neck. “Please don’t make me wait anymore.”

With a bite of your skin, he’s speeding up his thrusts, sending you clawing at his back. He presses his forehead into yours, working his hips in wonders, has you seeing stars, relentlessly, until you cry out his name, clenching hard around him.

“Oh my god,” he groans at your walls milking him. He swallows your moans with his kisses, thrusts into you a few more times until he’s coming with you.

He collapses against you, one lazy arm propped upon the bed so as to not crush you. Your head is swimming, heart thrumming, feeling the tickle of his hair against your cheek as you catch your breath. Pleasure tingles throughout your entire body. He gives a breathless laugh, plants a kiss to your forehead and rolls away to lie on the sheets beside you.

It’s quiet for a heartbeat before he speaks. “Lets run away together.”

You chuckle, “we’re criminals, Hyunjae.”

“So?” he asks, facing you. His eyes are twinkling once again.

You find your words. “So, we can’t just go anywhere. We will always be wanted by the law. Besides, we should have thought of that before getting involved in this stuff.”

He releases a deep exhale. “You were always my dream, my guiding light, whatever I wanted in life. I just became involved in it because I lost you and I ended up here.”

You look at him, silently. “You never say it’s ‘because I left’, only ‘because you lost me,’.”

He blinks at you. “Because I did.” His hand entangles with your own. “I was too afraid to tell you I love you, and so I lost you.”

You squeeze his fingers. “I was… also too afraid to tell you, so I passed off the responsibility to you by asking that question.”

A smile slowly spreads across his lips. “So you’ve always loved me?”

You smile. “Yes, Hyunjae. I’ve always loved you.”

He scoops you into his arms and pulls you close. He litters kisses over every inch of your face, pulling giggles from your lips.

“So since we can’t run away, how about we call a truce between our… groups?”

“Deal.”

He holds out his pinky. You laugh at the old but familiar gesture. You interlace your pinky with his. “Okay, now, deal.”

He giggles, pressing a final kiss to your lips. “I guess you’ll have to let me go so I can convince them.” His brows furrow. “Hopefully they don’t find this place and charge in.” 

“Don’t worry. You haven’t found this place in years, what is one more day?” 

He smiles. “You always were smarter than me.” 

You roll your eyes playfully. “Do you think they can wait one more day, though?”

Hyunjae thinks on it. “I’ve waited for 8 years. I think they should’ve learned a thing or two from me.” 

[ghost-ghost-baby]

We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 5/5

pt 1 / pt 2/ pt 3/pt 4

omegaverse lore

lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

summary:  Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

a/n: FINALLY WE DID IT!!! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT ITS 4K WORDS!!!! ENJOY!!! general nsfw hcs will b posted at some point, gonna make a diff taglist for it tho so lemme know if u wanna b on it. Warnings: omegaverse, swearing, untraditional omegaverse roles, gets a bit spicy towards the end 

“Okay, so, we’re inviting Kirishima, Sero, Jirou, she’ll wanna bring her mate Yamomo, and Yamomo will wanna bring her bestie Shoto, of course.” you had no idea what Denki and Mina were going on about, you and Izuku were waiting in the park while Katsuki finished up an exam, and the pair had cornered you with plans for your party. Izuku had been extra clingy, he’d held your hand all the way to school, and then inched his seat closer to yours in class so he could keep touching you in any way possible, and now he was practically in your lap, arms possessively wrapped around your waist and his head on your shoulder. 

“Uh, okay, I wanna invite Shinso too, I know he’s Mr. Aizawas kid but he’s really nice, oh and Tokoyami, he might wanna bring Tsuyu-“ You were distracted, not that your friends noticed, by Izuku’s arms tightening around your waist, and you only realised he let out a growl because you felt it vibrate from his chest and into his throat. Your friends were still rambling, completely ignoring you and your mate, so you turned to Izuku with a questioning look. 

“You okay?”

“I don’t like the way Shinso looks at you, why are you inviting him?” Izuku pouted, and you shook your head, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

“Don’t be silly, now Izuku. I’m with you and Katsuki, I’m only inviting him so he can make more friends!” Your answer soothed your mate, although barely, he’d just have to stick to you like glue for the entire party. 

“Let’s go, c’mon.” Katsuki pulled Deku up by the back of his shirt, ignoring the omegas cry of protest to offer you a hand, gripping it tighter than usual and pulling you up, wrapping his arm around your waist as soon as you were standing, Izuku grumbling as he made his way to your other side. 

“Wow Bakubro- the exam was that bad, huh?” Denki’s question was only met with a growl from Katsuki, and you shushed him before you turned back to your friends. 

“Sorry guys but you heard the man! Text me if you need any help with the party but I already told you what I want!” You waved, Denki and Mina waving back from their place on the grass, and you heard them giggle as Katsuki pulled you away, the omegas scent much stronger than usual. 

You headed right for the shower when you got home, only stopping to grab a towel, with your mates hot on your heels.

“What’re- what’re you guys doing-?” You were about to start stripping when you noticed them standing in the door, Katsuki with a frown and his arms crossed, Izuku hanging off him with an expression you could only describe as eager. 

“You weren’t planning on leaving us, were you?” Izuku pouted, and for a moment you were too shocked to speak. 

“I’m just- I’m just having a shower?” You frowned at the pair, and Katsuki let out a growl at your response. 

“Why do you have to leave us for it though, we could shower together-“

“Katsuki! Absolutely not! The shower’s barely big enough for one person, no way the three of us are squeezing in there!” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest and staring down your mates. Katsuki was glowering at you, which you were used to, however, you were not used to Izuku’s puppy dog eyes, you never stood a chance against that. 

“Fucking fine- you can stay in the bathroom, but if you so much as touch the shower curtain I’m locking myself in my room and not coming out until tomorrow, got it?” 

“Yes alpha! Thank you!” Izuku flung himself at you, Katsuki joining less than a second later, at least they weren’t fucking growling at each other anymore. 

“I forgot clean clothes, would one of you be okay getting me some? I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.” You almost fell when they pulled away, you didn’t realise how much you’d been leaning on them, and Izuku was answering without hesitation. 

“I’ll grab you some of mine!” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he headed off, and Katsuki couldn’t help but let out a growl, quickly following Izuku’s kiss before he went after the other omega. 

“Like hell they’re just wearing your clothes!”

The solution was Katsuki’s hoodie, and a pair of Izuku’s shorts, brought to the bathroom in record time, and both omegas looked so proud of themselves for compromising you got distracted showering them in praise and kisses for a good five minutes. Your actual shower was uneventful, although the conversation with your mates made it fly by, and you still made them turn around when you got out to dry off and get changed. Then you were being bombarded with kisses from your mates, and coos of how cute you looked in their clothes had you blushing. Then they’d ushered you to the kitchen, and Katsuki wrapped your arms around him before he started cooking, even nodding at Izuku for him to join, although he ordered the other omega to get him ingredients. Izuku didn’t seem to mind though, and he pressed kisses to your cheeks and lips every chance he got, even daring to press a few daring kisses to Katsuki’s cheek, which merely got a huff instead of the growl it would have in the past. 

“You’ve been awfully good today, Kacchan.” You’d taken to calling Katsuki by the nickname, which still got a growl when you used it, but he was so cute when he got grumpy. He couldn’t help but let out a purr at the praise, it rumbled up through his chest and even Katsuki was shocked by how loud it was, he looked like a started cat, and you and Izuku couldn’t help but laugh, something you both got yelled at for. 

“Okay guys, I’m gonna turn in for the night.” You yawned, trying to get up but being stopped by Izuku’s arm around your waist. Your movement woke Katsuki up from the doze he’d fallen into after dinner, and his red eyes were sleepily blinking up at you from where his head rested on your lap. 

“Zuku? You okay…?” You shot your mate a questioning look, and Izuku bit his lower lip as he thought. 

“Yeah, shitty Deku, they wanna go to bed, so do I.” Katsuki was finally coherent, although he made no move to get up. 

“I wanna scent you first.” 

“Huh- you scented me right after dinner-?” You were confused, and Izuku’s request had Katsuki bolting up and wide awake. 

“Yeah but- I don’t know- y-your scent it’s- it’s stronger than- than normal and-and mine just keeps wearing off and- I don’t like it when you don’t- when you don’t smell like me.” Izuku was a blushing mess by the time he finished speaking, he always got that way when scenting came up, and you leant forward to kiss him before you spoke. 

“You can scent me as much as you want, but can you do it in bed?” Your question had Izuku’s face going even redder, and the omega was too flustered to speak, which had Katsuki cackling. 

“You broke him, Y/n! Apparently scenting in bed is too scandalous for sweet little Deku.” He grinned at Izuku before turning to you, “However, I have no problem scenting you in bed, he’s right about your scent overpowering ours lately.” Katsuki finally sat up, stretching more than he needed to in order to wack Izuku over the head. 

“It’s not- not too scandalous-! Y/n, tell Kacchan to stop being mean!” Izuku whined, cuddling close to your side to rest his head on your shoulder and glaring at your other mate. 

“Oi! Don’t bring them into this!” Katsuki growled, and Izuku only smirked, maintaining eye contact with the blonde as he leant forward to bite your neck, hard enough it had you yelping and Katsuki snarling as he pulled you to him. 

“Hey- guys- what happened to- oh…” You trailed off when Katsuki started kissing from your collar up to your jaw, the blonde smirking at Izuku when you melted against him. 

“That’s so not fair-!” Izuku followed, crawling forward until he was basically on your lap and you were trapped between the two of them, with their scents almost overwhelming you. “Y/n, look at me!” You didn’t even realise you’d closed your eyes until Izuku was whining and grabbing your face, green eyes darting to Katsuki still mouthing at your neck before he leant forward and forced his lips to yours, your eyes once again fluttering closed as you reached up to wrap your arms around Izuku’s neck. His lips were always so soft, and he kissed you like you were the only thing keeping him sane. You were brought back to the present when Katsuki bit down right above your scent gland, the pain and the placement clearing your head enough that you could push Izuku off and stagger to your feet, wiping your mouth as you tried to regain control of your breathing. 

“B-Bed, guys-“ your head was still foggy, and you shook it to try and clear the haze. It worked, partially, but once it was gone you were so, so tired, you were ready to collapse. 

“Look what you did Kacchan- you ruined all the fun.” Izuku pouted, but he was rushing to your side without hesitation, wrapping your arm around him so you had someone to lean on, Katsuki only huffing and joining the two of you a moment later, shoving himself under your arm on your free side. 

“If both of you shut the fuck up and take me to bed I’ll still let you scent me, but don’t push it.” You growled before Katsuki could say anything, and both omegas shut right up at your words, bowing their heads as they practically carried you to your room.

You hit the bed with a relieved sigh, already closing your eyes before Katsuki cleared his throat, and you opened one eye to look at him, a moment passing before you realised why both your mates were just standing there staring at you. 

“Oh, right, sorry!” You pushed yourself back up, automatically baring your neck and almost giving your mates an aneurism at the sight of you. Katsuki all but jumped on you in his eagerness, quickly smothering your startled noises with a kiss before he rubbed his wrist on his own neck and then rubbed his wrist over almost every inch of you, until you were completely covered in the smell of caramel. 

“Don’t hog them!” Izuku was next to you just as Katsuki finished, and he shoved Katsuki out of the way so he could proceed to scent you too, although he chose to rub his scent gland directly over yours first, and you almost pulled back with a yelp from how intense it was. You somehow held it together until Izuku was satisfied that his and Katsuki’s scents were even, although the omega took over ten minutes, thankfully for most of it he was doing the same as Katsuki, but your eyes were still drooping closed by the end, and you would have fallen back if Katsuki hadn’t moved behind you to help prop you up, his arms wrapped low around your waist. 

“Are you almost done, Deku? They’re practically asleep in my lap.” You could hear the smirk in his voice even if you couldn’t see him, and Izuku only huffed in response, although his eyes softened when you offered him a sleepy half smile. You looked so sweet, eyes lidded and face flushed, was this what you’d look like when- 

“Oi! I asked you a question.” Katsuki leant forward to shove Izuku, and  that snapped the omega out of his… more unsavoury thoughts. 

“Sorry Kacchan! Y/n’s just so cute when they’re all soft and pliable like this, I got distracted!” Izuku grinned, quickly leaning forward to kiss you before Katsuki could yell, and you did your best to kiss your mate back despite your half asleep state. You didn’t want to pull away, but Katsuki didn’t have an issue breaking the two of you up, something you were thankful for, in that moment at least. 

“Enough getting distracted, they need sleep.” The blonde manoeuvred you so you were laying down facing him, and Izuku let out a huff as he followed suit, mumbling something about how Kacchan always ruined his fun. You shushed both of them before Katsuki could reply, tugging the blonde closer for a kiss to stop him grumbling, then you were grabbing Izuku’s hands, pressing your head to Katsuki’s chest, and finally falling asleep. 

You woke up covered in sweat, the hoodie you’d worn to bed now feeling like it was suffocating you combined with the heat your mates gave off, and you gently slipped out of bed, throwing the hoodie off and letting out a sigh of relief when you were just in a tank top. You still had twenty minutes before you needed to get up, and you turned to wake your mates, only to slap a hand over your mouth to stop yourself squeaking. Neither of them had woken up despite you moving, but Izuku must have moved closer to Katsuki in his sleep, and the two of them were cuddling, with Izuku’s head nestled against Katsuki’s chest. You quickly grabbed your phone, making sure it was on silent mode, before you proceeded to take a rather excessive amount of pictures of your mates. Then, still being as quiet as you could, you made your way out of the room and into the kitchen. You made yourself a coffee and a bowl of cereal, taking a seat at the counter before you opened your messages, quickly finding the group chat with Mina and Denki, and sending through one of the pictures. The response was instant, Mina going into all caps to scream about how cute it was, and Denki sent through a spam of keyboard smashes, also in all caps. You kept chatting to them while you finished your breakfast, but a yell from your room had you texting them goodbye and putting your phone down. Any minute now. 

“Get the fuck away from me, Deku!” 

“I was asleep, Kacchan, it wasn’t my fault! You’re the one that did this to me!”

“I thought you were Y/n, stop following me!” 

“I’m not following you, I’m trying to find-“ 

“Y/n!” 

“Y/n! Kacchan is being mean again!” Your mates turned the corner into the kitchen, Izuku sprinting to your side, and your eyes widened at the mark on his neck. 

“Damn, what happened?” Izuku wrapped his arms around your waist, whining until you bared your neck for him so he could rub his cheek over your scent gland. 

“I was just sleeping, alpha! And then Kacchan bit me!” Izuku whined against your neck, and you cooed as you reached up to play with his hair, calmly brushing through the curls and turning your gaze to Katsuki with raised eyebrows. At least the blonde looked sheepish, and he reached up to scratch the back of his neck before he answered you. 

“You’re usually the one in front of me, how the fuck was I supposed to know it was shitty Deku. When did you even leave, huh? You’re meant to wake me up.” Katsuki growled, and you sighed and shook your head, he really couldn’t take the blame for anything, huh? Still, you gestured for him to join the hug, which he happily did, and you pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“I know you were expecting me, Katsuki, but you really uh- gave Izuku a shock, can you apologise? For me?” You cooed, only getting a growl in response, so you pulled away with a sigh, Izuku whining in protest at the loss of contact. 

“Katsuki-“

“Fine. Sorry for biting you, Deku, even though it was your fault for cuddling me.” The blonde growled, but you weren’t going to get any better, and Izuku seemed happy enough,  by the way he was hugging Katsuki. 

“See, there we go! Izuku and I gotta get ready for class now!” Your words had both of them turning to you with a growl, and you could only look at them in confusion. 

“We’re not going to class today, Y/n.” Izuku pulled away from Katsuki to look at you, and you were cut off before you could ask why. 

“Yeah, your birthday’s tomorrow and you fucking reek, no way you’re leaving the apartment.” Katsuki crossed his arms over his chest, and you grabbed your phone with a rather dramatic sigh. 

“Fine, guess I’m stuck here with you idiots.”

You’d gotten yelled at for that remark, and Katsuki was still sulking when he pulled away to go and shower, Izuku tugging you to the couch the second Katsuki was out of view. 

“You still wanna scent me? We’re not leaving the house-“ Izuku kissed you to cut you off, and all thoughts went out the window as you kissed him back, letting him lay you down on the couch and pin you under him with his weight. Your head tilted back when Izuku pulled away to kiss down your jaw and neck, your hands automatically tangling in his hair to tug him closer, and Izuku let out a whine that had your scent going haywire. He kept going down, peppering kisses and sucking marks over your collarbone before he moved to your chest, and you briefly wondered where he was going with this, but then Izuku was lifting your shirt up for better access. He stayed at your chest for a few more minutes before he continued, pressing kisses to your ribs and stomach, and your heart was in your throat as he reached your hip, but then the omega just, stopped, resting his head on your hip and just gazing at you from between your thighs. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re all hot and bothered like this, alpha! Are you disappointed that I stopped?” Izuku chirped, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, and you were quickly grabbing a pillow to cover your rapidly growing blush, while Izuku just looked at you and giggled. 

“Kacchan! Pass that shirt to me when you’re done!” Izuku was seated on the bed, casually scenting anything Katsuki had scented and thrown his way, as if this was the most normal occurrence ever. And it almost was, except for the fact you were stuck in the middle of the bed, getting growled at if you so much as shifted your position. They wanted to ‘build the nest around you’ apparently, which was something you’d never heard of, but you weren’t going to argue with your birthday a mere day away, Katsuki and Izuku had been… on edge lately. 

“Arms please!” Izuku’s chirp broke you out of your thoughts, and you hesitantly held out your arms, although you got the message when Izuku leaned back against you, and you were wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder without a second thought. A shirt was hitting you in the face seconds later, and you yelped at the impact, throwing the shirt right back at Katsuki. 

“What was that for!” He snarled, throwing the shirt back at you and huffing when Izuku caught it, although both of your moods improved when he let out a happy hum and proceeded to scent the material before gently folding it and placing it on the bed. You couldn’t resist sticking your tongue out at Katsuki from where you were stuck behind Izuku and the blonde only grumbled as he got back to grabbing bedding from the cupboard you had especially for when he nested. He was… more subdued, than normal. He didn’t growl when Izuku kissed him, and you’d actually caught them cuddling on the couch when you came back from the shower. The lack of bickering was a breath of fresh air, and you couldn’t resist pulling Katsuki in for a kiss when he came to dump more material on the bed. He let out a grunt when you tugged him down, the blonde almost falling on the bed, his arms going either side of of Izuku, who took the opportunity to kiss whatever part of Katsuki’s neck he could. You were the one that had to push him away, and Katsuki growled at you when he lost contact, which caused you to flick his forehead and click your tongue, but Katsuki just pouted and got back to scenting the fabric. See what you meant? You’d be worried if his scent wasn’t so… content. 

Movement next to you woke you up, and Katsuki came into focus above you as you blinked away the sleep. 

“Good, you’re awake.” The blonde nuzzled into your neck and you tilted your head to the side for him, sleep still heavily clouding your mind so you couldn’t made sense of anything. 

“Why am- why am I awake…?” You mumbled, too tired to stop yourself letting out a little moan when Katsuki pressed a kiss to your neck, and you felt him smirk against your skin. 

“Your rut’s started, dumbass.” 

“Mmmm? I don’t feel… any different… just kinda hot…. You smell really, really good, Katsuki…” Your hands went to his hips, and Katsuki let out an exasperated sigh, resting his forehead on the pillow next to you before he answered. 

“God you’re so fucking stupid, that’s my heat, idiot, it woke me up. Deku’s started too but he’s still asleep, so I thought I’d wake you up now, I want to get something straight, okay alpha?” He went back to kissing your neck between words, and you only hummed in response, nodding as your eyes fluttered closed. 

“Good, now listen, okay? I was here first, I want to fuck you first, and I want to mark you first too, okay alpha?” His teeth grazed your skin and you whined, your fingers digging into the blondes hips, and you let out a whimper when he bit down, almost breaking the skin.

“Of course, Katsuki- you’ve been so good of course you can…” 

“Say it, I wanna hear you say it, alpha.” Katsuki pulled back, bracing his arms and caging you in so you couldn’t look anywhere but his face, and a blush spread over yours in response. 

“You can- you can fuck me first, Katsuki-“ you barely finished the sentence before he was kissing you, nipping your bottom lip before he pulled off, his breathing heavier than it was before. 

“Good, now, I guess we better wake shitty Deku up.”

The throbbing from both sides of your neck woke you up this time, and you groaned as you tried to move your neck, slowly coming around to your surroundings. You were on your back, with Katsuki’s head on your chest and Izuku’s on your stomach. When you finally sat up slightly, (you didn’t want to wake them) pride flashed through you at the site of the fresh bonding marks, and you couldn’t stop yourself letting out a happy purr.  Unfortunately, your back was killing you- so you gently shimmied out of bed, pulling the blankets back over the sleeping pair before you turned to the cupboard to get yourself a shirt. Fuck, your neck was still killing you, maybe icing it would help? You couldn’t help the pained hiss that escaped you when you pulled the shirt over your head, still knocking the bites despite your best efforts to be gentle. 

“Y/n…? What the fuck are you doing?” Katsuki rubbed his eyes as he sat up, his abrupt movement waking Izuku, who let out a huff at his sleep being interrupted. 

“Neck hurts, I was gonna try and ice it.” You looked at yourself in the mirror, no wonder you were in so much pain- 

Your neck and shoulders were littered with bites and hickies, some of them rivalling the bonding bites with how deep they were, you probably needed to do more than ice it. 

“Oh, right, Deku got carried away.” The blonde let out a groan as he stretched, and when you turned back to them you weren’t surprised to see Izuku pouting.

“You got just as carried away, Kacchan! Don’t try to blame it all on me!” Izuku hopped out of bed despite his half asleep state, shuffling to your side and pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he cuddled under your arms, possessively wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Tch, whatever Deku, just take them to the kitchen to get some ice, I’ll check to see if we have witch hazel or arnica to help with the healing.”

taglist:  @pasteldaze @hopeless-ro-simptic @ntngann @somerandominternetgirl-blog @ianem005 @lalaluvzen @antisocial-minnie @rogueofbullshit @hakunamatatayqueen @so-uncute @therealwalmartjesus @unlightedfool @all-the-kings-reblogs @cth-l @dudedontjudeme122 @lushpluto @ley-lani59 @seven-seventeen-blog-blog @firecet @invisiblemolly @wayward-bumblebee @glasswolff @graceorchid24 @letskidaddle @duskjelly @oddwvrlds @leslielikesmusic-blog-blog @akirahyoshi @tamakiwithcrab @xnorthstar3x @mitchiesdungeon

[lilevixen]

heyyy, idk if u write bertholdt or are even taking requests, but if u are can i request giving bertholdt an orgasm denial from a f!reader and it’s been like 3 hours that he’s had to hold it? thanks if u can :)

sweet boy

Characters: sub!Bertholdt Hoover x dom!female bodied reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.9k

Description: Reader teaches Bertholdt a lesson after he gets a bit too touchy with them in front of their friends

•WARNING- 18+ CONTENT: orgasm denial, no-contact orgasm, descriptions of oral sex (male receiving), dacryphilia(ish?)•

“Baby, please, I said I was s-sorry!” Bertholdt whined from across the room for what felt like the millionth time that evening. You casted a look of faux boredom over your shoulder from your small wooden desk, trying your best to remain blasé at the mouth-watering sight of your boyfriend still sat criss-cross applesauce completely bare on the bed. He was so good for you, so obedient; his arms never once left from behind his back for entirety of the time you had him there. How long did you have him there? After you two got back from the dining hall, minutes easily spilled into hours in the smudgy haze of repressed lust you had established. The only indicator of how long Berthodlt had been sitting there for, cock upright and twitching for attention, was how absolutely worn out he looked. Every inch of his deep, tan skin was glittering with sweat, cords of muscle in his thighs and abdomen strained beneath his flesh so severely they looked like they could snap any second, his chest heaved erratically as if he had just run a marathon- this was absolute torture for him, you could tell. You would’ve felt bad, if he hadn’t disobeyed you in the first place.

“Huh? I was reading, sweetie. I didn’t hear you,” a bald-faced lie on your part. Your eyes kept tracking over the same paragraph over and over again without absorbing any of the information in your brain, the sweet pleas of your boyfriend claiming all the space in your mind instead. His lip quivered at your persistence in feigning ignorance of his situation and tears quickly filled his dark eyes.

“P-Please! Can you please t-touch me? I need you so bad I think I might e-explode,” he stammered out, his voice meek but desperate, shameless, so needy and you felt it throb between your legs, adding to the arousal already collecting along your inner thighs. Despite how incredibly turned on you were, you let out a slow sigh hiss past your lips as if you were getting irritated.

“Well, you got to touch me plenty, sweets. In front of everyone, just like I asked you not to,” excitement overtook your annoyance some time ago, but what you brought up was a genuine point of contention. From the very beginning you made it clear you wanted your relationship to be private. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of him or anything, you just hated all the unnecessary attention couples garnered, all the mindless gossip and speculation of who plays what role, the whispers, the stares. And once Bertholdt had gotten comfortable with you, always seeking your touch like a love sick little puppy, you knew this was something that needed to be discussed. He agreed at the time, ‘if it means I get to be with you, I guess it’s okay,’ he said, but as things progressed he would give away your relationship in little ways. At first it was just the way he would look at you (which was only natural given your feeling for each other, you supposed), staring at your lips for a little too long when you spoke, a little twinkle of fondness in his warm eyes. You let this slide, because it was minimal and no one seemed to notice. But slowly, he started doing more and more things that you had to call him out on, resting his head on your shoulder, using his thumb to tenderly swipe crumbs of food off your face, nearly calling you baby- until finally, tonight in the dining hall while having supper with your friends, he practically announced you two were together by kissing your hand when you burnt it on a scalding bowl of soup. Porco was too involved with his food to notice, but you could feel Reiner and Annie’s eyes hovering over you as if you were an alien. Too embarrassed to handle their reactions, you excused yourself to your room and quickly left before they even had a chance to say anything, Bertholdt obviously right on your heels. He tried to embrace you and kiss you and apologize to make it all better, but his penchant for physical affection was what got you in this situation in the first place. So that’s when you decided to give him a little time-out. Even though, your edge was starting to wear down after hearing him whine out for you for so long.

“I know! I-I just don’t like seeing you get hurt! I didn’t think they were looking at us, I’m sorry Y/N!” he choked out, squirming against the air as if that would provide some sort of relief. “I’m s-so hard for you it feels like ‘m gonna pass out.”

“Oh really? And what do you want me to do about that?” You asked in a snarky tone to mask the unadulterated lust pulsing through you, going back to fake-reading your text book.

“I want you to touch me! I want to feel you, any part of you, until I cum over and over…” you could hear the thought in his voice as he got lost in what he was describing, and you didn’t need to turn around to know he was biting his lip with his head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut and brows knitted. Another hot rush of arousal swirled in deep in your stomach.

“You know I can’t do that, baby,” you said against your own body’s command.

“Y-Yes you can! I promise I’ll be good from now on, I w-won’t hold your hand or kiss you or hug you in front of anyone again! Just please, I need you Y/N,” maybe it was your own excitement, or how fucking good he sounded begging for you like a pitiful little boy, but this finally broke your resolve. It would be cruel to let him stay there like that all night, anyway. You pushed yourself out of your seat and made your way to Berthdolt’s trembling form on the bed. Even you just getting closer to him caused his heavy breathing to pick up pace.

“How do you want me, my sweet boy?” you purred, laying down flat on your stomach before his lanky body so that his dick towered above you like a skyscraper.

“A-Any way,” he looked down at you beneath his dark, fluttering lashes, swiveling his hips in anticipation of your touch. You let out a soft scoff.

“Be specific or I can’t help you~,” you said with a sweet lilt in your voice, harsh words laced with honey. His eyes blew open wide at your threat to leave him a writhing, unfulfilled mess for even longer than you already had.

“Can you take me in your mouth? Please?” A new wave of blush spread across his cheeks as he said this, and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was.

“There you go, baby,” you giggled. You guided your featherlight fingertips along the slick muscle of his thighs, causing him to tense up immediately, and you could actually see the thrum of his heartbeat racing beneath his skin in faint flits. He was so sensitive by now you didn’t doubt he would explode just like he said before. Your fingers playfully walked along the slope of his legs, working their way inwards, and you teased them to a gradual stop mere inches from where he needed you most. He was panting like a dog at this point, chest rising and falling violently as he looked down at you, jaw slack and eyes cloudy with frustrated tears.

“You’ve been waiting for this, huh?” You dragged your tongue along your lower lip and leaned in close to his pulsating cock so that your breath fanned across his shaft, digging your fingers into the tendons of his inner thigh. He gasped, the shock of you finally gracing him with some sort of stimulation overwhelming his worked-up body, and a throb of pleasure shot through his dick with such alarming intensity that you could see it expand in his veins and swell at the tip. You blinked up at him, a bit startled yourself. He was so close already and you barely even touched him… Maybe you didn’t even need to touch him.

“U-Uhuh!” He nodded frantically, tears now spilling down his flushed face and drool dribbling down his chin; the sight would’ve been sad if it wasn’t so fucking hot. You massaged your fingertips into the thin, sweat-slicked skin on either side of his balls and slowly moved your lips upwards so that they were ghosting the hot, leaking head of his penis. His whole body shuddered underneath you, hips eagerly twitching to meet your lips, but only mildly, timidly, making it clear he was still completely under your control.

“I bet you’ve been imagining this for so long, my lips around your cock, feeling me squeeze you in my throat,” you hummed, your lips just barely brushing his dickhead as you spoke, and to him the vibration of your voice and the warm flutters of your breath against him felt just as sensational as the euphoric grip of your walls after hours of waiting for any kind of attention. This was exactly what you suspected, what you were hoping. He was such a desperate mess that he could get off to just your words and proximity. “Can you feel it? My pretty little mouth drooling around you?”

“A-Ah! Yes!” He cried out, and his stiff cock slapped against his belly eagerly as if he was truly feeling every bit of what you were describing, hell, even you were starting to feel it from his reactions alone, the ache between your legs growing almost painful.

“Does my sweet boy want to cum down my throat?” You kept steady eye contact with him, savoring every bit of watching him crumble before you, intentionally letting your breath pour past your lips in heavy pants, and he bucked into the air with each puff, his abdomen flexed tight and his thighs shuddering.

“Ahaha y-yes please!” He whimpered, the rhythm of his hips gently rising to meet your breath becoming twitchy and unstable, a clear sign that he was on the brink of long-awaited release. A coy smile played at the ends of your lips as you batted your lashed up at him.

“Then cum for me,” and on command, his whole body convulsed under the weight of sweet, sweet climax, at long last, the hugest load you’d ever seen erupting out of him in thick, hot torrents that sprayed right in his face. You were so proud of him, your poor baby, putting up with your little act for hours on end despite yearning for you so immensely that you didn’t even need to touch his cock for him to bust. He just loved you that much and why exactly? You quite honestly didn’t know. You almost felt the need to apologize for treating him so cruelly, but at the end of the day you were trying to teach him a lesson, and based on how he was looking at you, right eye squeezed shut to prevent cum from getting in his eye, body rattling with exhaustion, it was safe to say he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. The least you could do was help him clean up. You got up on your knees and took his clammy face in your hands, gliding your tongue along his salty skin to get rid of all the cum, saliva, tears- whatever fluids were coating his face. When you were done, you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I love you, my sweet boy.”

||

A/N:

HEYYY LOVELIESSS💓💓 here’s my first official completed request (woohoo)!!! Bertholdt is not usually a character I would accept writing but this request kinda had me GRRRR ya know (thank you for that anon, I truly hope you’ll enjoy this! This was my first time writing orgasm denial too so idk if i did it right NAKWKA)? BUTTT yeah here ya go, bloop ilyyyy

~Bunny

[gyuluster]

the prince and the jackal | {f}

collab oneshot | fantasy! au | 11.8k words

“Because the prince of the earth can make you fall not only for nature, but the boy who rules over it.”

s u m m a r y : in the Kingdom of Terrae, you, a metalbender, believe in the deforestation to modernise the land. As a member of the Lumberjackals, you thrive on cutting down trees and stealing resources until you get caught by the Crown Prince, Choi Beomgyu, a lover and embodiment of the nature you wish to destroy. However, instead of imprisoning you for your crimes, Beomgyu decides to show you the beauty and wonders of nature, leaving you to doubt your beliefs, your identity, and your very feelings for the certain boy determined to change you for the better.

w a r n i n g s : prince! beomgyu, woodcutter! metalbender! reader, reader hates wildlife and all things nature, beomgyu is sunshine and flowers and everything good, shit ton of wildlife and fantasy stuff, bts kim line are part of the lumberjackals so are evil in this story i am so sorry y’all, beomgyu has a pet squirrel called jisung yes han jisung, kind of enemies to lovers not really but im pretending it is

p l a y l i s t : fairy of shampoo by txt | colours of the wind by judy kuhn | willow by taylor swift

a u t h o r ‘ s  n o t e : yes i am back from the dead to bring this fic hello!! this is a collab with @soobmint​ @juunnies​ @bffsoobin​ @honeyju​ pls do read their parts too they’re so sexc <3 do lemme know what you all think and thank you for reading!!

back to collab masterlist

back to my masterlist

“And this prayer I make,               Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her.”  — William Wordsworth, Tintern Abbey, 1798.

“ONE MORE BLOODY TREE, AND I’LL SCREAM THIS FOREST DOWN!”

You ignored the complaints of your comrades, trekking deeper into the forest. 

The sun was nearly drowned out by the towering shade of the surrounding trees, and there remained a constant buzz of the animals, either scurrying away or chirping in the skies. The cut up logs strapped on your back was a huge burden, and slowed your steps as you trudged onto the muddied pathways, staining your boots.

“_____, how much longer until we go to the markets?” one of the men asked, exhaustion clear in his voice. 

“Just a few more logs, Tae,” one of the woodcutters, Seokjin, answered, casting a side-ways glance at you. 

“But we’ve already got so many!” the former whined, pointing to the goods over their shoulders. “We can make decent money today!”

Unsheathing your sword, you cut away at the vines in your path, masking your sight ahead. It must be here somewhere, you thought, eyes darting sharply to every flower and bush. It has to be.

“Haven’t you fools understood already?” a snarl resonated from the group. Your horse trotted past you as Namjoon, sat on top, brought out his machete, brutally slicing the branches of the towering trees. “The wood we’ve got won’t last us all year!”

His eyes blazed with a certain greed as he looked over you all. “We must find the Tree of Life,” he declared, strolling past you, cutting down the path. “One strip of its bark could bring us a fortune.”

You listened to his statements with raised brows, following in his steps. In truth, none of you had ever seen the Tree of Life. No one in the kingdom had for centuries — it had become something of a myth, a legend passed down from every earthbender to child of its origins, and its significance. You didn’t know the great specifics, but the whole group knew that if they were to obtain even a twig from the great tree, it could grant them millions worth of gold. 

And that was something the Lumberjackals desired more than the wellbeing of an omnipotent tree.

Soon, the search progressed, your group cutting down a few Ebonies for its useful properties, but there was no heavenly legend welcoming you in all its finery. The sun was descending on the horizon, and although Spring was present, you were situated in the part of the forest where the gusts of the Ice Kingdom blew consistently in your direction. The cold was about to descend, and you were far from your home in the Metallum villages. 

Taehyung, the youngest of the Kim brothers, held onto a nearby oak, all strength leaving him. “I don’t know about you, but I am not travelling any further.” He glared daggers at Namjoon, who showed no signs of stopping. “I’m setting camp here, and you can do nothing to stop me.”

Seokjin joined his youngest sibling, collapsing on the patch of grass beside the gathering of flowers as he shrugged off his work of the logs. “I vote a little rest, even if Joon does not understand its meaning.”

The said-man let out a scoff at those words. “You both are just bloody lazy!” He turned to you, eyes pinning you where you stood. “You’ll keep searching with me, right?”

You agreed, but when you saw the fatigue in your leader’s gaze you grabbed the reins from his horse, stepping beside him. “You need sleep, Joon,” you said, concern in your eyes. “I’ll do another search. You three stay here.”

Namjoon held your stare for a moment before swiping his leg over the back of the horse, jumping off. He handed you the reins fully. “Come back after dawn. Us three will take over from you.”

You had a right mind to challenge the amount of time he was making you explore, but you kept your mouth shut, heaving onto the animal. Dumping your logs of wood upon the ground, you dipped your head in farewell to the Kim brothers. “I will see you in the morning, boys.”

Taehyung waving excitedly as he set up camp, Seokjin going straight to bed upon his blankets, and Namjoon’s stare cold yet understanding, you cracked the reins as the horse began to gallop away from the oaklands, and deeper into the forest.

The moon barely lit the way as you delved deeper into the trees, the sounds of nature turning sinister as the owls began to hauntingly hoot, and the wildcats began to purr. You kept your sword close, in your hand as the other steadied your horse. 

You let out a hard sigh as you commenced your searching. Sometimes, only when you were alone, you wished that Namjoon would snap out of his delusions. There was no Tree of Life, no invaluable source of fortune which would challenge the earthbenders and start their industrialisation. In truth, you only wished for a life more than just cutting down wood, but your leader’s promises could be much too enticing. 

Perhaps he was right. Maybe with the metalisation of Regna Terrae the metalbenders would be able to progress. It was not like the Kingdom cared for the likes of you, nor the nature which brought you to existence.

Stupid, damned forest. What good had it ever done you?

Suddenly, you heard the harsh snapping of the twigs which wasn’t from your horse. In an instant you halted, pulling the reins as your eyes darted to every corner of the dark forest. 

Silence.

You furrowed your brows.

The forest cannot be trusted. Even its silences were sinister and misleading.

Slowly, you got off your horse, tying the reins to a nearby tree. “Keep still, Aurum,” you whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

Patting the mane, you turned and followed in the direction of where the sound was heard, every step quiet and cautious. There was little light, you having to rely on your ears alone, and the hands which touched trunk from trunk. In moments like these, you wished you possessed a more useful power than mere metal manipulation — firebending would have been nice, but you supposed that luck had never been in your favour.

Seething, you held onto your sword tighter, sending a little rush of power from your fingers as it sharpened the steel. No one tailing you would survive in your hands.

You then heard a little sigh, and whipped your head to the direction. Gritting your teeth, you rushed to the place of the origins, anger rising. Swiping away the branches in your path, your boots were the only sound among the quiet hush of the forest, along with the slicing of your weapon. Whoever was toying with you will not leave your wrath.

Swiping away the plants, you finally found an opening of grass among the trees. Squinting, your anger surged to find a distant figure standing before you, all masked in shadows from the lack of light within your surroundings. It stood statue-still, matching your deathly quietness. 

But the figure did not seem like it offered death. Nor anything so dangerous as you promised.

“Come out!” you shouted, taking a step forward. “I know you were following me!”

No response. 

“Scared, are you?!” Another hesitant step. “As you should be!”

Still, only silence answered, and the soft crunch of the leaves underneath your boots. You took a deep breath, shining your sword from the moonlight. A scoff emitted from you, nerves disappearing. This should be easy. 

With an aggravated roar, swinging your weapon, you thundered towards the figure. 

You rushed into the moonlight pooling onto the grass, eyes intent with damage as you willed iron-like power from your veins, and into your hands, swirling around the fuller of your sword until it reached its tip, ready to burst onto the figure.

It was then the shadows moved. 

A flick of his hand. A soft glow within the darkness. 

And all of nature followed suit.

You were taken aback as the thousands of vines circulating the surrounding trees unwrapped themselves from their trunks, and snapped towards you in thundering speed. You had no time to take in their stems swirling around your feet, cutting off your run towards this certain figure. A gasp escaping, you were pulled back by the impact, and let out a further scream as you began to fall flat on your face. Then, even more shock reverberated through you as your feet were pulled upwards, shooting your body up until you were suspended from a tree branch, your one foot wrapped tightly in the vines.

Your world all upside down, you shook your head vigorously, feeling the strain of your one leg under complete control of the tree. The thrum of powerful magic of nature resonated through your body, ceasing you from moving your free leg and kicking any potential passerbys. 

Craning your head backwards, you saw with horror that your sword was clattered upon the ground, too far away to reach from the air. Straining your hand towards the grass, you willed your magnetic force, trying to lure your weapon into your hand.

The sword would have ended up in your grasp if another surge of the same natural magic did not break its path, sending it back on the earth.

Enraged, you looked out to the dark, sight distorted. “Gods, just come out already!” you screamed, swinging slightly by your sheer force. “Stop hiding in the damned shadows!”

There was a flutter of little animals coming out from the shadows. “Ha!” you spat, reaching for the dark. “Only sending a few creatures to scare me? You’re going to have to work harder than that!”

When there was another round of silence, you laughed harshly to yourself. “That’s what I thought.”

This time, however, you were not greeted by their usual, quiet answer.

More vines slithered down your frame, pushing your hands together. You gritted your teeth as the gnarly weeds tightened around your wrists, stopping yourself from using your hands.

Glaring daggers at the darkness ahead, you spat at the ground. “Show yourself!” you roared.

Your threats were answered.

Responded in an unimaginable way as the figure stepped into the moonlight.

You could not suppress your reaction.

The most enchanting boy you had ever seen revealed himself from the shadows. You could clearly see him from the light, the soft, child-like features amplified by his undoubted beauty — his mahogany locks curled around his face, cascading over his forehead. His gentle eyes promised great amusement, more so when they landed upon you, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. He was adorned in a fine green gown, few assortments strapped on his belt as leather boots, etched in ink, covered his feet. A crown of flowers and leaves settled in his curls, emitting its own, fantastical glow among the darkness.

The smile curved wider at your widened eyes. “Why so speechless now, my lady?” 

By all the gods. Even his voice sounded like the sweetest honey in all the hives. 

“I have come before you, now,” he continued, deeply amused by your bewilderment. “I have stopped hiding in those damned shadows, as you said.

“Where is your anger?”

Well, that seemed to bring your rage all back.

“It’s still here, you bastard!” you hissed, struggling in the rope-like vines as you tried to swipe your hand across his face. He merely took a step back, completely out of your range.

“Even without a weapon you are a force to be reckoned with,” the mysterious boy voiced out, raising his fingers as magic sparked from the tips. Instantly the vines encircled your arms, pinning them to your sides as the weeds wrapped around you completely. You were like a human-sized caterpillar, cocooned in vines except you would not turn into a butterfly and rush away into the forest. 

This nuisance before you would make sure of that.

A satisfied hum escaped him. “There we go,” he said. “Now you won’t be of any danger.”

“Who even are you?” you demanded, glaring daggers at the sight before you. Terrible shame that the sight was something you wouldn’t mind witnessing for the rest of your life. Even if it was upside down. 

A hint of surprise exposed upon his features. “Oh, this is amusing, indeed.”

He took a step towards you, you catching the faint scent of...flowers and trees and fruit and honey. You couldn’t really figure out a perfect essence — if nature had a scent, then this boy embodied it. “I am surprised you know not of me when you wish to destroy what I own.”

You raised a brow, at eye level with him, despite the loopy image. 

Then, the gears in your head turned, and you were struck hard with the realisation.

When you wish to destroy what I own.

“Oh gods,” you slipped out.

The boy smiled.

No, not just the boy.

The Prince of Regna Terrae — the heir to the Earth Kingdom. 

Choi Beomgyu.

Maybe this explained his otherworldly beauty. Crown princes of the earth kingdoms were known to be blessed by nature, so adorned the finest features known to man. Standing before you now, you cursed yourself for not seeing it before.

And cursed yourself again for cursing at him. Multiple times.

Beomgyu saw your eyes moving a mile a second and spluttered out a soft laugh, raising a finger so you focused on him. “I am glad you have figured out my identity. Now we both know what we are.”

His next words did not possess much hilarity. “I, a prince, and you, a Lumberjackal.”

The declaration had you gulping. There’s no escaping this.

He was not wrong in the slightest — you were a part of the Lumberjackals — a group dedicated to industrialising the Earth Kingdom, and giving it a head start from the other kingdoms who did not possess the natural resources that this land contained. You prided on deforestation, the cutting of wood and, even to a certain extent, the consumption of animals. Although you never participated in the last activity out of pure shame, you knew the Kim brothers certainly did, and enjoyed it to great extent. 

“Do you deny it?”

You tried to look away, but his gaze was a little too intense. Even if it was reversed. “I do not.”

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” he got out, and you could hear the pain in his voice. Could you even blame him? You destroyed what he held so dear.

Still. You were a metalbender. The desire for modernisation is in your very blood.

“I do what I must do, your Highness,” you grit out, struggling in your weedy cocoon. “It is the only way we survive. 

“And I will not stop.”

The boy’s eyes widened a fraction, in pure disbelief. He could not comprehend this — how could one be so against the idea of nature? How could anyone be so resolute in the decimation of what they survived on?

Prince Beomgyu cocked his head, pursing his lips. 

How could one hate a deity he considered so beautiful?

He said so himself. 

“How?”

You blinked. 

The boy continued. “How can you hate nature?”

His question took you by surprise — you did not really know the answer yourself. 

It was not like you despised the earth in all its natural form. Sure, it brought you the air you breathed, the food you ate, and the water you drank. But what else had nature given you?

You soured upon seeing the Prince’s face. You did not possess the powers other Terrae citizens were gifted with. Your branch of magic was hard, unforgiving. Simply a practicality, only useful for finding resources and making weapons.

Where were your subservient vines? Where was your natural greatness?

With this in mind, you mustered up the most brutal expression you could offer to the boy before you. 

“Because nature was not kind to the likes of me. So I shall not be kind to it either.”

This time, the Prince’s eyes widened even further, afraid they would pop right out of their sockets. 

Once again, his mind was in a twist — how had his dearest accomplice, his most cherished friend, been unforgiving to his subjects? He would never consider himself sheltered, but this was something quite unheard of in his kingdom.

“I know you do not believe me, but this is the only explanation I can offer.” You paused, accepting your fate. “Untie me already so you can send me to prison.”

You felt something swirl beneath the boy’s brown eyes, irises sparkling with wonderment. His voice was soft, if not lost within his own thoughts.

“I believe you, jackal,” he said. With a final step towards you, he left little distance between the two of you, eyes at level with yours as you hung from the tree. “But I cannot be satisfied with it.”

Another blink, taken aback by his declaration. “Well...well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

Shocking you further, he curled a little smile upon his lips. “Well,” he started, and as the smile began to widen further, he knew just what to do.

No, he was certainly not satisfied with her accepted hatred.

“We can start by changing that.”

It was your turn for your pupils to dilate. Gods above. This boy seems one chop away from a stump.

“What do you mean?” you demanded, but the boy was already turning on his heel, looking to the surroundings. He fell to his knees, feeling the ground beneath him with his hands. “Your Highness, what are you doing?!”

He did not deem to answer your question, only counter it with his own. “Do you have a horse nearby?”

You looked at him, surprised he figured it out by merely touching the grass. “Yes, but…”

It seemed that he did not need to hear any more, as he brought a hand out, fingers stretching. A tendril of green power burst from his palm, snaking through the dark air beyond your peripheral vision. The Prince was focused on his conjury, and you wondered what in Terrae he was trying to do.

Then, you heard a distant neighing, and found Aurum following the green trail of his magic, eyes glowing slightly.  

You tried to escape the tight cage of the vines. “Gods, what are you doing with my horse?!” you exclaimed. “She hates strangers!”

The magic disappeared, along with the glow in her eyes. You could tell she was confused at her surroundings, about to raise her hind legs at the boy who spelled her. “She’ll kill you!” you warned, bracing yourself to witness the death of a prince.

It was then Beomgyu stepped towards the horse, gaze sparkling with kindness. 

His hand touched Aurum’s face.

With no small amount of shock, you watched as the boy whispered to your horse, stroking her muzzle. You had never seen her be so friendly to any human she’s made contact with — by Terrae, she even deigned to show attitude to you, who had fed and groomed her since she was a mere pony. How was she sweetening up to someone she had just seen?

Maybe she’s still under a spell, you thought with malice, but then a more honest thought came to mind, and it only made you angrier. 

Or perhaps animals can be just as enchanted with him as humans can.

“What are you talking to her for?” you interrupted them, letting out an aggravated groan as the cocoon engulfed you tighter. “You’re sharing words with her as if she’d spread them!”

Beomgyu slid his eyes upward to you. “I was just asking Aurum if she’d like to have an apple.”

“No, I’ll give her one myself—” you tried to say, but then stopped short. “Wait. How do you know her name?”

He looked at you as if you had asked the most ridiculous question. “Because she just told me.”

You stopped struggling in the cocoon. “What did you just say? Aurum told you?”

Hands never ceasing his comforting upon the horse, he raised a quizzical brow. “Pardon me, jackal, but do you mean to tell me that you...you cannot talk to animals?”

Maybe you were not wrong to think the heir of the Earth Kingdom absolutely crazy. 

He gestured to the world around you both. “Can you not sense each and every creature nearby? Can you not hear their heartbeats, in sync to their purrs and murmurs?

“Can you not hear the very trees breathe around you?”

You did not know what to say. Perhaps you did not understand his words, what he really meant by a tree breathing. Was that even possible? You thought it unimaginable. 

So you offered him the only thing that remained in your mind.

“I have never felt these things.”

The hand upon Aurum’s nuzzle paused, unable to accept the statement which you offered him. 

His suspicions were confirmed. Your hatred of nature and all the beings which it birthed had rid you of your powers.

He had seen this before — lost souls who had done grave wrongdoings to the earth, and as a consequence, their very instincts were snatched, right down to the basics. There was no shortage of Lumberjackals in the palace dungeons, and upon closer inspection, he saw that these woodcutters felt no connection to their surroundings. It broke his heart seeing the lack of attachment, the lack of desire for exploration and yearning for their powers, but he knew it could not be helped. 

Whoever crosses nature would not be forgiven.

Still, when he inspected the confused, tired gaze of yours, searching him for any suspected lunacy, he just knew that he could not toss you in another old cell. This plan he had in mind could not occur through rotting in one place for the rest of your life. 

“Worry not then, jackal.” He raised his hand, magic blooming from his palm. “I am going to change that.”

Whispering to your horse, he listened for a soft neigh before heaving atop her back, hissing at the reins and other controls tying her down. You watched with slight fear. “W-wait a minute,” you started, trying to squeeze out of the vines, but with no luck. “You’re not going to just leave me here, are you?”

Patting Aurum’s mane, he voiced out calmly, “I wish with my whole heart, but then my plan will not work.” 

You pursed your lips, watching his eyes sparkle with mischief. “If you were not a prince, I would have cursed you.” 

With a flick of his hand, a rush of magic travelled to your cocoon; you felt yourself turning on your front, hovering you upright as the power gravitated you back on the ground, loosening the vines. 

“Not like that has stopped you before,” he merely countered as he observed you shrug off weeds in slight humiliation. “Now get on. We have somewhere to be.”

He waited a moment, sighing when you would not oblige. “Is something the matter?”

You wanted to say yes — gods, you wanted to scream at him to get off Aurum, leave you alone and let you cut trees in peace, but of course, that would be an impossible route to take. You still had no inkling of why the Prince of your kingdom was having mercy on you, and you would be quite the fool to exploit it foolishly.

With gritted teeth, you kept your complaints behind your tongue as you brought your foot on the stirrup, heaving upwards as you brought your leg to the other side, settling upon the horse. “Now,” Beomgyu began, looking over his shoulder. “There is no need to be shy. You may put your hands around me as the horse goes fast—”

“I shall be completely fine, thank you,” you interrupted him, brows furrowed. What was this prince even doing? You wondered whether he was a fraud. With that power you witnessed, though, you highly doubted it.

And his features. There is no way a commoner could possess such enchanting beauty.

Flustered, you soured even further. 

“Are you ready, jackal?”

You grunted out a yes, which was enough for the boy to command Aurum to start.

The horse, against your expectation, began galloping much faster, and with a yelp you were nearly sent flying out of the seat. Your hands, on instinct, wrapped around Beomgyu’s waist, and when you realised what you had done you cursed yourself for obliging him. 

You could almost hear his grin. “I told you!” he exclaimed over the noise of hooves clattering against the rocky mud. 

If only you could slap the heirs of kingdoms. “Just take me where you have in mind!” you barked back. “I need to be back to Metallum at dawn.”

“That will be just enough!” 

The horse swept past more trees, animals scurrying from your path as the moon lit the dim forest path. You held onto the prince for dear life, refusing to acknowledge the hard surface beneath his silk, his ethereal warmth radiating onto you. 

“Hey, jackal?”

A sigh. “Yes?” 

“Your horse’s name.” A pause. “Aurum.”

You looked to the trees whooshing past your vision. “What of it?”

Beomgyu whispered for the animal to slow down, scanning his surroundings for his destination. “’Gold’. A very ingenious name.” 

He glanced at your irritated face, and smiled. “My mare is called Argenti.”

Your mouth parted at the little revelation.

Argenti. Silver.

Before you could say more on the matter, the boy stopped the horse, cooing at her and praising her for helping him. Swinging his leg over, he jumped off the horse gracefully. He fixed his flower crown before turning to face you, falling rather awkwardly on the grass. 

A small laugh escaping him, you daggered him with your gaze as you stepped beside him, a hand on Aurum. Your stare lingered as he took a circle turn of the surroundings, moon almost winking at him as it journeyed in the blanket of night. After a while, Beomgyu pointed to the tree nearby you, stepping past you to palm its trunk. “Here we go.”

Fingers stretching, magic spluttered as it swirled into the thick expanse of the leaves, nearly covering the sky with their excess. The matter squeezed through, and brought out the hidden vines, tumbling down till they reached the roots. Grabbing onto the plants, the prince turned his head towards you, an offer in his eyes. 

You hated how you understood exactly what he meant. “I am not going up with you,” you retorted. 

“It’s my arms or the dungeon.”

Gulping, you swallowed down your irritation for him. Taking a step towards him, you maintained a safe distance as you made sure he was aware of your distaste. “Just get us up already.” Damn the gods for making him so aggravatingly beautiful, you thought shamelessly as you looked at him. “Your Highness.”

Perhaps he knew, for the little smile was back, wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close. “That’s more like it,” he murmured out before willing his magic into motion. 

Your breathing hitched as you were pulled rapidly upward by the vines, breaking through the surface of the leaves. You closed your eyes, feeling the scraping of the branches against your clothes until you felt yourself still, listening only to the deep breaths of the prince beside you. His hand was still snaked at your side.

“Open your eyes, jackal.”

Somehow, on instinct, you obliged. 

And widened them further.

You were in another world entirely — the branches expanded beyond your vision, intertwining with the others from different trees, so intricately interlinked beneath your feet that they created a floor. Upon this branching surface there was a little room, decorated with every unusual object that one could identify. Beside the bed, interwoven by these branches, you saw an abundance of flowers and leaves, an lamp of glowing fireflies resting in the corner, and a thousand other items which needed further explanation.

Judging by the awe on your face, the boy answered you, heading to the small cabinet where everything was placed. “A collection of gadgets,” he began, using his magic to separate every object. “That I’ve bought or been gifted since my princedom.” He took out a few unrecognisable things and strolled to the wardrobe, made from the same intertwining branches, and opened the doors, rummaging through.

“What are you even looking for?” you asked, but were dutifully ignored as he kept searching. You admired the intricate scenery, the plush excess of leaves beneath your shoes, shielding you and the prince nearby.

You heard him let out a satisfied ah! as he closed the doors shut. He walked over to you, showing you the rather odd object — it was an unusually large ice cube, miniscule snowflakes etched onto its every side as it orbited slowly in Beomgyu’s hand.

Your curious gaze upon the gadget had him into explanation. “A present from the Ice Prince,” he said, admiring the cold gift in his palms. “It provides an infinite water supply, so is incredibly useful for long journeys.”

“Taehyun, is he not called?” You shivered at the thought. “I am shocked to think he is capable of such small kindnesses.”

Beomgyu slid his eyes to yours. “Taehyun is not the man that his subjects have painted him to be.” His irises swirled in an indecipherable emotion. “Sometimes, one cannot judge the character of another simply based on rumour alone. Only with having conversation can one truly have an honest opinion.”

A small part of you wondered if he truly meant that for Taehyun, or to you, another villain in the Earth Kingdom’s millennia-old tale. Whatever it may be, you looked away, wondering when you’d be able to leave the prince’s presence. 

“Right,” you heard him say, pocketing the other unknown object in his breast pocket of his gown. “Let us go on ground once more.”

The boy was about to tug on the vines again when he was interrupted by a most unusual sound. 

Well, not unusual, considering you were situated in a tree house, but the noise was so shrill you instantly looked down to its origin.

Before you was a little squirrel, cheeks puffed as its little hands perched on its sides. Its soft tail moved rapidly behind its body, indicating irritation. 

Its small, black eyes were fixated upon the boy beside you. Letting out yet another squeak, you saw Beomgyu sigh out in exasperation, as if he had just remembered an important matter.

“Oh gods, I do apologise!” He exclaimed, falling to his knees as he held his free hand out, the other holding the hovering ice cube still. “I’m afraid I cannot feed you now, but would you be able to wait?”

The squirrel let out another squeak, and this time the prince flinched. You gawked at the scene — so not only can he command the trees, but he could talk to animals?

What can this boy not do?

“Ji, I am sorry!” Fishing out an acorn from his breast pocket, he offered it before him. “I have one, if it helps! I promise to feed you properly after I am done with a certain task.”

Even so, the animal seemed much unimpressed. It then turned its little head to you, and you could have sworn that its eyes judged your very soul. 

It squeaked some more, and this time Beomgyu widened his eyes, cheeks flushing. “By Mother Nature, no!” He bellowed out, panicked eyes fleeting towards you. “No, I just met her today.”

“Are you talking about me?” You asked, raising a brow. The squirrel then made another sound, one you could not decipher but, judging from the boy’s reaction, could definitely take a wild guess. “By gods, is this creature mocking me?”

You were rewarded with further squeaking, but was instantly silenced by Beomgyu. “Ji, no! I cannot have you being sarcastic tonight. Save your grievances for tomorrow morning!”

And as the prince scooped the squirrel in his hand, he walked over to the bed, settling it on the sheets. “Stay here. I will be back.”

There was sure to be complaints, but the boy kept sending looks of apology as he stepped back to the edge of the exit, tugging on the vines. “Deeply sorry for Jisung’s behaviour,” he said, swirling the cube slowly. “He is grumpier tonight as I have not fed him this evening.”

“A pet squirrel, huh?” You interrogated, looking down to the grass below. “And one you can talk to? Is that how you could communicate with Aurum?”

Nodding, the prince held his arm out. “Are we ready?”

You hurrying my shook your head. “Not again!” You crossed your arms. “I’ll slide down myself. Without your help.”

Shrugging, the boy held on tighter to the vine. “Your wish, jackal,” he said, and jumped down. Perking up, you squatted down to see him descend smoothly down the tree, landing perfectly on the grass. 

Grabbing onto the plant, you looked back to the grumpy pet, stuffing the acorn in his mouth. 

He then stuck his tongue out, and you gasped at the audacity. “Rude!” You shouted, but we’re only answered with shrill squeaking. Ignoring the creature, you took the vine by both hands, and followed suit.

Your descent was much less graceful, landing instead on your backside. You were met with the huffed laughter of the prince, and you forced down the urge to beat him with his stupid flower crown. Or perhaps tie these vines around his neck and strangle him.

No, that would only result in him using his silly magic. Awful, attractive bastard.

“What are we doing now, Highness?” You wondered out loud, rubbing your sore backside. “Do tell me there is some use of your rather odd ice cube.”

Beomgyu, after strolling further into the woods, slowed himself for you to catch up. “There is some use, unfortunately for you.” He waved you over, stepping past the wild bushes in his path. “Follow me, jackal!” he called out to you. 

Grudgingly, you did as he asked, hugging yourself from the cold breeze of the midnight, wondering where in Terrae he was trying to take you. The trees towered over you like intimidating strangers — if the prince spoke true, then you wouldtuly be unwelcome. 

You were surrounded by this coercion until the forest opened up to an open grassland, encircled by the nature which looked down at you. Beomgyu turned to you, bringing out a few seeds from his trouser pockets and standing right in the middle of the circle. 

“There you are,” he said as you stepped beside him. He glanced at the moon, measuring the amount of time he had left. 

“What are you going to do?” you asked him, still clueless regarding the whole situation. Why has he not sent you to the dungeons already?

His eyes travelled to your face. With a half-soft scoff, he held out his hand, the seeds now in perfect view. “It is not what I’m going to do,” he began. “It is what you are going to do.”

The confusion grew within you. “What do you mean?” you tried to clarify. “What am I to do with these seeds?”

Beomgyu’s eyes promised answers. “Bring out your hand, jackal.”

You did as you were told, holding out your hand as he put the seeds in your palm, fingers barely brushing against your skin. He then descended, knees upon the grass as he patted to the space beside you. “Come, sit.”

Pursing your lips in thought, you knelt before the grass, seeds in your enclosed fist as your gaze never strayed from the boy. “Your Highness—”

Magic oozing from his fingers interrupted your demand, slipping into the earth. Slowly, but surely, a small hole was separated by the green matter, dirt being shovelled to create a dip in the grassland. 

Once he ceased his conjuring, he jerked his head towards the new opening. “Place the seeds in the hole,” he instructed. “Gently now! Treat them with the utmost care.”

Grumbling in response, you leaned forward as you gingerly put each seed at the corners of the muddy dip, noticing a small spark with each placement of the grain. It was a bizarre feeling, but assumed it normal in the ways of gardening as you inserted the dirt over them, covering them fully.

You peered at the prince then, who brought out the large ice cube. Turning it rapidly, treacle of water dripped down to the ground, moistening the earth and feeding the seeds of its necessities. Putting the gadget back in his storage belt, he then returned his hand upon the damp mound, closing his eyes in a fixated peace. More magic swirled from his hands, but this time it encircled not only the place where you had placed the seeds, but you, all of you, engulfing you in its otherworldly warmth. 

“Your Highness?” You whispered out, but he was murmuring, murmuring words you could not comprehend, words which felt like you were not meant to hear. His curls were being lifted slightly with the tendrils of his power, but he stayed rooted to his spot, carrying on with what you feared was a grotesque ritual. 

You, too, became still when you felt fingers curl around your hand. 

On instinct you looked at him, eyes widening — you should have expected his hand to radiate some form of heat, considering this boy had such an unusual glow about him, but this…

Despite the soft chaos around the two of you, the touch was oddly comforting. 

His hand, dragging you out of your thoughts, led yours to the place you sowed the little grains of life, and spread apart your fingers till they covered nearly the entire, dug up earth. More matter escaped from his fingers, shooting further warmth upon the back of your hand, and travelling up to your heart. 

“Close your eyes, jackal,” you heard him chant from his cocoon of magic. “I need you to see from within.”

“See what?!” You beseeched, but his fingers held onto you a little tighter, and, as if he commanded your very body, had your eyelids descend shut, cornering you into the chambers of your mind.

See from within.

What could you see?

Darkness. Eternal darkness, and rusted iron, spilled mercury, and all the grim faces of the people who wanted to decimate the very place you knelt in.

I cannot see! You screamed in your mind, because in the whirlwind of his power you felt alone, trapped in your own mind, trying to join in on a ritual which would cursed the likes of you.

But in reality, you were not alone.

No, not when you felt something foreign in your body.

You swore you stopped breathing. 

Your fingers felt squeezed by another, but was ignored because you could see a whole other heartbeat which was not your own.

A familiar voice entered your mind.

“Do you see it?”

The prince’s voice; the soft, almost desperate inquiry, which you could not help but answer. 

“Yes...yes, by Terrae, I do see it.”

And perhaps he said some more, but you were not listening to his words. His speech seemed a little insignificant to the little heartbeat — it was as faint as the scent of departure, delicate as a snowflake, and as real as yourself, the prince, and the neverending forest.

When you tried to lift your hand, Beomgyu’s fingers halted you still. You could not believe that you did not mind it. “Whose...whose is it, your Highness?”

You were positive that he did not hear you with the lack of volume you let slide from your tongue. However, he answered your question, almost feeling the joy radiating from his response.

“The seeds.” 

Shocked, you opened your eyes, and found the Prince of Earth staring at you with an elevated joy. He gestured to observe your creation, and when your eyes fell upon the sliver of a stem which broke through the earth, between the spaces of your fingers, you wondered whether this was all a dream.

You could not help the curse which escaped you. The boy beside you spluttered into laughter, and you turned to see his face radiating with elation. The heartbeat, the one which you thought was under your control, proved you wrong as it skipped its beat along to his laughs.

“Wh-what are you laughing at?” You demanded, but you were unable to execute it with the anger you wish you held for him. He offered you a honeypot of smiles.

“You’ve brought life to the forest, sweet jackal.”

The little plant shivered in response, along with your own hairs at the back of your neck, which stood at his announcement. Its faint heartbeat grew louder, as well as your own in your ears.

“Do you feel it now?” he whispered, leaning ever so close as he looked to the forest around you. “Do you feel the trees breathing in your presence?” 

Unfortunately, although you could sense your plant’s essence, the heartbeats of every tree in the forest were still unheard. You shook your head no, but that did not wipe the grin off his face.

“We have time,” he reassured you. “Just know that Mother Nature has hope for you still.”

He took your hand, putting another upon the back as he brought you a different kind of warmth. “I have hope for you.”

You parted your mouth, unaccustomed to the contact, the kindness...to all that he represented. 

His eyes locked with yours, and although he had spared you the wrath of his palace dungeons, you feared whether you could escape the imprisonment of his gaze. 

There was no doubt in your mind as you let yourself be arrested into his stare — the Prince of the Earth was not going to haunt just a single night.

FRATERNISING WITH THE HEIR OF REGNA TERRAE WOULD BE THE DEATH OF YOU.

Of course, that was not the last time you saw him — you had become something of a personal project to him, a sin which must be reversed. Almost every night after the fateful encounter, you snuck out from the fences of the Metallum villages, barely evading the suspicious eyes of the Kim brothers, and met with him under his treehouse.

You did not know why you endeavoured so ardently in seeing him. It was not like he had become any less irritable with his amused grins and unmatched power, but there was something about him which you could not fend off. 

In a way, he made you believe you were worth more than simple woodcutting, selling oaks in the market, the empty promises of revenge against the Natural Kingdom. 

Somehow, he made you realise that, maybe, you truly were deserving of a more memorable path.

These very thoughts accompanied you as the sun began to set, pulling your hood over your head as you swept past the familiar trees, reining in the urge to greet every woodland creature which scurried past you. The past few weeks, after many misunderstood arguments with the Prince’s pet squirrel, you learned the slight quirks which the animal possessed, his every movement and what it would signify. You had Beomgyu to thank once again, but each time you wished to do so, he would say the same, hair-rising reassurance.

“Fret not, sweet jackal. It is a pleasure to show you the wonders of nature.”

Sweet jackal. The endearment made you so flustered, and that aggravated you to the greatest extent. You had already shared your name with the boy, but he insisted on calling you this name, as if the two of you had already established an intimacy from decades before. 

The very thought had your actual heartbeat racing.

You made sure to completely dismiss this foolery as you found the special opening of the grassland in sight, the glowing figure waving you over. A small smile involuntarily curled at your lips, hurrying closer till you fully saw Prince Beomgyu’s face clearly in the setting sun.

“You have arrived much earlier this evening,” he said in a way of greeting, fixing his flower crown as his squirrel played with the petals. “I would not say I’m displeased.”

On your part, you certainly were not either — he bore more finery than usual, his normal green gown threaded with gold swirls at the hems, small vines tied around his ears as natural jewellery. His hair was sprinkled with petals, a trait Jisung adored as he settled in the nest of his locks. His hands, too, were intertwined with dark vines, swirls wrapped around his fingers like extended rings. 

By the gods, he truly was an exquisite being. 

He noticed your silence, raising a groomed brow. “Is something the matter?” he asked, but when he saw your eyes dart to anywhere but his own, he immediately understood. You just managed to catch a satisfied quirk of his lips before he turned his attention to your plant. 

Following his trail, you brightened up to see your creation in full bloom — bright red poppies, stark against the pool of grass, stood as they swayed to the evening breeze. You knelt down to observe them closer, and felt a peculiar sense of pride at sensing their clear heartbeat harmonising with yours.

“They’re my favourite flower,” the boy said behind you. “I have always adored how they stand out amongst all the others.”

Watching the poppies almost dance in the cool air, you stood upwards once again. “Then why do you not wear them?” you asked out of curiosity.

“Because my parents do not like me wearing them.” He gestured to the flower crown, at risk of being torn up by Jisung. “They say the colour is too harsh.”

He clicked his tongue in irritation. “At least they could have spared me on my birthday.”

You were about to comment on his parents when those words escaped his mouth. Your own mouth parted in surprise. “Your birthday is today?”

The prince mocked being stabbed in the chest, nearly sending the squirrel to the trees. Taking Jisung from his hair, he propped him on his shoulder. “You have truly wounded me, ____!” he whined. “All this time together, and you had no inkling?”

Although he was only jesting, it only embarrassed you further. “I truly am sorry, your Highness!” you apologised, clasping your hands together. “If I had known, I would have made you a present.”

“Oh?” He took a step towards you. His eyes danced in mirth. “And what would you have made me?”

That seemed to rob you of your speech. “Well, um…” you trailed off, searching your now useless mind of any decent idea for a gift, but he waved off your fluster, chuckling.

“It is no problem, dear jackal,” he said, looking at the red flowers once more. “Seeing your poppies in full growth is a gift to me anyway.”

You wished he had not said that; glancing at them now, you could only hear his fascination within the petals. 

There he was again — staining your every entity of his remnants. How much more till he stains your very soul?

Jisung’s irritated squeak brought you back to the forest. You tried not to murder the damned creature as you muttered out, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Beomgyu groaned out. “I shan’t have you calling me that hideous title all the time.” He put a hand to his chest. “Have we not reached first name basis?”

Despite your surprise, you offered him a scoff. “Jackal is not my first name,” you jeered. “And please. You’re the prince of our land. Anyone who catches me being informal with you will surely have my head.”

“I would never let them,” he merely said. “Not before I show you one last part of the forest.”

You quirked a quizzical brow. “I think you’ve shown me half your kingdom by now.”

“But this is...quite different.” 

The boy stepped closer to you, reaching out his hand. You found yourself warming up as he enveloped it with yours, a gesture so small yet so triggering to your nerves. 

“Follow me, ____.”

With the tug of his fingers, you were led out of the grasslands and back into the jungles of Regna Terrae, catching familiar sights of ancient mahoganies and birches, different variations of trees all grouped together.

As the moon began to ascend, your anxiety increased. His hand worked wonders for your skin, but at the back of your mind, you could not shake off the image of the Kim brothers wondering where you had gone so long.

Especially Namjoon. Seokjin and Taehyung may have been much simpler in the brain, but the leader of the trio bore his suspicions of your whereabouts. He always knew you were never enthusiastic of your occupation as a Lumberjackal, so your sudden interest to roam the woodlands for hours into the night certainly had his ears perking. Of course, you always made sure to know that you were going without being followed, but in the end, the three brothers were quite unpredictable. 

You just hoped that whatever the prince had to show you, it would be seen quick enough to leave.

The density of the forest began to increase, and you soon began to doubt whether you had been to this part of the Kingdom before. It was then Beomgyu’s hands flowed with magic, and completely changed the scenery. The ancient trees, trunks as wide and thick as horses began to move apart to make way for him and you, the squirrel holding onto his shoulder tightly as it too squeaked in surprise. Your own eyes widened as each element of nature bent to his will, creating an easier path for his boots to step onto.

It was clearly a sight for admiration. These few weeks you had begun to realise the power of the earth, and how rich and true its roots lay. You felt the faint hum of their essences as you rushed past them, hand still clasped with his, and you dipped your head in thanks to the trees, hoping that one day you would hear them sing welcomes to you.

Slowing down, the group was barred by the curtain of thick vines, hiding you from the world behind. “I have never seen this before,” you wondered out loud, but when Beomgyu let go of your hand, and stepped forward, hands stretched out, your curiosity reigned further.

Jisung quickly scurried from his shoulder, ending up on the muddied path as he watched with black eyes of the phenomenon about to occur. You made to make fun of the squirrel when the prince let out an aggravated moan, hurling your head to his direction.

His heavenly voice chanted in a millennia old language, huge power emitting from his finger tips and swirling to the tumbling vines of the entrance. You could see the sweat beading down his forehead at the sheer effort it took, but he stayed rooted, sending surges of green matter to the cold nature.

Slowly, the curtain began to withdraw. Blinding light cut through, and when the boy let out a roar, pushing the whole family of vines apart you hid your head from the white bursting through. 

There was a deathly silence for a singular moment. 

You heard his ragged breathing, lasting for ten seconds before it turned into relieved, panted chuckling. 

Bringing your hand away from your face, you looked to see beyond the curtain. 

Your very breath was snatched from your lungs. 

Before you was the most enchanting deity of nature you had ever seen in your existence — it was a glowing white tree, trunk as wide as the two of you twice over, etched with milky-coloured wrinkles that contained sparkles of ancient magic. The leaves, much like finely cut diamonds, protruded from every branch which stretched towards every corner the eye could see. The diamonds were infinite, shining from the gentle light of the moon.

Even though you had never seen it before, you knew exactly what it was. 

“The Tree of Life.”

Your gaze dared to break away to see the prince for a second, whose own breathing seemed to have halted. Sensing your stare, he looked back at you, his face half glowing from the deity’s light.

“I...I thought it did not—” you tried to say, but of course you could not when it was right there before you, as if it had been waiting to be found all its life.

“Exist?” He took a step forward. “Every myth is borne from truth after all.”

Indeed it was — you had learned of the Tree of Life when you were a mere girl, listening to fairy tales before being told to sleep. This Tree could not be seen by the common man, and legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk. Evidently, no one could prove this theory, but its mystery had what inspired so many people, metal and earthbenders alike, to find it, for opposing reasons.

You knew why Namjoon wanted to find it — for the amount of gold a singular leaf could bring him. Now, having accused him of believing in fantasies, you almost felt ashamed for having ridiculed his searches. 

“Come.”

You perked up at the Prince’s voice. 

“You must get a closer look.”

Picking up the pace of your feet, you fell into step beside him as the two of you started towards the legend come to life. The closer you approached the more enchanting it looked — the leaves glistened further, as if greeting you with their shine. 

Jisung scurried between you both, his little head never straying from the Tree. It let out an awed squeak, and Beomgyu hummed in agreement. 

“Have you ever seen anything like it?” 

You shook your head, transfixed. “Never,” you responded, feeling the very earth shift beneath your feet.

If nothing else convinced you of the power of nature, then the existence of this deity certainly did.

You stepped past the boy, the grass hushed beneath your feet as you stretched out your hand. When your fingers touched the milky bark your breath shuddered out of you. It was simply unreal. The touch was surprisingly soft, so unlike the normal trees, and with each crack of the bark there was ancient writing inscripted within. With further shock you felt a very distant heartbeat as the fingers ran along the words, faint yet powerful.

By the gods. 

“Where have you been hiding all this time?” you whispered to the Tree, tracing the aged trunk. “Your Highness, is everything about the legend true?”

There was no response — you figured he was still star-struck, and you continued to admire the most beautiful force you had ever seen.

It was not until you heard Jisung’s shrill squeak that you turned around.

You felt your soul leave your body.

Because there he was, the one man you dreaded to see. The one man who held Beomgyu’s unconscious body in his hands as he dropped him upon the grass. You noticed the little dart on the side of his neck, and all the blood in your body was drained. 

Kim Namjoon.

His answering smirk was more a flash of teeth. “Do you believe me now, ____?” 

You backed up against the Tree, eyes darting to the prince. “What did you do to him?” you asked instead, voice void of any emotion.

“That does not matter,” he dismissed. “But of course, it would matter to you now that you’ve attached yourself to him.”

He took a step forward, his ebony machete glinting in the light of the phenomenon behind you. “Stand aside, girl. It is time to make our fortunes.”

On instinct, you stretched a hand out. “I cannot.”

The man was taken aback by your hesitance. “Whatever the gods do you mean?”

Gulping, you tried to steel your will, inhaling slowly. “I cannot let you do it, Namjoon.” Your eyes glanced at the still prince before glaring at the perpetrator. “You won’t get a single branch of the Tree.”

A harsh laugh escaped him, taking a step forward. “Oh, and you’re going to stop me?”

You brought out your own sword — the one which you promised to use on Beomgyu — and raised it toward him. “Do not come any further,” you warned. 

It seemed the man was not not going to compromise.

Not when he swung his machete, well on his way to hack you to pieces. 

You quickly brought your weapon upon you to deflect his aim, sending him forward, and away from the Tree.

He can try and hurt the Tree of Life.

Easily gaining step, Namjoon mustered his power, ebony sharpening from his fingers as he clashed against you, lightening-fast strikes of his machete having you strained. You never doubted the bastard’s swordsmanship — he was skilled enough to be a general in the King’s royal army.

A shame he chose his fighting for a darker purpose. 

You tried to slice the free space of his abdomen, but the man was sharp, quickly dodging as he swerved to the side, another clash of weapons ringing around the forest. 

“You cannot beat me, ____!” He roared, one hit after the other, sending you further back. 

Taking every hit, you stumbled, gaining your step yet staggering once again with his sword. After all, you could not outsmart the master; he was the man who taught you to fight.

Even so, you refused to give up. “I can die trying!” You seethed as he brought his strength down. His weapon, screeching against your own, slowly descended, closer and closer to your neck. 

A harsh groan escaping, you mustered all your strength into sending his machete aside, barely a spare second in your name before you whirled to your left, missing the power blow.

“All this for a bloody tree!” He screeched, thundering towards you. “We would have been rich, you fool!”

Another mighty hit, and you were sent back, averting his strikes with your sword. Because you were so exhausted, your magic would not burst from your hands, adding more power to your weapon. It was your melee strength, nearly all gone, and your nimble feet.

“What is all this for?!” He demanded, slicing at your cloak, cutting through the fabric of your trousers. The clash of weapons continued, faster and faster. “What is worth more than all the riches of the Kingdom?!”

Amidst the brawl, your eyes slipped to the figure before you. Distant, yet instantly recognisable with his eyes closed, and mouth parted, flower crown scattered around his head. Jisung, too, laid injured beside him, watching your fight with fear in his little eyes. 

What is all this for?

You only had one person in mind.

But that was not enough.

No, not when that sliver of a second gave Namjoon enough time to strike you, sending his machete straight into your stomach. 

A shuddered gasp escaped you as the machete entered through — a burst of pain shot through your entire body, echoing the fatality of your situation. Tears stung your eyes as you dropped your sword, looking at your opponent in the eyes.

The Leader of the Lumberjackals showed no mercy as he yanked out his weapon. 

A moan rushed past your lips as you fell to your knees, gripping your blood-gushing stomach. Namjoon gazed down at you with no remorse at all. “Perhaps he was not enough,” he said, cold as metal.

He stepped past you, focusing on the glistening Tree of Life, its white treasures still exalted in the moonlight. Your body, completely spent, could not hold you upright, falling straight into the grass. Straining, you cried out as you stretched your hand out in vain efforts to stop him, but it was simply no use.

You had been defeated.

And now, after witnessing the most perfect element of nature you had ever seen, you were to watch it be decimated.

This is how it ended. You, fumbling for your last breath, your prince nearby and probably dead.

Namjoon raked his eyes over the Tree, grinning wildly. “Oh, you are going to make me the richest man in the Kingdom,” he declared, raising his machete till it hovered just before the bottom of the trunk.

He elevated his voice so you could hear. “Enjoy watching me destroy what you sacrificed yourself for!”

Closing your eyes, you were about to let oblivion take over. 

You awaited the sound of his weapon against the bark.

What you heard was something completely different. 

An explosion filled your ears as white light, even more blinding than the one before, had you squeezing your eyes further shut. You made out the screams of your once leader as it was drowned out by the eruption, and you tried to see what had so suddenly occurred, only to be greeted with more brazen lights. 

What...what was going on?

When the deafening noise quietened, you picked up on the soft crunch of grass, edging closer and closer to you. A compelling force was felt against your dying soul, and you wondered if the Reaper had finally come to take you.

When you felt air-light hands on your abdomen, you did not expect death to be so warm.

Slowly, dragging open your eyes, you prepared yourself to be taken to the afterlife. 

What you saw instead was something else entirely.

Something which made even the Tree of Life as a mediocre enchantment.

Looking over you was not human — not with the glowing, shimmering skin, sparkles and shine radiating off its golden, liquid body. Her eyes were white with the same light you had seen twice this evening, fluid locks of hair flowing all around her. Her lips offered a radiant smile, already bringing some life back into you, and her whole body, although similar to yours, was free of attire, exuding the light of a star. 

Perhaps you truly were dead. 

The being, however, proved you wrong with her words.

“Brave human,” she began, and her velvet voice had you clutching your stomach. “I saw what you did to defend me.”

You tried to open your mouth to tell her that you defended the Tree, but then your eyes dilated at the revelation. 

The legend foretold that there lived an otherworldly creature inside its trunk.

But this...this god-like creature was not just a mere girl.

“You sacrificed yourself for my Tree,” she stated, voice echoing across the woodlands. “For my forest, my every creation, despite being an enemy of mine in the past.

“You deserve a token of my gratitude.”

Her voice nearly put you to sleep with the way it lulled in the midnight air. You wondered in your tired mind what she could offer you now that you were breathing your last breath.

Then, you felt her hands upon your stomach.

A loud groan escaped your lips as the torn flesh began to stitch on its own accord, courtesy of the magic which poured from the sublime being. Your whole body worked to heal you, reversing the damage done by your once leader, whose whereabouts you had no inkling of. 

The pain, which once tore at every nerve within you, began to fade away, and you opened your eyes further after gaining the strength, fully taking in the earthly spirit which had restored you. 

You parted your mouth, voice parched as you rasped out, “I...Beomgyu…”

A heavenly smile curled at her lips. “The prince is fine, soldier. It would take more than a dart to eliminate the heir of the Earth.”

A relieved breath left your lips. You then looked to the being, putting your hands above hers. “I am not who I was,” you whispered.

Mother Nature smiled down at you, and you knew then and there that perhaps the world is not so cruel after all.

“I know, brave human.”

The luminous creature ascended to her feet, letting go of your hands. She dipped her head in acknowledgment, and turned on her heel. Struggling to your side, you watched as the otherworldly figure stepped up to the Tree of Life, looking at you one last time.

Raising a hand to her chin, she blew some magic towards your way, bathing you in sparkles. With a final beam, she slipped into the tree, enlivening the whole structure till it stood straight once again.

You truly could not believe what you saw.

Feeling the glimmer dancing on your skin, however, you knew this was not a figment of your imagination.

Mother Nature saved you from death.

Truly, utterly, ethereal. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard soft coughing nearby, and you heaved upward at the sound, your strength all present.

Beomgyu.

Upon your feet, you rushed to where he lay, stumbling from the hurrying as you fell to your knees, hands clinging onto his face. Jisung, his injuries healed from the celestial visit, scurried upon his owner’s chest, waiting for him to awaken.

“Beomgyu?” You murmured out, fingers stroking the soft planes of his cheeks. “Beomgyu, damn you, open your eyes!”

Tilting his face till it faced you, you watched as the prince’s eyes fluttered open, tired and wide and absolutely beautiful.

A trembling breath gasped out of you. “What…” he grated out, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “What just...happened?”

You willed the tears in as you caressed his face. “The legend was true.”

His confused gaze had you continuing. “Beomgyu, I saw the celestial creature when I was dying, and she saved me. It was true, Beomgyu, she healed me with her hands and—”

Your rambling ceased when the boy brought his fingers to your face. Warmth flooded your cheeks, and not because of how hot his hands were.

His smile could have easily beaten Mother Nature’s. 

“You called me Beomgyu.”

He did not let you respond as he brought your face down to his, tilting it slightly as he pressed his lips against yours, enveloping you in a sweet kiss. 

His mouth was warm, just like him, soft and plush, rendering you helpless over him. Your shock was quite prevalent, but you let the affection take over as you kissed him back, hands carding in his curls. He moved against your lips as his fingers stroked down to your jaw, savouring every feathered touch.

When he broke away, his breathing was ragged, cheeks flushed. He saw your own dishevelled gaze and chuckled to himself. 

“I think this might be the best birthday present I have ever received.”

The Prince of Regna Terrae laughed some more when you refused to meet his eyes.

You were about to counter him when you heard another, completely new voice. 

“You both could have done that without me being here.”

Your stare dove to his chest, to the direction of the sound.

Jisung the squirrel glared at you with the entire irritation of the Kingdom. “Oh what? So now you can hear me?!”

A yelp resounded from you. “How are you talking?!” You screeched. “You’re a bloody animal!”

“Oh, thank you so very much for stating the blatantly obvious!” He drawled, and you could not comprehend the sarcasm that just came from a bloody woodland creature.

You peered at Beomgyu, who was just as surprised as you were, despite his entertained features. “____,” he started, sitting up straighter. “Does this mean—”

Getting to your feet, you looked around the forest, the Tree of Life standing proudly. 

It was then you sensed the heartbeat.

Not just your own, or the poppies — but of the entirety of the Kingdom.

Faraway, yet still present, it thumped against your chest like an echo of your own heart, a harmonisation of all the trees, bushes, flowers and animals. It was almost enchanting how it slowly thudded within you, and with such welcome. 

Like greeting a friend you had not seen for a long time. 

When you caught the Prince’s gaze, his entire face lit up. 

Before you could say anymore, you were swept into the boy’s arms, engulfing you with a hug of eternal warmth. His voice rang along your soul as he declared to the whole word.

“Nature has accepted you, ____!”

You heard the clicked tongue of Jisung beneath you, and Beomgyu brought you at arm’s length before sticking out his tongue at his pet. 

He looked to you once more, and saw the very emotions you dared not let yourself believe in.

“I knew you were capable of change, sweet jackal.”

The tears, this time, refused to be held back any longer. 

The boy melted as he swept away each tumbling drop with his fingers, clutching your face. 

As you leaned in this time, kissing him breathlessly, you tasted the smile which flourished upon his lips, drinking in your every essence. 

You wondered, thinking away as your heart beat faster, whether this was still a dream, a vision which would end the moment you woke up, back in the cold village you once called your home. 

When you felt the presence of the celestial being again, looking down from the branches of the Tree of Life, you knew that this was no delusion.

Pulling away, you turned Beomgyu to the glistening, living structure, both of you catching sight of her.

Mother Nature smiled at her heirs.

The both of you knew it in your hearts, simultaneously beating. 

The heirs of Regna Terrae would not let her down. 

[spenciebabie]

idk if you'd be up to this but can u write something inspired by the song "what he dont know" by anarbor!! like you and spencer have been working together for a while and you both like each other and the sexual tension is hiiiiigh but you both wont make a move. so you keep on going on dates but they dont make you feel good and spencer knows it so he decides to make a move then you "cross the line so many times" (omg im sorry if this is too much)

i love this idea, the tension, the jealousy! i wasn’t sure what you were looking for but it felt like it should be a little more on the dom!spencer side?

— —

It was a delicately choreographed dance at this point. They both knew about it, and it’s not that either of them was shy necessarily, just that neither of them had the courage to make the first move.

She knew that Spencer was the only one she wanted, but she couldn’t stop herself from trying to replace him somehow. If she found another guy she liked then maybe her feelings for Spencer would just go away?

So she went on dates, plenty of them, until she found someone passable. And honestly, even if he was the greatest person ever, he still wouldn’t be the right guy. She couldn’t tell anyone that though, so she just worked around it.

“Yeah, I mean, he’s nice! We get on well it’s just…” she trails off, staring into her drink, the girls of the BAU huddled tight around her in the booth.

“C’mon what’s the problem?” Emily encourages, “Maybe we can help?”

But she just shakes her head, “It’s not that kind of problem. It’s the sex” she blurts out, “I just— we’re not, compatible maybe?” and it’s not the whole truth, but it’s not wrong either.

“Like how?” Penelope pries,

“I don’t know, like I haven’t… you know?”

“Cum?” Emily just states and the girls erupt in laughter, drawing attention to their table, drawing attention to her problem.

“And what’s going on over here?” Derek saunters over and he’s got Spencer in tow as they nestle into the booth too.

“Y/N here’s got a new man, but he’s well… lacking” Penelope puts it gently and the table breaks into giggles again, but the only person she’s looking at is Spencer. And his eyes are locked right back onto hers, calm.

“Well he’s not ‘lacking’ down there” she says, “but it’s more that we just can’t seem to get there, I guess, I don’t know” she shrugs, trying to drop the topic to no avail.

“So does he turn you on?” Emily asks, like it’s a totally reasonable question, and she can see the corner of Spencer’s mouth lift up in a smirk.

“Yeah, of course!” she rushes out.

“Maybe it’s you” Spencer says, it’s almost a whisper under his breath but she hears it anyway, she’s always tuned into his frequency.

“I beg your pardon?” she whips her head around to scold him, but he just shrugs.

“I said maybe it’s you. Maybe you’re just bad in bed?” she rolls her eyes so far back they look like they might get stuck.

“Y’know what, let’s drop it. How’s your new thing going Emily?” the segue works and the topic is dropped for the rest of the evening. Right until it’s time to leave.

Everyone’s piled into their respective cabs, leaving just her and Spencer to stand on the street waiting when he finally speaks again.

“Tell me the truth.” he states it like a command, not a question.

“What about?” she sighs, feigning ignorance.

“Does he turn you on, really?” he turns to look at her, taking a step just the tiniest bit closer.

“I— I don’t— yes?” she stutters out, nervous all of a sudden.

“Okay” he nods, “But does he make you feel the way I do?” he says it in a hushed whisper, as he looks straight in her eyes. And this is it. This is the closest either of them has ever come to making a move. Despite all the pining, the tension, the stolen glances, the filthy dreams, this is the closest they’ve gotten. And they can both feel it.

“No” she breathes, surprising herself, “I don't think anyone could”

“So are you gonna do it, or will I?” he says, inching even closer so that their faces are so tantalizingly close now.

“Do what?” she asks, and he just rolls his eyes before diving in.

He cups her face in both of his hands, cradling it delicately as he presses his lips right against hers. It takes a moment for the shock to wear off and she’s opening her mouth on his, desperate and hungry. And then his hands are in her hair, pulling and tugging sharply as their tongues work against one another.

One cab ride later and they’re finally toppling in the door of Spencer’s apartment, fumbling with the buttons on each others coats as their mouths fight to stay locked together.

They don’t even make it as far as the bedroom, toppling down on his sofa. When his hands land on the zipper of her dress he takes a second to be sincere, looking straight into her eyes as he speaks, “You know there’s no going back? Once I’ve got you out of this dress that’s it for me” and he means it. She’s the only one he could ever actually picture himself with, and it had been that way for so much longer than he cared to remember.

“Take it off” she says with no hesitation, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. And moments later there’s no more items of clothing to remove as they position them selves on Spencer’s sofa.

He’s sitting with her on top of him, one of her legs resting curled on either side of his lap.

“Tell me the truth.” he whispers, leaning in to say it right against her ear, and she can feel his warm breath against her skin. And his hands are on her, all over her body, one of them tucking in-between her legs as she lets out a desperate moan.

“Did he touch you like this? How did it feel?” she can barely speak as his fingers trail through her folds, brushing softly against her clit.

“Fuck” she moans, “No! It didn’t feel like this, not even close”

He groans at that, slowly pulling his fingers away from her, leaving her missing the contact immediately. But then his hands are on her hips, guiding her so that she’s positioned right above him. He takes a second to line himself up underneath her before she slides down. Sinking down along his length, taking him in slowly, savoring the way he stretches her out, filling her up.

“Could he get this deep?” he whispers against her ear once he’s buried to the hilt inside of her with her hands braced on his shoulders. She shakes her head.

“No, Spencer— never! You feel so fucking good” she can barely force out the words as he starts to move. Hands gripping her hips steadily and holding her in place as he rocks own hips up into her.

“Oh god! Spencer!” She gasps, and he picks up the pace. He wanted this to be special, he wanted to savor it, honestly he did, but he just couldn’t hold back anymore. The nosies she made, the way her head fell back and her nails dug into his skin was all too much. And he can’t make himself slow down.

Fuck it. There’d be plenty of time for slow, languid, loving sex later on. For now he needed to see, to feel, what she was like when she came.

“I— I’m— fuck! I’m close” she mutters out, almost incomprehensible.

“Did he ever get you this close?” Its falls from Spencer’s lips before he even realizes he’s said it.

“No! God no! Spence— I’m gonna—” she’s almost crying at the feeling and he pumps in and out of her, his hands still holding onto her hips for dear life as he pumps up into her.

“Where do you want it Y/N?” He moans, teetering right on the edge of his own climax as she rode out hers.

“Anywhere you want Spencer, I’m yours”

[yandere-sins]

The Fox Wedding - Embrace the marriage (Kita)

Summary: You are to marry the fox spirit Kita Shinsuke after you accidentally agreed to become his wife by signing the deed to your new home. A contract is a contract, he says, but is there more to this marriage than you know? Will you be whisked away by one of the foxy twins instead, or have to marry Kita after all? Can you be with a creature that only seems tender on the surface, or will you try to run even if it might cost you your life? Choose your route carefully, you never know what these foxes are up to!

Characters: Kitsune!Kita Shinsuke x afab!Reader

Rating: Explicit   Warnings for this chapter: Yandere, Kidnapping, Forced/Unhealthy Relationship, Rough Handling, Mention of bite marks, Mention of Non-Con, Pregnancy, Mention of (not human) blood, Monsters, Mention of burns, Verbal threats

“Don’t you remember?” 

He asked you this again on that one gloomy night as you rearranged your kimono. You had gotten good at putting it on, not because you wanted to learn how to do it, but because it was the only thing that made you feel better about yourself. The way Shinsuke owned you was painful, stinging, and tear-inducing, and you felt better not having to see the countless bite marks of possession he put on you. Thus, you learned how to do it. Better you than a maid, or worse, Shinsuke himself. 

“I don’t.” 

Your answer was always the same. How long had it been that you two were wed on that sun-filled, rainy day? A month? Three? Half a year? Yet, he never stopped with his riddles, and this question was the only one that arose every once in a while. Your heart ached with the desire to go home, leave this godforsaken country to be where you belonged - where you never should have left. But of course, it wasn’t that easy. 

“I see,” he whispered, and from the moon shining in through the open windows in your shared bedroom, you could see him nod his head thoughtfully while his eyes focused on your stomach. “You were still so small back then. The smallest human I had ever met.” 

His soft smile was lost on you as you shook your head, unbelieving of his words. Shinsuke didn’t like unnecessary talks. He’d rather have a quiet morning than one filled with small talk you learned. And when he spoke, it was hard to accept what he said. Nothing good ever came from him saying your name. No affectionate string of words sounded like he meant it when he said it in the usual indifferent tone. An ‘I love you’ was quick to change into ‘Mind your manners’, and often he ignored your wishes in favor of fulfilling some kind of clan duties. 

Perhaps, the only moment you managed to catch him off-guard was when a doctor - or something close to that just less human than you liked - announced your pregnancy, but you had been too shocked to be able to react to the sincere smile on his face and the tight hug he gave you despite the news being more of a tragedy to you. It wasn’t the child’s fault, even you knew that, but from day one, you felt responsible for it yet devoid of the feeling that you could love the kid like a normal mother would. 

With your hand falling to the little bump on your stomach, you were glad it was still decent enough to not be immediately visible. Yet, as long as you were aware of the growing life inside you, the more you felt the dread of having to take care of yourself for its sake. There were worse wounds that Shinsuke could inflict on you, and unfortunately, you wouldn’t even put it past the clan to follow his lead rather than step in and stop him. It still made your blood freeze to think back to when you saw the real him for the first time. No, not him. The monster he was. 

It was hard to forget the ashen creature that brought fresh meat for the village. You always thought foxes were small, playful yet wild animals, but that didn’t seem to apply to fox spirits. These images kept flashing before your eyes as you stroked your belly reassuringly, the baby inside of you not yet in need of comfort, but you sure were. 

Fox spirits were tall as bears, and every one of them deadlier than a pack of wolves. It was bewildering to learn that Shinsuke wasn’t even fully grown yet, only six of nine possible tails emerging from his back once he turned into that beast. You could have sworn with his fox form being as tall as you were, he’d be at least grown out, and it unnerved you to imagine what he’d look like once he was. 

Even if he allowed you to pat his fur, nudged you into the affection despite smearing deer blood all over you, it was no less reassuring to know what he really looked like even if he acted like that. You had seen him snap a deer’s neck in two cleanly with his maw. You had heard him growl. And none of this made you any less afraid of your own husband, the father of your child. 

Involuntarily, Shinsuke had made you become what previously had been your worst nightmare. You were a healthy woman, so it was only a question of time until his forced intimacy would produce the child everyone around you was looking forward to. Except you, but how could you possibly be when this wasn’t what you wanted at all?

Even so, you realized the child was just another innocent soul in a much more complicated scheme of his ‘love’. One you still not understood even though he was so insistent that it existed. Nevertheless, you couldn’t let yourself be punished and endanger the little one, always seeing these huge, beastly creatures in your inner eye whenever you thought about running or misbehaving. However, you also couldn’t stop yourself from flinching when he reached over to caress your stomach, unable to forgive and, even more so, forget what all he had done to you.

Tearing you out of your life, your world even, force you into this relationship and himself on you, was small compared to the ‘lessons’ and ‘training’ he made you go through to become more fitting for your role as his wife. Your maltreated body was only one evidence of his ‘care’ and ‘love’ that he so generously had sworn to you before your wedding. There was no ‘happiness’ in sight even after being married for so long. If he thought that child made you happy, he had been wrong.

Answers. Answers would have made you happy - or at least, made this more endurable. 

“Back then, you were scared too.”

His palm clasped around your hand tightly as he began to circle it over the baby bump. He acknowledged your flinching, your fear. Though even if he noticed, he only ever did so in his favor, dismissing it to do whatever he pleased or continuing to force you into obeying his will. Shinsuke always looked serious and talked with logic, you wouldn’t have believed the slyness in all of his doings even though it dawned on you that it was one of the foxes’ main traits. 

“Back when?” you mumbled, wanting to pull out your hand but getting stuck in his grasp, sighing inwardly as you gave up on fighting him. Not when he was so close to the child. You didn’t want to risk upsetting him. 

“Twenty years? Thirty? Time--” Interrupting himself, Shinsuke let out a thoughtful hum, clearing his throat before he resumed speaking.” Time is tough to calculate when you live for so long. Day is day, night is night. Sometimes it snows, and sometimes it rains, and all the other days are mostly the same. Only now, you are here with me, and that makes me happier than anything else.”

This time, it was on you to ponder, wondering about the time frame. There was no reason to get upset about the fact Shinsuke didn’t seem to know your current age, nor how long it really had been. The message ’a long time ago’ was received by you either way. What you couldn’t rack your brain around was that there wasn’t an instance you could remember meeting Shinsuke before, especially since you hadn’t been to Japan when you were as young as he made it seem-

“Oh,” you whispered. Oh, you had been to Japan before as a child, with your family to visit friends that resided in this beautiful country. But you had forgotten all about it, how old had you been? Four? Maybe five? Now you remembered that the reason for your first trip as a teenager had been to see the country you had been to before but could barely remember since you were just a toddler back then. 

Finally sitting up from his futon, Shinsuke moved over to sit next to you, his right arm snaking around your waist while his left hand remained on your belly. “Do you remember it now?” he cooed softly, leaving a kiss on your cheek as he waited for an answer patiently. 

“There was a fox…” you mumbled, straining yourself to remember what happened so long in the past. “I think it was wounded.”

“Continue,” Shinsuke instructed gently, bringing his lips to your temple before brushing back your hair to continue down your neck, leaving pecks of affection behind wherever they wandered. 

“It was wounded, and I… I--”

“You gave me your rice ball,” he finished for you as you struggled with your words. 

“That was… you?” you slowly but surely pieced it together, and he nodded, pulling you closer to him and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His embrace was tight but less formal than any other touch he laid on you so far. A wave of honest emotions seemed to overcome him as you remembered, a voice of relief leaving him as your shared past revealed itself to you.

“But… But--” 

So many questions rushed into your head before you could even utter one of them. How much of what happened was coincidental? Was everything planned? Staged? Arranged? Your thoughts must have shown in your gaze, and though he only looked up for a split second, you were sure he noticed it as he chuckled a few times. 

“The truth is, back then, I wanted to kill you. I came back for you every day, and you were always playing in the garden, but your parents were always around watching you.”

Shinsuke sat up straight, instead now pulling you to lean on him and petting your hair. Your instinct detected hostility in his words, yet, your body told you to stay put and not allure him of the fear that crept up in you. You now remembered the silver fox you had met as a little kid, and though the memories were spare and rare, to think you could have died by his maw back then made a cold shudder run down your spine. 

“I didn’t want the humans to find out my clan was in that forest - now, this forest - I knew it would mean that I caused them to have to leave or hunters would come. However, when you did tell--”

“No one believed me…” This time you finished his sentence instead, and Shinsuke nodded. 

“I couldn’t rest, so I came back day after day, until suddenly… you were gone.” 

“Yeah, we flew back home after two weeks,” you mumbled, explaining it to him despite realizing you wished you had kept it a secret. He simply didn’t deserve knowing even a little bit more than necessary.

“Exactly.”

Gently rubbing your back, Shinsuke kissed your hair, his grip on you unbudging, but there was no notion and no feeling of yours that stayed hidden long from him. “Later I found out that the owner of that house - your family’s friends, I reckon? - were aware of us, and their ancestors were granted land from us to build their house in exchange for keeping this village and residents hidden. It’s passed down as a family secret.”

“And then…” For the first time, you sat up, and Shinsuke let you go without a moment of hesitation. Slowly, but surely everything made sense, even if those answers were less relieving than you had hoped. “I bought their house when they became too old to live there. Was that- Was that all planned?”

With your brows furrowing, you looked at his face, and Shinsuke closed his eyes for a moment thoughtfully, humming in contemplation. “Was it? Who knows. Once I learned the truth, I decided you shall be my bride.”

What a dissatisfying answer, you thought, and your expression faltered, body turning away in displeasure. For the first time since you were married, you heard him make a deep sigh, the shuffling of fabric behind you as Shinsuke inched closer, having recognized your defensive stance as telling him you weren’t all too happy with his story. 

“If we say fate brought us together, then destiny arranged everything. But I rather think that it was meant to be. You coming back to me is because we are meant for each other, [Name].”

“I don’t agree,” you muttered, feeling defeated. All this time, you had wondered how and why this all happened to you, but in the end, it really had just been Shinsuke’s doing. Part of you felt more betrayed, but the other half wasn’t actually feeling impressed by the knowledge. Disappointed, but not surprised, as a friend of yours always liked to say. “Then why the contract? Why set me up like this?”

“What do you think? Do you think you would have married me otherwise? Do you not despise me? Think that I am a monster? I think that’s what you called me before.”

The level of self-awareness was nothing you would have expected from him. Instinctively you would have liked to argue against him, but at the same time, his words depicted your feelings quite well. “Maybe I wouldn’t have thought that if you had--”

“[Name], please.” There it was again, the patronizing tone in his voice that had been the end to many of your conversations before. His arms wrapped around you from behind, lips landing at the back of your head as he mumbled into your hair. “I waited for you all this time, and know my feelings. There was simply no need for a year-long courtship and proving what I felt.”

“I could have needed it. Are my feelings that unimportant to you?”

Gripping his arms tightly, you dug your fingers in as best as you could. You had enough. Enough of his will being absolute and everything centering around him. All this misery just because he decided on marrying you long, long ago on his own. For the first time, you managed to pull out of his hold by your own strength, twirling around quicker than him being able to capture you again and complain. 

“You are a monster! I don’t care about your feelings either since you can’t seem to respect mine! I never wanted any of this!”

Gesturing loosely to him and your stomach, you made room for your anger, even getting up to stand your ground properly. You half expected him to follow, but Shinsuke kept sitting comfortable, merely lowering his eyes and shaking his head. “Calm down, [Name]. You’ll wake the whole village with your voice.”

“What if?! As if they didn’t know how I truly feel! As if they didn’t just turn a blind eye on this situation for your sake!”

“Arranged marriages are very common here--”

“But not arranged by the groom himself! And even so, you still forced me into this, I couldn’t even refuse! You… You beast! You monster! You’re the absolute worst being I ever met, and I hate you! I hate you so much!”

Finally, Shinsuke looked up again, his gaze calm and collected as always. It was the last straw that even now, he did not budge from his views, and you decided to do something you had tried to avoid ever since becoming pregnant. Turning on your heel, you marched towards the door, gripping into the depression of the sliding door to open it. As luck would have it, these kinds of doors didn’t have locks. Thus someone usually watched over you, never leaving you alone, but weirdly enough, it didn’t budge no matter how hard you pulled and tore on it, demanding quietly that it would move out of your way.

“[Name] stop. It’s not good for the baby to get so upset,” Shinsuke called after you, and you just knew he was standing up as he spoke, causing more pressure to fall onto your shoulders. You’d run away. No matter the cost, you wouldn’t stay here. Feeling the door heat up, you jumped away from it, shocked, looking at your fingers while eerie, small flames sparked up at the spot you just touched. By now, you were a little too familiar with foxfire and what it felt like, and yet, angry as you were, it only made you spin around to face him, not expecting to have his face right up in yours the moment you turned.

“I said, stop.”

“Then I won’t listen,” you hissed back at him, rubbing your fingers carefully as they trembled in fear. Never before had resisting him done you anything good, but you reached a point of no return. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” Shinsuke instructed again, his patience wearing noticeably thin as you were unbudging. “You go to bed. I am going home.”

Taking a deep breath, he stared you down with those sharp, shining eyes of his, a glare that usually made your knees buckle in fear. You never had given him such a hard time before, normally yielding before it got this far. In some way, it was thrilling, in another, nerve-wracking. 

“I’ll say it only once more,” Shinsuke warned, reaching for your wrist that you pulled away before he could reach it, slapping his hand away in the process. 

“Or what?” you spat at him, as disgusted as you could. This would end here, you decided. All of it: The fake marriage, your submissiveness, the way you played along and embraced your role as his wife until now. The child too, if you got out of this house, this village, and his clutches. 

“You saw the beast before.” Shinsuke spoke his words calm and slow, but his voice lowered dangerously as he kept up his glare unbudgingly. It was just his way of not losing his temper despite you being aware that he wasn’t going to be gentle from this point onwards. There was a never before heard tremble in his voice as he spoke again, the sentence making every inch of you freeze in fear.

Perhaps, you had needed that. One last attempt of being deviant. How else would you have learned that this place might not make you happy, but at least it was the only place that would keep you safe. Safe of Kita Shinsuke’s true nature, the one completely insane from his love for you. How else would you have known that calm waters were the deepest of them all? Deep enough to let you drown in them if you did anything to disturb them?

Maybe, being his wife wasn’t the worst there was. 

“But you haven’t seen the monster yet.”

The worst was Shinsuke himself.

a/n: Thank you for reading Kita’s route of this story, I hope you enjoyed it! I noticed last chapter that it didn’t seem as enjoyable than the Prologues, I still hope that you will move forward to explore the other routes and enjoy this experience ^-^ Let me know what you thought, that would make me very happy ♥

Satisfied?

➤ Go back to the prologue to change your fate

➤ ?

Read other routes first to unlock more fates

[tastyykpop]

Can you make a smut + angst jealousy fic for Ten or Jeno please~ thankiee

I hope this was okay. I made it a best friend au if u don't mind🙈

ɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴅɪsᴀsᴛᴇʀs

Pairings: bestfriend!ten x reader

Genre: smut, angst

Warnings: jealousy, slight d/s themes, slight choking, marking, possessiveness, unprotected sex, creampie, rough ish sex

"What are you doing here?" Ten asks walking into the living room where you sat watching tv. "Thought you had a date with that guy?"

"I did, but he called it off again." You mumbled.

"Again? Isn't this like the hundreth time? What a joke." He plops down on the couch next to you.

You side eye him, ready to question the attitude but chose to close your mouth instead.

Shrugging with a sigh, you bite your lip, "Its nothing. Hes probably busy." You knew that wasn't the case. The two of you were all over the place, it was either you guys flirted and went on dates like couples or he ditched you to do something with his friends and side chicks.

You were basically his fling that somehow dragged on for months. And ten couldnt stand it. Seeing you get beaten down and crushed like an egg made his heart sink. But to be honest, it wasn't like he minded the extra attention. Once you and that guy started talking, you were dragged out of his life and hardly talked to him unless it were times like this or when you bragged about the dude, and if he was lucky, a sleepover that came once in a blue moon. Ten probably shouldn't have felt this way, but he couldn't help his jealousy. He wanted what the guy had. He wanted you.

"Give the bastard up already." Ten says, "All he does is break your heart like its his favorite hobby. Then he has the fucking audacity to get back with you like nothing happened. Open your eyes, y/n, he's not good for you."

You grimaced, looking up at his uncharacteristically fuming face, "You don't know him like I do. He's good to me."

"Oh cut the shit. Stop being so naive."

Glowering at the man, you shake your head, "Im not naive and its not my fault you don't like him."

Ten sighed, "Jeez you can be a bitch sometimes."

"Excuse me!?" Your brows furrow, "Ten, stop acting like a dick. Why can't you support me and my decisions? You always find something to complain about with your overprotective ass."

"He treats you like shit, thats literally all he does and I have to sit here and deal with it." Ten growls.

"Then leave i don't fucking care."

Ten snorts, "Youre kidding. You're gonna push me out of your life just because I'm calling someone out. Well I got a newsflash for you babe, thats not how life works."

"As if youre any better." You mumble, thinking ten couldnt hear you. But you were very wrong.

"I dont have to do a thing to be better than that motherfucker." Ten glares before leaning closer to your face, "I could treat you better than he ever did. Like a fucking goddess, but no, you chose him."

"Youre so fucking annoying, ten." Your eyes met your best friends. This was probably the biggest mistake you've made. So many years you never bothered to say anything about your small crush on ten, afraid it may ruin the friendship between you two. But knowing its mutual, you could practically hear your heart crack. Those wasted months could've been months spent with ten, but they weren't.

Ten stared back into your hurt eyes with no expression except frustration, "Good i can keep going. I could write a whole essay on this loser."

"Ten, shut the fuck up! I'm tired of your fucking voice!"

Immediately ten stops talking. Though hes still frowning like an angered child who didn't get their way.

"God, you can be so frustrating at times." You say.

"Frustrating?? Whats frustrating is you being him and not with me." Ten says, breaking his short silence as his face was still inches away from yours.

Your back is just about touching the arm of the couch, tens breath fanning your face softly making your face heat up ever so slightly.

"Seeing him kiss you, hold you-makes my blood boil more than you think." Finally your body was pinned to the couch, ten just barely hovering over your lips, "Im going to make sure he knows who you belong to after tonight."

You yelped as you best friend clashed his lips into yours, much rougher and desperate than you thought he'd be. His hand snaked up your thigh, grabbing and kneading at the skin before he moved it to your hip, loving the small sighs against his lips.

"Youre so desperate," ten mumbles. He swipes his tongue just over your lips as you find yourself chasing his lips, staring at the string of saliva attached. "I finally get to have my desperate little baby." Your pants were off in a matter of seconds along with your panties. Tens fingers already taking in your soaked cunt as he lifted his two fingers up in front of your face, smirking down at you. "Already dripping too. Can't believe you thought about going out with him when you have me."

"Never knew you could be so jealous." You tore your gaze off his arousal coated fingers. "But I'd wish your shut up about it."

Ten sucks his fingers clean before leaning down to bite your neck, earning a gasp as you tilt your head to the side for him. "Dont push it."

"Can't help it." Sighing at the feeling of his teeth sinking in and the small hickeys he's giving you, you reach up to tangle your fingers through his hair, "Youre mad and jealous just because of some guy."

"Not just some guy, babe. A fucking douche." He lapped over the bruises he created on your neck. The purple and blue color was a work of his own art and he wasn't afraid to show it off to anyone and everyone.

"He was nice."

He arched a brow, "Dont lie."

Soon enough, both of your clothings were discarded. Nothing could turn back whatever was going to happen now, and surely not ten who had his hand wrapped firmly around your neck, squeezing the sides tightly but still enough for you to breathe. And as crazy as it may seem, he loved seeing you gasp and wrap your small hands around his wrists.

You moaned at the sudden fullness at your core, the stretch making your back arched a bit off the couch as you pushed your hips into his. A hand carefully placing itself on your hips, but not bothering to push it down or keep it in place.

Ten wasn't going to waste time, he was already thrusting into you at a reasonable set pace where you both moaned, you being louder than he thought.

"You like it?" Ten chuckles to himself, "Of course you do because I know how to fuck you good." He sent a particularly hard thrust just to hear you scream in pleasure. Your nails clawing at his back causing ten to hiss, throwing his head back.

"Youre the worst." You call out, digging your nails further into his back, sure there will be cuts the next day.

He choked you harder, eyes rolling back from the adrenaline rush, "But you love this cock so much, love how I call you mine and not his. Fuck, I should just fill you up over and over again with my cum." You moan at his words, ignoring that stupid grin on his face, "Want me to fill your pretty pussy up, kitten?" Nodding frantically, you gripped his wrist with both of your hands, feeling your orgasm coming closer with each thrust.

"Feels s-so good." The couch screeched against the wood floor as ten pounded into you with no mercy. Each vein of his cock made your walls tighten around him as you got near. " 'm gonna cum."

As if he couldn't move faster, ten surprised you when your body banged against the armrest, desperate for you to cum around him. "Cum, baby. I wanna feel your cum."

You didn't need to be told twice. Everything came rushing out of you an instant, body shaking as ten continued with stuttering thrusts before he finally released inside you, mixing your cum together as he slowly fucked it back inside you, finally pulling out.

"Stay away from him for God's sake." he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. "Or dont, I wouldn't mind him seeing the mess I made."

[seijorhi]

hello, i love your writing and was hoping if u could write a yandere kuroo x reader where he corners her in a corner and kenma is there and is getting off from it 😳 thank u !

Asdfghjkl this was supposed to be posted on Sunday I’m sorry, bby!! I hope it’s worth the wait! 💕 also, loved this request so thanks for sending it in 😊

Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader, Kenma Kozume x Female Reader

TW dub con, coercion (kinda?), stalking, humiliation

Helping Hand

There’s a certain peace you find in the looming stacks of the library after the sun sets. It’s quieter then, less people milling about. You don’t have to fight for space or books, and considering you have midterms soon and essays coming out of your ears, that makes it the perfect study environment.

It’s only a little after eight, the library’s still open for another two and a half hours, but on the fourth floor it’s almost a ghost town - just how you like it. There’s a professor tucked away in the back corner, piles of books built up around him, an older librarian with her trolley, slowly re-shelving books, and two other guys around your age sitting huddled at a table a few down from yours - the textbooks and highlights spread across their desk having been long since abandoned in favour of literally anything else.

Honestly, you’d wonder why they’d bother coming to the library at all if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence. Most days you were there, so were they - usually together, although it wasn’t uncommon to see just one of them camped out between the stacks as you made your way to your desk. The duo, one tall and lean with a shock of messy dark hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the other smaller, more reserved, with bleached hair and dark roots in serious need of a touch up, seemed to prefer this time to study too - not that they ever seemed to actually do all that much studying.

Usually the blonde ends up absorbed in his switch while the other casually thumbs through whichever book is closest.

So long as they were quiet and didn’t disturb you, who were you to judge?

You don’t really remember when they’d started to appear, only that they’d quickly become a fixture in your refuge - distantly familiar presences like strangers travelling on the same bus to work each day. They smile (well, the dark haired one does) and nod whenever you happen to look up from your notes and catch their eye, and while you’ve only spoken a handful of words to the both of them, they always seemed nice. 

Nicer than the clearly overworked professor muttering away in the corner at any rate, which makes them the logical choice to approach when you find your bladder uncomfortably full halfway through your self imposed study session. Realistically, you know at this time of the night nobody else is likely to make their way up to the fourth floor, much less have any interest in your shitty, old laptop or the five whole dollars in your wallet - yet you find you making your way over to the twosome’s table anyway, a faint blush dusting across your cheeks.

“… don’t want to,” you overhear the blonde mutter, his attention wholly focused upon the game in his hands. “Things are fine, why change that?”

His friend sighs, “Because you can deny it all you want, but I know you better than that. I know I’m not the only one who wants more. You can’t just sit back and…” he trails off suddenly, hazel eyes flickering over to you in surprise. 

Confused by his friend’s sudden silence, the blonde lowers his game and glances up - only to still at the sight of you.

You swallow down your nerves, plastering what you hope is a friendly enough smile across your face, “Hi, uh… sorry to interrupt you guys, but would you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom? I won’t be long or anything, I just don’t like leaving my stuff out in the open,” you say with a sheepish laugh, well aware that you’re rambling like an idiot. 

It’s the dark haired one who answers, a wide grin breaking across his face as he nods, “Yeah, no worries. We’d be glad to.”

You smile back, ignoring the faint fluttering in your stomach (he does look kind of cute grinning like that), thanking him again before rushing away in the direction of the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift away from the duo back to the essay you’re mid-way through drafting. You have a sinking feeling that the argument you’re trying to use in the fourth paragraph is essentially a just rehash of the point you made in the first. By the time you unlock the stall door and make your way over to the sink to wash your hands, you’re starting to debate the merits of scrapping the whole thing and starting fresh with new ideas.

You still technically have time, it’s not due until the end of the month, but you just kind of want it done so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Then again, that’s kind of your feelings towards the semester as a whole. 

Who are you kidding? University’s kicking your ass this year.

The ancient hand dryer’s almost deafening as it clicks on - it masks the sound door swinging open and the footsteps that echo out from the tile floors.

It’s only when your eyes flicker up to mirror that you see that you’re no longer alone-

Standing right behind you is the guy from before; the tall, dark haired one. 

- and jerk in surprise, stumbling backwards with a choked yelp.

It doesn’t hit you right away - no, that’s relief that has you drawing a hand over your chest and letting out a shaking laugh. “You scared the hell out of me!” you say, bracing yourself over the sink to try and calm your breathing.

No, it doesn’t hit you quickly. Realisation is slow - creeping through your veins like ice as your eyes flicker back up the mirror. 

He hasn’t moved. 

He’s smiling, grinning really, but there’s something… something off about it. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes… Why isn’t he saying anything?

W-why isn’t he moving away?

Your heart, still hammering from his shock of his sudden appearance, squeezes uncomfortably and your eyes slowly widen.

“Wh-”

A rough, calloused palm slaps across your mouth, smothering whatever words you’d been about to speak. “Ah, ah. Gotta keep it down, sweetheart.”

He winks at you in the mirror, taking a tiny step towards you and you squeak, breathing in sharp, shallow pants through your nose as a warm, muscled chest presses against your back. “You’re a nervous little thing, aren’tcha?” he chuckles. “Relax a little - promise I don’t bite.”

With one hand wrapped around your lips the other creeping across your waist, his words don’t exactly bring you a lot of comfort. 

It makes no difference either way - you’re paralysed, shaking and trembling, but utterly unable to move as he noses at the column of your throat, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You could scream, but there’s no guarantee anybody would hear you. You could try and fight him off, but he’s taller than you, and you’re willing to bet stronger as well.

Will he hurt you if you try and resist?

Is he gonna hurt you anyway?

You’ve heard the stories before about men who follow women into empty bathrooms and the awful things they do, but you never...

Those things don’t happen in places like this. The library is supposed to be safe, he- he’s been-

Your stomach drops.

Weeks. 

He’s been visiting the library with his friend, sitting across from you for weeks.

His eyes bore into your reflection in the mirror like he can hear every terrified thought that passes through your head, and with excruciating slowness you’re forced to watch as his lips brush a kiss against your cheek, lingering and sweet - a mockery of tenderness. 

A scared little whimper is all you can manage, and even that is swallowed up by the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open once more. 

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.

A faint burst of hope flickers to life.

You might not be a fighter, but this might be the only chance you have. You shriek again, the sound woefully muffled, and writhe against your captor’s tightening grip as slow footsteps round the corner.

Please, you think as tears stream silently down your face. Please help me.

What little hope you have is quickly - brutally - extinguished as your would be saviour steps into view.

Your legs shake and you’re almost positive that if it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapped around you, you would have crumpled to the floor.

It’s his friend, the blonde, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching the scene before him - you struggling against an iron grip, gagged and terrified - like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 

Your captor chuckles, relaxing his grip as his hand drifts upwards to palm at your breast and you want to die. “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” the blonde groans as he makes his way over, but he barely glances at his friend before his catlike eyes come to rest on you.

Your cheeks are burning, a potent mix of shame, nausea and dread churning in your stomach as you’re crudely felt up, but under the blonde’s attention you freeze.

While his face is a blank mask of apathetic disinterest, those golden irises are piercing in their intensity as they study you.

The glint in his eyes is as unmistakable as it is stark; anticipation - like a house cat watching a golden canary flit restlessly in its cage.

The hiccuping sob comes unbidden, choking at your throat as you wail against the palm at your lips. You’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your entire life, to slap yourself awake and realise that it’s nothing but a stress induced nightmare because this can’t be happening.

Why you?

What could you possibly have done to deserve this?

“Relax,” Kuroo repeats, leaning down over you again, “we’re not gonna hurt you. Just wanna have some fun, that’s all.” You think he’s going to try and kiss you again, but instead his tongue darts out and he licks at the silvery tear tracks, groaning softly.

You shoot the quiet blonde a desperate, pleading look. He hasn’t lifted a finger to stop what’s happening, hasn’t done anything other than stare at you, but even as his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile you hold out on the shadow of a prayer that maybe, just maybe-

Kuroo follows your wide, panicked gaze and almost snorts. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, baby. Kenma’s not gonna help you. He wants this just as badly as I do.” His thumb slides across your cheek, brushing away more tears, “C’mon, on your knees.”

He doesn’t give you a choice - the hand on your shoulder forces your shaking knees to buckle and you fall down to the bathroom floor.

The tiles are cold against your bare legs, but the shivers that wrack through you have little to do with the temperature. It’s far too late to regret the short skirt you’d thrown on that morning.

Kuroo hums appreciatively, lifting his palm to tap it a few times against your cheek like you’re an adorable little puppy who’s just learned its first trick, “It’s a good look for you, baby, but I think it’d be even better without this-” his fingers tug at the collar of your top and his grin widens, “- in the way.” 

Yet he makes no move to take it off for you. One look into his eyes, the glittering amusement darkened with lewd desire and you know that he won’t.

He wants you to do it, to play along in their fun - to be an active participant in your own humiliation.

And really, what other choice do you have?

It’s impossible to ignore the bulge straining against his jeans as your trembling fingers grip the hem of your top and reluctantly yank it upwards. There’s a sharp inhale - Kuroo you think - and a whistle as it comes off, baring your lacy bra and the soft skin underneath to their hungry gazes. 

Only for a moment. 

Staring resolutely at the floor you’re quick to try and cover what little modesty you have left, bringing your arms up to wrap around your chest-

Except a hand catches at your wrist and tugs it back, and when you glance up you find it’s Kenma’s. 

“… Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

You let your arms drop, hands clenching into shaking fists in your lap, fingernails biting into your palm.

The sound of a zipper being pulled undone is almost deafening in the quiet bathroom. Fresh tears sting at your eyes, but you can’t bear to look at either of them as Kuroo reaches inside his pants and frees his cock.

The hand that cups your cheek is surprisingly gentle as he coaxes your face back towards him and the achingly hard member in his grip. “See Kenma, I told you - change ain’t always a bad thing.”

His dark eyes flicker back to you and he grins, “Open up, sweetheart.”

[wizkiddx]

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?” 

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 

“You good?” His answer was predictable. 

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt. 

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 

[sleepysnk]

have fun ;)

Team Player: Chapter Nine

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: suggestive content

Word Count: 3.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Eren sat next to (Y/N) in the class they shared together. It was an early morning and the two both felt exhausted. The two planned overnight on what they were going to practice at the field, Eren had access since he was an athlete, but the two had to be quick. Campus security was strict on any students out past curfew. 

"So what time again?" Eren asked, looking over at her. 

Her eyes averted towards his. "I have class until 7, so I can go right after." she replied.

He nodded. "Sounds good.. come by my dorm and I'll give you a ball and we can practice," he said, a small smile growing on his face as his mind flashed images of the two playing catch. 

"Ugh! What if I suck? I guarantee I can barely throw a football," she said, rolling her eyes. 

He put his hand on her shoulder. "You got this! I believe in you (Y/N),"

Her cheeks grew hot from his touch and his words. Eren had an odd way of making her feel flustered. 

"I'll try my best to believe that.." she mumbled before looking up at the front of the class where Professor Ackerman stood. 

"Good morning.. today is going to be a pretty short lesson. I'll be releasing you all early today, so I hope you cooperate for this to go smoothly." he said, eyes roaming among the students. 

(Y/N) sighed, taking out her laptop to take notes. Eren did the same, he watched as she chewed her lip. For some reason, he always liked when she bit her lip, it was something he found.. attractive? 

"Eren." 

His eyes looked towards the front of the class where Professor Ackerman was staring at him. 

"U-Uh.. yes?" he asked, nodding his head. 

The stoic man sighed. "I get you think (Y/N) is cute, but please pay attention." he replied, turning back towards the board. 

Eren's face grew pink as he felt many eyes staring at him, (Y/N)'s being one of them. 

"Yeah Eren.." she whispered, giggling a bit at his cuteness. 

He rolled his eyes before elbowing her side, causing a small yelp to escape her lips. She glared at him and returned back to her notes, a wide grin appearing on his features. He just loved messing with her. 

Eren ended up zoning out while taking notes. His mind wandered to other things like football, sleep, (Y/N), wait what?

"Eren!" 

He turned his head to meet her gaze, she was putting her stuff away. "Class is over, come on," she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

He blinked for a moment before putting his stuff into his bag. 30 minutes really flashed like that? 

"I barely paid attention to what he was saying.." Eren said, rubbing his tired eyes. 

She exited the classroom with him by her side. "Trust me.. I don't understand Ackerman much either. Sasha had him and almost failed his class," she replied, nudging his arm a bit. 

A smile grew onto his lips. "Yeah I guess he is…" he said, turning his head to look at her. 

There was that stare again.

His eyes wandered to the small features of her face, (Y/N) was so pretty to him. 

"Do you wanna head to your dorm? You know.. to pick up the football?" she asked, breaking his thoughts. 

"Y-Yeah! Let's go," he replied, heading towards the exit of the campus building. 

She followed him to his residence hall. Eren was walking pretty quickly, curse him and his long legs. (Y/N) slowly caught up, grabbing his arm in the process. 

"Slow down! I almost lost you there," she said, trying to catch her breath. 

Pink dusted onto his cheeks. "My bad! I'll slow down.." he muttered before opening the door to his building.

She rolled her eyes before following him down the hall to his dorm, she had only been to his dorm about once. The one time she helped him clean it. She silently prayed she wasn't this gross guy who just dirtied his room after cleaning it, that would for sure disappoint her. 

He opened it and ushered her inside, her eyes scanned the room. He still kept it neat, surprisingly.

"I should have one around here somewhere," Eren said, opening his drawer. He dug around the dresser for a moment before pulling out the football. "Here ya go!"

He tossed it to her, she caught it and eyed the ball. She hadn't touched one in a pretty long time. 

"So 7:30 right?" she said, looking at him. 

He smiled, "Yeah for sure! I'll text you when I'm on my way," he replied. 

She nodded, "Sounds good! I'll see you then. I gotta head to my next class.. so uh, I'll text you!" she said before heading towards the door. 

He waved, "See you later!" 

She made her way out of his dorm. Eren smiled to himself, (Y/N) was such a cute idiot. He couldn't get over it, the way she eyed the football made him happy, she looked so cute. 

Maybe tonight would go well… maybe, just maybe, Eren could see her as more than a friend. 

-

Eren was awoken in his dorm by his phone going off. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was dark out. He could faintly see the lights from the campus shining into his room, lighting up the walls.

A groan escaped his mouth as he grabbed his phone, Jean was calling him for some reason. 

"Hello?" Eren said, his voice deep and groggy from sleep. 

"Finally! Dude I've called you like four times! Were you sleeping?" Jean asked over the phone. 

He rubbed his tired eyes, "Yeah I was.. what do you want though? Where are you?" he asked. He could faintly hear some background noise.

"I'm at Connie's frat right now! You should come by! This party is getting pretty lit, plus you have been laying low on partying anyway," Jean replied. 

Eren looked at the time on his phone, it read 7:00. 

He contemplated for a moment, would going out partying even be worth it? He had been kind of low on the party scene lately, it may help him feel a bit better. 

"Fine… I'll be there in 10," he replied, sitting up on his bed. 

"Sick! I'll see you then!" Jean replied before hanging up the phone with a click. 

Eren sighed, he stood up and turned on the light to his room. He put on a black zip up hoodie and some grey sweatpants, he wasn't exactly looking to impress and do much. Maybe a few shots and that's all? Plus it was a Wednesday night. 

As Eren exited his dorm, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something. Did he have assignments? No. Practice? No. He wasn't exactly sure what was missing, he just shrugged it off and made his way to the frat house. 

Little did he know… he was forgetting something.

-

Eren downed his third shot that night, the burning of the alcohol went down his throat and to his stomach. He placed the glass onto the table, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. 

"You want another?" Connie asked, holding the bottle towards him. 

Eren shook his head, "Nah.. I'm good."

He felt a weight next to him, Jean was sitting next to him now. His face was lightly pink from the alcohol he consumed earlier, Jean was such a lightweight drunk. 

"So Jaeger when are you even coming back on the team? You've been benched for weeks," he asked, looking at him.

Eren sighed, "I dunno.. maybe if coach actually listened to me." he replied with a shrug. 

Jean slung his arm around his shoulder, "You got this! I think you'll be back soon," he slurred. 

Eren pushed Jean off of him, "You smell like beer dude, go somewhere else." 

He furrowed his brows, "Shut it! You seem grumpy.. did (Y/N) stop letting you hit or something?" Jean asked, crossing his arms. 

Eren's eyes grew wide at Jean's words.

Shit!

"Oh shit.. fuck! (Y/N)!" Eren yelled.

"Huh? Is everything okay Eren?" Connie asked, looking at him with furrowed brows.

He fumbled for his phone, the time read 8:20. It all hit him at once. Eren was supposed to be at the field practicing with her, it totally slipped his mind! He also noticed the missed texts and phone calls he had from her. 

(Y/N): 9 missed calls

7:02 <-(Y/N): hey i'm done with class!

7:10 <-(Y/N): uh hello? did you fall asleep?

7:19 <-(Y/N): Eren??? dude i'm at the field

7:21 <-(Y/N): dude seriously, where are you?

7:32 <-(Y/N): Eren, i'm not playing anymore. where are you??? you were supposed to be here.

7:41 <-(Y/N): wtf dude?? are you seriously ditching me?? this isn't funny Eren.

7:49 <-(Y/N): i'm giving you 15 more minutes if you're not gonna show up, i'm leaving.

8:01<-(Y/N): okay cool. ignore me, thanks for being an asshole. i thought you were cool but i guess people never change huh? don't even bother coming.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I gotta go, see you guys later." Eren said before rushing up the stairs out of the basement. 

Eren rushed out of the frat house, he pushed past a few people and got outside. The wind picked up as he rushed towards the campus, he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing that he forgot. He felt so guilty, that was fucked up for him to do. 

In the distance storm clouds brewed, lightning flared in the sky lighting up the darkening clouds. Thunder boomed in the horizon as the wind began to blow around the fall leaves. 

Just what I need, a fucking storm Eren thought as he rushed to the practice fields. 

The bright lights were still on, unfortunately Eren didn't see (Y/N). He looked around the field, maybe she was in her car? 

Eren fished for his phone to call her. "Come on pick up.." he groaned, looking around the empty field. The wind blowing in his hair. 

"So.. you finally decided to show up."

He turned to see (Y/N) leaning against the small bench, her arms crossed. 

"(Y/N)! I-I'm.. I didn't mean-"

"Just save it. I don't wanna hear your excuses," she cut him off. 

Eren tried coming towards her, "I'm sorry! I didn't get your texts and everything slipped my mind!" 

She rolled her eyes, "You left me here for an hour! I genuinely thought you were a nice guy.. but I guess some people never change. Just do this all yourself." she replied, tossing the football at him. 

He watched as she began to walk away, the storm in the distance beginning to get closer. He ran towards her, grabbing her forearm. 

"(Y/N).. please don't go, there is a storm right now and I don't want you walking by yourself." he said, looking at her with concern in his eyes. 

She tried pulling away from him, "Eren just go! You clearly don't give a shit, just go back to your stupid party. I could care less.." she mumbled. 

The crash of the thunder made him look up at the sky, "(Y/N)! I'm being serious! We need to go inside, just come with me okay!?" he yelled. 

She scoffed, "Just fuck off dude! Let me go back to my dorm!" she argued back. 

Eren was beginning to get frustrated with her, "I already explained! I get what I did wasn't cool! Just stop fucking around and let's go! The dorms are so far and you'll be walking in the rain, just come with me already!" he replied. 

Droplets of water began to fall from the sky, darkening the material of Eren's clothes. Lightning flashed along the sky and thunder followed soon after, booming and rumbling making the ground slightly shake. 

"No! Just let me go back by myself, I don't need your fucking help. You're such an ass! I wish I never helped you, God, I was so dumb to even think you changed!" she yelled as the rain pelted down on them. 

He stayed silent, the rain hitting his head and making his hair wet. It soon began to fall at a quicker pace. 

"I'm leaving.." she mumbled before starting to turn away. 

Suddenly, Eren grabbed her arm and put his hand behind her head, pulling her into a kiss. At first she didn't move, then her lips suddenly began to move against his. Her arms went to his neck. 

The rain fell onto them, soaking their clothes and making the ground below them wet. The kiss they shared was raw, passionate, and it broke the tension they've been having for the past two weeks. 

"Just shut up (Y/N).." he said before pressing his lips back onto hers. 

His arms snaked around her waist, bringing her closer to his skin. She shivered a bit as the wind blew against her wet flesh. 

"E-Eren.." she said, breaking the kiss between them. Her lips puffy. 

He looked up at the sky, "Let's go.. we're gonna get sick," he said. 

He took her hand into his, her cheeks growing hot as he guided her through the wet field and towards the locker rooms. Eren had snuck a key and he always kept it on him just in case he ever needed a way back into school, he silently hoped (Y/N) wouldn't tell anyone. 

He slid the key inside of the lock and turned it a few times, he felt the click of the lock and pulled the door open so she could step inside the locker room. Nobody would be around at this hour so nobody would catch them.

(Y/N) shivered entering the locker room, both of their clothes were soaking wet; the cooler air made goosebumps form onto Eren's skin. 

"Just sit right here," Eren said, pointing at a spot in front of his locker. 

(Y/N) plopped down, the sound of her wet leggings hitting the surface of the bench. Her hair was soaking, so was her outfit, she had no idea how she was going to explain this to Sasha. 

Eren walked into the showers, his eyes scanning for the towels they kept for the players. He opened the door to the closet and grabbed two of the white ones, he hoped nobody would notice they were missing since his coach kept count of all that shit. 

The squelching of Eren's shoes made (Y/N) look up, he tossed her the towel before sitting down next to her. 

"I'm sorry again.. if you don't want to help anymore, you don't have to." he said, looking at her. 

She rubbed the material along her face and through her hair. A sigh escaping her lips before she spoke, "I'm not gonna stop helping you.. that's not who I am, but I wish I got some kind of heads up." 

Eren nodded, wiping some water off his face. "That's my fault and I'm sorry for that," he replied. 

She looked at the ground. "You're forgiven.. but Eren," she said, looking at him. 

His eyes averted towards her, his head nodding to the side. "Hm?" he asked.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. "Why did you kiss me?"

Eren let out air through his nose, he leaned against the lockers behind him. His back pressing against a lock, why did he kiss her? Was it just the heat of the moment? Did he want to release the tension they had? 

He clicked his tongue, "Being honest.. I don't know. I guess in a way.. I like you, I hate to admit it but I do," he said. 

Her eyes widened a little, Eren Jaeger liked her? She wasn't exactly upset.. she felt the same way and it was blatantly obvious at that point since she did lean into the kiss and she could feel the tension between them the last few weeks. 

"E-Eren.." she whispered. 

He looked at her, "What? I know you don't like me back," he mumbled.

She stuck out her hand to touch his face which was now dry, her fingers ran along his skin. "I do like you.." 

He froze for a second, she was never one to tell a lie and by the way she spoke he could tell she was being truthful with him. 

He turned his body to face her, their knees were now touching and tingles came from the touch. Eren's hand found its way to her cheek, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a few stray rain drops that laid on her skin. 

Their faces leaned into one another, their lips connecting into a kiss. 

Her hands found their way into Eren's damp brunette locks, pulling him down closer to her. Eren's hand found its way to her waist where he squeezed the flesh, some of the material of her shirt was damp and it made his hands wet. 

"I want you.." Eren whispered, his breath uneven. 

She looked into his eyes. "I want you more.." 

His hands went towards her thighs, his fingers rubbing circles on the skin; it made her jolt a bit. 

"You like that huh..?" he asked with a smirk forming on his features. 

She playfully smacked his arm. "Oh shut up," she replied, her eyes rolling. 

He smirked before moving his head to her neck, he pressed his lips against her skin; his lips were hot, almost feverish. They attacked her neck making her skin feel warm. 

A soft moan escaped her mouth feeling his tongue glide against her sweet spot, he was about to bite down when a buzzing broke him out of his thoughts. 

(Y/N) slightly groaned when she reached in her pocket for her phone. Eren leaned away and furrowed his brows, pondering as to who could be calling right now. 

"Hello?" she said, chewing her bottom lip. 

"(Y/N)!? Hello!? Dude I've been texting you for an hour! Where are you? It's storming like crazy outside and I knew you were out with Eren, is everything okay?" 

She instantly knew it was Sasha. 

She sighed, "Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine Sasha. Eren took me to his dorm, we actually got rained on. I'll be back soon," she replied, her eyes wandering towards Eren who seemed unfazed. 

She could hear Sasha chewing on food. "Okay! Have fun! I'll see you soon," she said. 

(Y/N) hung up and placed her phone down next to her leg. "Sorry about that," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. 

Eren chuckled, "You're fine.. I think we should get back anyway, I don't want the janitor to come and find us here," he replied before standing up. 

He held out his hand for her and she took it with a smile on her face, she shivered a bit since her clothes were still somewhat wet from being outside in the rain. Eren took notice of this and went to his locker.

"Hold on a sec," he said, making (Y/N) stop in her tracks. 

She nodded as she watched him unlock his locker, he grabbed what seemed to be a hoodie. It had the University colors on it. He slammed his locker before locking it up and turning towards her. 

"You should take this.. it's really cold and I don't want you getting sick," he said, holding out the fabric for her. 

Her cheeks grew hot, but she just took the sweater from him. "Thank you.." she said, holding it close to her chest. 

He smiled, "Of course! Now let me take you back to the dorms, it's the least I can do." 

She smiled before following Eren out of the locker room. 

-

The long walk back to (Y/N)'s dorm was quite fun, the two had encountered a few professors along the way and they had to hide in bathrooms to make sure they wouldn't get caught. 

It was something (Y/N) wasn't used to, she was always staying out of trouble and she was seen as a good girl most of the time. Eren found that to be quite amusing, regarding the circumstances anyway. 

He leaned against the wall that was next to her dorm door. "So uh.. tonight was something," he said, chuckling a bit.

(Y/N) giggled, "It definitely was.. but I had a lot of fun. Even if I'm freezing right now," she replied. 

Eren looked at her, "I- uh.. I hope you know I meant what I said about liking you.. I really do and I want to be more than just a friend to you," he said, his cheeks slightly pink. 

She looked at the ground before looking back up at Eren. "I meant what I said too.. I do like you, Eren."

"I mean.. by the way you moaned earlier.." he smirked. 

She smacked his arm again. "Oh shut it! I'll kick your ass, but anyway.. I do want to have something more," she said, rocking on her heels. 

Eren smiled, "Sounds good.. can I kiss you again?" he asked. 

She nodded her head before leaning into his face again, Eren put his hands onto her shoulders giving them a small squeeze before pulling away. 

"Kissing you hits different," he whispered before kissing her cheek. 

Her cheeks were hot, "You're such a dork.. goodnight Eren!" she said, putting her hand on the knob of the door. 

He chuckled, "Goodnight (Y/N)."

Eren walked back to his dorm with a giant grin on his face, he felt like he just won a game just now; but this time.. he won something special. (Y/N).

tagging: @ererokii @eremiie @erensapologist @luvrboykento @callmepromise @katsuhera @moomii-hime @flam3bird @thicmitten @daughter-of-the-stars11 @just-a-little-sad @lunamoonawatcher @sofi-yeager @ryan249057 @chayauwu @bell0214 @jaegercult

[froog-water]

howdy y'all, again! 

just quickly before the chapter starts, i wanted to say a HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who reads this! i have received a lot of support for this thing (more than i had hoped) and i am beyond grateful for it!

again, if there are any mistakes in this chapter, just hmu and i will fix it. i am just tired rn :)

also, slight warning for the beginning of the chapter, there are vivid descriptions of blood and gore and death. but nothing really troubling past that ;P

be safe out there my friends and thank you again

Upwards Over the Mountain

(Bloodhound x Reader)

previous; Chapter 2

Winter is in full swing and the entire world is covered in a thick blanket of white snow and eternal cold. For the most part, you had forgotten all about Bloodhound and the stranger circumstance of your meeting. Because there was not much for a bunch of fishermen and farmers to do during the stagnant times of chill, your bar had become a most frequented hotspot for these idle workers meaning you had very little time to yourself. Busy hands kept your mind busy too and soon some, if not most, of that night had been pushed back to the recesses of your consciousness.  It also did not help that they never took you up on your offer of returning to the bar. They retreated back into being merely a story to you, a faint memory of a person long moved on. You could hardly even remember if it had even really happened at all. Oh well, you supposed they had better things to do.

Early morning light was barely seeping in through your bedroom window when you managed to open your eyes. Groggily you yawn and stretch and slowly go to open the curtains. Greeting you was the pleasant sight of a land half-asleep, the sky a brilliant warm pink despite the rest being draped in an unimaginable freeze. Your breath collected as fog on the frozen glass and tentatively you reach out to touch it. It was a lovely morning indeed and it would have stayed that way had you not looked up into the sky.

In the distance, large birds circled. Tiredness shifts to dread as you adjust your eyes to try to get a better look. Those were no ordinary birds, you remark taking note of how large their bodies were and of the swooping patterns of their flight. Those were scavenging birds. And there is only one thing to bring scavengers out during Winter.

You dress quickly, putting on your best and thickest jacket and pants, before grabbing your hunter's knife and bow. Andante was a man of many talents, most of which he passed on to you. One of those talents was his hunting skills. The summer before his knees went, was spent mostly out in the heart of the wild woods. It was an interesting experience, to say the least, and though you were nowhere near what could be considered good, you understood the basics of the hunt and of the weapons you wielded and you knew how to read signs. Signs like scavenger birds circling in the sky. Signs like there was something dying.

Into the snow you run without much of a second thought, your head locked upwards as you follow the shapes of the birds eyeing their next meal. What confused you most about this strange encounter was not the presence of the birds themselves, but the proximity that they were to you and the rest of the town. This was wild country, home of beasts and lands untamed and untouched by man’s iron hand. That much you knew, encounters like this were commonplace if you dared to leave the safety of human comforts. But you were not out in the uncomfortable forest which meant that whatever had caught the bird's attention was either very far from home or of a more concerning matter.

You edge into the outskirts of the white forest, the trees around you nothing more than empty sticks bearing only wind and ice. Overhead, the birds caw and swoop and through the boney fingers of branches, you can see that they are getting lower. You had to move quickly before they did. As you go deeper in, approaching what you assumed to be the border of someone's field, you hear something. Faintly, carried on the morning breeze, was the mewling of an animal. Your pace quickens and quietens as you zone in on the source, painfully aware of how loud the snow was underfoot but pushing on regardless. The relief that you had felt at knowing it was not a person in danger eases some of your mounting anxieties and offers you momentary strength to continue on in pursuit. If given the choice, you would have gladly left whatever animal lay in wait to its own devices, you had no business intruding in on their affairs - your presence would only bring them distress no matter your intentions. But something about this situation told you otherwise and guided your feet to where you would most certainly be needed. On the outskirts of a clearing, you spot something and crouch behind a leafless brush.

There before you, not even 20 meters away, was a fallen elk. You swallow down your gasp and try to focus over the noise of your beating heart, which becomes only louder as you start to take in the entire situation. The animal has toppled over a wired fence of some farmer's land, its hind leg still entangled and bleeding from its restraints, held high above the rest of its body at an uncomfortable angle. From its bloody mouth, it screamed weakly, puffs of dying hot breath escaping with the haunting noise. Your first guess was that this misdirected elk had simply gotten itself stuck in the fence, a most unfortunate event but not entirely implausible, but upon closer inspection at the rest of its heaving body, your guess died on your tongue.

Horrible, long gashes run down the length of the animal's side, pooling blood into the snow around it turning white to red. Its powerful neck was sliced deep in odd places and one of its front legs looked twisted or broken. This creature had not done this kind of destruction to itself - it was attacked. By something. You slowly turn your head around to scan the morning shadows of the forest clearing for any glowing eyes of an animal on the hunt. But there was no predator to be found. There would be none of course, because if there was such a predator here, then why would it not have killed its prey by now? Animals do not find enjoyment in torture and no man, you hoped, would ever do such heinous crimes to such innocent life. For now, at least, it was only you and the elk and the circling, hungry birds.

The elk cries again and you notice how its kicks have become lethargic and stifled by freezing joints and waning energy. It was suffering. Without much debate you ready an arrow in your bow, pulling taut the string with trained proficiency. You whisper to yourself a prayer, hoping that it would only take one arrow to kill the poor thing. You line your aim up, try to cease the shaking in your hands and shoulders, breathing deeply. Your arrow flies prematurely and misses its target, rather than piercing its skull you instead strike it in its neck, right behind its ear. The thing wails, although much softer and with more subtle movements - you must have hit its spine. Seizing the opportunity, you rush forward, ignoring the lurching of your stomach and pulling out your knife. Without a moment's hesitation, you drive it deep into the elk’s heart, right to the hilt of the blade. A little excessive, you deride, but a necessity given your previous inability to finish it quickly.

The thing stops moving. The pained cries fade off into the cold wind. You are left alone with your thoughts and the smell of fresh blood. Beneath your hands the elk lay motionless, its beautiful, soft fur a gentle texture against your trembling form. Andante had made sure that you had killed a few animals before he had honored you with a knife of your own. Still, experience did not dull the sharp sting of shock nor quell the rising weight in your chest. It was suffering, you reminded yourself, lightly dragging your fingers down the side of the animal's large and strong back.

These elk were beautiful creatures, graceful and nimble; they pranced through the wilderness in powerful, delicate strides showcasing the ultimate wonder of the natural world. You had encountered a herd of them once, all the while mesmerized as they strode past your hiding spot without a care in the world. It was quite distressing to see one now crumpled and lifeless. Emptiness sits heavy in your chest and though you know you are not going to throw up, the pressure erupts and you fall to your knees. A red hand clasps the arrow lodged deep in the neck of the animal and sharply pulls it out. You blink hard but cannot stop the tears that threaten to burn your eyes.

It was an animal. It was suffering. You did the right thing.

From somewhere behind you, the softest snow crunches, and your pity party abruptly ends as you draw another arrow and spin around. For a few tense seconds, your fingers quiver around the bow’s string, ready to shoot down if you so dared it. You only hesitate when you finally recognize the figure.

Bloodhound quietly raises both their gloved hands, fingers spread apart in an unarmed, peaceful gesture. You remain poised a moment longer until your eyes start to prick with new tears and you are forced to look away. You drop your arrow and turn back around to the elk, furiously trying to wipe your face with the clean sleeve of your jacket. Now, this was a predicament. What god had you spite so hard to deserve this kind of cruelty? True embarrassment blends with your established disgust and you fear now you may really throw up. Here was a true hunter, a beast born in blood and forged to kill. And here also was you, wallowing in pity. If only you could sink into the floor.

You can hear Bloodhound approach and soon feel their impending presence standing right next to you, taking in the sight of the poor thing on the ground. No one spoke, only the wind dared whisper in the dead world around you. The silence was stretching on for far too long and you knew you had to break it before it became too uncomfortable.

“I’m…” You sniffle hard, trying to force strength into your voice knowing full well that you had very little left to offer. You cough and stand up straight. “I’m not going to do you the dishonor and assume this was your kill.” You say, your voice somehow managing to sustain itself despite your state. Bloodhound does not respond right away, instead, they remain motionless, eyes scanning every detail of the elk and committing it to memory. You shake loose the last of your unstable emotions and grab ahold of your knife again. You move to the elk’s tangled leg and set to work cut free the wires.

“You cry for the animal.” Bloodhound finally speaks, sounding more like an observation rather than a question. With your attention focused on your task, you manage to answer in a more steady and calm attitude.

“Yes.” This was your admission of guilt, not just to Bloodhound but to yourself as well. God, how pathetic you were. “Yes, I cried. I know it is natural. That this is how it is meant to be but,” You hesitate, your lapse in concentration misguiding your knife and almost slicing the tip of our index finger. “This is not a hunt nor a kill. This poor creature was driven away from its home and family and pushed to our borders by some deranged and cruel beast. This is not natural. It was not killed to feed mouths. It was tortured. And it died confused and alone.” The leg snaps free from the wired fence and you wipe your blade clean on the snowy floor, ugly red stains being the only reminder of your deed.

“There is no shame in veeping.” Bloodhound murmurs a brash reassurance and kneels down, tracing their fingers from the elk’s wounds. “Vhat did this?”

“My guess is,” You state taking a step back and allowing Bloodhound to proceed with whatever they were wanting to do with the body, “A few years back, an illegal trading ship hit a bit of trouble just beyond our planet's frontier and had to quickly dump its cargo on the East mountains. Some of that cargo was the creatures we call ‘Shrieks’. They are alien to this ecosystem but even though they are terribly small and their numbers were minimal, they dominated the local wildlife - killing not just for food but for fun. The town’s people tried to cull some of their numbers but,” You explanation stutters off and you hastily take in a sharp breath, the icy air burning your nose and lungs. “Well, they could not get them all. It appears now that they are growing in size again. And in courage.”

Bloodhound does not respond, their attention wholly directed at the study of the animal. You wait a moment longer, the adrenaline of the moment finally ebbing off and allowing the freezing cold to seep into your bones. You shiver and wrap your arms around your body. Bloodhound stands, all the while their attention remains downward.

“You can leave it there.” You say, passing one more glance over the body before averting your gaze elsewhere. “If you want nothing from it, leave it for the birds. They could use the meal.” As if aware of their mention, the still-waiting scavengers call loudly from the tree-top. A raven answers with a caw and you look around to find many black birds scattered around the clearing. The birds do seem to follow their raven stranger everywhere they went. The wind howled through the desolate forest and you grimace upon thinking of returning to your empty house with such a shallow heart. The smell of blood lingers cruelly to your clothes, reminding you of what you had just witnessed. You had to think of something to keep your mind off it, thinking of your act for people, play your part until you finally were normal again. But your bar would not be open until at least noon and there was no one else who would be willing to distract you.

“Did you track it all the way here?” Your voice breaks the silence, your mind subconsciously switching to your more charming persona. They do not answer immediately.

“I sensed distress and followed its blood.” They weren’t giving you much to work off of and you shuffle in place.

“Then I suppose you will need a ride back?” This garners their attention and they turn to face you, the nerve of being under their masked gaze still sending jolts up and down your spine.

“I cannot accept your generosity again.” Bloodhound tries to talk you down but you scoff and lift a hand to silence them.

“Please, I won't be needed until lunch and I really don't mind.” Your tone successfully managed to hide that you had a third reason to be so insistent - you just hoped that they could not see the desperation in your face. They could. They take a moment to consider your offer, whatever expression lay under their mask you would never know. The raven to their left caws and they turn to look at it. It takes off after a final noise and Bloodhound lowers their head back to you - some secret understanding passing between bird and hunter.

“Then,” Bloodhound motions for you to lead the way, “By all means.” Though strained and almost painful, your first smile of the day pulls at your lips and you turn around to walk back to your house.

~

Bloodhound, as bizarre and strange as they were, never afforded you the opportunity to truly draw a defined picture of their personality. Wrapped so totally in mystery and gear, your perception of them was created on a flimsy base of shadows - beyond what they portrayed on T.V, you knew nothing of. But in the frozen forest of that Winter’s morning, something changed and you felt your world flip upside down onto its head.

Bloodhound was a lot more talkative on the way to their cabin than they had been the first time. Or any time really that you had interacted with them. It had started with you asking them the simple question of how they managed to track the injured elk and although their initial answer remained vague, a tangent soon manifested and from there the spiral began. To your utter surprise, and mild enjoyment, they proved themselves to be a great storyteller and had many wonderful and whimsical tales about their Gods and hunts that had made the drive over to their place seem almost too short.

“Most people stop me at this point.” Bloodhound commented, drawing a snicker from you as your eyes were glued to the ice-capped road ahead.

“Well, most people are not here. And I am very much enjoying myself. I love stories.” You could not see it, but your response brought a cracked smile to Bloodhound's hidden face.

By the time you had reached their cabin, they had entranced you in a tale about wolves and the true essence of the hunt. Though you thought your morning could not get any more surprising, Bloodhound steps out of your truck and extends an offer to share warm drinks with them inside. In the heart of Winter, you could not resist the temptation.

The interior of their cabin was much as you expected - totally unpredictable. It was like a bear and a machine had a fight, a complete subversion of everything you had come to know as normal. On the floor was a multitude of animal rugs, the couches too were draped with the furs of Bloodhound’s past, presumed, victories. Yet despite the clear aesthetic for ruggedness, a definite sense of modern order was showing through. The fireplace was quaint in its design but unmistakable retro. The furniture too, the chairs and tables, shelves and windows, were all of a very contemporary era. A perfect combination of the comforts of the past and the conveniences of the present. But all and all, the only word that came to your head when you first stepped in through their front door was - cozy.

Bloodhound leads you through their small cabin, past the living room, and into the small kitchen. They motion for you to take a seat at the wooden table in the center of the room and you marvel at the smells and sights around you. Hanging from strings draped across the walls were various herbs and spices and on the counter in bowls were fresh fruit and vegetables. They must have visited the town if this was their food supply and you feel a twinge of apprehension pluck at your light mood. You brush it off as Bloodhound asks if you would prefer tea or coffee.

“I find myself the one in honor of sharing breakfast with you this morning. Fair varning must be made, however,” Bloodhound extends a steaming cup towards you, “I have been told I am not the most accomplished of hosts.” You smile gratefully and take the cup into your shivering hands. The drink was shockingly and terribly bitter and you barely manage to hold back your gag at the first sip. Bloodhound snickers at your reaction and produces a tub of honey for you to add to your drink. “And that my tastes are mostly unagreeable.”

“Oh please,” You wheeze weakly after drowning your taste buds in the soothing honey, “This is nothing. Besides, I assume that, with your choice of isolation, you don’t particularly want to be anyone's host.” Bloodhound hums at your comment, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with it. They pull up to the opposite chair and take a seat and you notice how their drink has a straw in it.

“I am not entirely opposed to indulging certain people. And even fewer dare to give my delights a try. Therefore I rather keep them to myself. I do, however, give special heed to those vho show interest in my stories.” This draws a smirk from your lips as you bring the hot liquid up to your mouth for another sip. Content silence passes through the room and you focus intently on the warmth now spreading through your hands and to the rest of your body. “I did not think that anyone vould be out on such a morning like this.” Bloodhound admits, causing you to slowly look at them and lower your cup.

“Most are too old or too busy to take time out of their day to notice these things, or to even care. And I do not do well in the cold. Today was a special exception.” At the mention of the temperature outside you quickly raise your cup to your mouth and down another gulp. When you open your eyes again, you finally notice the bird in the room who had before blended so seamlessly in with the other oddities of the kitchen. Sat on a perch made of carved wood to the left of Bloodhound was their signature raven. It tilts its head at your attention, letting out a meek calling before eyeing you up and down. Bloodhound must really like their raven friend if they were kind enough to invite them inside. The sight alone was enough to bring a bemused grin to your chapped lips and Bloodhound watched it all happen in mild fascination.

“Do you often listen to birds?” They ask, breaking you out of an almost trance and extending to their raven a piece of freshly sliced apple.

“It is not so strange.” You breathe a laugh, “It was what led me to finding you in the rain that first evening.” Bloodhound turns their disk-like lenses towards your face and wordlessly implores you to continue. Despite the warmth now residing in your bones, you still shiver under their daunting gaze. “Your friend I mean,” You motion to the raven who has also turned to look at you with its beady, brown eyes as if aware that it was the topic of conversation, “Its cries were all I could hear. Which is saying something, considering it was storming pretty hard.”

“I do not think it skrýtinn.” Bloodhound replies without missing a beat, their voice mellow and their words an alluring symphony of strange syllables, a true joy to listen to. “Just an uncommon trait in most people. And his name is Artur.” You pass the bird a look and slightly tip your head in acknowledgment of his name. He squawks and fluffs his chest feathers, clearly enjoying being the center of attention. Bloodhound smiles at the bird. “Ravens are the messengers of the Allfather. They guide and aid me on my hunts. I do not think it skrýtinn to listen to them. Only that someone else does also.”

“You give me too much credit.” You bashfully avert your gaze, dropping your eye level to the rim of your mug no longer steaming. “It has only been a few, very odd occasions. Mere coincidences if nothing else.” Bloodhound shrugs off your deflection, unpersuaded by your argument.

“Even so.” The room falls into a content stillness after their last comment and you are left wondering how you had even ended up here. On T.V, Bloodhound was a truly mysterious character, never talking or partaking in the more rowdy activities as the others did. Sure, you were not an avid watcher, but from what little time you had spent gazing at the screen, you had made Bloodhound out to be a vastly stoic, isolated person. And by all means, they had mostly proven themselves to be exactly that person, what with their initial reluctance to meet your extended friendliness and the way they had so precariously placed themselves on this mountain all alone. However, sitting now with them in their own house, you did not feel intruding or unwelcome. And the way they spoke to you, the ease of words and conversation, came as soft and comfortable as if from someone you had known before. From them, you could feel nothing but gentle amity.

“Do you hunt?” Bloodhound’s voice wafts through the air and to your ears, bringing your head up in a hum. You snicker, a twinge of embarrassment pulling at your chest.

“Not if I can help it. Though Andante did try, I simply cannot,” you inhale deeply through your nose, suddenly aware of the gaze trained attentively on you, “Find the strength to actually kill anything. Much to the dismay of my patrons.” This peaks Bloodhounds attention and they motion for you to explain yourself.

“Every year around the beginning of Summer, before the birth of the first lambs, the town gathers for a sort of Summer festival. With my bar being the sole provider of food and alcohol for such an event, it normally fell upon Andante to supply the people with a freshly killed elk. A make-shift banquet we would all share. Everyone has so much fun.” Your head drops and your shoulders give inwards.

“But with him gone, I doubt I would be able to give the people what they want. Last year I barely managed to scrape by, I had to do a lot of ass-kissing to get the more hardened townsfolk back on my side. But this year,” Your story fades and you sigh miserably, the relief of finally expressing this concern aloud only seeming to momentarily dull the growing sense of shame.

“It is stupid, I know.” You run a hand through your hair, the bubbling self-hatred in your stomach threatening to go overboard. You were oversharing again. A lot. But you could not find a way to stop. “But, what right do I have to take the life of an animal when I already have frozen meat stored in my fridge?” Strength wanes from your knees and you are glad to be sitting down - oh, you were definitely going to kick yourself over this one later. Perhaps staying at home all alone would have been the better option after all.

In the silence that followed your last words, you felt incredible judgment bare down upon your shoulders and you wanted nothing more than to shrink away from it. Under the menace that was your own self-scrutiny, you were unable to recognize that Bloodhound was not, in fact, judging you. From behind their goggles, they watched you closely, noticing the subtle shudder of your shoulders, the downward twinge of your head, and the way your eyes seem to have lost that burning. This was something that troubled you deeply and for a terribly long time as well. So instead of what might be predicted of them to feel or do, mainly berate you for your lack of spine in the face of their profession, Bloodhound only leaned back in their chair and their mind wondering on how best to help you.

“It is not about vhat is right or vhat is not.” Bloodhound finally speaks, their tone mellow and coaxing you to look up at them again. At your acknowledgment, they continue with their explanation. “The hunt is a matter of vill - the vill of the hunter and of their prey. If your vill as a hunter surpasses that of the prey's vill to live, then you have every right to take it.” They ball their hand into a fist in an expression of power, shaking it slightly for emphasis. “You as a hunter must have an unwavering ákveðni, and strong belief in your skills. Trust your veapons and abilities, know that you are verðugt of the hunt.” Their voice lowers and they watch you for any signs of apprehension or disagreement. You only manage to look at them, eyes an unreadable ocean of something at war. They bring their fist to their chest and hammer it hard on the fabric, an attempt to ignite passion from you.

“If the hunter is humble and honors the hunt, then they have every right to taka their prey. Reap their rewards. You must just believe yourself vorthy of it. I have already seen that you have the ability and skill. Your bow, through troubled, aimed sure. And your knife brought a swift death. Now…”

“Just need to practice it.” You finish their statement, your gaze drifting a thousand miles away. Sure their wisdom was easy to take, generous even given the circumstances, but your mind was too frazzled to digest even a single word. Worthy? Not someone who hides in the forest and plays pretend bar-keeper. Bloodhound could see how you hesitated at their words, not necessarily rejecting it but not truly considering them either. They felt the urge to lean in more, to keep talking and chipping away at your pseudo mask until finally, they struck home. What were you thinking right now? Why were you so disgruntled at the thought of being worth something?

“You listen but my vords are not heard. You disagree vith vhat I say?” Bloodhound asks, their arms folding over their torso as they sit themselves upright, alert to your every movement and utterance. At their question you stir, a tired laugh that sounds more like a sigh escaping your nose and your eyes dropping their gaze.

“No, not at all. I am just… surprised.” Your response is framed with quiet complacency, your expression shifting to one of meek placidness. Bloodhound could tell that you were retreating back inside yourself, falling behind curtains of a trained profession such as the first night they met you. No longer were you that desperate person standing in the woods over a kill they mourned, instead you were a fake silhouette of someone who once was. They frown, unsure why they felt so unhappy to watch you shrink away again. Without speaking, Bloodhound asks you to elaborate.

“Forgive my rudeness but,” Your eyes snap up again and Bloodhound sees nothing in them. “I don’t really know you. And what little I do know, well, is that you are a most proficient hunter of both man and beast.” A hand lifts to your chest and you laugh. “You have seen it all and must think I am most annoying. Yet,” You pause, Bloodhound hanging off every one of your words, “You are so kind to my troubles.”

“I do not hunt in the Apex Games to prove anything. I do it for my folk and for the Allfather. I am no better than any other hunter.” Bloodhound speaks plainly, their heart thumping in their chest and their stare never once leaving your face. You smile unknowingly under their attention and they stare at your weak imitation of the real thing. Your true smile was the one they saw whilst sitting on the grass with you or when they told you stories in the car. Right now, you were faking it. Pulling away from them. Returning once more to your charade of sensibility. Whatever genuineness they had somehow managed to draw out of you was waning and they could do nothing but look on as you slipped away from them.

“I didn't mean to offend.” You ease them, your words lacing themselves with accommodation. “Your people must be very proud of all your titles however. No denying that it is impressive regardless of your motive.” You chuckle lightly. Suddenly you frown and you tilt your head at them. “May I ask,” When they did not oppose, you continued, “Why are you here? On this planet I mean. Why are you not with your people?” Bloodhound looks on like a marble statue, hardly even breathing beneath all their armor. You worry you might have overstepped your boundary and you open your mouth to apologize but they quickly cut you off.

“My folk vould not understand my decisions. Nor vould they approve of most that I do.” You can tell that the conversation was over and the warmth your bitter, hot drink had offered you only minutes earlier faded with the atmosphere. You nod in resignation.

“Then,” You say, standing and bowing your head in anticipated gratitude, the raven stranger’s attentive gaze not once shifting off your form, “I look forward to the Winter when I do not hear your Artur's call.”

~

“Oh my sweet, gentle Bar-keep, I am in need of your assistance!” Your eyes snap upwards from their work of stacking away cleaned glasses and you cannot help but grin at the one calling you. Seated at a table in the middle of your bar was a very drunk Thomas waving you over in exaggerated and hurried movements. He rocked backward in his seat and nearly looked as if he would fall over. You sigh and think it better to listen to him, lest your bar never know quiet again for the remainder of the evening. You step out from behind your bar table and carefully stroll over to him, a playfully condescending expression plastered to your face. Thomas beams a lop-sided smile and extends his hand, which you ignore and instead pat him lightly on his shoulder. He hums and overlaps your hand with his own seemingly unperturbed by your refusal.

“Ah my dear,” Thomas hiccups, swaying slightly in place despite being perfectly still, “Do not worry. I have not called you here to cause trouble. I just could not bear to see you stand behind your bar so lonely. I simply had to call you here. So troubled and worried over something.” Thomas squeezes your hand lightly and you roll your eyes at his obnoxious and misplaced concern.

“Though his words are slurred, they come from a genuine place.” From across the table, the farmer Mallory spoke. She offers you a sympathetic smile and silently apologies for her friend’s unruly behavior. Her heavy arms fold defensively over her large chest and she scowls at Thomas who sheepishly chuckles under her glare, retracting his hand and shrinking away slightly. Mallory sighs and looks to you again, the same concern that claimed her companion now sprinkled into her brown eyes. “You look a thousand years away tonight. What has upset you so?”

The two patrons turn their attention onto you and you gently shrug off their worries with a mild hand wave and flash of your smile. “You are looking for smoke signals when there is none, Mallory. And Mr. Thomas, you are concerned over the wrong things. You should be more concerned about returning to your own home before it gets too dark and I have to phone Rohan to come fetch you again.” Though the woman remains unmoved by your deflection, Thomas scoffs and shakes his head.

“Rohan’s bed will stay warm regardless of where I am. And he would excuse whatever lateness I cause if he had also seen how,” he stutters, his fingers flexing as he tried feebly to grasp at words that would not come, “ sad you look tonight.” You let out a tired laugh at the drunk fisherman’s antics and punch lightly at his shoulder.

“I assure you, my ‘sad looks’ are merely just that. Looks.” You gesture to the various empty beer glasses scattered around the table and after a nod from Mallory, you begin to place them on a tray to take back to the kitchen to be washed. “How ever could I be sad when I have your fine company to make my evenings so noisy?” This draws a cackle from the bitter woman, who relishes in your pecking at the man. Thomas gasps and feigns hurt under your judgments, a teasing hand placing pitifully over his broken heart.

It was all a lie, of course. There was some deep sincerity to your sadness that evening and it was not over Thomas’ painful crooning. Try as you might, your mind could not rid itself from the events that had occurred only the day before. What had happened with Bloodhound plagued your every waking moment. During the more lively hours of the day, when your bar was packed with singing, intoxicated patrons, you thankfully had a very loud and engrossing distraction. But now, as the evening winded down and the last table still waited to be cleared, your mind was awash with bitter thoughts.

It was all going so well, they had been so welcoming and friendly and you sat in their home confident and assured. They had shared in you their many stories and experiences, pulling you deeper into a conversation than you had ever been with them. And yet the moment you opened your mouth, allowed it to run unchecked and unguarded, the walls came down and the party ended. You were a fool, you kicked yourself. A damn, stupid fool for allowing yourself to speak so freely. To express to them a most sensitive part of yourself that not even your bathroom mirror had known. It was because of your inability to keep yourself in line that caused the rift to tear and now separate you from the person of your interest. Bloodhound told you such wonderful stories and now you were sure they would never want to speak to you again.

But you put on your brave face and pretend as if nothing is wrong. And that is true, of course. Nothing is wrong. Your life was fine before their intrusion and it shall be fine thereafter. The show must and will go on. Eventually, forced routine will become natural again and you will slip back into ease and complicit quietness. You will learn to move on and most certainly, so will they. If ever, you doubted greatly, you even left that much of an impact on them and all their glory.

“It is because you are so lonely, that's why you are so sad.” Thomas chimes, drawing both yours and Mallory’s attention back on him. He hums with content and leans back in his chair, sure that if he had a beard he would be stroking it thoughtfully. “We must find you someone to work with. Someone you can boss around and pull on their ear.” He winks at you and you smirk back, playing into his needful childishness.

“This is not the dark ages, Mr. Thomas.” You tease, taking your loaded tray to the bar counter and speaking over your shoulder. “We do not arrange marriages anymore.” The fisherman jeers and Mallory kicks him under the table. You return to them quickly, bringing with you a wet cloth and a glass of water requested by the woman. She presses it to Thomas’ face and commands him to sober up.

“Then how else are we supposed to get you hitched?” Thomas continues, paying no heed to the violent death stares of the woman sat across from him. Mallory kicks him again and he nearly spills his drink from the movement. You grin at the two of them, stepping back from the freshly wiped table with your arms folded over your chest.

“People don't need to be with others to be happy. I am perfectly content with myself as company.” You announce with your nose pointed in the air. “And you, as occasional annoyances.” The man chokes on his drink and Mallory snorts at your comment. You decide to continue playing along, matching their extended friendliness with your own enthusiasm.

“Y’know, I always thought it a vile rumor that fishermen were mad people.” You joke, taking the cloth and wringing it out before throwing it over your shoulder. “Nothing to do all day but sit in boats and think. But with every word you speak, my dear Thomas, I begin to believe that the rumor has some truth behind it." This arouses a snicker from the woman farmer and she shakes her head in amusement over you and disappointment for her friend. Thomas whines a noise that does not sound like any language you would know and Mallory leans forward.

"Finish your drink, my friend. I will see you home tonight." She urges the glass of water to his attention. "I cannot bear to watch you be torn apart any longer." Thomas darts his eyes between Mallory and you, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a fish out of water. You smugly smile at him, charming with all the beauty and grace of a snake. After a moment he relents, slumping down into his seat with a defeated huff, the water glass in hand.

“I swear, that mouth of yours,” Thomas moans into his glass weakly as if greatly wounded on a battlefield, “It is more vicious than any beast I’ve come across. Godspeed to anyone who dares to try to face such a monster.” At his last comment, you exhale loudly through your nose and shake your head dismissively. With one final look from Mallory, you leave the two late-evening patrons to finish their drinks and return to your work behind the bar.

The mood in the bar is somewhat lighter now and your hands worked at an easier pace with your mind quietly wondering over Thomas’ words. This was not the first time you had been scolded over your sharp words and you were sure it would not be your last. Conversation was your master and you were always one quick with your words, whether that be for the better or worse. Over the sound of you wiping down plates and glasses with a cloth, you could hear Thomas and Mallory talking faintly, the wind whispering outside your walls, and the gentle nothing of the world beyond. It was a peaceful evening, much more so now that you had dealt with your rowdy patron and the thoughts that curled like rats in a drowning cage. Though his comments were unnecessary, you thank Thomas for his distraction and for his unwitting lifting of your spirits. At least now you would be able to sleep soundly and with less of a worried mind.

Suddenly, a knock at the front door. Curious, unsure if it had even happened, you cast your attention over to it. It was far too late for anyone wanting to pop in for a drink and even if it was you were sure to turn them away. But still; there was no denying that you had, in fact, heard something. Or someone. Wordlessly, you slip out from your bar and quickly stroll to the door, pulling it swiftly open to reveal a cold night and a strange visitor.

“Oh,” You mumble, blinking numbly like a star-struck owl. You shake your head and revive your best smile to be planted on your lips. “What a lovely surprise.”

Standing before you, Bloodhound tipped their helmet, specks of accumulated snow falling off in the process. “Good evening,” They respond formally.

“And to you.” You nod back, familiar shivers running up and down your spine as you stood under their gaze. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” You swoon, curling your words with over-exaggerated sweetness so as to hopefully hide your utter shock at their being here. They always seem to have a knack for popping back into your life when you least expected it. But now of all time, why?! You could hardly even look at them straight after what had happened not even the day before! Fresh embarrassment boiled in our stomach and you wanted nothing more but to go back into your quiet existence. This had to be some cruel dream from a most hateful deity, cursing you out for some horrible act you had unwittingly done. Why could they not just go back to being a figure on the T.V, an unknown? Why did they have to be here, standing before you, talking to you?!

“I vish to speak with you.” Bloodhound says, voice terribly low and near-emotionless. It caught you off guard slightly at how plain and devoid of anything they sounded, nothing at all like the passionate hunter you sat and drank with yesterday.

“My bar will be closed soon.” You explain after a moment of debating on what to say. A strong part of you begged for an excuse to say no, the refusal even gracing the tip of your tongue in eager desperation. But your hospitality overrode your anxiety and you stepped to the side to allow entry into your bar. “If you do not mind waiting a few minutes then you will have my undivided attention.”

Bloodhound considers your words, eyes darting between your face and the warm interior of the business. They too notice how your own words seem guarded this evening, jaded behind bars of entertainment and false care. You smiled, yes, but it was not genuine. Again, you reeked of fakeness and it irked them for some unknown reason. They hum their agreement and stride quickly inside. Upon their entrance, two faces turn to look at them.

You shuffle between Bloodhound and the skeptical table, closing the door and guiding your new patron over to the bar. They follow closely behind you and seat themselves on a red cushion stool. You resume your position as host and perform your duties accordingly, offering them something to drink while they wait. Bloodhound silently refused, only lifting their hand and shaking their head.

“I don’t think I mentioned it before,” You say, works trickling out like a spring in a dessert, soothing all worries with a trained presentation. “A while ago we had a fellow pass through our humble town who had a similar accent to yours. He was a swindler and tried to persuade me to purchase from him strange pickled meats and other strange things.” While you spoke, you resumed your wiping of the glasses and plates, talking over your shoulder as you worked in a most casual manner.

“Though everyone tried to steady my hand, he just was so compelling and I caved. And now I have, stored in the back for the foreseeable future, a bottle of the most potent alcohol anyone has ever seen.” Your face softens into a smile as you recall the memories of that night when a brave soul tried to drink from that poison. “Someone once tried and no one has since. Perhaps it is a drink you know?” You cock your question at Bloodhound, leaning over the bar table and grinning.

“Your intuition values you, but perhaps another night I can provide you an answer.” You take Bloodhound dismissal with grace and nod your head in swift acknowledgment. They were cold tonight, the very definition of stoic. Whatever they wanted to discuss with you, you could only hope would somehow be more lighthearted than this. From behind the hunter, movement erupts as the two patrons stand up.

“We are off, my dear Bar-Keep.” Thomas sings, waving a hand at you in an irritating manner. Mallory follows close as they make their way to the front door, her eyes practically burning holes into the raven stranger’s dead-straight back. She passes you a flash of a concerned look and you calm her down with a cool smile.

“Have a good night and a safe journey home.” You call after them, mildly glad that now your ears would know rest from the fisherman’s chanting. However, as his hands grace the front door’s handle, Thomas quickly spins on his heels and points towards you and your new arrival.

“Don’t you dare try anything with my Bar-keep!” Thomas threatens, standing with his hackles raised like a chihuahua to a bear, “If I hear that you have touched even a single hair, so help me I’ll-”

“Thomas.” Mallory punches the man's shoulder causing him to drop his ill-backed threat and wince in pain. Without a moment more, the farmer shoves the man out the door and the two disappear into the night with the door closely swiftly behind. You stare after them, the atmosphere suddenly seeming to shrink and grow cold as you become painfully aware of your aloneness with the hunter.

“They seem nice.” Bloodhound remarks and you are so stunned by their nonchalant attitude you nearly snort.

“It is a small town. Everyone here is like family.” You explain, turning to face those unreadable, immovable lenses. “Besides, I serve him beer. I get special privileges.” At this Bloodhound seems to stir and you feel slightly more room to breathe. Relax, it was just conversation. Don’t get carried away again and you will be fine.

The conversation halted, however, neither you nor Bloodhound knowing what next to say to break the forming ice that had started growing between you two. Though you wanted to know what exactly had compelled them to travel all the way to visit you on such an odd evening, you could tell that they were not ready to answer so instead you plucked random topics from the top of your head.

“Winter is moving slowly this year,” You begin, regaling the exact dialogue you had shared that afternoon prior with a patron and reusing it word for word, “No big snow storms as of yet. But that just means that towards the end of the season, Mother Nature will rear her true head and drive us all inside our houses.” You sigh and rest your elbow on the tables’ surface, your busy work of drying cutlery all finished and packed away. “Many people tell me, warn me in fact, that the late-season storms are the worst kinds. Impossible snow and hail and everything else to make the shit pie complete. And I thought the cold now is hard to handle. I have no idea how I’ll-”

“Stop that.” Bloodhound interrupts you harshly, their voice an almost growl as they sit behind their undecipherable armor. You are slightly taken aback by their outright force at the command, flashbacks to the first time you met them in all their rage reappearing in your mind. Bloodhound remains still, fists clenched over the table, shaking beneath the heavy red fabric gloves.

Though you cannot see, they squeeze their eyes shut in an effort to understand why, so suddenly, they were getting so worked up. Why were you just talking to them? So nonchalant and practiced - it felt as if talking to them was a chore. Some kind of business transaction or task that was only being done as a means to an end. But that is not what muddled Bloodhound’s mind, not your lack of genuine interaction, your quiet was not what drove them out of their house and to your bar this evening. What made them toil in confused agony, was why they even cared so much for your genuine company?

“What?” You murmur after a minute of stale silence, the wind picking up the rising atmosphere inside the bar and clawing at the windows to join in. The raven stranger does not respond right away, instead they fight with what words would be best used in this kind of delicate situation.

“Stop that.” They repeat their vague statement sternly, staring at you through their goggles with great intent, noticing any slight change in your features or body language. “Stop trying to sell me your company. I do not vant it.” At this you frown and straighten your back, confused beyond anything at what they could mean. You open your mouth to speak but Bloodhound stops you with a raised hand.

“You talk but there is no life. You smile but there is no light behind it. Do you think I am not worthy of your trueness? I have seen your true self but always you hide it. Do you think you are not worthy of enjoying yourself?” Utterly and so completely shocked at what was being said, you stood wordless with your face a mix between anger and bewilderment. Bloodhound watched you, eyes scanning up and down your form for any signs of egregious discontent. Why weren’t you speaking? Why weren’t you reacting in any way? Had their visit and accusations not even struck a nerve with you? You only stood there, placid and unwavering, like ice waiting for the sun to melt it.

“I have talked vith this free person, sat in silence vith them and felt þægilegt , calm. And I came here this evening because…” Bloodhound falters at this, unsure at what best to say when describing the reason they themselves still had no answer to. Why had they come here to bother you? Why had you not left their thoughts since yesterday, or even, since that afternoon on the grass? Why is it that when the world goes quiet and they stand still to listen, it is you who looms in the corner of their vision, beckoning for them to find you? In such a short time of meeting, somehow you had trapped them in some unforeseen and unbreakable cage - an ever-present urge to lean in more, to seek you out. But why, exactly, it was you of all people who had proclaimed that spot of interest, was a mystery that the Allfather cruelly hid from them.

“Vhat is it you vant from me?” Bloodhound lowly asks, their tone hollow and their demeanor stone-cold. Perhaps that was the reason for their spontaneous visit - to search for an answer themselves. To find out if maybe you felt at all the same way they did.

“Nothing.” The words leak from your lips like a whisper yet hold the strength and bite of a scream. Devoid of all anger, hostility, confusion, and regret, you gaze back at the raven stranger, “What ever could I possibly want from you?” And there it was - their answer.

“Now if that is all you came to ask me, then I must now say good night.” You motion with your attention towards the door, still shell-shocked over what had just transpired. Why are they so angry towards you? So taken aback by, what you were sure to be, great and comforting hospitality? This was the reason you had so ardently avoided opening yourself up to people, allowing yourself to talk unchecked often leads to situations where people get angry. And now Bloodhound was angry and you were sure you could never fix it.

The raven stranger slowly rises from their seat, tipping their helmet in a stiff manner before silently making their way over to the front door. This is how it will be, forever. You made a mistake, let your mouth have free rein over your conversations, and brought ruin to a person that made your chest ache. And as you watched them slip away into the snowy night, the only thing you can say was, “Have a safe journey home.”