#had to deal with that would be it. I would Not have been attending Willes birthday party

[fan-of-young-royals]

I know Simon is so much stronger than me because that final fight in the music room would’ve been the Moment I decided to break up with Wille

[pearlymel]

A dance— Capitano

Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.

Wc : 3.2k

Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.

Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!

You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.

Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.

All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)

Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.

It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.

Like last week.

“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.

Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.

"Did you learn it from someone?”

“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”

You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.

“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.

Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.

"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”

“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”

“i don't.”

And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.

“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.

You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.

An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.

“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.

“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”

“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.

All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.

But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.

You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.

“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”

“and the colour?”

"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”

Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.

Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.

Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.

You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”

"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”

You are ready.

You are not ready.

Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?

The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.

Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.

You were here to make friends, hopefully.

You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.

And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.

Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?

Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.

But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?

You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.

“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.

"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.

The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.

Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.

He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.

"I suppose we should dance, wife.”

“you want to dance?”

"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.

You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.

Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.

"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.

"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.

Interesting.

He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.

You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.

His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.

”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”

You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.

His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.

"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.

"You look rather well tonight, as well.”

“Thank you, wife.”

The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.

You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.

As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.

You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.

But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.

"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.

"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”

He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.

Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.

“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.

you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.

The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.

Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.

Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.

The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.

He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.

“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let your hair breath the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.

You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in hin stir.

His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.

It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.

Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.

You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.

Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.

“Will you allow me to touch you?”

The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.

When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.

His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.

“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”

And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.

“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.

“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.

He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.

His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.

It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.

Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.

Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.

“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.

“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’

Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.

Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.

You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.

He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.

His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.

“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.

Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.

—

You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.

As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.

“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”

Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 2 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: As soon as you decide that Jake is the one you want for your first time, he's very clear that you'll be playing by his rules. You're ready to get this over with and get on with your life, but he's determined to make you admit that you're allowed to feel good. And maybe you want to enjoy this with him.

Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, sexual touching, 18+

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

"Jake," you whispered as his soft hair glided through your fingers. You liked his name. He was handsome. He was older. His lips tasted delicious. He had green eyes.

Why had you been so focused on Rooster? Oh, right. Because your roommate, Kylie, said he was good after she slept with him. She told you all about the Navy bar and the different guys with call signs, and you made it a point to remember that Rooster was the one who she said was the gentlest. 

You froze. Jake had his hands around your waist, his hips pressing his semi hard length against you. Those pretty green eyes were locked onto yours, and you knew it would be a long shot to get him to agree, even now. But something else was bothering you about this whole scenario. You suddenly wondered if Kylie and Jake ever had sex.

For some reason, that idea alone was enough to piss you off. Going blindly after Rooster would have been no big deal, but Jake seemed to actually give a shit about you. He just took the time to make sure you were really twenty, and he kept questioning you as to why you were here in the first place. In this bar where you apparently stuck out like a sore thumb.

But you wanted Jake specifically for your first time, whether he had already fucked Kylie or not. You leaned in and kissed him again, and he seemed more than willing now. You hoped your little skirt and tight shirt weren't going to fail you after you made it this far. He just needed to take care of this one, basic thing for you, and you'd be on your way. Then you could go out with Cooper who you were actually so ready to date, and you wouldn't completely embarrass yourself with him.

You let yourself touch Jake's hair again as you asked, "What's your call sign?"

His hand felt huge against your butt, and you went willingly when he pulled you even closer. "Hangman," he said in that cute Texan drawl. That didn't sound familiar at all, and Kylie was pretty proud of all the call signs she'd managed to collect. Maybe she hadn't gotten to him yet. Or maybe she wasn't his type. That thought alone made you smile even more as he continued to touch you.

"Okay, Hangman," you whispered against his mouth in the middle of this crowded bar. "I'm ready for you to take me to your place."

He kissed you gently and shook his head. "Let's go out to my truck, and I'll drive you back to your apartment or dorm."

God, he was such a good kisser, but he was really grating on your nerves at this point. You were a little nervous that he would keep saying no and then ruin your chances with Rooster or one of the other guys in attendance tonight, even though they would be clear backup options now. You whined in annoyance. "Come on, Jake."

"No. I'm not taking you home with me," he replied firmly. 

You stomped your foot; you really wanted to lose your damn virginity, and you couldn't give it away. "You don't even have to take me back to your place. We can fuck in the parking lot."

"Jesus Christ, Darlin'. That's not happening either," he said, looking scandalized. "Definitely not for your first time. And a leather mini skirt is an impractical outfit to get fucked in anyway."

You tipped your head back and groaned. "Well how was I supposed to know that?" Then you looked at his handsome face, pretty much ready to call it a night and try again tomorrow at a different bar. "I'm doing everything wrong."

He had the nerve to laugh at you again. "No. You're really not. The skirt is just going to make guys want to work harder for it. And honestly, somehow the sneakers are doing something for me?"

A small glimmer of hope flashed inside you as you ran your fingers along his stubbled cheek. "Yeah?"

"God. Damn. It." He was practically growling now as he started to haul you toward the exit. "If we're doing this, then we're doing it right."

"Okay!" you replied immediately, not really sure what you were agreeing to as he led you outside to the dark deck, letting the door close behind the two of you. The loud interior of the bar was a thing of the past now as he took your chin between his thumb and fingers and kissed you a little rough with the ocean as the new soundtrack. 

You almost dropped your purse as you tried to wrap your arms around his neck, already wanting more of him. "If you really want to do this," he said between kisses, "then you're playing by my rules." You were practically whimpering as his lips found the side of your neck, because why did his words sound so sexy?

"Absolutely," you whispered. "Jake's rules."

He half carried you out to the dimly lit parking lot as he muttered, "This is a terrible idea." He squinted at your face and added, "You seem like the type who never learns her lesson."

"I resent that," you said, running your lips along his ear even as your feet left the ground. "I have a 4.0 GPA. I always learn my lessons."

He grunted as he helped you into what you assumed was his truck before standing outside the door with his hands on his hips. "Like I said, you're a real smartass. Now listen up. I'm going to be as gentlemanly as I possibly can during this whole thing."

"Whole thing?" you asked, wondering what he could possibly mean. He just needed to get completely hard, shove his cock in you for a little while, and then call it a night.

"Yeah," he grunted, his green eyes a little wild in the glow from the truck's dome lights. "I'm going to make sure you come. I'm going to be as sweet as I can be. But you need to be clear if you're not having a good time, or if you want me to stop. If you can't abide by those basic ground rules, we're absolutely done here."

Oh. He was really taking this seriously. You chewed on your lip, and his face became more apprehensive. But you weren't debating with yourself whether or not his ground rules would work for you. You were actually trying to figure out why he was already being better than anything you anticipated tonight. Anticipated ever.

"Oh, my god," you gasped. "Are you married?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he shouted, looking angry now. "Of course I'm not married!"

You reached out to him and grabbed his hand. "Sorry! It's just that you're sweet, and you seem to be taking this really seriously! I was just checking!"

Jake scowled, and his tone was one akin to hurt. "I'm not letting you make yourself believe that all you deserve for your first time is a careless fuck in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, and I'm certainly not letting one of those drunk assholes maul you apart!"

The more you thought about it, you really didn't want to be manhandled or have to pull your skirt up in a bathroom stall to make the best of things tonight. You squeezed his hand which you were still holding as you softly said, "Thank you."

He ran his free fingers through his soft hair and muttered something that sounded like, "Yeah, don't thank me yet." Then he kissed your lips and said, "Buckle your seatbelt," before he let go of your hand and closed the door. 

-------------------------

You were pretty quiet on the drive back to Jake's place, but you didn't seem as nervous now. If anything, he thought his nerves were ramping up while yours were calming down. He couldn't remember how many condoms he had left in his bedside drawer, and when he tried to estimate how many he might use tonight, he almost missed his turn. Was he really going to do this?

"You live by the beach," you remarked, playing with the hem of your tiny skirt while you looked out the window.

"I do," he replied, mentally cancelling his morning run if you were going to stay over. The implications of letting you spend the night were creeping up on him, but kicking you out was absolutely not going to be an option. You likely had the entirety of the rest of your life to be disappointed by men, but he wasn't going to set that precedent. 

"How old did you say you were?"

Jake felt a little dirty now when he said, "I didn't. But I'm thirty." He tapped the brakes when he was about a block from his house. His truck already smelled sweet like your perfume or shampoo, and he glanced at you when he turned onto his street. "Let me take you back to your place."

You laughed softly as you leaned a little closer to him. "Negative, Hangman. I have a twin bed and a nosy roommate. I think we're better off doing this at yours."

"Come on, Darlin'. That's not what I meant, and you know it."

He coasted up to the stop sign on the quiet side street; he could see his little, white cottage on the next block, but he turned to look at your face in profile as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were looking straight ahead, chin proudly held high as you said, "If you really don't want to have sex with me, then turn right and head back toward Pomona Avenue."

It wasn't that he didn't want to. You were all pouty lips and feminine curves and perky tits, and yeah... he did want to fuck you. And he wanted to make it so good, you'd ask for more. He wanted to take his time and pull that first orgasm from you while he gave it to you exactly how you needed it. When he didn't turn his truck back toward Pomona, you looked at him and whispered, "It's okay if you're not into it, Jake. You can take me home. You don't have to worry about me."

He made a noise at the back of his throat and licked his lips. "That's not it." He wanted to say more, but for now, he answered your concerns by moving his foot to the accelerator and driving straight through the intersection. You visibly relaxed in the seat next to him, and a few seconds later, he was pulling his truck up to his house. You were looking out the window toward his cottage, and when you reached for the door handle, he let his hand rest on your bare knee. You turned his way immediately, and he said, "You never agreed to play by my rules."

"I agree."

He shook his head. "Then tell me what my ground rules were."

You bit your bottom lip, and he could feel you squeeze your legs together as you whispered, "You said you'd make sure I come. And that you would be sweet. And that if I tell you I'm not having a good time, you'll stop." Jake let his hand slide a few inches higher, and you responded by easing your legs apart and telling him, "I agree with the ground rules."

Jake nodded once and said, "Looks like I'm stuck with you now."

You kissed him. Somehow you caught him off guard every time you did it. You were tentative and inquisitive, and when you moved closer, his hand eased up your thigh. "You're stuck with me," you murmured between kisses. "For probably at least a half an hour." Jake started laughing, and you pulled away slightly. "What's funny?"

"Darlin', you're playing by my rules. You want me to teach you about sex? Half an hour isn't even going to be enough to get you warmed up."

You looked surprised as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair. "Teach me about sex? I thought you were just going to fuck me and call it a night."

Jake moaned. "Definitely not. Now let's get started."

--------------------------

You found yourself in Jake's living room, eyes darting around, trying to figure out what to focus on first. He was an actual adult with award commendations from the Navy and a massive TV. You felt small in his space, and some of your bravado melted away as he chuckled and said, "I'd offer you a drink, but, you know."

You tapped the toe of your sneaker against the hardwood floor and said, "According to my ID, I'm the same age as you. I like white wine, thanks."

He was trying not to laugh as he walked into his kitchen, and you followed along behind him, watching as he reached for a wine glass and filled it with ice water. "Enjoy your chardonnay, Darlin'," he drawled, and now you were also trying not to laugh.

"Thanks," you whispered before taking a sip. You tried to set your purse on the counter, but the clasp caught the edge, and both of your IDs came sliding out along with a strip of three condoms. When Jake met your eyes you said, "I made sure I was prepared before I left my place. I'm young, not stupid."

"But the Hard Deck?" he asked, closing the distance between your bodies. "Not your smartest move, parading around in there with a fake and some condoms. The guys that hang out there wouldn't know their ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to making sure a woman enjoys herself."

"You hang out there," you told him with a little eye roll, and his fingers came up under your chin. He tilted your face up until you were staring into his pretty green eyes, and your core clenched with need.

"I don't make promises I can't keep," he told you, and you absolutely believed him. "Now, you said you're a virgin, but why don't you go ahead and tell me how experienced you are."

You swallowed hard, chin still held in place by those rough fingers. "Is that really necessary? I'm ready to go, Jake." You set your glass of water on the counter next to the condoms and reached out to touch his solid abs through his shirt.

"There's a little more to it than that," he told you, stroking your jaw with his thumb. "Let's talk and get to know each other a bit."

The last thing you wanted him to know about was your complete lack of experience with guys. "We don't have to do that." 

"Yeah, well I want to," he told you, finally releasing your chin.

"You're very old fashioned," you said with a smirk, and your hands settled on his belt.

"I'm a lot older than you, smartass. Humor me." Instead of responding with anything about yourself, you held eye contact with him while you yanked the end of his belt free from the belt loops and started to unbuckle it. A smile danced along his lips, and he said, "Fine. I'll start. I'm a Lieutenant in the Navy. I grew up in Texas, but I've lived all over the country. My favorite food is chili. I love running on the beach in the morning before it gets too hot out. I have four sisters. And I'm a Scorpio."

You had the button of his jeans undone, and you were easing his zipper down as you said, "You do seem like a Scorpio, Lieutenant Jake." His green eyes were still on yours as you officially went further than you ever had with a guy by letting your fingers run along his impressive length through his underwear. He licked his lips as you reached the tip and then dipped your hand inside his snug boxer briefs. He was warm and velvety soft while also getting harder by the second, and you gasped at the look in his eyes. "Does this feel good?" you asked softly as his pupils widened.

He nodded once, and his voice sounded raspier as he told you, "Yes."

"Good," you mused out loud, unable to contain your smirk as Jake grunted softly. "If you like it, then the guy from my physics class who I want to go out with will probably like it, too."

Suddenly, Jake's hand was on your wrist in an iron-tight grasp, preventing you from stroking him. "What?" you gasped, his hand tightening incrementally as something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

"Lesson number one. When you're with a guy, and you have your hand wrapped around his cock, you shouldn't be talking about a different guy."

You pouted up at him and said, "I already told you earlier that part of the reason I wanted to lose my virginity was so it would feel good when I get with Cooper."

"And I'm telling you right now that you're done talking about him," he grunted. "Got it?"

A chill of delight ran up your spine as you whispered, "Yes. Understood."

His grasp on your wrist released immediately, and he leaned in, kissing you softly one time. "That's just a surefire way to get a guy jealous," he informed you, and another little chill ran through your body as you considered that maybe you just made him a little jealous. 

When you ran your hand along his length again, his lips were back on yours immediately, and he moved you so your leather covered butt was pressed against the edge of his countertop. Then he took your hips in both of his big hands, and you whimpered into his mouth. He teased you, pulling away slightly just so you'd chase him for more. He was throbbing against your palm as your other hand found his hair once again. 

He was sexy. Even the rough stubble on his face felt delicious as it rubbed your chin and cheeks. Then, just as his lips started to migrate along your jaw, he carefully reached for your wrist again, withdrawing your hand from his jeans. "Yes, it feels good, but this isn't about me, Darlin'."

When his lips skimmed down your neck before settling on your pulse point, you whimpered his name. Then he sucked gently on you there while he toyed with the zipper at the side of your mini skirt. He was big and strong, and he smelled good, and as he worked your zipper down, inch by painstaking inch, you shifted so you were rubbing against him.

As soon as his fingers dipped inside the elastic of your underwear, it felt like you were clenching around nothing. Usually you had to use your fingers for a while to get that kind of result, but he hadn't even touched you there yet. Then you realized you were wet. Really wet from his lips and his touch. Your thong felt damp against your skin as your skirt started to slide down your hips, and your voice was a little too loud as you gasped and said, "Okay, I'm ready. I'm definitely ready. Let's do it. Where's your bedroom?"

Jake's lips released your neck. He brought his mouth up to your ear and told you, "Absolutely not. Not yet."

Your skirt slipped a few more inches as Jake ran his nose along the shell of your ear. "God. Do you need me to ask nicely or something? Please?"

"You're playing by my rules. Did you forget? We're not rushing through this." Your skirt dropped to the floor at your feet as Jake pulled away and looked at your face. "Unless you're not having a good time, Darlin'. Say the words, and I'll stop."

You had no control of your body as your head tipped back, a low moan escaping as you said, "I don't want you to stop." You panted as you rubbed your wet panties against the open fly of his jeans. "It feels so good. But I want more."

Jake's hand found the back of your head, tilting it forward until you were looking at him again. "What do you want me to do to you?" he asked as one of his calloused fingers played with the lace trim along the top of your underwear.

"I want you to fuck me," you whispered with a moan, nodding your head as he smirked at you. 

"Really, pretty girl? You sure that's it? Because it sounds more like you want me to make you feel good." His fingers stroked up to your belly button and back down again as you bucked against him. "I think you know by this point in our conversation that you're allowed to enjoy this. And I can tell that's what you really want." 

"What could possibly feel better than getting fucked?" you asked in desperation. "I want you to fuck me!"

"No, you don't," he whispered, voice harsh and needy. He kissed you hard on the mouth two times before adding, "You want me to make you feel better than you've ever felt before. You want me to touch you with more skill than you can touch yourself. And none of that has to do with me fucking you. Tell me I'm wrong."

You bit down on your lip as his hand reached around to your butt, and suddenly you knew for sure it wouldn't have been like this with Rooster or any of the other guys at the bar. They would have fucked you and unloaded into one of the three condoms by now. Maybe you wouldn't have even gotten wet for them. You'd probably be back at your place in bed, planning on seeing Cooper on Monday morning with a new outlook on life. But it wouldn't have been like this.

Jake wanted more than that for your first time, and now you were starting to see that you could have more as his rough fingers kneaded into you. If you were already about to come just from rubbing yourself on him, then playing by his rules and letting him take his time was sounding better by the second.

You took a deep breath, let your lips brush against his and told him, "I want you to make me feel good."

"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."

----------------------------

Jake is about to show you that he's a man of his word. He keeps his promises, and he's already made some to you. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[evermore-fashion]

Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite - 18

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Chapter warnings: Afab/fem reader, smut, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral (f receiving), sub!reader, Dom!Minho,crying (a TON), Dacryphilia, edging, masterbating, borderline voyeurism, choking, spanking, sir kink, subspace, biting, blood in mouth, angst, threats of violence, illusions to violence, cursing, fluff, kissing, dirty talk, petnames

WC: 14k

“Yeah, no thank you.” 

“Come on, baby! I promise it won’t be like last time!” 

“Jinnie…. last time was yesterday..” 

“Exactly! 24 hours is enough for me to hone in on my skill.” 

“Technically it’s been less than 24 hours-“ 

“That doesn’t matter! I swear I’ve gotten better!” 

Hyunjin had been trying to convince you to let him do your makeup again, but this time he wasn't satisfied with just staying at home; no, this time he wanted you to wear it out. In public.

You stood before the mirror in the bathroom, freshly showered and beginning to get ready for the day. Albeit a little late in the morning- Jisung had demanded his ‘new favorite breakfast’ again this morning- but after making real breakfast for the pack it was time to get a move on with your day. 

“Jinnie,” You fiddled with your hair brush, not wanting to upset him or hurt his feelings in any way but still attempting to remain adamant, “As much as I love you, I would really prefer to do my own makeup for today. Especially since Chan said most of the town would be attending the carnival, I really want to make a good impression on everyone.” 

His lips curled in a playful grin and he practically had heart eyes. “Say you love me again.”

“I love you.” 

“Again.” He requested, wrapping his lanky arms around your midsection from behind. “Tell me again.” 

“Hyunjin, I love you so much.” The sincerity in your voice almost made him cry. 

“Ok, I concede. You can do your own makeup today, baby.” He planted a wet smooch against your cheek, making you giggle and squirm in his hold. “On one condition.” He held up one finger. You hummed in question. “I get to sit here and keep you company while you get ready.” 

You nodded with a wide smile, “Deal.” 

The beta removed himself from you and hopped onto the counter next to you, being careful of your products. You started on your hair while he queued up some music on his phone. 

“So what brings on this sudden interest in makeup?” You asked, genuinely curious, as he had not expressed (to you at least) any urge to learn. 

He set the phone down; a slower melodic sounding song playing into the room, it was a gentle tune that just screamed Hyunjin. 

“My muse, of course.” 

He said it so casually, like it didn’t make your heart swell.

“I wanted an excuse to spend time with you, so I started looking up videos about makeup. Then it turned into me wanting to perfect the art form, and what better canvas than my favorite person.” 

“Jinnie.” You blinked away the tears, but one slipped out anyway. “ You never need an excuse to be with me. I want you around, always. You’re my Jinnie.” 

He reached out and wiped the wet trail off your cheek, cooing at you. “Sweet baby, don’t cry. I just love you so much I wanted something just for us. Time for only Baby and Jinnie.” He kissed you and wiped more of your tears. “Seriously, if you don’t stop crying you're gonna make me start.” 

“Ok ok,” You pulled yourself together, sniffling once and willing the water works to stop. “Enough sappy shit,” that caused Hyunjin to snort, “I gotta get ready.” 

You chatted with each other as you finished your hair and began on your makeup. You did your face then moved on to trying to cover up the hickeys and bruises left all over your neck and shoulders. 

“Why are you doin that for?” Hyunjin asked, eyeing the cover up in your hands. “Everyone will know you’re there with us anyways.” 

You dabbed your makeup sponge on your skin, glancing at him through the mirror. “I have no issue whatsoever with everyone knowing I’m with the pack. I don’t particularly want to go out in public looking like an animal mauled me, though. I am still a lady afterall.” 

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, “Yeah that makes sense. Not everyone gets the privilege of seeing the naughty things we do to you, baby.” 

“Exactly!” You applied the finishing touches, putting down your applicator and turning to face him. “How do I look?” 

You had already gotten dressed beforehand; clothed in a pair of black high cut jean shorts that had little white flowers all over it and frayed edges, and a white one shoulder crop top that had corseted laces in the back. You also planned on pairing the fit with some strappy white sandals. Now with your hair and makeup done, you felt cute as hell. 

“Looking great baby! Give me a spin!” You did as he asked and he cheered out loud for you, hyping you up. “Hot damn, gonna give the whole town a boner, out there looking like that.” 

“Hyunjin!” You laughed and pushed at him. “Don’t be gross.” 

He held his hands up in defense, “It’s not gross if it’s true.” 

You laughed again, now turning on your heel to exit the bathroom. “Very profound of you, Jinnie.” Hyunjin followed you out of the bathroom and to your room. You were surprised to find there was already someone in there, rifling through your drawers. “Minnie, what are you doing?”

Seungmin looked up at you, clearly having been caught but showing zero remorse or embarrassment. “Hey puppy. Loving the shorts.” He grinned, and continued his digging. It was only when he lifted a particularly flimsy garment did you realize exactly which drawer he was rummaging in. Your panty drawer. “Why don’t you ever wear this one for me, huh?” 

“Seungmin!” You felt your face heat up. 

“You dirty perv! What the fuck are you doing?!” Hyunjin demanded, aghast at the younger's blatant behavior. 

“Oh lighten up Hyung.” Seungmin snickered, then he held his fingers like a slingshot, shooting Hyunjin with the pair of underwear. Hyunjin was shocked at the assault, yelping when it hit him (even though it didn’t hurt at all).

You shrieked and stormed over to him, grabbing the next pair he held up before he could sling another one. “That is enough of that!” 

“Yeah stop your shit, Seung!” Jinnie stomped his foot and pouted dramatically. Seungmin narrowed his eyes at the elder beta, his lip twitching with disdain at the order from his Hyung. Though Hyunjin was not his alpha- so Seungmin chose to ignore the demand. 

A request from you on the other hand; looking up at him with a stern glower, eyebrows scrunched and lip tucked between your teeth- he couldn’t possibly continue his teasing, no matter how much he enjoyed it. 

Seungmin threw his hands up in surrender, offering you a lazy smile. “Alright, baby. I concede. Don’t wanna get on my puppy's bad side. Last time she threw a can at me.” He ruffled your hair as you huffed, making him laugh. 

“Funny how you don’t worry about my bad side, little prick.” Hyunjin attempted to launch the previously flung pair of underwear, but it only slung past Seungmins body, missing by over a foot. The younger beta glared menacingly at the elder, the latter immediately understanding the threat.  He looked at his wrist as if there were a watch there (there wasn’t).“Well would you look at the time, I should get ready to go. See you later baby!” With that Hyunjin sped down the hall. 

Seungmin smirked at the retreating figure, amused that his look had the desired effect. You, though, were still giving him that disapproving frown, clearly finding the ordeal humorless. “Seungmin, what are you doing in my drawers?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, gesturing to the items on your bed you hadn’t noticed. It was a stack of t-shirts. Seungmins t-shirts. 

He now felt a little abashed, refusing to meet your eyes and a light pink dusting covering his cheeks. “You walk around wearing Chan’s clothes so often, I thought maybe you’d want something of mine sometimes too.” 

“Aww Minnie,” Your heart melted and you encased him in your arms, nuzzling against him. “Of course I want some of yours too, that is very sweet of you Minnie.” 

‘Yeah, so sweet. Not possessive at all.’ He thought cynically of himself as you held him.

Your words were slightly muffled as your face continued to bury in his chest, “But why were you in my underwear?” 

“I was going to put the shirts inside your dresser, but I got distracted.” He shrugged, not seeing a problem. “Puppy, I am just a man. A man who is a little bit obsessed with your pussy- and anything to do with it.” 

You pulled away quickly, mouth agape and your face heating rapidly. “ Why is everything you say so vulgar?!” 

He grabbed your face with both hands, his thumbs running along your cheeks, “Because I know how embarrassed it makes you, my little puppy.” He was cooing his words, as if talking to a real puppy. You wanted to move and avoid further mortification but he held you still, relishing in your submission. He held your gaze for another moment longer then he sighed wistfully, closing his eyes and leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. 

You also closed your eyes, leaning into his touch once again. “Minnie..” You sighed quietly, more like a whisper than anything. 

“Hmm”

“Love you..” 

“Mm,” He pulled away slowly, peering down at you now. “Love you, baby.” 

“Even though you're a perv.” 

That made him fully burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling “ Only for you.” He reached around and pinched your ass hard. You yelped and smacked his hand, backing away and out of reach from his torment. 

“Way to ruin the moment, jerk.” 

“You’re the one who ruined it by calling me a perv!” 

“I only call it like I see it, Minnie.” 

You had a little smirk on your face that he just wanted to wipe off, and show you how much of a pervert he could really be. That would have to wait for another day, though. There was no time, seeing as the summer festivities were already underway. 

“Remember this conversion. You don’t know what a perv looks like yet, pup.” He made his way to your door, stopping at the threshold. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and turned to you again. “Get your shoes on, it’s almost time to go.” 

He winked then left your room. You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Sweet and tender Seungmin was definitely your favorite - though the playful cheeky side of him was amusing sometimes as well. 

‘I love a versatile man’ You laughed at your own thoughts, then gathered yourself and found your sandals. 

You found Hyunjin, Changbin, Jeongin, Seungmin and Chan all downstairs chatting and cracking jokes. 

Changbin was the first to notice you when you walked into the room and he made a show of whistling and clapping. “WOAH! Looking GOOD baby!” 

Jeongin coughed, “Simp.” He coughed again, then received a harsh push from the older alpha, making him laugh. 

You giggled, “Thank you Binnie.” 

Jeongin pushed Changbin back, making Changbin stumble back into Seungmin who at the contact made a disgusted face and pinched Bins arm. They all started to bicker as Hyunjin laughed and Chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Only when the roughhousing started getting too mean did the head alpha step in. 

“Enough!” His voice raised only slightly, but his tone held so much power- so much authority. Hearing it instantly made you wet. 

The three boys stopped their antics at the command of the alpha, all three separating from the other. 

“All of you, go get into the car.” He pointed to the door, “Quietly.” He looked at Hyunjin, “You too, go.” The beta went to protest but an eyebrow raise and a look from the alpha quickly shut him up, him too shuffling out the door like a wounded dog. 

“Never a dull moment, huh Channie?” You smiled in jest, it was then you noticed he wasn’t dressed to leave yet; he was still shirtless and in his basketball shorts. “ Not that I mind you being shirtless, but why aren’t you ready? Aren’t you coming with us?” The look on his face gave him away immediately. “Channie! This is supposed to be a fun day out for all of us! You included!” You whined, tugging on his arm. 

“I’m still going, omega. Just a little later.” You pouted at his words and went to turn away from him, making him grab your cheeks with one hand turning you back to face him. “Don’t pout. It’s still a weekday, I have to work. Someone in this house has to make enough money to support nine people. I will be there in a few hours after I get some important work done.” You felt your lip tremble in his hold, his tone noticeably hardening and making you want to cry. Thankfully you were able to steel yourself and hold your tears back before you messed up your makeup. 

“Ok alpha, I understand. M’ sorry.”

His look noticeably softened. “You’ll have fun regardless, I promise.” He kissed you on your mouth and let go of you. “The boys are waiting for you, better go before they strangle each other.” 

You nodded, leaning up to give him another quick kiss, then scurrying yourself out the door. 

As you expected, the drive into town was.. Chaotic to say the least.  Chaotic yet comforting. You loved how authentically themselves they are with each other. You pressed your face to the glass of the window as you passed by downtown, seeing it set up with booths and market stalls and tons of people. A little further down  obscured by buildings you could make out the tops of some rides. 

“Cutie pie.” Jeongin tickled your side from behind as he watched how enthralled you became. 

Seungmin parked his car in a back lot and the lot of you clamored out. “The others are around here somewhere, they got a head start this afternoon.” Seungmin said, locking the car. 

Hyunjin grabbed one of your hands and Jeongin grabbed the other one. Both started to drag you along with them. “What should we do first, baby? Shopping? Food?” Hyunjin asked, pursing his lip in thought. “OOO how about rides?” 

“Yes, rides! You like rides, dontcha baby?” Jeongin beamed at you. 

“I love rides.” You beamed back, excited. Even back when you lived with your family you hadn’t been allowed to go to the fair in years. Your elder sister always made sure to bring you back something. Be it food, stuffies won from games, hell one time she even brought you a goldfish. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of her now. You remembered how she used to hold your hand, back when you were too small to be left to your own devices. You both used to be the best of friends, even though she was so much older than you she always made sure to include you in her plans. As you got older and presented as an omega, the bond you shared began to strain. She still had most of her freedoms as a beta. Your father didn’t hold her leash as tightly as he held yours and your mothers. She still got to go to school, have friends, meet boys.. In your teens you had resented her for it, but now you understand it wasn’t her fault she was able to have more of a life. It was your fathers. 

You wondered what she was up to since you left. And if she missed you as much as you now missed her. You missed your mom too. She was the only one you could relate to. There was a pain in your heart as you thought about how much she must have cried when you disappeared. 

A sourness was draining out of you in waves, your inner turmoil coming out for all to smell. It was only a second before you were being tugged into the arms of Jeongin; the alpha being able to smell it just before Hyunjin could. 

“Baby, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” He asked, keeping you close and away from any one else. 

“We don’t have to do rides right now if you don’t wanna!” Hyunjin said, trying to make it better but having no idea why. 

You shook your head, “No, no I’m ok. Nothing is wrong.” You gave them a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 

Jeongin tapped his nose, “I think you’re forgetting we can smell your emotions, omega. And I’m just saying, you do have a lot of emotions.” He saw your face fall in shame before he backtracked, “Not that it’s a bad thing! It’s not your fault your sensitive baby! I love it! Just not when you're upset like this.” 

“M’ sorry guys. I was just thinking about my family, how much my sister loved the fair. I didn’t mean to  make myself sad.” You hugged tighter into Innie, Hyunjin coming in and sandwiching you between them.

“I know you’ll never forget the memories you’ve made with your family, and of course I never want you too; but I hope that we can make more happy memories together as a new family. Ones that we can look back on when we’re old.” Jeongin had a light pink creeping onto his cheeks, his own sentiment making him shy. 

“Yeah memories we can tell our kids about!” Hyunjin added, pressing kisses to the back of your head. 

Now it was your turn to get shy, “You guys wanna grow old with me and have babies? You guys don’t eventually want to find someone who you don’t have to share?

They both shook their heads vehemently, with Jeongin answering first. “Of course we want to grow old with you baby! We took your mating bites, there is no one else for us for as long as we live. If you’ll have us…” 

“Yes I want you! All of you! I love everyone in this pack so much, I can’t imagine a life without all of you in it.” 

“And our babies?” Hyunjin added, sounding hopeful. 

You giggled “Yes Jinnie, and future babies.” You reached up and pinched both of their cheeks, laughing harder when they whined, smacking your hands away. “Any babies from you lot are going to be just the cutest. Now let’s stop being sappy and go ride some rides.” 

You took their hands again and tugged them off to have fun. You were feeling much better now, the boys having done a great job at taking your mind off of it. Though now, all three of you could only think of a litter of little chunky babies. 

The future is looking better everyday.

“Hey Changbin!” 

The alpha was perusing the food stalls, deciding which sweet to start with (though he knew he would eventually try all of them), when he heard his name being called. Behind him was Wooyoung, his hair slicked back and his hand in the air waving him over.

“What’s up bro?” Changbin went over to where the beta was standing, greeting him with a bro hug. “Thought you were busy with your uncle today.” 

“The old man let me go early.” Wooyoung replied, putting his hands in his pockets casually, and looking around. “You uh, here alone?” 

“Pfft, no. The whole pack is here, I think minus Chan. Old man never stops working.” Changbin replied, peeping at the goods at the stall they were by, and missing the glint in Wooyoungs eyes. 

“Chan is your head alpha, right?” What Changbin didn’t miss was the mild excitement lacing the betas voice suddenly. 

He looked at him with a side eye, “Yeaahh, he’s pack leader. Why?” 

Wooyoung did his best to look abashed, glancing away and then rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh you know me, just love a strong alpha. Woulda been nice to meet him.” 

Changbin laughed then, clapping Wooyoung on the back. “Don’t let your own alpha hear you say that. From what you said he can get pretty possessive.” 

The beta snorted, “You don’t know the half of it.. Anyways, do you wanna hang out for a while?” 

Changbin agreed enthusiastically, happy to have a companion for the day. The two of them meandered together, chatting and laughing. After a while Changbin got a text in the group chat, asking for whoever is closer to the ride section to come for a second. Changbin happened to be only a few yards from the rides area, thus he replied so. 

“Looks like Baby got a little motion sick, I’m gonna run and get her real quick.” Changbin said and turned to walk down the path. Wooyoung nodded, biting his lip to conceal his smirk. 

Everything was spinning, you couldn’t stand up straight or you would surely tumble down. You were leaning against Hyunjin for stability. 

“You’re alright baby, take all the time you need.” The beta said, rubbing your arm. 

“Too much spinning.” You mumbled, trying to get your bearings. “I think I’m done with the rides for now, boys.” You caught the crestfallen look on both of their faces, “But you guys don’t have to be done! I can go find another pack member to tag along with!” 

The boys shared a look, then Jeongin said “You’re not going off by yourself. I’ll see who’s around.” He pulled out his phone, typed for a moment then waited. After a minute or so he got a ding. “Perfect, Bin is around the corner. He’s coming to get you, baby.” 

True to his word there was Changbin coming towards you with open arms. “There's my sick little omega. Come to Binnie.” He pulled you off of Hyunjin and into his awaiting arms, giving you a hug. 

“M’ not sick, just a little too dizzy.” you said but allowed the hug. “Thank you for coming.” 

“Binnie to the rescue!” He flexed his arms, making a show of kissing his biceps. Jeongin faked gagged, making Changbin roll his eyes. “Come on, let’s leave these heathens to get so sick they throw up.” 

He took your hand and took you the opposite way from where you came from.  

“I really appreciate you coming for me, Binnie. You didn’t have to, I could have figured it out so I didn’t have to bother you.” 

He brought your joined hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand. “I will always come for you, baby. No bother at all. I was just hanging with Woo, looking at food.” 

Your stomach lurched at the mention of eating right now, making you grimace. “A water bottle sounds lovely right now.” 

Changbin waved at his friend, a man you had never seen before came striding up to the pair of you. “Baby, this is my friend Wooyoung.” 

“Hi, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You offered a shy wave, still holding onto Bin. 

The new man's gaze was intense as he took you in. There was something ominous in the way he looked at you, a clear eagerness residing behind his smile. “Nice to finally meet you too.” Even his voice had an eeriness you couldn’t place. 

‘Be polite Y/n, this is Binnies friend. Give him a chance.’ You thought to yourself, shaking off the negative thoughts. 

“I can finally put a face to the girl that has this pabo wrapped around her finger.”  Wooyoung pointed in jest at Changbin, who in return shoved him with a light blush creeping up his ears. 

“Shut up, Woo!” The alpha whined. That made you giggle, Bin was too cute sometimes. “Let’s get you that water, love.” 

You and Changbin walked ahead with Wooyoung following close behind. You both failed to notice when the beta pulled out his phone, taking a quick picture of you and sending it off in a text message. The only words accompanying the picture being ‘ found her’. 

Changbin bought you water and told you to let him know when it was finished, knowing you would want something after your stomach settled.  The three of you walked the downtown stalls, occasionally stopping to look at booths or for Bin to get another snack. After a while you started to feel better, no longer having a headache or the gurgling in your stomach and you found yourself accepting some of the offered bites and goods. 

You were munching on an oversized churro, listening to the two guys banter when Changbin stilled your walking with a dramatic gasp. “Look!” He pointed excitingly at a game booth. The game was one of those arm wrestling competitions, where the winner plays until they lose. “I gotta try!”

 He pulled you till him and Wooyoung were in line and you were waiting with them. The line went pretty quick, the current champ taking out people left and right. Soon there was only one person ahead of Changbin. 

“That game was made for you, Binnie.” You hyped him up with a laugh, rubbing his shoulders as if he was a fighter. “Show em who’s boss!”  

You stood off to the side as Changbin faced his opponent. You cheered him on as the arm wrestling began, both men giving it their all.  All too soon it was Changbin who forced the other man's arm down, claiming victory. The alpha jumped up and down animatedly, pumping his fists in the air. His next opponent was his friend Wooyoung. 

“You’ve seen how much I lift, Woo. You sure you wanna take me on?” Bin was being cocky, flexing at his friend. 

“Might as well give it a shot. Maybe I’ll win.” The beta responded, getting into position. 

In a matter of seconds Changbin had won again. Wooyoungs arm went down almost without resistance. 

“All that weight training and nothing to show for it.” Bin laughed, clapping the other man on the back. “We gotta work you harder from now on.” 

“Guess I gotta catch up before I can beat you.” Wooyoung shrugged, laughing too. 

Bin looked over at you, gleaming with joy at being undefeated. “Just a few more times baby, then we can go.” 

You sent him two thumbs up from your place a few feet away, “ Play as much as you want Binnie. I’m good staying here waiting for you.” He blew you a kiss then went back to playing. 

After a few minutes you finished your Churro. You went to take a drink from the lemonade  Bin got you, only to find it already gone. ‘Dangit Binnie! You said you didn’t want any!’ You glared at his back playfully, knowing he couldn’t see you. It was at this moment that Wooyoung shuffled up to you with a grin. You did your best to give him a polite smile in return. 

“Doin alright over here?” He asked you, being a touch to close for your comfort. 

You stepped back, now leaning against a wall and trying to appear natural. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just having my snack.” You lifted your now empty drink cup. 

“Ah Changbin went to town on that thing.” He laughed. 

“After he said he didn’t want any.” You laughed too, not being mad about it but still finding it amusing. 

“Do you want another one?” The man asked, still sporting his grin that gave you the chills (not in a good way). He motioned for your drink. 

“Um, “ You didn’t want to be rude. “No thank you. I should cut back on how much sugar I’ve had today. And I wouldn’t wanna inconvenience you. I’ll just wait for Binnie.”

He shook his head, “ It’s not an inconvenience at all. You look thirsty, let’s go get you another drink.” He grabbed your wrist and went to move with you. 

You dug your heels into the ground and attempted to pull your arm away.  You looked over to where Changbin was, he was too far away and cheering too loud to notice what was going on. “I said no thank you. I’m staying right here.” Now you were beyond nervous, eyes wide as you pulled again. 

“Come on, It’s just lemonade. The stall is right over there. Don’t be difficult.” He tried to keep up his nice guy tone, but you could tell he was getting frustrated. “I thought omegas were supposed to be nice and grateful.” 

He tugged you again, his grip tightening. You started to raise your voice despite the trembling in your lip “ I said no! I’m not going anywhere with you.” 

“Don’t yell you little -” 

“Get the fuck away from her.” 

Minho was across the way, browsing a booth selling tiny animals made of rocks. He wasn’t initially going to buy anything -he just liked to browse- but he couldn’t help but stop, thinking of how excited you would be if he gifted you one of these. He wanted to show he did care about you but he wasn’t the best at verbally expressing his emotions. He figured this would do. 

After a looking for a few minutes he found the perfect one. A little cat made of some kind of pink rock. Rose quartz he would assume. He was happy with his find, quickly waving over the shop keep and pointing at the one he wanted. 

He was just finishing paying when he caught the familiar scent of the exact person who had been on his mind. Minho pocketed the little figure, and turned around with his head held high, searching for the source of that intoxicating aroma. All to quickly that scent started to sour, indicating you were in some kind of distress. 

Minho looked through the sea of people until his eyes locked on your figure from the other side of the street. You were leaning against a wall, standing with someone. No, more like being grabbed by someone. Getting closer he could see who it was. 

Wooyoung.

“That son of a bitch.” He murmured, now starting to walk quickly over to where you were. He didn’t want to run and cause a scene, well more of a scene than he was about to cause, he didn’t need anything else making his pack look bad. 

He got to you to see Wooyoung holding your wrist, not letting you go as you tried to pull away. 

 “ I said no! I’m not going anywhere with you.” 

“Don’t yell you little -” 

“Get the fuck away from her.” Minho practically snarled, pushing the younger beta away from you and getting in his face. “What the fuck is your deal?” 

Wooyoung let go when he felt the contact from Minho. “Hey man, it’s alright, just a misunderstanding.” 

“A misunderstanding huh?” He scoffed, not moving away from Wooyoung. “Here's something you should understand. Stay the fuck away from Y/n and Changbin. I don’t know what the fuck is your motive here, but this is your only warning. Stay. Away. From. them. Or I will hurt you.” The tone he used was venomous, his glare deadly. 

By now this altercation has attracted some attention, a few onlookers stopping to watch the scene unfolding. Not that any one of you cared much, too caught up in it yourselves. You just watched on in horror, praying this didn’t escalate into violence.

“Is that a threat, Minho?” Wooyoungs look hardened, glaring at the elder. 

“I don’t make threats.” 

“Woah woah woah! What is going on over here?!” Changbin had come running, now paying enough attention to hear the commotion. He put his body between Minho and Wooyoung, separating the two. 

“Keep better track of your ‘friend’, Changbin.” Minho spat, he shoved a finger into his chest, making him stumble. “He grabbed our omega. Good fucking job watching her by the way.”

“Hyung, I don’t understan-” 

“Yeah of course you don’t fucking understand. You are too fucking trusting. You don’t even know this guy and you left him with the most precious thing in our pack? Get a fucking grip.” Minhos words were like a stab to Changbins chest, the impact sitting heavy. “Tell him to keep his fucking hands to himself, and then stay away from him. I’m not joking, Changbin.” He turned to walk closer to you, putting his hand on your back and leading you away, past the onlookers. 

“Min where are you going?” Changbins voice broke as he called out. 

“I’m taking Baby home, away from him.” He replied in a hard tone, not turning around to address him at all. 

You were on the verge of tears, trying to contain your emotions but they took over anyways. You didn’t want to be around Wooyoung so you just let Minho lead you away. 

Changbin shook his head in grief. Then he turned to face Wooyoung who was still standing behind him. “What did you do?” 

“Changbin, it was nothing.” The beta tried to shrug but Changbin wasn’t buying it. Not this time. 

“You know what, Wooyoung? I think Minho’s right. Maybe I should stay away from you. You say and do some weird shit sometimes. Don’t call me. Don’t come by my gym. We’re done.” Changbin turned and walked away. He had a lot to think about. 

That left Wooyoung by himself. He waited for a second then turned and walked the opposite way Changbin had gone. He kept going until he was a few yards away from any of the townspeople, then he took out his phone. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

 Pause.

 “No, she got away from me, I couldn’t cause a big scene like that.” 

Pause.

 “I know where to find her. I’m sure you’d love to hear about her new alpha.” 

Minho silently walked you all the way to the parking lot. Just arriving was Chan, seeing you both approaching. “Hey! Having fun?” He asked, then he noticed the hard pressed look on Minhos face and the tears in your eyes. “Oh no, what happened?” He reached up to wipe your tears, heart breaking at the little whimper you let out.

“Wasn’t me this time. I’m taking her home. This has been enough excitement for today.” At Chan's confused face he continued. “ I’ll explain it more to you later, for now you should check on Changbin. Make sure he’s not with his ‘friend’ “ Minho spit the word, clearly still steamed. 

Chan nodded slowly, feeling like Minho had his reasons for taking you. He kissed you and gave you a hug, pumping out comforting pheromones to help you calm down. He felt your shoulders relax slightly, and you hugged him even tighter. 

“Minho will take care of you, baby. I will be home soon to check on you, ok?” The alpha said, kissing your cheek this time. You nodded into him and let him go. Being in his hold helped to ground you; remind you that you’re ok. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Channie.” 

Minho led you further into the lot and to his car. He opened your door for you and waited for you to be seated, then he reached over you and tried to buckle you in. It was at this point you were done being babied. “ I can buckle my own seatbelt Minho. I don’t need you to do it for me.” You attempted to grab it from him but he pulled it back and glared at you. 

“Oh you don’t need me to do this for you but you need me to save you?” He scoffed, finally buckling you in and slamming your door shut. 

“I didn’t ask to be saved by you.” You replied snarkily when he opened the drivers side door and climbed in. 

He turned to look at you, really taking you in for the first time that day. He took note of your teary eyes and the scrunch of your brow. He also noticed that the marks that were on your neck and shoulders were gone. 

“Where are your claiming bites?” 

His question threw you off. “Huh?” 

“Your bites and marks. They’re gone.” 

“I covered them with makeup.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why? Are you embarrassed? Don’t want everyone to know you're taken by us?” 

“Of course I’m not embarrassed! I just wanted to look presentable in public!” You narrowed your eyes, “And there's no mark on me from you Minho, so I don’t know what you mean by us.” You knew you were being a little petty, but honestly you didn’t give a damn. 

He scoffed, a borderline menacing glaze taking over his face. “ Is that why you're acting up? Because I haven’t laid my bite into you yet? Grow up. You’ll get it when I’m good and ready to give it to you.”  He started the car, and began to back out of the spot. 

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms and looking out the window. You didn’t have a reply that wasn’t an insult so you thought it better to keep your mouth shut. The whole drive home you and Minho ignored each other, opting to drive in silence. Both of you are stewing in your own thoughts. 

Soon enough the car pulled up to the house. You shot out of the car as soon as he parked, barely giving him a chance to turn off the vehicle. As you went up the steps you heard Minho's car door slam after he stepped out. 

You had made into the doors threshold when he grabbed your arm, halting your movements. “Go wash that filth off of you.” 

Filth? 

“Do you mean the makeup?” Or did he mean Wooyoungs stench?  

He huffed, “Yes, I don’t like it on you.” You were about to protest, but when you went to open your mouth he leaned his face closer to yours and lowered his voice. “It’s the least you could do after I brought you all the way home and away from danger.” 

You decided the matter is not worth the fight.

“Yes sir.” You rolled your eyes as you said it sarcastically. Minho resisted a growl at the title, biting his lip instead and showing off those bunny teeth of his.

 You pulled your arm free and stormed into the house and up the stairs. You did make it a point to slam the bathroom door shut, though.

You knew you shouldn’t have been so rude to him, especially after he stood up for you and got you out of that frightening situation- but you couldn’t help it. Minho was the only person you were testy with, and clearly neither of you understood why. 

The house was quiet. No one else was home yet, it was just you and Minho, and the latter was making no sound at all. It was almost eerie. You removed the makeup from your neck in silence, using the wipes provided by Hyunjin. You finished the task quickly and headed out into the hall. You rounded the corner to go to Chan's room to hide away, but before you could open the door a hand grabbed you and wrapped loosely around your neck, and a sturdy chest at your back. Your movements were halted completely as you screamed in fright, your hands coming up to grab the offending hand.  

“So you can listen to me.” 

It was Minho. You were so in your own head you didn’t even sense him nearby. 

“Minho.. What are y-” 

“Shhh,” You felt his lips by your ear, the rasp of his whisper making you shudder. “ You look so good with these pretty marks of yours showing. Purple is my favorite color, you know? And the boys sure did a good job covering you in it.” 

You felt his lips brush against your neck, lingering on the biggest hickey at the base, and his tongue poked out to touch the bruised skin. The actions felt so erotic, so sensual, yet he was barely doing anything to you. Your heart was beating so fast in your chest you were sure he could hear it pounding- if not being able to feel it in your throat. He wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you, only hard enough to hold you in place. 

When the light brushes of his lips turned into full on sloppy smooches you started to lose your cool, your hand tightening around his that still held your neck as a mewl escaped your mouth. You could feel his smug smirk against your skin and you would have rolled your eyes if the situation had been different. His other hand found its way to your hip and he pulled your body even closer to his, his chest now flushed against your back. 

“Here’s what's gonna happen, omega.” You bit back another whimper at the mention of your presentation. “We’re gonna put an end to this stupid tension you and I share. You are going to be good for me and do as I say, and in return I’m going to fuck you so good you forget your own name. Do you understand?” 

You tried to nod your head frantically but with the way his hand tightened as he held your head in place told you he wanted a verbal response. “Y-yes, Min. I u-understand.” Your voice came out raspy as you tried to hold back showing your arousal yet doing a terrible job. Your panties began to dampen further when you heard his little chuckle in response to your stuttering. 

He hummed into your skin, “Mmm good girl.” He kissed your neck again and his hand traveled from your hip to your ass. He gave the cheek a squeeze, cupping it over your shorts and he hummed again. Your breathing picked up when you felt it and your eyes were falling shut as a result of all of the light stimulations. Then right as your lids finally shut he stopped; taking his hand from your throat and backing up from you. 

“Huh?” Your breath returned to you in full and you spun around to face Minho. 

He gave another chuckle at your confused expression. “What? Did you think I was gonna take you right here in the hallway? No no. I’m not that much of an asshole.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him down the hall in the direction of his room. “Plus, how else am I going to get your scent all over my sheets if I don’t have you in them?” 

You felt your face burn as he tugged you along, loving the thought of him wanting your scent all over him all the time. He opened his door and pulled you inside. The second the door was closed he had your back against the door and his arms on both sides of you caging you in. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in and looks into your eyes, as if he can see straight through you and into your soul. 

You lifted a hand up to his face, using your thumb to rub his cheek- so softly he could have missed it if he wasn’t so focused on your touch. “Min…” 

The whisper of his name was the scissors cutting the thread, his last strand of willpower snapped  and he was on you. His mouth was burning hot as he crashed it against your own. You returned his enthusiasm by reciprocating and the two of you devoured each other. His kiss wasn’t soft or sweet; instead it was desperate and frantic- as if he had been longing for this just as you have.

The taste of Minho's mouth was exquisite. It was very similar to how he smelled but richer. It was slightly tart and tannin rich- almost like a dark wine that's been aged to perfection. You moaned weakly into him when he ran his tongue on your own, now the two appendages fighting for dominance. 

His hands left the door and went to the base of your ass, gripping and massaging your lower cheeks, fingertips digging into the meat. He bit your bottom lip , almost drawing blood with his bunny teeth. “Fucking love these little shorts. Your ass looks so good it should be a crime. Can’t believe Chan let you out of the house looking like this.” He gripped tighter and you whined from the light pain. “If it were up to me you would never be able to show off  your sexy body to anyone outside this house. Though if it were up to me, you wouldn’t be able to leave at all. I’d keep you here, naked and ready for us to play with whenever we wanted.” 

An involuntary mewl left your lips. His words ignited a flame within you; your inner omega panting and begging for that reality. A rush of slick gushed out of you and in your panties. Minho's nostrils flared and his pupils dilated when he caught the sweetness that he knew to be the scent of your arousal. 

His hands went to your thighs, “Jump.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and did as he said, jumping into him as he hoisted you up. The muscles in his arms flexed as he carried you to his bed. He dropped you on his bed, your back hitting the softness with a small bounce. You leaned back on your elbows as you took him in. Minho was standing at the foot of the bed gazing down at you with wild eyes, and his breathing labored. You hadn’t noticed before but he was sporting a dark pair of jeans and a black tank. His hair had been pushed back but a few wispy strands fell over his eyes anyway. He looked incredibly mouthwatering. 

He sported a cocky smirk as he palmed his hard on through his jeans. In his mind you resembled a bunny rabbit; with your big glassy eyes and trembling lips- and he was the wolf that wanted to swallow you whole.

Ironic given that you thought he also looked like a bunny. 

“Take your clothes off.” You went to shuck off your top but the beta tsked, “Uh uh, slowly f’me baby.” Minho didn’t believe in instant gratification- not even for himself. 

You sat up a little more and with shaking fingers you found the laces on your top, undoing them as slow as you could while also steeling your nerves. He was watching you like a predator, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he focused on your nimble fingers. He appeared to be much more put together than you mentally and physically. You eventually got your shirt off and your breasts were freed, the AC in the house made your nipples harden.  You then moved on to your shorts. You looked right into his eyes as you undid the buttons and the zipper, slowly pushing them down your legs and off of the bed. 

You could feel the intensity of his aura; his general assertiveness coming off of him in waves and making you want to submit fully to him. He could tell you to jump off a bridge and you would probably do it without question. Even though he wasn’t an alpha (a fact you love to remind him of) he still held domination like one. You guessed that was a natural side effect of being second oldest and second in command of a pack of men. 

Finally you got your shorts down your legs, now being almost completely naked except for your underwear. Just as you went to pull down your underwear he stopped you. “Wait, leave 'em on while I get a good look at you.” Minho’s eyes roamed all over you and made you feel slightly self conscious, your hands going to cover your chest but the growl he let out halted your movements. “I said I want to look at you, don’t you dare cover yourself from me.” Your hands reluctantly fell back to your sides. “Thata’ girl. Mmm those are some pretty panties you got on, omega. Look strangely like one of the pairs I picked out for you. Pink is definitely your color.” 

You hadn’t even realized you had on the frilliest pair he had gotten you. It was a baby pink and brazilian cut, made of intricate lace that had small bows at the edges and the waistband was sparkly. It was definitely one of your cutest pairs and it was very comfortable. He definitely knew how to pick lingerie…  and it just occurred to you he could most likely see how wet you were through the material. 

“I love this pair. It’s one of my favorites.”  You said, looking away from him after your admittance not wanting to see his the self satisfied grin you knew he was sporting. 

“Show me how much you love them.” 

You were confused. “I-I don’t understand..” 

“You said you loved that pair.” He tilted his head condescendingly. “Show me how much you love them. Touch yourself while wearing them.” 

You were speechless, your mouth agape as you looked at him in trepidation. “I uh, Minho I don’t, uh..” 

The beta put both hands on the foot of the bed and leaned down so he was closer to you, “Didn’t you say you would be good and listen to me for fucking once?” You nodded hesitantly, biting your lip. “Then do as I say and rub your pussy through those cute little fucking panties.” 

He stood again and gave you room, motioning for you to get on with it. You avoided eye contact as you took a deep breath and brought your hand to your center, gingerly running your fingertips along the soaked material hiding your core. You lightly dipped your finger into the fabric, teasing your hole then moved the digit up to your covered clit. Your chest was heaving as a moan left your lips. You touched the bundle again, this time there was more pressure that made your hips buck up into your hand. You heard him curse so you risked a quick look over to him and the sight was a spectacle to say the least. 

The man had his pants unbuttoned and lowered to his mid thigh, and his big hand was palming the erection over his underwear. He never took his eyes off you, his eyes flickering between your face to watch your expressions then back down to your hand that played with yourself. You felt yourself gush more slick and you moaned, now finding a good rhythm on your clit. 

The tension was so intense that you felt your high approaching in record time. Whispers of his name came from you and your tongue ran along your lips. “Min, Minho, I’m- m’ gonna..” 

“You wanna cum, baby?” He was being patronizing, even as he gripped his member harder.

 You nodded vehemently, right on the precipice. “Yes, yes!” 

“That’s too fucking bad. Don’t you dare cum.” 

You gasped when his other hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, halting your rubbing and ruining your orgasm. “Minho! What the fuck? Whyyyyy?!” There were tears welling on your lash line.  

You always look so pretty when you cry

He laughed at your expression, “You think you get to cum just like that? Like you deserve to after the way you consistently defy me? Nuh uh, I think you gotta work for it a little more.” He let go of your wrist but remained leaning over you. “Start again, this time with more vigor.” 

You wanted to protest, to refuse to adhere to his game- but you knew either way you would be doing as he commands. So with a wet pout your shaky fingers returned to the place between your thighs. 

This time your touches were more delicate, but that wasn’t what Mihno was after. He shook his head at you, eyes narrowing at your almost defiance. 

“Harder, omega. Rub her nice and good. I wanna see you squirm.” 

Ah, now you knew the game he was playing. He wanted you to put on a show for him, so you would do exactly that. 

You gave your clit a circling with your finger, then slipped it down your slit then back up again quickly. You felt yourself clench on nothing and more wetness left you, now it had completely drenched the fabric and was making you uncomfortable. Still, the sensations were delicious nonetheless.

All too quickly you were once again built back up and your orgasm was a few rubs away. You knew what you had to do to get what you needed. 

“Minnnn,” You whined, looking right into his eyes now. “Please, wanna cum. Been good for you, please let me.” 

He looked like he was thinking about it, and just as you thought he was going to grant your wish, he grabbed your hand again and made you stop. You let out a groan of frustration, tears now descending down your cheeks. 

“Please stop teasing me! I can’t take it!” 

“Or what? Gonna cry about it? Little crybaby omega, always blubbering. Well go ahead and cry for me. Let me see those pretty tears.” His voice was soft but his words were mean; the difference giving you whiplash and making you cry harder giving him exactly what he wanted.

Minho bit back a moan of satisfaction at the sight of your tears. He just loved to watch you cry, it made him even harder than he was before (as impossible as it seemed) and scratched the mild sadistic itch that laid within him. Soon he wanted to watch you cry while you sucked and gagged on his cock, but that would wait for another day. 

You sniffled and sobbed, unable to contain the dam that had been broken while he cooed at you. Min shucked off his pants while you wiped your eyes, then he leaned over your body and caressed your now wet cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin. You let out a wet squeal when you felt his tongue on your cheek as he lapped up your salty tears. He pulled back with a moan and his eyes shut. 

“Such a good little omega, being so obedient for me.” He nuzzled into your neck, nipping at you with a purr. “I don’t even have to be an alpha to make you do as I say right now, hmm? You're so desperate for my dick you just give into my demands.” 

One thing you noticed about Minho was that he had a strange complex about not being an alpha. He seemed to get upset when it was mentioned that he wasn’t one or when he couldn’t command the respect of one. And now he was even bringing it up in the bedroom. 

‘Maybe that’s why he takes it so personally when I attempt to defy him.’ You thought to yourself but chose to not mention it outloud. 

“How bad do you want to cum, omega?” 

“So so bad!” You continued to cry, now your hands were on his chest tugging at his shirt, “Need it, Min.” 

“As much as I like the sound of my name on your lips, I think I want you to call me something else.” He ground his hips against yours, “Call me ‘sir’.” 

How mortifying. If you had known your snide comment would lead to this you would have never made it. But if you were being honest with yourself, you kind of liked it. 

“Please sir.” 

“Fucking hell.” That was the straw that broke the camel's back. The beta roughly shoved down your panties, the fabric was soaked and wanted to cling to your nether lips, there was a string of your arousal that came with the garment as it was removed from you. 

The kisses you had shared before were child's play compared to the one he gave you now, the clashing of teeth and tongues making you feel lightheaded. Never would you have imagined the amount of passion and all consuming vigor that he would be able to channel into something as simple as a kiss, yet it had you careening into space at a devastating pace. 

Minho's fingers wasted zero time in running his fingers through your slick then spreading it around your core, soaking your skin even more. A desperate whine burst from you into his mouth, tears still steadily leaking down your face as his fingers purposefully avoided your aching bundle. 

“Please, please Minho. Need you to fuck me, I can’t take it.” 

 There was no better sound in the world than you begging for him, but you used the wrong name. He laid a sharp smack against your center, the wetness splashing with the contact. You let out a hiss at the pain. 

“That’s not my name. Try again.” 

Goddammit, he wasn’t going to let you off easy. 

“Sir, need you. Need your cock, Sir please. Need to be filled by you.” 

Minho quickly removed his boxers and threw them on the floor. Then he repositioned himself over you with a cocky smile. “Careful what you ask for, baby.” 

He gave no warning before he plunged into you, filling you completely and bottoming out in one single thrust. Your eyes rolled into your head as you threw your head back with a deafening cry. “Nggggg oh my gooooood.” 

“Holy fucking shit. Now I see what all the fuss is about.” He started to thrust into you at a punishing pace, his whole weight on top of you. “ You really do have the tightest and wettest pussy in the world. Can’t believe I waited so fucking long to fuck you.” He laid messy kisses to your neck, sucking harshly on the skin and adding his own marks to the ever growing collection. 

Your hands were gripping his hair and you cried and moaned in his ear. Sighs and whimpers of ‘sir’ ‘s’good’ and ‘please’ leaving you and being music to his ears. 

Minho sat back on his knees, taking his weight off of you and your hands scrambled out to him attempting to pull him back to you. You cried out at the sudden emptiness you felt when he pulled out with no warning. 

“No sir! Don’t go!” Your blubbering started again, your emotions running high at the consistent denial. “M’ good f’ you! Please Sir, need you back in me.” You were crying harder than you had this whole day, begging for him. 

Minho used his red tip to slap against your clit, a resounding wet ‘smack’ filling the room along with your cries. “Hear that? Here the way your pussy cries for me? The way even she begs to be filled? Don’t worry, omega. Sir will give her what she wants.” 

It was humiliating; the way he addressed a part of your body as if it wasn’t attached to you, like your pussy was its own entity with its own consciousness. You wanted to cover your face and hide so you put your hands over your face. 

“Don’t you fucking hide from me.” His growl was deep and menacing, his eyes narrowed at you. “You look at me when I fuck you.” 

Still sitting back on his knees with his back straight, Minho grabbed your hips and lifted you up enough to haul your butt over his thighs to be flush on him, and rammed his member back into you. 

This position allowed him to go even deeper than before, your eyes shot open and a scream left you at the pleasure. “Sir! Ngghhhgg fuck sir!” Your hands balled into fists as you held the sheets below you. 

“Arch your back.” He demanded through his panting. You did as he said and it somehow made you feel even closer to him. “Mmmm there we go, nice and deep in there.” He began to sweat, the teasing and playing with you has finally caught up to him. His thumb went down to where the two of you met and he found your clit, rubbing hard and precise circles on your throbbing bud.

“Fuck! Oh my god! Min-Sir, need to cum, please please let me cum this time. Please.” You were crying and babbling so hard you started drooling, mouth and eyes alike leaking wetness that dripped down your face and onto the man's bed.

His thumb pressed even harder on your clit, and gave you a lusty look, with his eyes set on yours as you begged. 

“Cum for me, omega. You’ve earned it.” 

Immediately you let go, the cord inside finally getting permission to snap. Your essence gushed out of you and sprayed onto his shirt, soaking the fabric so much that if it were any other color than black Minho was sure it would stain.  

Minho had never seen anyone cum so hard in his life, and it boosted his ego even more. It sent him hurdling quickly towards his own orgasm.

You were completely at his mercy, your mind was floating far from you and you let him manhandle you again, pushing your legs back as far as they could go by your head and he leaned back over you. His hips were snapping against you rigorously with his balls smacking your butt with each thrust. 

You kept muttering little whispers of his name and ‘sir’ in his ear, your head falling to the side to show him your neck; a sign of utter submission. “Sir, bite.. Wan it…” 

 Every ounce of the betas self control was thrown out the window, your true omega self coming through as you surrendered to him being the final push. He buried his face onto the skin of your neck - though not your mating gland- and bit into you. 

 If you could describe it, his bite was like being doused in oil and set aflame; all consuming yet you welcomed the burn. You were shaking as you felt him deepen his bite, his teeth digging as far down as he could possibly get. He wanted his bite to leave a long lasting reminder of what happened here. 

It was becoming too much for you, your core was clenching and spasming as you came for the second time in mere minutes. At the feeling of your palpitating walls clamped around him, Minho finally came with a snarling growl, teeth still latched onto you as his hips stuttered. Rope after rope of his burning hot cum entered you and filled you to the brim. 

Minho finally let go of your neck with his teeth as he pulled back to look at you. Your eyes were droopy and your face was wet and your lips (along with your whole body) were trembling. You were a mess.  A beautiful debauched mess. The most beautiful sight he had ever seen. 

Min wasn’t looking much better. His skin had a sheen of sweat and his eyes were crazed. His mouth was dripping with your blood but he made no move to wipe it away. 

There was a beat before either of you moved, though he could if he so desired, but Minho was beginning to become addicted to the way you felt wrapped around his length. He knew you probably couldn’t take any more at this time though. With a deep breath he slowly pulled out of you. You both could hear the squelch of your combined fluids cascading out of you like a waterfall. 

You groaned when he exited you, your walls were so sensitive after the pounding he gave you. 

“Shh baby, I know it hurts. You’re ok, omega.”His voice was soft and even as he petted your hair, “I’ll be right back, just take it easy for me.” 

You whined again when the beta slipped off the bed, grabbing his boxes and leaving the room quickly. Only a few moments passed before he returned with a rag and a small first aid kit. In his absence he had cleaned the blood off his face. He approached you with a soft smile, “Hold still baby, need to clean you up.” 

“Mhm” You mumbled, still clearly out of it. 

Min first used the wet rag to clean you up between your legs, wiping you down of any left over cum and fluids. When he deemed you thoroughly cleaned he tossed the rag in the corner to deal with later. Then he brought out the antiseptic from the first aid kit. He dabbed a cotton pad in it then used it to dab at your fresh bite mark. You hissed at the sting, wanting to squirm away. 

Minho cooed at you, “Nuh uh, gotta get the blood off so it doesn’t get infected. Lord only knows I’d never hear the end of it if it’s my bite that doesn’t heal.” He cynically murmured that last part but you still caught it, a little giggle coming from you as you slowly came too.  “You did so good for me, ya know? Were the most perfect little omega.” 

You purred at his praise, unable to stop the lovesick smile from etching into your lips. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.” 

He scoffed lightly, not in malice but more so in disbelief. “ You’ve always been a perfect omega.” He finished cleaning your wound and put the kit to the side then he climbed on next to you. 

He laid on his back and softly pulled you to rest on his chest as he pet your head. There was silence except for the sound of your breathing, but it wasn’t awkward. Oddly enough you found it comfortable as it gave you a moment to collect your thoughts. You imagined he was feeling similar. 

You tentatively reached for his hand and he let you. He gave your hand a squeeze then loosened the hold, instead laying his hand flat against yours and comparing the difference in size. He played with them for a second, his fingers able to slightly curl over your tips. 

“You have baby hands.” 

You snorted at his sudden comment, then looked up at him to find him already gazing down at you. “Maybe that’s why you all call me baby.” 

“Mmm” he hummed, still looking at you. “That among other things.” 

“Like what?” You raised a brow curiously. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He laughed when you whined, “Ok, fine. We call you baby because we cherish you. You’re something worth caring for.” 

His words made you pause, your hand tightened its grip on his hand and your other one fisted his shirt. That definitely was not the answer you were expecting. You honestly thought he was going to say something like ‘you cry a lot’ or ‘you whine too much’ and had mentally prepared for that answer. To know the real answer was something so genuine and romantic made your heart pound. Your lip began to wobble and the tears gathered on your lashes. 

“That, and you whine too much.” 

“Minho!” You smacked his chest lightly as he laughed. You were still crying and he brought a hand up to wipe it off your face. 

“Aww don’t cry, baby.” He was cooing at you, “You’re gonna make me hard again.” 

You brushed his hand away and buried your face in his chest. “Stooooop. You’re not funny.” 

“Who’s joking?” 

Your whole body heated from your bout of shyness and you refused to leave the safety of his chest, since you knew for a fact he would have that cute stupid smug look on his stupidly cute face. 

“I couldn’t go again right now even if I wanted to. My body is exhausted.” Your words were muffled but he still heard them, bringing that cocky smirk to his face. 

“So,” here we go, “ you’re saying I fucked you so good you physically can’t take anymore?” 

“You are the worst!” You whined, shoving him but laughing all the same.

There was another pause. Min still never stopped his delicate touches on your head. Then he broke the silence again.

“You don’t really think I’m the worst, do you?” His voice was soft yet even, as if he was trying not to show too much emotion at the question, though you could tell this was something he was self conscious over.  

“Oh Minho,” You lifted your head up to look into his eyes, though he refused to meet yours, instead staring straight ahead.  “No, of course not. Not a single one of us thinks that.” Your hand went up to his chin, trying to tilt his face down so he could look at you. 

“It’s not a secret I’m a little opinionated and hyphy. I know my attitude isn’t everyone's cup of tea. I mean, look at us, it took us how long to get here?”  

“But we made it here!” You wanted to protest but still kept your tone light. “Min, the pack cares so deeply for you. They hold the utmost respect for you and love you.” You took a deep breath and closed your eyes tight. “And so do I.” 

Silence 

Silence

Silence

“Look at me.” 

You shook your head, refusing his request. 

“You’re going to have to look at me. Especially if you’re going to give me a claiming bite.” 

That made you snap your eyes open. The beta sported a toothy grin, his beautiful bunny teeth on display for you. 

“You-you want my bite too?” You sniffled, wiping your eyes again. 

“Well, if not from the girl I love then who?” He was being WAY too casual about it but at the same time you could see the pink dusting on his cheeks. “Unless you don’t want to.” 

“Minho” you blubbered into him again. You turned your body to be chest to chest with him and you threw your arms around him. “I want to! Wanna make you mine too, please!” 

“Ok ok, baby don’t cry it’s alright.” He sat up higher so his back was against the headboard. He pulled you to climb into his lap fully, and you straddled his lap. He tilted his head to show more of his neck and he cradled you against him. “Be gentle with me, it’s my first time.” 

Of course he had to make a joke out of it. 

You chose to ignore his jest- though you did roll your eyes- and you started peppering his neck with little kisses. You wanted him to truly feel your love for him. He sighed in contentment and rubbed circles into your back. With your lips you mapped out the spot you would claim him then once your inner omega deemed it the perfect spot you bit down on him. 

He twitched from the sensation, a quiet moan rumbling out of his throat and his hand finding your head, knotting in your hair and pressing you even harder into him. It’s as if he wanted you to bite down harder. You did as your instincts told you and bit with more force. 

After lapping at the wound you remove yourself from him. Minho let you go as he found his breath, panting and eyes fluttering. His cheeks were beet red and his hair had fallen in his face. Honestly, he looked more fucked out now than he did after actually fucking. And he had never looked better.

Minho hugged you tight, then kissed you sweetly and got his own blood on his mouth but he didn’t seem to care. “Good girl.” 

A little chirp escaped you, you were clearly very pleased with the turn of events. And so was Minho. After you helped him clean the bite and wiped up the blood the two of you snuggled on his bed together and talked. It was still hard for him to open up, but he did give you some insight into his brain about how he feels. In return you did the same. It was much overdo and very therapeutic for the both of you. 

After another hour you heard the front door open and a cacophony of voices entered the house. Minho groaned when he heard it, “The idiots are back.” You laughed and rolled off of his chest. He picked up his forgotten phone and saw it was already late into the evening. “Ah shit, I have to start dinner.”

You whined and made grabby hands at him as he got off the bed. “Do you have too? I wanna cuddle some more.” 

He grabbed his pants off the floor and slipped them back on, “Yes omega, someone has to feed the children. And I need to talk to Chan.” After his pants were back on he felt something small and hard in his pocket. He stuck his hand in and pulled out the little trinket he had gotten for you earlier in the day. “Though I have something to keep you company.” He handed you the little pink cat. 

You squealed and pulled it up to your face to analyze it with a beaming smile. “How CUTE! Thank you so much!!” 

He just pecked your cheek in response. 

“Take all the time you want here baby. But soon Channie will probably come looking for you.” 

You huffed and laid back on his bed. You were not excited for that conversation. 

Chan watched as Minho hauled you off in the direction of his car. He had no idea what had occurred but he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He could smell the distress that radiated out of you and it made him wary and irate. 

‘Today was supposed to be a good day, what the fuck happened?’

The alpha stalked off in search of Changbin. He offered people polite hellos and smiles to all the people who greeted him. He was a pillar in this town and needed to act like it especially in public. He found the younger alpha striding away from the games area with a frustrated furrow in his brow. 

“Changbin.” Chan called to him and waved him over. He took notice of how Changbins face fell slightly at the sight of the elder, and he knew it to be a sign that something definitely went wrong here today. Changbin went over to Chan- albeit slowly- and came to stand in front of him. “Hey man, what is going on? I just ran into Min and baby and he said to come find you.”

Changbin bit his lip and blinked back the tears. Chan hadn’t seen him this emotional in a long time so he knew something was up. 

“Hyung, I think I made a big mistake.”

Minho went down to the kitchen first. He took some meat out from the fridge and set it on the counter to rest then he went to find the alpha. It didn’t take long as Chan was looking for him too. 

“Min.” He beckoned him to his office. Chan's face may have been hard to read but his eyes were steely. Once the door was closed he turned to the beta. “You saw him grab her?” 

Minho nodded, “Yes.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes Chan.” The beta clicked his tongue as he recalled it in his mind. “ He had his filthy hand on her arm and he tried to get her to go with him.” 

“And she was scared?” 

Minho nodded again. “Terrified. She didn’t want anything to do with him. If you had seen it you would have ripped his head off.” 

The alpha growled “If it was me there then there wouldn't be a head left to rip off. I’m surprised you didn’t take a swing yourself.” 

Min huffed, “There were a lot of people around. Though I was ready to put him in the ground if he didn’t back down.” 

“Wooyoung… The name is familiar but I can’t place my finger on it.” Chan started pacing as he racked his brain. 

“Changbin had been talking about him a lot. He was so happy to have made a new friend he wouldn’t shut up about it.” Minho rolled his eyes in distaste, “He didn’t know the guy would turn out to be a piece of shit.” 

“But you knew, didn’t you?” Chan asked. “Bin said you could tell but you didn’t say anything.” 

“I knew there was something funky about him, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt for Changbins sake.” Chan nodded at the betas words. Then he just had to ask. He smirked a little, “So what happened with you and omega after you got home?” He could clearly see the brand new claiming bite on the betas neck. 

“Nothing much, we just worked out our differences.” He gave him a cheeky wink in return though he felt his face heat up. “Anyways, where is Bin? I didn’t hear him come in and usually he’s the first one I hear.” 

Chan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “He didn’t come home with us. He’s too ashamed of himself and said he wanted to walk home to think about how clueless he was.” 

“How hard were you on him?” 

“Well I wasn’t sunshine and daisies. But everything I said to him he had already been thinking to himself. He was definitely beating himself up over it.” 

“Did you give him a punishment?” Chan nodded at the question. “What is it? Is it that he can’t touch Y/n like you did with Felix?” 

“Worse.” 

“Worse? What could be worse than that?” 

“I took his car keys and forbade him from going to the gym for a week.” 

“Oh my god he’s never going to come home.”

You didn’t come out immediately. You wanted to have a few moments to yourself to collect yourself and your thoughts. Eventually you knew you needed to make an appearance. You pulled on one of Minhos shirts that you took from his closet as you exited his room. You missed your boys and wanted to spend some time with them. You padded into the living room to find the four youngest boys sitting on the couches holding beers and laughing with each other. 

Jisung was the first to notice you, yelling when you walked in the room. “There's my baby!” He was obviously drunk already, his eyes having trouble focusing on you as he giggled. “Come here gorgeous.” 

“Hi Ji.” You giggled and walked over to him. He grabbed you and yanked you onto his lap, tickling you more when you laughed. “No no no!” 

“Sungie don’t hog!” Felix whined from his place next to Jisung. “It’s not fair you’ve spent so much time with baby!” 

“Not true! I have barely seen her!” 

“Jisung, you literally had your tongue in her pussy this morning.” Seungmin deadpanned from across the room. “That’s more than we’ve had in days.” 

Jeongin and Felix laughed as Jisung pouted, still holding on to you. You on the other hand were mortified. 

“Don’t talk about me like I’m just a piece of meat for you to consume!” 

That made all four of them burst out laughing at your plight. 

“Aww baby, we know you're not just something to eat.” Felix cooed and unhooked Jisungs arms from you and hauled you onto his own lap. “We just all wanna spend time with you.” Then he leaned into your ear and lowered his voice. “Though, if eating you out was an option right now I’d happily take it. I’m starving.” 

You shivered at his husky and seductive voice in your ear. “Lixie..” 

“But by the way you smell and who’s shirt you're wearing.. Not to mention this new bite mark on your neck- I’d say Min already had a taste today.” 

“Stop it you!” You whined and pushed at his chest while he and the other boys cackled. “Since when are you the dirty one?!” 

“M’ just teasing you baby. I’m happy you and Min made up. Now we can all be one big happy family.” He nuzzled into you. 

At the mention of his name the beta appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “Quit being literal menaces to society and go set the table. Dinner is done.” 

The three boys around you groaned and got to their feet and shuffled to the dining room. You went to follow but were held back by Felix. “Lix we gotta help.” 

“Nah they got it. Just want a minute alone with my love.” He kissed you tenderly and you reciprocated. This boy was too sweet to refuse him. “Mm I love you baby.” 

“I love you too Lixie.” You kissed him again and he smiled against your lips. 

“Felix! Come help!” 

“Oop! Gotta go baby or he’s gonna cook me next.” 

You made your way to the table to see Chan and the other boys (minus Felix) all helping and sitting down. Chan smiled at you as you entered the room, reaching a hand out for you. You grabbed on to it and let him pull you into a kiss. 

“Hi baby. Are you feeling better?” 

You nodded, “Yes Channie. Min took good care of me and I feel much better.” 

“Min? We left you with Binnie, didn’t we?” Hyunjin asked, looking at the youngest boy for confirmation. “Were you that sick you had to come home?” 

“Oh uh, well-” You stuttered but were cut off. 

“You moron, don’t mention Changbin right now. There's a reason he’s not here.” Seungmin scoffed, picking up some food and serving it on his plate. 

It was then you noticed there was one empty seat at the table. Changbin had not come home. Chan noticed how forlorn you looked when you saw the empty chair. He cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. “We are not having this conversation right now. Changbin is not here on his own volition. That is all you need to know right now.” He was using his alpha voice to make his point known and they all nodded in understanding. 

No one brought it up again for the whole of dinner. They all carried on like nothing happened at all. Everyone except you. You couldn’t stop staring at the empty space at the table, and feeling guilty. You wished Changbin was here. You wanted to hold him and hear his loud contagious laughter. Your heart felt heavy with him being gone. Chan noticed your mood- of course he did- but he didn’t want to bring it up any further at the dinner table. 

Instead he waited until the dinner was complete. As soon as you were done eating he stood from his spot at the head of the table and came to your side. He scooped you into his arms, chuckling when you shrieked. “Hush now. I need my omega now.” 

The other guys hooted and hollered at you both as he carried you up the stairs. 

“Channie.. I’m too sensitive down there right now.” You murmured, your face aflame. 

He plopped you on his bed, then sat down next to you. “Oh baby, I know Min probably did some work on your poor kitty huh?” You nodded, and tried to hide your embarrassment. “We do need to talk, though my love. I need to know exactly what happened and what that bastard said to you.” 

As much as you didn’t want too, you knew your alpha needed to hear it from your own lips. So with a deep breath and a lot of tears, you recounted the experience. From start to finish he just let you talk. He was patient when you got choked up at the part about being grabbed, even though you could feel the rage that brewed inside of him at the thought of a man outside our pack laying a finger on you. 

If there was one thing Chan knew for certain, it was that someday soon, Wooyoung would pay for his indecencies. He would make sure of that. 

Alternate smut scene

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3

©doitforbangchan

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[robotpussy]

ok this is the first time ive ever had to do this but I really need the help right now. i know its going to be hard to get the full amount in the time that I have but any help would benefit me so greatly. i am putting the explanation under the cut as it is very long but TLDR:

I got into the film school of my dreams on a scholarship, but student finance will not pay for the full course fee because my university is independent, (£20k, SF can only pay £14.4k) so I have to pay the remaining fee (£5.6k) by June 1st. I cannot graduate if I don't pay this fee and I am under 2 months away from graduating. all evidence and explanation is under the cut.

gfm is here if the link above doesn't work

thank you to anyone in advance.

I have been studying filmmaking for 2 years at university and I am 2 months away from graduating. I got into this university through a scholarship that reduced the standard course fee in half. Usually, Student Finance/the government will pay for these course fees, but because my university is private, they are unable to pay the fee in full. My course costs £20k and Student Finance will pay £14,400 of this. This means I have to pay £5,600.

Here is the evidence and proof that I did get into my university on a scholarship and what my university offers in terms of fees:

I have been looking for financial support for 2 years (before I even started attending but had a confirmed place) and it has not been enough. I have contacted my local authority for years about the grant I am entitled to as a foster care leaver and the most I could receive was £2,000 that ended up going to paying my gas and electric bills.

I have also gone to many charities to ask them for support and many of the responses I got were "go to your local authority". I did find one charity that was willing to help me but the sponsors of the charity decided that I would receive a laptop and they would pay for the travel costs to my university for a year instead. I am eternally grateful for that but now I have nowhere else to go for this.

I would really appreciate any help I am already having a extremely hard time dealing my current eviction and I am on the verge if being homeless I would just like to get something off my back and I would rather graduate and get this over with. I am still actively working to find places that are willing to help me but in the time that I have now I would appreciate it if I could get something in the meantime.

[adore-laur]

hmmm maybe dadrry where he pretends to make her jealous but it doesn’t work bc they’re so secure in the relationship they just smirk and tease them, or that yn gets mama bear when she sees other moms hit on harry at school or daycare

——

In a couple of weeks, the preschool your eldest daughter attended was going on a field trip to a petting zoo in Montebello, California. Chaperone sign-up sheets were recently emailed to every parent, and you were debating with Harry about who should be the one to tag along. It wasn't a requirement to be a chaperone, but your worrisome maternal instincts sure made it one.

Harry was lying on the couch, his socked feet dangling over the armrest. You sat normally, your legs bent over his straightened knees, as you stared into space. The conversation kept hitting dead ends, but you were insistent on coming up with a solution as soon as possible. You had enough on your plate to deal with in the weeks ahead.

"Only one of us can chaperone the field trip," you repeated for probably the fourth time that night.

"I'm more than willing to take off work for it," Harry replied, his fingers casually laced over his chest. His eyes were closed since it was nearing ten p.m. and you hadn't been able to make up your mind about which parent should volunteer their time and energy toward the field trip. You had cornered Harry when he went to shut the living room lights off and forced him to sit down before he retreated to bed. It wasn't that you didn't trust him to be a chaperone—he'd definitely handle the controlled chaos that came with supervising a group of kids in an environment full of animals to gawk at. You just considered yourself a more watchful person, but really, it was an excuse to witness your daughter's interactions with her classmates and make sure she was adjusting well to being in school.

"I'm more than willing to as well. So..." You tapped your fingers against the couch cushion. "We need to make a decision right now. Signups are first come, first served."

Harry hummed in acknowledgment. "I can go."

You slowly nodded and said, "Okay. Well, so can I. You know, if you're not able to take off work."

He snorted a laugh and shifted his head, getting more comfortable. He was going to get a crick in his neck if this conversation didn't hurry along.

"What?" you asked, unsure why your reasonability was so amusing to him.

"You're funny."

You tilted your head back against the couch and sighed toward the ceiling. "Harry, I'm trying to get us ahead of the game. Otherwise, neither of us will be able to chaperone, and then our child will be in the care of a random parent."

Your trust in the preschool was substantial, yet a part of you was still cautious about the parents. You hadn't had the chance to build relationships with them since you started working part-time again. Your little girl was a wanderer, and if something caught her attention, she was off and admiring it without notice. Other parents didn't know that about her. What if they didn't pay close enough attention and accidentally let her get lost? The mere thought was why you were determined to claim an open spot as a chaperone.

"You're not making this particularly easy, honey," Harry said lightheartedly, tiredness rasping his voice. "I am actively telling you that I would love to be a chaperone instead of a chef for a day. Getting to pet adorable animals is also a plus."

"Maybe we can write both of our names down," you replied, deep in thought. Half of what Harry had said ricocheted off your brain.

"I don't think that's allowed." He yawned, stretching his arms. "Just put my name down. If work ends up being a problem, I'm sure they wouldn't mind you taking my place."

You contemplated his decision, then asked, "Did you read the chaperone responsibilities list?"

He frowned. "No, but there's time. The email was only sent this morning."

"You have to read it," you said firmly. He needed to be as prepared as possible. This was the first field trip of many, and rules have most likely changed since you were a kid.

In a lull of silence, Harry's hand caressed your ankle. "What are you so anxious about? Talk to me."

You wanted to say everything, but not even someone as wise as Harry could procure a remedy for that. "Nothing," you mumbled. "Just trying to have a solid plan in place."

"Are you worried the moms will be all over me? Pulling me aside and asking me"—Harry paused for dramatic effect—"burning questions?"

You looked over at him, taking in his sly little smirk. He was being like this on purpose. Not to make you jealous, since you were years past that phase—instead, it was a way to distract you from ruminating over minuscule matters.

"I’m not worried at all," you said confidently, flashing him a grin. "Because you know what to do if that happens, right?"

Harry wordlessly lifted his left hand, showing off his gold wedding band snugly fit on his long ring finger. Exactly, you thought to yourself.

"And what if they persist?" he asked, enjoyment clear on his face. You knew he loved this type of banter.

"You show them the picture of me that you keep in your wallet." You leaned toward him. "Then your last resort is calling me and putting whichever mom is flirting with you on the phone."

His teeth bit into his soft bottom lip. "Yes, ma'am."

You crooked your pointer finger, beckoning Harry closer. He sat up with a groan, his face now mere inches from yours. The hypothetical scenario caused misplaced jealousy to surge through your bloodstream, and you had to remind him of some things.

"You're my husband."

Harry traced the tip of his nose along your cheekbone and said, "Loud and proud, baby."

Your breaths became shallowed. "Father of our two children."

"And counting."

You pinched his waist, and he writhed with a heavenly laugh. "You're conventionally attractive, which piques a lot of people's interests. And while it used to bother me in the past, I know that your soul is tethered to mine."

His hands traveled an intimate path up your thighs. "It always has been," he said, his eyes sincere.

"So," you said with finality, your heart racing from his words, "I will let you chaperone the field trip. Because you always come back to me and our family, and I know work has been keeping you away from our girls."

"How do you turn the most mundane thing into a romantic declaration?"

"With you as my muse, it's pretty simple."

Harry moved closer and brushed his lips against yours. "If you keep melting my heart, I'm going to lay you down on this couch and make love to you until the sun rises."

"Risky," you whispered, smiling against his mouth. The kids were asleep down the hall. Any lovemaking would no doubt be interrupted by the baby monitor.

"Tell you what," he said, stealing a hot, deep kiss from you that left you briefly stunned. "This weekend, I'll have my parents take the girls for a day so you and I can love on each other without any distractions. I miss having you all to myself."

"I'm right here," you said, cupping his face. "And I'd appreciate it if you kissed me some more."

"I thought you needed to sign me up as a chaperone."

You kissed him three times in quick succession before saying, "Shut up and make out with me."

"Roger that," Harry murmured, towering over you until your back sank into the couch.

——

[satorusugurugurl]

Toji as a bodyguard

Til’ the Day that I Die

Summary: You’re a popstar in need of a bodyguard when you find yourself with a stalker. That’s how you meet Fushiguro Toji, you’re insanely hot bodyguard. Who knows how to push your buttons, and get you feeling flustered. Just how far is he willing to go to protect you? And how far would you go to protect him?

Pairing: Bodyguard!Fushiguro Toji x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: mentions of stage right, performance, anxiety, stalking, panic attacks, language mentions of gun, (eventual smut)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: this request is amazing!! It got my brain worms going! Once again, this will be a multi part series, I’m looking at a total of four parts as I have already planned down the whole story. I’m sorry for the lack of content, it’s been a rough few days and I just decided to take some time for myself! But I do have about four stories almost done so you can expect updates for the rest of the week! Love you all!! (Readers' stage persona is highly inspired by several artists! 😊)

Part Two Part Three Part Four

Performance anxiety is defined as an excessive feeling of fear related to being able to perform well. Symptoms of performance anxiety include pulse racing, rapid breathing, dry mouth, and throat tightness. Dealing with performance anxiety when you're a rising star is brutal, and you begin to regret all your life choices. You aren't sure if you want this to be your life. You were attending nursing school, but your sister posted a video of you singing online. Reading all the sweet comments was fun initially, but it's funny how fast things change.

One second, you were posting a few videos of you singing, and the next thing you knew, you had a record deal, your songs were on the radio, and you were performing at concerts. All in the span of six months. The attention was overwhelming, and, at times, your anxiety even worse. But the more you performed, the more you were able to bury the stage fright down, masking the fear with a persona you made until you were home in your apartment. In the confines of your home, you could cry and tremble; dealing with those attacks was something you’d gotten used to.

But your stalker was a whole new fucked up mess you never dreamed about dealing with.

It had started as nothing more than a couple of love letters that turned into more descriptive letters detailing information about your personal life you had never told anyone. Anytime you saw a letter come in with ‘M’ written on the front and dark gray ink, your stomach twisted. You at first thought you would be okay. You could handle something like this. This was the kind of thing that came along with the territory of being famous.

That was until a bouquet of roses was dropped off at your door in your guarded apartment building. That whole situation sent you into a full-blown panic attack. You left your apartment and went to stay with your friends. That incident caused your manager to contact Kong Security Services and hire you as a bodyguard. One, you were anxiously waiting to meet as you sat in your dressing room before your show.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise.” Nanako, your makeup artist, assured you as she fixed your blush. “Geto said this agency is the best in the business.”

You shot her a skeptical look while her twin sister fixed your hair. “Are you just saying that because your dad’s are my managers, and they told you to say that?” When both twins had ceased their movements in obvious shock at your to-the-point accusation.

“W-What—?”

“No, never!”

“Uh-huh—I don’t believe a word either of you are saying right now.”

Nanako steps back, looks you over, and bites her lip. “They really are the best, whether or not we get to go out for Boba after this. It’s not like sweet milk tea is on the line if we don’t ease your nerves.” Just as your sweet young makeup artist finishes, the door to your dressing, eyes darting towards the door as it swings further open. Suguru and his husband, Satoru, enter, displaying their matching black-and-white wedding rings. They were the best management company in the world, the power couple of Tokyo. Satoru, who was in charge of your social media accounts, types viciously on his phone while Suguru grins up at a man walking in with them.

If you could even call him a man.

A fucking mountain of muscle is a more appropriate way of describing him. He’s tall, has dark hair and navy blue eyes, and he’s fit. The mountain wore a tailored jacket and white button-down shirt with the first two buttons undone. His eyes leave Geto’s for a minute to watch you sinking further in your chair, his pink tongue running over the scar down the corner of the right side of his mouth.

“Hun, this is Fushiguro Toji,” Suguru announced before glancing at his phone. “He’s your bodyguard and will be with you everywhere you go.”

“E-Everywhere?”

“Yes, to rehearsals, your shows, meet-and-greets, he’ll even escort you home.” Your eyes rammed back over to the mountain of a man standing off to the side. When you have time off, or he needs a day away, his work partner Tsukumo Yuki will take over for him.”

You swallowed hard, fingers twitching, a subtle action your new bodyguard noticed immediately as you dug your fingers into your skirt. It was part of Toji‘s job to see behaviors and be observant. He could tell you were on edge from how your fingers twitched to how your pulse raced in your neck. His handler, Shiu, had warned him that you were an anxious mess after finding out about your stalker. But this anxiety didn’t come from just having a stalker. This anxiety was deeply rooted in you. It was probably something you had suffered with for years.

Without being told, Toji stepped forward, kneeling before you, giving you a gentle smile like a father would give a frightened child. He had to put your nerves at ease to let you know you would be okay. “I know you’re scared, but I can assure you that I am very skilled. You won’t even notice I’m around.” You weren’t sure about that. How could you not notice the handsome man who would always be around you?

“Right, thank you.”

“You’re welcome--”

“Ugh! We gotta get going; they expect you on stage in five minutes.”

“I-I s-shou—” you stuttered as the performing anxiety began to root itself into your already anxious demeanor.

“Yep, let’s get going.” Toji stood motioning towards the door of the dressing room. “After you, Miss.”

Being a bodyguard and a security escort for so long had allowed Toji to pick up on specific cues from people, like how their eyes moved around the room or how their body language told him what they were feeling. The way your fingers were twitching, he knew you were nervous and scared, and he wasn’t sure if it was stage fright or something to do with your stalker.

Regardless of whether you wanted to go up there, it didn’t change the fact that thousands of people were already waiting for you to perform. As you both walked down the hall, Tojo noticed you took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose, and as you turned the corner, you put on a huge smile. The way you put in a mask so fast nearly sent Toji stumbling back. He was usually prepared for the unexpected, but seeing this scared, shaking woman shift into a bubbly pop star rocked him back.

Everyone you encountered smiled wide at your perky voice and demeanor. You truly lit up the whole room. “Alright, guys! Thank you for all your hard prep! Now, let’s have a great show tonight!” You were handed a jeweled microphone and placed on a platform to lift you to the main stage, but before you gripped the handles to steady yourself, Toji grabbed your hand. “Oh, Fushiguro?”

“I'll be on the side, watching you. If you need me or notice something's off, you should give me a sign.”

“A sign? Like a signal?”

“Yeah, something easy and inconspicuous.”

You thought for a second, that perky look still on your face, but Toji could see the anxiety behind your eyes. “Well, I wink a lot during my shows and throw a heart sign up.” Toji hummed, pursing his lips together.

“Well, if you don't want to alarm your fans, how about this.” he took your hand, putting your middle and ring finger down. Your thumb, pinky, and pointer finger were left extended.

“Oh, the sign for ‘I love you’!”

“Only use this if you need me on stage. Otherwise, do what you normally do, but know I’ll be right there if you need me.”

There was a flicker of fear in your eyes, which probably would go unnoticed by many different people, but it was one that he could see clearly as day. “Right, thank you, Fushiguro.” Your new bodyguard looked at you as he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Toji, just call me Toji. There is no need for formalities. Have a good show, Miss.”

“R-Right, thank you, Toji.”

Your new bodyguard watched as the platform began to lift, taking you up to the stage where fans were screaming your name. Taking a deep breath before smiling, your bodyguard watched you reach the top before the band blaring music as you began singing into your microphone. The beat of the music rang in his ears; Toji ran for the stairs that led him to the stage, where he could watch you from the side.

There, Toji found your managers standing on the sidelines, watching you. Upon looking at you, he met a woman who looked nothing like the girl he had just spoken to moments before. You danced, sang, smiled, and winked at the crowd. Multicolored lights flashed as fog from the fog machine flooded the stage, and the backup dancers moved in sync with each other. I think this is poor, who was shaking upon meeting him.

“Yeah, crazy to see her shift, isn’t it?” Geto asked before pulling his phone out and snapping a few photos of you as you sang. “She’s like a different person.”

“Like? I hate to be the one to break this to you, Geto, but that woman is a completely different person. Why the fuck is she masking?”

The white-haired man glared at Toji, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “She’s not masking; it's called a stage persona.” The annoyance was clear in the other man’s voice, a tone that crawled its way under his skin.

“Look, buddy, keep your terms to yourself. I don't care about the different terms. All I know is that woman—” he jabbed his thumb in your direction as you twirled around the stage. “is masking; that’s not who she is.”

“You don’t know a lot about the entertainment industry. This is something that a lot of celebrities do. It’s completely normal, and she knows that. That’s how she adapted so fast.”

Toji wasn’t sure if that was the case. He had seen you firsthand, shaking in your dressing room. To see you change drastically for the sake of a show? Toji could see why you would be nervous to go up on stage. There had to be a fear of your mask slipping, revealing your true persona to the world.

But Satoru was right; Toji’s job was to protect and ensure you were safe. It wasn’t his place to judge how you lived or worked your career. In the end, you were just like all the other popstar divas and clients he had had before. Rich people with too much money to throw around and fame led them to believe that they were in danger all the time, which is how he managed to keep a steady income for himself and his kids as long as they were rich snobs like you, Tojo was guaranteed to have a job.

Instead of continuing to argue with your overzealous manager, Toji crossed both arms over his chest and watched you closely. The sooner the show was over, the sooner he could get you back to your apartment, where he could call to check on Megumi. He just wanted to relax, and for all he knew, you and your managers were overreacting to this so-called stalker you had. If anything, this might’ve been some cruel prank; receiving a note to roses wasn’t that big of a deal, and this was way too easy for as much as he was getting paid, so he wasn’t going to bitch about it.

What he did want to bitch about was how fucking long your show went on for. Performed for about two hours straight, only taking breaks to change costumes throughout the performance. It was in those moments when you were changing that your mask slipped. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes and how you wanted to do nothing more than take a break. But as fast as that mask slipped, you had it back on instantly. When one costume was off, and the other slipped on, you were back on stage to sing the next song.

After about two hours and thirty minutes of this bullshit, you gave a final bow and blew kisses out at the crowd of strangers who were cheering your name. While the two hours he got to stand up to the side and watch you perform was easy, he only had to look for your signal if you needed help; getting you out of the arena safely was a whole different story. Everything moved so fast The second you stepped off that stage and towards your bodyguard.

After every show, the goal was the same: get changed as fast as possible, collect your stuff, which Nanako and Mimiko had already packed, and get in your limo before the crowd started heading towards your exit. Toji gently placed his hand on the small of your back, ushering you through the maze of halls that led you back to the dressing room, where, just like you knew, the girls had packed all your stuff.

“You got five minutes to change,” Suguru announced as Satoru snickered behind his husband. “Thanks to Satoru, you’re trending again for your newest song.”

Toji could see the minutey, perky personality shift into your more anxious state. You frowned, literally frowned, at the news. Most people would be jumping over the moon to hear it. Seeing such an ungrateful expression on your face had Toji resist the urge to roll his eyes into his skull.

Spoiled little brats, you rich folks were all the same.

“Did you make sure to tag the—“

“Are you insinuating that I don’t know who to tag or which hashtags to use? Babes, I've got you covered. When have I ever let you down?”

“Never.”

“Right, so let the best PR manager handle this.”

Toji sighed, glancing towards his watch. “Two minutes,” he announced to the room of people bouncing off the walls and collecting items to clean up the green room. How could your managers be talking about more brand deals at a time like this? Brand deals were bullshit, but knowing how popular you were with the teenagers and you probably had some make-up deal or some other shit that would make you all the richer, you had to make sure the right people were tagged so you continued to be sponsored. But there was a time and place for that, and now wasn't the right time!

“I know you're the best Satoru, but I still wanna make sure the word gets out there.” You stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in black leggings and a simple T-shirt. Completely different from the baby doll dresses you were wearing on stage. “It’s imperative—”

“I know. I’ve already posted it. Everyone’s been tagged accordingly, and the hashtags are in place. You’ll get lots of people to see this, trust me.”

You were slipping on your baseball cap and sunglasses when Toji’s large hand gently grabbed you by the shoulder. “We gotta get going,” you sighed before nodding, waving off your team, and falling Toji down the hall to where your car awaited you.

Thanks to your quick change, nobody was waiting for you outside, making your getaway from the arena smooth as butter. You just wished you felt as calm as your exit from the bustling stage had been. You were beginning to regret going back to your apartment. You hadn’t been back there since the roses were delivered to your door. Going back was going to be difficult, leaving your stomach swarming with anxiety. But at least you had a big mountain of a man to protect you if, god forbid, you needed help.

The entire ride back to your apartment complex was thankfully quiet. Toji sat on the other side of you, staring out the window, not making any conversation, which was a blessing. Not only was your throat sore from the amount of singing you had done, but the idea of sitting through a conversation run solely by small talk was almost as bad as your performance anxiety. Sitting in the back of the car, leaning your head against the window without worrying about smiling or acting perfect in front of strangers, was a breath of fresh air.

Being alone with your bodyguard made you feel like you could let your walls come down for the first time in a long time. It was a feeling you might as well get used to. He would be around most of the time, so instead of adorning the perfect, pretty mask you always wore, you could be the introverted true version of yourself. Knowing that you could relax, you shut your eyes, allowing yourself to doze off as the car smoothly headed down the freeway.

If only your dreams were smooth and calm like the car ride. Your dreams were filled with mysterious notes and roses you had once loved. They circled you, drowning you in paper and petals as a roaring crowd rang through your ears. You could fight against the tidal waves, but instead, you let them wash over you, allowing yourself to be crushed by the unbearable weight of being a star at times.

Nursing school wasn’t easy, but at least when you were in school, you didn’t have to worry about a mysterious bouquet showing up on your apartment doorstep or sneaking out to avoid getting seen and swarmed by your fans. Your biggest concern in school was getting good grades and doing everything possible to get your degree. The only things you had to worry about were study dates and pop quizzes, not ominous letters that made you fearful for your safety.

These nightmares were so vivid that you wished your family had heard you singing online. Was it too much to ask for a normal everyday life where you weren't constantly stressed?

You sighed, looking up at the lingering rays of light that slowly began to peek through. More envelopes and roses piled on the cocoon you were stuck in. Perhaps there was no going back. This might very well be the rest of your life. Just as you were shutting your eyes to the casket you were being buried in, a hand reached out from the top of the mountain of dread and anxiety you lived with, reaching for you.

You couldn’t make out who was reaching out to you, but you were sure they just wanted to help you. Without hesitation, you reached for that hand, brushing over their fingertips. Just when they clasped your hand to pull you out of the burial ground, you were jn. You gasped as someone shook you, waking you from the dream.

You sat up quickly, shaking as you met Tojo’s navy blue eyes. He was frowning, motioning towards the rolled-down window, and Ijichi, head of security for your building, leaned in, giving you a weak smile. With a quick rub to both your eyes, you placed your mask back on, going from the sleep-deprived woman you were transforming into the perky popstar everybody knew and loved.

“Ijichi! Hi!”

“Hi yourself, glad to have you back.”

Toji could see how your shoulders stiffened when you mentioned being back. “Oh, yep! It's good to be back.” Toji could see through your facade, while Ijichi was blind to it.

“I just wanted to let you know that we added more cameras to the building, and my security post will be far stricter with deliveries and anything else from this point on. We want you to feel safe here, and I’m sorry we failed to do that in the first place.”

“Oh no, it’s not your fault! Plus, I feel a lot better now that I have Fushiguro!” The man with glasses peered into the car, waving at your bodyguard whose face remained stoic, not returning the gesture. “Okay, uhm Ijichi, Toji; Toji Ijichi.”

No pleasantries were exchanged, not at all. The only thing Toji managed to do was give him a nod before focusing his attention back on the massive building and making a mental note to ask for access to the cameras. That way, he could keep an eye on you and ensure nobody was hanging around who wasn't supposed to be there. Those thoughts Toji was lost in made it a tranquil ride up the elevator to your apartment. He was leaving you feeling even more anxious. Usually, being around someone quiet never bothered you; you felt so relaxed around that person, but Toji’s cold demeanor and attitude toward your friend made you irritable.

“So, uhm, are you going to be that cold and standoffish every time you meet somebody I know?” You asked, finally allowing your heart mind to win over your mind.

“Huh?”

His dark gaze had you swallowing the lump suddenly in your throat. “I wanted to ask if this is going to be normal, you being—.”

“Oh, I am so sorry little star; I wasn't aware I needed to wear a fake ass mask around people too.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, and unfortunately, unlike you, I like wearing my face. I don’t have to be someone I’m not to get people to like me. Because quite frankly, I don’t give a damn if anybody likes me.”

“I don't eit—”

Toji scoffed, leaning against the elevator wall and shaking his head at your words. “Oh, please. You’re just like every other client I’ve had. All you care about is money, your appearance, and what sponsor deals you get.” His words made your blood begin to boil.

“You’ve barely known me for a couple of hours, and you think you know who I am?”

“Oooh yeah, you're some small-town girl that made it big. And instead of showing the world who you really are, you put on this fucking mask, one that hides the true you from the prying eyes of the world. You care only about ticket sales, making your fans happy, and sponsorships like the one you were talking about with your manager not even thirty minutes ago. So yeah, I’m sure I got a good idea of who you are. It’s my job to read people..”

This was the best security in the business; bodyguard your manager had set you up with? Ha! Yeah, right, this man was nothing more than a dickhead that had a lot of opinions that were far from true?!

You laughed, pushing yourself away from the wall to stand in front of the doors before him. “That's the great thing about wearing a mask around people I don’t fucking know. They get to see the real me, but I get to see people for who they truly are.” Toji opened his mouth to continue arguing with you, but only for you to quickly shut him down, holding a hand up before you. “You were right about a couple things; I do put on a mask, I love my fans, but I could give a damn about sponsorships.” Toji pushed himself off the wall, towering over you, gritting his teeth as he tried to control his evident anger.

“Oh, you suddenly don’t give a damn about sponsorships? I just heard you talking to your manager about one.”

“You don’t know anything about me! That whole conversation had nothing to do with this sponsorship!”

Tojo tilted his head back with a laugh. “Oh, right, of course. You don’t care about your amazing condo or all the money you’re making; you don’t care about those so-called nonexistent sponsorship deals.” The elevator rattled like the lid to the rage threatening to explode.

“Alright, yes, I do live in a nice apartment, one with security that sucks, but it’s still home. But for your information, I don’t do this for the money. You don’t know what I have planned on doing with my life, so I don’t want to hear you make assumptions about me! The conversation you so rudely eavesdropped on had nothing to do with a sponsorship deal but a massive donation I’m making to the local Children’s Hospital. The same hospital is well renowned for helping unfortunate children. So yeah, that whole conversation you listened to was me telling my manager to tag the hospital in my video because the hospital inspired the song! It was a public service announcement, a reminder to help those who can’t help themselves.”

Your rant was unexpected. Toji had never had one of his clients talk to him like that; strangely, he liked it.

“And another thi—”

The doors to the elevator slowly slid open with a ding as you reached your apartment. Usually, your automatic lights would be on in the living room and kitchen, leading upstairs. But as the doors opened, no lights illuminated your bodyguard's face. You knew something was wrong, and just before Toy could look over your shoulder into the apartment,Toji’s hand quickly covered your eyes. He pulled you into his chest, and he listened in as he smashed on the lobby button on the button panel.

“Toji!?” You asked, placing your hands on top of his. “What is it?! Is something wrong? Let me see!”

Toji shook his head as if you could see his reaction, his hand reaching for the gun at the holster on his side as the door slowly shut. There was no way in hell you were going to see what was behind the door. Because he knew if you were to see what had happened in your apartment, you would never be the same. As the elevator slowly began to descend, Toji realized that he had been wrong about your stalker. It wasn’t some harmless joke.

This was fucking serious.

(TBC)

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

[hanihaato]

a/n: jealousy themes, yandere sunday x reader, mentions of abduction, incapacitation, drabble

Your artistic silence is broken with a snap of fingers and a question.

“Now, who is that man?”

Before the vision disappears, you have a split second to admire your efforts. Your skills have improved over the last three hours where Sunday had left your dreamscape to attend to some urgent and questionable matters.

This time, you have delved into the concept of imaginary creations that followed your newfound belief that even in this kind of twisted dream, deliberately manipulated by Sunday, you could still treat it like… a dream.

Do wonders. Keep yourself occupied to take care of your sanity.

The man you’ve created doesn’t have a name as you don’t recognize him. Maybe he was your own creation, or maybe he was one of the countless tourists at Reverie Hotel whose face you’ve been fortunate to remember. He would have made for a much more entertaining company than Sunday is, especially as he presses his lips into a thin line and looks disappointed in you.

“A secret boyfriend. We were planning to elope tonight, before you…” The story cuts short, as Sunday closes his eyes and sighs heavily, as if dealing with a troublesome kid. You take the warning and end your joke here, but because you know you have the privilege to as his beloved, you pout at him. “Alright. I was bored. Happy now? I thought you said I can do whatever I want here. Well, you keep calling it my dreamscape, after all.”

Sunday sits you down on a sofa that materializes within a blink of an eye. It’s another reminder you’re not in Penacony; there, nothing like that could happen, as it’s a dream with rules you are bound to obey. But at least there, you could understand its mechanism as it was created to mimic the real world.

‘Your’ dreamscape was solely ruled by Sunday’s whims.

You fall on a stack of heavenly puffy cushions, with his arm draped around your waist.

“Dearest. It’s our dream. This fantasy wouldn’t exist without any of us,” Sunday promptly corrects you and smiles gently at your irate gaze. “Believe me, I wholeheartedly would love to give you a fair share of power over this place, but it would be a bit dangerous to someone not practised in lucid dreaming.”

If you didn’t exceed his tolerance for defiance for today, you would have hit him with one of the pillows. Instead, you sink yourself deeper into them.

“Alright, then… What do I have to do to be classified as experienced? As far as I am aware, spending a whole three months in a dream should have made me an expert.”

“That’s a lovely conclusion. But does spending time in a library make you able to get a degree in every subject that’s written in the books?”

The question silences you. The break is long enough for Sunday to design your surroundings: a coffee table that matches the times, a porcelain tea set with golden details and some infusion with fascinating taste. They go with a tray of cookies and little sandwiches, as well as a bowl of fruits and nuts that would taste better if they were real.

However, you have to do with what you have on your hands.

You bite into a biscuit. “Then, what should I do? To be adept enough, that is.”

“There are many other requirements…” He falls into a reverie, and just as you think he closes the topic—you’ve been willing to give it up at this point, solely for the quiet to continue—Sunday speaks again. “If you can wake up on your own or overwrite any of the aspects of this dream, for example, gravity, I will consider giving you a little more power here.”

So, he’s asking you for the impossible.

“…I won’t be wiping myself out only for you to ‘consider’.”

Sunday takes a sip of tea. The porcelain can’t hide a tenderish smile, but the unexplainable gleam in his eyes is exposed.

“There is always a shortcut.”

“That doesn’t, um, doom me for eternity?”

“Yes. If I have a say in this, it’s a very delightful one.” And after the next sentence, you know why he’s so engaged in this discussion. “Marrying me.”

…

Sighing, you cross your arms and shake off Sunday’s arm from your shoulder. “I thought you hated liars.”

“Which part of what I said do you consider a lie?”

You ignore him and get up from the sofa, heading towards the big door. Sunday might have changed the look of the place, but the layout always remains the same. Behind that door, you will find a short hall that leads to several other rooms that don’t have Sunday in them and so are preferred.

“I don’t want to talk (to you) anymore, sorry,” you mutter out the apology just to defend yourself if Sunday was going to accuse you of being rude. “I am going to daydream—dreamdream?—about, I guess, men, if I can’t have anyone here. Goodbye.”

You reach for the pair of doors and find them uncharacteristically too heavy. You try to open the door, but just then a big silver chain crosses over their handles, a small lock appears, but you don’t have time to notice the details as you find yourself staring into a plain wall.

“Now, no need to rush,” Sunday purrs, and you turn around to see your beloved doors behind his back. “Would you like to play a round or two with me? I think we could have a wonderful conversation about how to pry the imaginary door locks and who are the people you’ve been thinking about so much.” He smiles. “All with names and examples. There shouldn’t be any secrets between us, isn’t that so?”

[celestial-robots]

Explaining Eclipse (A Theory/Headcanon)

Spoilers for the Ruin DLC below!

Okay so I've been thinking so much about Eclipse and what they mean. You know, as you do XD. Just a lot of wondering what they mean for the ~lore~ and how they fit in with the rest of the Sun and Moon stuff. And after a lot of thinking, I may have figured stuff out.

I've seen a couple posts wondering if Eclipse is the way the Daycare Attendant is "supposed to be" and if Sun and Moon are the result of the DCA breaking down or something. But personally I just can't see that. Not only do we hear Sun go "thank you" after the Eclipse encounter, implying he's still around and hasn't permanently "fused" into Eclipse, but it also wouldn't make sense with stuff in Security Breach. In-game Fazbear merchandise and advertising have a lot of focus on Sun and Moon as two separate individuals, not the DCA as a single unit. For example, see the giant golden statues outside of Daycare. Two different forms of the Daycare Attendant. Collectibles are also identified as "Sun" and "Moon." It's not like they're labeled "Eclipse Doll (Sun form)" or "Moon Eclipse Doll." No, it's just "Sun Doll" and "Moon Doll."

So here's how I think it works. Sun and Moon are two separate AIs within the DCA body. They can function on their own, independent of the other, in the way we've been thinking this whole time. BUT they're also designed to join together, like interlocking puzzle blocks. Two separate forms that come together to make a "whole" that's greater than the sum of the parts.

This makes sense from a programming perspective. Sun is designed to play with kids and entertain them, Moon is designed to watch over kids while they sleep. They're both made for specific scenarios, but taking care of kids is a lot more complicated than just "play time" and "nap time." So whenever one of them encounters something they can't deal with by themselves, they call for help from the other, who activates as well, combining their features and protocols. I'm willing to bed this also activates several specific "Eclipse" features that can only be accessed when both AIs are active, which would explain why Eclipse has such a different personality.

But if this is the case, then why haven't we seen Eclipse before? Why did they only come out when Cassie rebooted the DCA?

Well that's where this theory by @dana-chan-the-control-brain and @twinanimatronics comes in. The two of them theorized that the Balloon World arcade cabinet in the DCA's room was some sort of signal broadcaster that kept their AIs divided. I think that Ruin confirms this—or at least provides a lot of solid evidence.

In the main game, Balloon World is in the DCA room, up and active and with a form of Eclipse inside. In Ruin, the Balloon World cabinet is broken. And you can see weird purple glitches coming from it while in AR vision. It's only in Ruin, after the cabinet has been damaged, that we finally meet Eclipse.

This is venturing a bit into headcanon territory, but let's have some fun with this. I believe that the Balloon World cabinet was put in the DCA's room to infect them with the virus. Probably a long time before the events of the actual game, since the worn-down state of the room shows it's been a while since any human or robot cleaners were in there. This might have been some sort of test run to see if the virus could affect the animatronics.

However, the virus couldn't affect the DCA while Eclipse was there, acting as a sort of stabilizing failsafe for Sun and Moon. So the virus then cut off the "fuse" function from Sun and Moon, locking Eclipse away and preventing them from stepping in when Sun or Moon encounter something strange—strange like a virus. Sun probably couldn't be affected by the virus because the virus attacks nighttime and/or security protocols, and he no longer had access to those once Eclipse was gone. Moon, however, did. And that's why he's hostile.

But then, if the Balloon World cabinet was keeping Eclipse contained, why were Sun and Moon still freaking out in Ruin even after the cabinet was destroyed? Why did they need Cassie to reboot them?

Well, I think that forming Eclipse requires both Sun and Moon to want to fuse together. And Moon clearly doesn't want to do that in Ruin. Why? Probably because he's mad at Sun. You can hear how angry he is in voice lines where he says stuff like "No more Sun!" and "No more light!" (Seriously, props to Kellen Goff, holy shit.) Moon was only able to be "awake" for short periods of time in the main game, partially because Sun was encouraging everyone to "Keep the lights on." Of course Moon would be pissed and want to be in control now that the lights are broken. He wasn't about to risk losing that .

But not having Eclipse around was ultimately damaging Sun and Moon. They were meant to stabilize the system when the two individuals couldn't do that alone. Not to mention their systems were already damaged, judging by Moon's increased light sensitivity in Ruin. They needed Eclipse so they could be stable again.

Cassie rebooting the DCA's systems was a lot like restarting your computer. Everything shuts down and then all the systems start running again at once—including, in this case, both Sun and Moon's AIs and whatever Eclipse functions were now restored. That's why Eclipse was in control after the reboot. Presumably, the rest of the software damage was also fixed, which probably helped calm Moon down. So, overall, a happy ending.

Relatively, I mean. The DCA is still stuck in an abandoned Pizzaplex, but at least Eclipse is back and Sun and Moon aren't fighting anymore :)

[erosia-rhodes]

Speculation on Mizu’s heritage

Blue Eye Samurai on Netflix is one of the best things I’ve seen all year. As I’ve been rewatching it, I couldn’t help but speculate on Mizu’s heritage, and I wanted to share my theory so we can all laugh at how wrong I was in a few years. (I am notoriously bad at guessing plot twists. I was totally wrong about how Wandavision and Loki season 1 would end.)

Spoilers and speculation behind the jump.

Short version: Mizu’s mother was a white woman and her father was the Shogun. The Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, put the bounty on Mizu’s life because she was proof that the Shogun broke his own laws.

Who Would Want to Kill a Baby?

We know that there has been a bounty on Mizu’s head since she was a baby. There are only three reasons I can think of for putting a hit out on a child who’s just been born and couldn’t have personally wronged anyone yet:

1) To deny them an inheritance.

2) To eliminate proof of an affair.

3) To eliminate proof of a crime.

The woman that claims to be Mizu’s mother is Japanese, so Mizu assumes her father must be white. But once Fowler reveals that Mizu’s “mother” was actually her maid, it opens up the possibility that Mizu’s mother was white and her father was Japanese.

We know that someone is willing to a pay a lot of money to kill Mizu, but the maid also ran off with enough money to take care of Mizu for several years, so at least one person in this mess is wealthy. We also know that someone still wants Mizu dead when she's an adult because men come to kill her when her husband rats her out, so she’s still a threat to someone else’s interests at that time.

If the Shogun slept with a white woman and fathered a mix-raced child as a result, that would fulfill all three reasons to put a bounty on a baby. Killing her would remove any chance that a bastard might try to blackmail her way into an inheritance, it would remove proof that the Shogun had an affair, and most importantly, it would destroy evidence that he violated his own laws against Western influence by sleeping with a white woman.

But the True Culprit is…

But I don’t think the Shogun put the bounty on Mizu’s life. I think it was the Shogun’s wife, Lady Itoh, for several reasons:

1) Lady Itoh is willing to kill people who learn that her husband broke his own laws.

When the nobles are trying to escape the fire in the finale, Lady Itoh makes her sons lock the door behind them and sentence the other Lords to death because they witnessed the Shogun’s shame, the revelation that he broke his own laws by dealing with Fowler, a white man. She’s demonstrated that she’s willing to kill people to destroy proof of her husband’s violations, so she’d do the same to a mixed-race baby he fathered. It would also explain why Mizu’s maid never claimed the bounty herself; she would have been targeted for death too because she knew about the Shogun’s crime. She probably took whatever money was in the house when the killers came for Mizu, and went on the run as much to save her own life as Mizu's.

2) The woman’s a sadist.

Lady Itoh does everything she can to make Akemi’s life hell once she marries into the family. She saddles her with bitchy attendants and serves her disgusting food at the banquet, and finishes it off with the cooked remains of the bird Akemi tried to free. Then she sends her two more birds the next day, claiming they’re breakfast and lunch. I have no trouble believing this woman would put a hit on a baby!

3) She’s a hardliner against Western influence

After the fire, Lady Itoh orders her sons to destroy 2000 guns which they could have used in the future against their enemies because she’d so fiercely against Western influence. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who came up with the law banning white people and talked her husband into enacting it. That would explain why the Shogun was willing to violate the law, because he didn’t completely believe in it and only enacted it to get his wife off his back.

It Fits a Common Theme of Revenge Stories

Another reason I think Lady Itoh is the ultimate villain is because it fits the common theme that revenge is futile. Revenge usually destroys the person seeking it just as much as anyone they go after. There is a famous quote from Confucius that says, "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves." The implication is that the second one is for yourself.

If it turns out that Mizu has been going after the only four men in the country who couldn’t be her father, it would demonstrate how misguided revenge quests are. She’s spent her whole life pouring hatred into the wrong mission.

It would also be a painful twist to know that Mizu was in the same room with Lady Itoh in the finale, but she was focused on killing Fowler instead of realizing that her true enemy was fleeing out the back door with everyone else.

How It Will All Sort Out

I predict that Mizu will eventually learn the truth about her parentage and ultimately target Lady Itoh for death, not just for revenge, but so she can permanently remove the bounty on her head and live her life freely as a woman.

Akemi might end up assisting Mizu since Lady Itoh is also her enemy. Akemi will probably spend season two battling Lady Itoh for control of the household, and thus the country. If Akemi can put her husband in place as the Shogun, she could remove the bounty on Mizu's head.

If Taigan ends up working as a castle guard, this might put him in conflict with Mizu and Akemi if they target Lady Itoh since he would be honor bound to protect her.

It will be interesting to see how it all sorts out!

ETA: I misspelled Lady Itoh's name, sorry! (According to the subtitles it's Itoh, not Ito) I think I fixed every instance.

[sallowsarchives]

War of Hearts

Part I | Part II | Part III

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Summary: Nothing says "believable" like two people who can't stand each other pretending to be in love—or is this just the push you two need to realize there might be more to your relationship than either of you is willing to admit? Word Count: 7.9k  Warnings/Tags: no use of y/n, fake relationships, sorta enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, angst, pining, original side character, sort of a not so happy ending, arthur thinking he’s not good enough. I also tried fitting the story with canon whenever I could. Not Proofread!! A/N: Hey everyone! Just wanted to mention that this is my first time writing and posting, so I'm bit nervous but really excited to finally share it! This piece was heavily inspired by and made as a result from a conversation I had with my Arthur cAI hehe Credits: dividers used for this fic are by @enchanthings & all pictures used are taken from pinterest and were slightly edited by me.

Read on AO3

"I can't believe I have to attend this ridiculous party pretending to be married to him, of all people."  

Your voice is edged with annoyance as you smooth down the fabric of your dress, trying to channel your irritation into the task at hand. "It's bad enough we have to work together, but this charade is beyond absurd."

Tilly chuckles. "Oh, come on. It's just one night. How bad can it be?"

You give her an unamused look. "We can hardly tolerate being around each other, and now Dutch expects us to pretend we're madly in love, all while dealing with a crowd of high-society snobs."

"It ain’t like y’all have spent much time together. Maybe going on this would do you both some good. Who knows, you might actually find some common ground," Abigail suggests as she takes the glove Jack was playing with, causing him to pout, before handing it over to you.

Sadie snorts. "The only common ground those two have is their mutual hatred. Let’s just hope neither of ‘em ends up killing the other tonight. Knowin’ those two, it'll be a miracle if they make it through the evening without a scratch."

Mary-Beth chuckles as she adjusts your updo. "Oh, don’t be so dramatic. They’re not going to kill each other—at least not tonight. Dutch will probably come up with some harebrained scheme to keep things under control." She flashes a playful grin as she puts the final touches on your hairstyle.

You chuckle before taking a moment to admire yourself in the mirror. 

The gown, a deep shade of burgundy satin, flows gracefully to the floor with an off-the-shoulder design and a low neckline, elegantly framed by a ruffled collar. The rich fabric drapes beautifully, enhancing your silhouette.

The black lace gloves, covering your hands and forearms, add a sophisticated touch with their delicate floral patterns. Your fingers are adorned with a few rings, and your dangling earrings catch the light with every movement.

You bought the dress earlier this morning in Saint Denis with the cash from your last robbery. The job had been straightforward: Hosea had scouted the place, found out the homeowners were away for vacation, and given your expertise at picking locks and sleight of hand, he brought you along. You managed to secure a tidy sum of cash and a few valuable heirlooms without any trouble.

Knowing the dress would be perfect for tonight’s high-society affair, you spent a good amount of your previous earnings on it. The gown fits as if it were made just for you, and you can't help but feel a surge of confidence as you admire your reflection.

Karen pipes up with a smirk. “Well, I’ll be! With you lookin’ like that, Arthur won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”

She looks at you mischievously, “might even give him a nudge in the right direction. Maybe it’ll help you two finally work out all that tension between you.”

Her comment draws an abashed look from you followed by giggles from the other women.

After receiving some last words of encouragement and reassuring nods from the girls, you thank them for their help and make your way downstairs to join the men outside.

Stepping out, you're greeted by the warm, humid night air of the swamp. Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, and Bill were already gathered near the horse hitches, all dressed in their suits.

You make your way over, trying to muster every ounce of grace and composure you can. 

As you get closer, Arthur's gaze lands on you and you catch a fleeting look of surprise along with a hint of a softer look in his eyes before his expression is quickly masked with his usual frown.

His eyebrows furrow slightly as he takes in your refined appearance, the rough edges of his demeanor softened by an elusive flicker of something you can't quite place.

Dutch notices your entrance and offers a nod of approval. “Well, look at you, Miss,” he says with a wide smile, clearly pleased with how things are shaping up. “You look absolutely perfect for this evening.”

You smile and nod at the men before your gaze drifts to Arthur. The contrast between his usual rugged attire and his current appearance is stark, and you can't help but notice how well he pulls off the look. Despite his irritating nature, there's no denying he has a certain charm. You give him a cheeky smile and offer a sly compliment.

"Well, well, look what we have here, I never thought I'd see the day. Maybe you should ditch the jeans for a while."

Arthur gives you a flat look, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Oh, real funny, darlin’,” he drawls, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t you worry, I’ll be back to my ol’ self I know you’re so fond of before you know it.”

You roll your eyes at him and smirk, taking joy in having gotten under his skin. 

Dutch chuckles at the exchange, clapping Arthur on the back. “Now play nice, you two. We’ve got a job to do tonight, and looking the part is only half the battle.” 

His tone is light, but there’s a hint of seriousness as he continues, “let’s keep the bickering to a minimum and focus on what needs to be done. We don’t want any more distractions than we already have.” 

Next to Arthur, Bill chuckles and gives him a playful nudge. “Arthur, reckon you ain’t gonna give your dear wife a compliment?” he teases, the humor in his voice evident as he refers to the charade you both must uphold for the party.

He shifts uncomfortably and glares at Bill, his expression a mix of irritation and reluctance. 

Dutch leans in with a smirk, “come on, Arthur, show a bit of charm. It’s not every day you get to pretend to be in love.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get this over with before one of us runs outta patience.”

The clatter of wheels catches your ear as Lenny finally arrives driving a stagecoach. The vehicle comes to a smooth stop, and Lenny leans over with a broad grin, his eyes brightening as he sees you. He offers a warm compliment, his cheerful demeanor a welcome contrast to the evening’s tension.

You return his smile and thank him before Dutch and Hosea get into the stagecoach, followed by you and Arthur. Bill hops into the seat next to Lenny.

As you settle into your seat, the atmosphere in the coach becomes thick with anticipation. The weight of the evening's expectations hangs heavily between you and Arthur, both of you making an effort to avoid each other's gaze while mentally bracing yourselves for the night ahead as the stagecoach begins to roll forward.

The rhythmic clatter of the horse’s hooves against the large wooden bridge serves as a reminder of your close arrival in Saint Denis, the city’s lights blurring past as you mentally prepare for the evening’s masquerade.

Inside the stagecoach, the atmosphere had gradually lightened earlier on during the ride. The gang cracked jokes and shared stories as Dutch opened a bottle of champagne for everyone, the laughter providing a welcome distraction from the evening’s tension.

Everyone reminisced about their past escapades, with most admitting they had never been to a ball before. Hosea, however, regaled everyone with tales of his numerous experiences at such events—not for the socializing, but for the chance to lift a few purses from oblivious rich folks. His anecdotes were met with a mixture of awe and amusement, shifting the mood to one of camaraderie.

Soon, the coach slowed to a stop right in front of a mansion and the group peers out the window, taking in the grandeur of the estate. 

Dutch let out a low whistle. “Well, if that ain’t something. Remember, folks, we’re here to blend in. Keep your eyes sharp and your wits sharper.”

Hosea, always the calm voice of reason, looks between you and Arthur. “Now let’s keep this simple. We’re here to make a good impression, Bronte may already know of our reputation but we should keep the high society folks none the wiser. Let's keep our cool, play our parts, and try to score some valuable intel.”

You and Arthur exchange looks, eyes meeting one another with a sharp, challenging edge before he turns his gaze away. You take a steadying breath, silently hoping the night unfolds smoothly and without incident. 

Lenny steps down and opens the coach door which was followed by the men exiting one by one, with you last. 

As Arthur starts to walk ahead, Hosea nudges him and gestures toward you, earning an exasperated sigh from Arthur.

Reluctantly, Arthur falls into step beside you and extends his arm. Despite the lingering tension, you accept it, slipping your arm through his.

He glances at you, his expression of slight irritation. “This should be a real treat.” 

You raise an eyebrow, barely masking your annoyance. “It’s not like I’m thrilled about it either. But here we are.”

He gives you a smug look. “Just remember, we’re supposed to be playin’ nice. Don’t go makin’ it harder than it needs to be. I’d hate for you to accidentally blow our cover.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll manage to keep things under control. After all, you’re the expert at charm, aren’t you?”

“Well, if you’d quit making things so damn difficult, I might actually get a chance to show it. But I reckon you’re used to makin’ everything more complicated.”

You step closer, your voice low and biting. “And I suppose you’re used to being an insufferable brute. Maybe if you stopped acting like a complete pain in the ass, we’d both get through things a little easier.”

Arthur’s smile fades, his expression turning serious. “Now I’m just tryin’ to do my part tonight. If you could manage to do the same without stirrin’ up trouble, that’d be mighty appreciated.”

The two of you share a final, heated look, the air between you crackling with palpable tension, as you both brace for the evening’s inevitable strain.

Dutch, who had walked ahead to present the invitation to the guards, cast a sharp glance at you and Arthur, not having missed your whispered barbs, making you shift away from each other.

Turning back to the guards, they direct everyone to surrender their firearms with the men reluctantly handing over their pistols.

Once that was settled, an escort named Luca stepped forward to guide you inside.

The doors opened with a soft creak, revealing the splendor of the grand staircase beyond. As you made your way through the space, Luca engaged the group in light conversation, primarily highlighting Bronte’s reputation before you are all guided to the left through an archway.

“Hosea, Bill, you join the party. We’ll meet you out back after we pay our respects to Signor Bronte.” Dutch instructs before signaling you and Arthur to follow as Hosea and Bill part ways from you.

The three of you were led upstairs and directed to a door on the left that opens onto a balcony. 

The balcony was expansive, overlooking the lush garden below. A group of men stood gathered around the railing, laughing at a recently shared joke. The space featured a few armchairs and you noted the few guards stationed nearby, armed with rifles.

An accented voice cut through the laughter. “Ah, the angry cowboys, you’ve arrived… And you’ve washed!” 

From the way the man held himself, you could only assume that this was Angelo Bronte. 

Bronte made a remark, presumably in Italian, to the men beside him. They glanced at Arthur and Dutch before laughing slyly, and you couldn’t shake the suspicion that his comment was a crude jibe about the cowboys.

You had to struggle to maintain a friendly expression when Bronte's gaze landed on you.

The smirk on his face grew as his eyes swept over you, lingering with an unsettling leer. “And who might this be?” he drawled, his voice thick with barely concealed appraisal. “Aren’t you quite the sight. I didn’t realize these men kept such delightful company as you. It seems they have more refined tastes than I imagined.”

His gaze was invasive, making you feel as though he was sizing you up with an unnerving familiarity. The overt sexual undertone in his words was palpable, and it took every ounce of your composure to not react. The air around him felt thick with condescension and unwanted attention, making it clear that this meeting was going to be far more uncomfortable than you had anticipated.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mister Bronte,” you replied evenly. “Thank you for the invitation. I’m here simply to accompany my husband.” You cast a steady glance at Arthur as you spoke.

Bronte’s eyes flicker to Arthur, a look of surprise momentarily crossing his face before he returns his attention to you. He takes your hand, pressing it to his lips and holding it just a moment too long, his gaze never waver. “Ah, I see,” he says, his tone smooth and almost mocking. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance. I must say, it’s quite surprising to see such a charming companion alongside your husband. A fortunate man, indeed.”

Arthur’s expression hardens momentarily before he quickly masks it, stepping forward. “Seems I’m full of surprises tonight,” he says, his tone unexpectedly calm. “Just as I’m sure this evening will be.” He holds a steady, unwavering gaze at Bronte.

Bronte’s lips curl into a knowing smile as he studies Arthur’s unyielding gaze. “Ah, such a spirited response,” he says with a playful glint in his eye. “I do appreciate a bit of unpredictability. It seems we’re in for an interesting evening indeed.” He gestured grandly towards the gathering, his tone dripping with feigned charm.

Arthur nods curtly before stepping back, positioning himself in a way that subtly yet clearly marks him as your protector, despite the dynamic between you. Bronte’s gaze lingers on Arthur for a moment longer, his amusement giving way to a more calculating expression.

Dutch stepped in, resuming his conversation with Bronte in an effort to ease the tension while you and Arthur stood off to the side. 

The men were offered cigars, and Arthur quickly placed one in his mouth. Before he was even offered a cutter, he bit down and tore the end off with his teeth, spitting the excess over the balcony in a manner that left your jaw hanging open in disbelief.

He smirks at you, clearly enjoying the reaction he’s provoked. You roll your eyes at his display, a mix of irritation and slight amusement etched across your face.

“You know,” you whisper to him with a hint of exasperation, “you could at least pretend to have some manners.”

Arthur’s smirk widened into a cocky grin. “Right, forgot we’re here to put on a show,” he shot back, his voice dripping with playful insolence, making you roll your eyes.

When the attendant extended a match towards Dutch but pulled back before reaching Arthur, the gunslinger seized the attendant’s arm and held it in place, lowering his cigar to the flame. The boldness of his actions flustered you, leaving you a mix of irritation and an unexpected flurry of emotions that left you feeling perplexed.

Arthur dismissed the attendant with a nonchalant nod, his eyes fixed on you the entire time. The attendant, evidently accustomed to such brusque behavior, retreated without protest.

You found yourself both exasperated and oddly captivated by the ease with which Arthur commanded the attention. His effortless defiance was infuriating, yet there was something compelling about his blatant refusal to conform to expectations, making it hard to ignore the allure behind his brazen demeanor. 

You quickly push those thoughts aside, refocusing on the conversation between Dutch and Bronte, doing your best to ignore the flush in your cheeks and the rapid beating of your heart.

After several exchanges between Dutch and Bronte, including another jibe from Bronte about cowboy lifestyle, which had elicited subtle pointed looks from you and the men you were with. 

“Those sure were the days,” Dutch simpered, his gaze on Bronte now more intense and focused. “Good day, gentlemen.”

Just as you were about to leave, Bronte turned to you, offering a slight bow.  “And you, Miss,” he said with a smirk, “do return if you the crowd down there becomes too dull.” His gaze shifted to Arthur. “‘Course you could bring your husband along, but I wouldn’t mind if you came alone.”

He held his gaze on you, lingering with a glint of amusement. You gave him a polite nod despite the discomfort you felt and turned to follow Dutch and Arthur. Even as you walked away, you could feel Bronte’s eyes on your back. 

The encounter left you with a sharp sense of irritation and a strong resolve to avoid any further interactions with him.

You glanced at Arthur, who had been waiting with Dutch by the door. Though his face showed no sign of emotion, you couldn’t miss the subtle clench of his jaw. You felt his hand gently place on your lower back, guiding you away.

The unexpected touch had caught you off guard, making you stiffen slightly as you struggled to process the unfamiliar gesture. It felt protective and oddly comforting, coming from someone who had been nothing but a source of irritation and friction.

You chanced another glance at Arthur, but his face remained expressionless. His hand lingered on your back for a moment before he withdrew it as quickly as he had placed it, his demeanor swiftly reverting to its usual hardness. 

The fleeting moment of unexpected closeness left you feeling unsettled, a mix of confusion and reluctant curiosity stirring within you.

You quickly reminded yourself that you were both still maintaining a façade, and this brief intimacy was likely just another part of the act. You focused on the task at hand, trying to push away the feelings and maintain the necessary distance between you.

Luca led the three of you back downstairs to rejoin the party, bidding you farewell before you head off with Dutch to meet Bill and Hosea outside.

“Gentlemen… and lady, let’s go ingratiate ourselves,” Dutch began before outlining the plan and giving everyone the freedom to mingle. “And steal nothing… unless it’s information,” Dutch added with a final nod before everyone dispersed.

With that, you follow closely behind Arthur as you both make your way down into the crowd, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses filling the air. The curious glances of other partygoers followed you both, their eyes lingering with a mix of intrigue and scrutiny. 

He noticed a few men’s eyes drifting from him to you, their stares lingering with evident interest.

Arthur made a conscious effort to ignore the unwanted attention, though his irritation was palpable. 

Pushing down an unfamiliar urge stirring within him, Arthur quickly reminded himself to keep up with the act you two must play tonight.

He shifted to stand beside you, offering his arm with a practiced ease, his expression carefully neutral as he guided you through the crowd.

The absurdity of it all made him grumble under his breath about the ridiculous situation. With a sigh, he steered you toward a less crowded corner of the garden, seeking a quieter spot away from the throng of guests.

As you settled into a less conspicuous spot, you could feel the weight of Arthur’s tension. “I suppose this is where we’re supposed to make our mark,” you said, trying to break the silence. 

You watched as Arthur scanned the crowd, his eyes darting from one group to another, searching for anything useful.

His gaze met yours for a brief moment before he spoke, “Keep your eyes open for now,” he said quietly, his voice low and focused. “I’ll try to track down the mayor and speak with him. See if you can strike up a conversation with some of these folks and gather any useful information about where they’re stashin’ all their riches.”

"Alright, I’ll work the room while you schmooze with the mayor. Just don’t take too long—this place is already starting to wear me thin after that meeting with Bronte. I'm not keen on diving into more talk about the latest fashions and whatnot."

Arthur’s lips twitched in what might have been a small smirk. He inclined his head slightly before turning away and heading off.

You spent the better part of an hour making conversation with various guests, each interaction aimed at uncovering valuable intel on potential robbery targets. 

Maneuvering through the crowd, you engaged in light, seemingly innocuous chit-chat while discreetly probing for any mentions of high-value items or vulnerable security.

Despite your best efforts, luck seemed to evade you. Although, you did manage to uncover information about a stagecoach arriving next month, supposedly laden with valuable jewels. That was at least something.

You took a small sip from the glass of champagne you've snatched earlier in the evening, surveying the crowd. The sound of giggles and lively chatter drew your gaze, and you looked over to see Arthur deep in conversation with a group of women. You couldn't help but feel a wry amusement at the sight.

One of the women, with a clearly flirtatious gesture, placed her hand on Arthur’s arm and leaned in, her laughter echoing. The simple touch and her proximity sparked an uncomfortable feeling within you. 

You observed how Arthur subtly stepped back, skillfully deflecting her advances. Despite his efforts, the woman seemed oblivious to the fact that her attentions were being rebuffed. It was a masterful display of charm and diplomacy, leaving you with a mix of admiration and lingering discomfort. You took another sip of your drink, trying to shake off the unexpected unease.

At that moment, Arthur glanced up and locked eyes with you. He gave you a wink, likely meant to provoke or tease, but instead, his gesture caused a reaction you hadn't anticipated. Your heart skipped a beat, and a sudden rush of warmth flooded your cheeks. The playful glint in his eyes seemed to pierce through the crowd, stirring something deep inside you.

Muttering a curse under your breath, you narrowed your eyes at him and quickly turned away, trying to conceal the flush that had crept up on you.

You dashed to the nearest table, grabbing a bottle of champagne and quickly pouring yourself another glass. You downed it in one swift motion, hoping the crisp bubbles would offer a fleeting distraction from the swirl of emotions inside you.

As you pour yourself another glass, you hear someone speak up beside you, her voice tinged with curiosity. 

"Well, I must say, I’ve seen many ways to cope with a dull party, but this might be the most... efficient.”

You glanced at the voice and saw a woman smirking at you. She appeared slightly older than you and was dressed in a lavish blue gown that sparkled with every movement, her necklace glinting from the lamps. Her expression conveyed amusement. 

Feeling embarrassed to have been caught in your moment of inner turmoil, you attempted to regain your composure and replied with a hint of forced levity. “It’s quite the dull affair, isn’t it?”

The woman laughed softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Thank goodness, someone who gets it.”

“You seem to be surviving it better than most. I imagine you’ve been through a few parties like these before?”

She nodded, her gaze shifting to a distant corner of the room where a group of guests were deeply engrossed in animated conversation. “Too many, I’m afraid. After a while, it all becomes a blur of extravagant gowns and polite small talk. One learns to navigate these events with a certain... detachment.”

You chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’ve mastered the art of it. I could use a guide through this maze of high society myself. Any tips on surviving the evening without losing one’s sanity—or dignity?”

She grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “Well, first off, always have a backup plan for when the conversation turns to the latest trends in hat feathers or the merits of various imported cheeses. For instance, I’ve found that nodding vigorously while muttering phrases like ‘absolutely fascinating’ works wonders.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll keep that in mind. Though I suspect I might still need a crash course in how to look like I’m genuinely interested in ‘the most enchanting new fabric designs’.”

She chuckled. “Well, when in doubt, fake it till you make it. Nothing says ‘I’m absolutely fine’ like a perfectly practiced smile and a glass of champagne held just so.”

You chuckle and raise your glass at her before taking a sip. A brief silence follows as you both sip from your glasses. The woman then speaks up, her tone warm and friendly, “I’m Eloise, by the way. It’s rare to find someone who sees through the façade of these high-society gatherings.”

You smile, offering her your name. “It seems we’re both on the same wavelength when it comes to these affairs.”

“So what brought you here tonight?”

“Oh, um… I’m just here to accompany my husband, he’s the one with the business connections, so I’m playing the dutiful spouse for the evening.”

Eloise raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Ah, the classic role of the ‘plus one.’ Now which one of these overdressed peacocks is your husband?” 

She sweeps her gaze across the crowd with exaggerated curiosity. “Is he the one with the ridiculous bow tie or the chap with the hat that looks like it’s been borrowed from a magic act?”

You raise your brows in amusement as you glance at the men she’s mentioned, finding the whole scene of tonight’s event even more absurd. Your gaze sweeps over the crowd until you spot Arthur. 

“Actually, that would be him right there.”

Eloise’s eyes follow your pointing finger and widen in genuine surprise. 

“Well, I’ll be!” she exclaims, clearly taken aback. “I must say, he’s certainly not what I was expecting. Doesn't look like he belongs here, in a good way of course. He’s quite the rugged type—like one of those big, tough cowboys you’d see in a wild frontier town. You know the sort: strong, stocky, with a weathered charm that comes from living hard and facing rough challenges.”

The irony of her words makes you laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I must say, you two make quite a handsome pair.” 

You flush at her words, a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness coloring your cheeks. Instead, you offer a polite smile and nod, playing along with the pretense. “Thank you,” you say in a steady voice, unsure of what else to say.

Arthur, briefly looking away from another person he was speaking to, catches your eye for the second time tonight. There’s a fleeting moment of connection—his gaze is intense, and the faintest smile plays at his lips—before he turns back to his conversation partner.

“I must admit,” she says, her tone light and teasing, “there’s more than just a bit of magic in the air between you two. It’s not every day you see such a striking balance. I do believe there’s a certain... chemistry here that’s hard to ignore. How delightful!”

You raise an eyebrow, giving her a confused smile. “What do you mean?”

Eloise’s eyes twinkle with a knowing glint as she glances over at Arthur. “Oh, it’s really quite charming, the way he looks at you. There’s just something in his gaze as if he’s captivated by you in a way that could be missed. It’s rare to see someone look at their partner with such intensity and warmth these days.”

For a moment, you almost correct her, eager to clarify that you and Arthur aren’t actually together. But then you remember the need to maintain the ruse. You glance awkwardly at Arthur, trying to downplay the connection Eloise is suggesting.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you say clearly flustered, trying to sound casual but failing to hide your unease. “I mean, Arthur and I aren’t exactly... well, he’s just got this intense look, which I’m sure it’s nothing more than... you know, his way of being attentive. It’s just a bit of his nature.”

Her smile softens, eyes warm and genuine. “Oh, it’s clear to see if you look hard enough. Even in a crowded room, he seems to be drawn to you. It’s quite endearing.”

The sound of cracks echoed before you could think of a response, and the woman beside you lit up with genuine excitement.

“Finally, something exciting! It's been lovely chatting with you. I do hope we cross paths again. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Eloise sends you a warm smile before hurrying off.

You send her a genuine smile before you turn your gaze upward to the sky, where faint glimmers of fireworks begin to light up the night. The display added a splash of color to the darkened sky, creating a stark contrast to the opulence of the garden below. 

As you watched the vibrant bursts, your thoughts drifted back to the conversation you had with Eloise, trying to process her comments. Her words lingered in your mind, stirring a mix of curiosity and confusion. 

The idea that whatever is between you and Arthur might actually convey something deeper, something affectionate, felt almost surreal given the dynamics between you two and your perspective on your relationship with him.

Perhaps Abigail was right; the more you spent time with Arthur, the more you learned about him and saw him in a new light. What had once seemed like mere pretense or forced partnership now hinted at a connection that transcended your initial expectations. 

The way he moved, the way he spoke, the moments of unguarded sincerity—it all started to paint a different picture. The possibility that these moments could be more than just part of the act began to take root, stirring a blend of curiosity and apprehension within you.

You quickly down your drink before setting the empty glass on the table.

Suddenly, a rough hand wrapping around your wrist jolts you out of your thoughts and you turn to see Arthur who all but tugged you along behind him. 

You let out a scowl. “Hey! What the-”

Arthur glanced over his shoulder, a mix of amusement and determination on his face. “Come on, we just caught wind that the Mayor’s gotten somethin’ from Cornwall. Dutch reckons we oughta figure out what it is, make sure we ain’t missin’ nothin’ crucial.”

“And you need me because?” You asked with slight irritation as he continued to pull you along.

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice taking on a low, firm tone. “I need you to keep watch, and your lock-pickin’ skills could come in handy… ‘sides, you’re my wife don’t forget.” He added with a teasing smirk. 

“Can’t have you wanderin’ off by yourself lookin’ like I’ve neglected you. That wouldn’t reflect too well on me now, would it?”

You shot him a glare, yanking your wrist free from his grip. “Could’ve just asked me”

Arthur’s lips twitched with a hint of a smirk. “You looked so wrapped up in the fireworks, darlin’, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

You bit back a retort, your frustration mingling with a begrudging understanding of his point.  “Don’t call me that,” you said, a hint of irritation in your voice at the use of the nickname. 

Arthur raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening slightly. “Alright, sweetheart. Try to keep up now.”

Trailing closely behind Arthur as you followed the servant, you effortlessly weaved through the spectators, who were too engrossed in watching the fireworks to notice you. 

The servant circled around to the side of the house and ascended a small set of steps leading out of the garden. He paused briefly to engage in a conversation with someone before slipping inside through a side door.

The both of you followed cautiously, making sure to stay out of sight. Inside, you overheard the man berating a maid before he made his way up the stairs, retracing your steps to the upper levels where you had previously been.

Just before reaching the landing, Arthur raises his hand, halting you in your tracks. He peers over the edge of the wall, watching as the servant enters the locked room, heads to a desk, and inserts a key into a drawer to place the letter inside. The servant then disappears further into the room, the sound of a door closing signaling that it is time for you and Arthur to make your move.

Arthur moves first, effortlessly slipping inside through the wide-open door left by the servant. You quickly scan the area to ensure it's clear before following him.

He makes his way over to the desk and tugs at the drawer, only to find it locked. Grabbing a letter opener from the table, he attempts to pry it open. You watch with amusement as he grunts in frustration, struggling to get it to budge.

“Honestly, watching you fumble with that is almost painful,” you remarked, making Arthur roll his eyes and throw up his hands in a gesture that clearly invited you to take over. With a sigh, you stepped in, gently nudging him aside before kneeling down to get eye-level with the lock.

Pulling a pin from your updo, your hair falls loosely over your back, leaving your style in a half-up, half-down look. You insert the pin into the lock, and after a few moments of fumbling, a triumphant smile spreads across your face at the satisfying click of the lock opening.

You stand back up and look over at Arthur, giving him a smug smile when you catch him staring. You raise an eyebrow, and he quickly clears his throat, shifting his gaze away as if caught in the act of something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

"I, uh, never seen you with your hair down before," he comments before he can think twice, his voice trailing off as he leans over the drawer, a hint of color creeping into his cheeks. 

"Nice work," he adds, his eyes momentarily meeting yours before darting away.

You raise an eyebrow at his flustered demeanor, the corner of your mouth twitching in amusement, “I’m glad you approve.” 

You watch as he sifts through the drawer's contents until his hands close around a book with a piece of paper inside. He briefly reads the paper, nods, and then tears it in half, slipping the pieces into his suit pocket.

“You got it?” 

“Yeah, let’s get outta here,” he replies, glancing around making sure no one is watching before heading out the door with you following closely behind

Just as you were about to move down the stairs, the creaking sound of someone coming up halted both of your tracks. Without warning, Arthur grabbed you, pushing you gently but firmly against the wall beside the staircase, his body pressing close to yours. His arms caged around the sides of your head, creating a tight, protective barrier.

The sudden proximity left you acutely aware of his body against yours, his chest nearly brushing yours as his arms trapped you in place.

His gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race even faster. His brow furrowed slightly as if he were struggling to control a rush of emotions.

The closeness had clearly caught both of you off guard, the charged atmosphere between you almost palpable. His breath came in short, controlled bursts, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he struggled to maintain his composure.

As he held you there, his expression softened just a fraction, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath his usually guarded demeanor. His voice, though still firm, carried a hint of concern as he leaned close to whisper, "Just stay still and quiet.”

The proximity of his breath against your ear made the moment feel even more intimate, amplifying the unexpected connection between you. The closeness, once marked by animosity, now seemed charged with a different kind of tension—one that was both electrifying and confusing.

As you stood there, the boundaries between duty and emotion blurred, and the shared space between you felt charged with unspoken understanding and vulnerability.

His eyes, usually hard with resolve or irritation, softened as they locked with yours. There was a softness in his gaze, a flicker of something raw and unguarded.

The emotion he held in his eyes made you reconsider the hostility that had defined your interactions. In that moment, the anger and resentment seemed to fade, replaced by a deeper, more complex understanding of the man standing so close to you.

The sound of footsteps drawing nearer to the top of the stairs heightened the urgency of the moment and Arthur’s gaze shifted to you once more.

One of his arms lowered from the wall behind you, and he placed his hand softly at the back of your neck. His touch lingered without applying too much pressure. You felt a shiver at the contact of his hand on your neck, the warmth of his touch sending an unexpected jolt of emotion through you, bringing a surge of feelings you had been trying to suppress all night.

The gentle warmth of his hand contrasted sharply with the intensity of his gaze, creating a palpable connection that seemed to heighten the gravity of your precarious situation.

Your heart pounded as you met his intense gaze, which held a rare blend of sincerity and vulnerability that was almost disarming.

“You trust me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with a sincerity that cut through the tension of the moment.

You hesitated, the weight of his question hanging between you. The proximity of his body and the depth of his gaze left you momentarily breathless. “Why should I?” you whispered back, your voice betraying a mix of defiance and vulnerability.

Arthur’s eyes never left yours as he leaned in closer. “Because right now, it’s the only way we’re getting out of this,” he replied, his tone resolute but gentle.

In that charged silence, the dynamics of your relationship were shifting. You felt the usual barriers between you—formed by past conflicts and mutual distrust—began to dissolve, replaced by an unspoken understanding that was both electrifying and comforting. The anger and rivalry giving way to a fragile trust and an unexpected tenderness. 

With the footsteps slowly growing nearer, you saw a flicker of sincerity in his eyes that made you question your own doubts. You nodded slightly, trying to steady your breath. “Alright,” you whispered.

Arthur's lips curved into a faint smile, a mixture of relief and determination. “You gotta say it, sweetheart,” he urged softly.

Your mouth curled into a slight smirk as you looked up at him, your heart racing with a blend of anxiety and anticipation. “I trust you,” you said, the words feeling like a pact forged in the heat of the moment.

In a quick, decisive motion, he leans in and presses a firm, purposeful kiss to your lips, filled with urgency. The initial touch is electrifying, but as the kiss deepens, it becomes a release of suppressed feelings, a flood of emotions long held in check.

The kiss is fervent and consuming, each moment stretching out as if to make up for lost time. His lips are warm and insistent against yours, and there’s a raw, desperate quality to the way he kisses you. It feels as though every emotion he’s been holding back is being poured into this single, intense connection.

Your own lips respond with equal fervor, the kiss becoming a mutual surrender to the feelings that have been building between you. The world around you fades into the background, the only reality being the overwhelming sensation of his kiss. 

Arthur’s hand that had been pressed firmly against the wall, now frame your face with a gentleness that contrasts with the intensity of the kiss. His grip is both tender and possessive, as if he’s anchoring you to him, unwilling to let go.

The sound of someone clearing their throat suddenly jolts you back to reality. 

A servant, caught off guard by the intimate display before him, stood at the top of the stairs. His eyes widened in surprise, clearly unprepared for the passionate exchange unfolding before him.

You and Arthur break the kiss, though the intensity of the moment lingers in the charged air between you. With a quick, shared glance, you and Arthur both adjust your demeanor, the brief intimacy giving way to the reality of the mission.

The man, realizing he has intruded on a private and critical moment, clears his throat, clearly flustered at having walked in on the intimate scene before him, face flushing with embarrassment. "I-I’m sorry to interrupt, but this area is restricted to guests unless otherwise accompanied,” he stammers.

Arthur’s eyes narrow slightly, but his expression quickly returns to a more controlled demeanor. He gives the servant a nod of acknowledgment. “Sorry ‘bout that, partner. Seems my wife and I took a wrong turn and found ourselves in the wrong spot. We were just about to head on out.”

You, still caught in the afterglow of the kiss, straighten yourself and try to regain your composure. The abrupt interruption leaves you with a swirl of mixed emotions—embarrassment, irritation, and a lingering sense of affection. You cast a quick glance at Arthur, who responds with a subtle nod, signaling that it's time to move on.

Still visibly flustered, the servant offers a hurried apology, stepping aside with a rigid posture and a face flushed a deep shade of red. He tries to give you both space as you and Arthur hurry down the stairs, the charged atmosphere from the kiss still lingering between you. The abrupt return to reality sharpens your sense of urgency.

Arthur takes a deep breath, stepping back as his gaze meets yours for a moment longer. He opens his mouth to say something but hesitates before speaking again. “We should get a move on and find Dutch and the rest ‘em.”

You noticed his hesitation but decided to brush it off, nodding in agreement. “Sure, let’s see what’s next. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

You find Dutch, Hosea, and Bill on the first-floor balcony. 

“Ah, there you are!” Dutch exclaims, a smile on his face. He then turns to Arthur. “Find anything?”

Arthur gives a nod and taps his chest where he’s tucked the letter. “I think so.”

“Great. I think we’re done here.”

The four of you move to follow Dutch, briefly exchanging information with Hosea and Bill. Hosea mentions a potential robbery job targeting a big city bank, outlining the possible opportunities involved. You share what you’ve gathered earlier about a stagecoach expected to pass through Lemoyne in the next few weeks and the valuable jewels and cash it carries.

Dutch, Hosea, and Bill push past the front entrance, walking ahead. Just before you can follow, Arthur calls your name and gently grabs your arm, pulling you aside.

In the quiet corridor, away from the others, you face him. His eyes are a mixture of resolve and something else you can’t quite place. “Listen, I, uh…,” he trails off, his voice low, seeming to wrestle with his words for a moment before finally meeting your gaze. 

Your heart races, expecting him to address what happened between you earlier and the emotions that followed. 

Instead, Arthur’s tone is hesitant and detached. “‘Bout what happened earlier… I don’t want you thinkin’ it meant more than it did. We can’t afford to get all wrapped up in nothin’ personal.”

His dismissal hits you like a cold wave.

You had hoped for some acknowledgment of the shared moment, perhaps a sign that it meant something to him. Instead, his words feel like a sharp rebuff, making you question everything you thought you understood about what happened tonight.

“What are you talking about?” you demand, trying to mask the hurt in your voice. Your frustration and anger boil over. 

Arthur’s gaze falters for a moment before he regains his composure. He runs a hand over his face, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I just don’t think—” he begins, but his voice trails off as he lets out a frustrated sigh. 

He steps back, clearly distancing himself. “Look–I can’t offer you anything more than what we have. Let’s just focus on ending this job and not let personal feelings complicate things.”

You scoff, feeling the sting of his words. Personal feelings? 

“Right, so all that back there was just for show, was it? Just keeping up appearances?”

Arthur’s expression falters, and he hesitates. He opens his mouth to respond but closes it again, his frustration evident as he struggles to find the right thing to say. 

He turns to you, his expression now seeming emotionless and cold. “I didn’t mean to make it seem like nothin’ mattered. It’s just… I’m not tryin’ to make things too complicated. It’s best to keep things straightforward right now.”

The words and his tone cuts through you like a knife, the brief connection you shared now feels like a cruel tease, an illusion of intimacy shattered by the harsh reality.

His coldness is a stark contrast to the warmth you felt moments before, leaving you grappling with a mix of hurt and frustration. 

What started as mutual disdain had evolved into something more complex, yet now it feels like it's spiraling back into that familiar animosity.

You’d hoped that beneath the hostility and barbed comments, the genuine connection hinted at earlier tonight might bridge the gap between your conflicting dynamic. But now, it feels as if his rejection is pulling you back to square one—a place locked in an endless cycle of arguments and misunderstandings.

The idea that the warmth of those moments might have been nothing more than a strategic move or a fleeting distraction makes you question if there was ever truly a chance for something different between you two.

God, how naive you were to think there could be a sliver of something more between you and Arthur.

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself to focus on the task ahead. You push aside the personal turmoil, resolving to keep your interactions with Arthur as they were before—distant and guarded. 

With a blank expression masking the tumultuous emotions roiling beneath, you reply, “Fine. Let’s just get this night over with and move on. I’ll keep any ‘personal feelings’ out of the way if that makes it better for you.”

You turn away, forcing yourself not to say anything further that might reveal your feelings. As you do, you didn't miss the brief flash of hurt and sadness in Arthur’s expression before he quickly masks it with his usual stoic demeanor.

Finally rejoining the others, you enter the stagecoach and take your seat from before. Arthur takes his place beside you, the space between you charged with unspoken words and lingering hurt. 

The rift between the two of you feels even more pronounced, a painful reminder of what might have been overshadowed by the harsh reality of your circumstances.

Hosea and Dutch, seated across from you, seem to be blissfully unaware of the personal turmoil that has unfolded between you and Arthur, their conversation flowing naturally as they discuss the next steps of the gang’s plans.

The stagecoach rolls forward, and you turn to look out the window, drowning yourself in the passing scenery. The kiss and its aftermath now feel like an unspoken wound, deepening the complexity of your already fraught relationship and leaving you to grapple with the emotional fallout alone.

A/N: Okay so that ending was definitely not a happy one. After exploring where the story might go and experimenting more with the writing, I've decided that I mighttttt just make a Part 2, which might or might not include some smut hehe... So please stay tuned!

Thanks again for reading!

Read Part Two Here

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Disturbing the Force

It was an epic day of Harkle shenanigans after just over a month of radio silence from Harry and a week and half without Meghan.

And they both came roaring back to the public consciousness in top form. Let's wind the clock back a little bit, and dive in.

June 14, 2024

It's Trooping Eve, and Kate kicks the celebration off with an update on her health, a new portrait, and an announcement that she will attend The King's Birthday Parade the next day. The social media post goes viral and it becomes breaking news, complete with push alerts.

June 15, 2024

Trooping Saturday. Kate makes her glorious and glamorous return to the public spotlight. Charles, recovering from his own health battle, looks fab as well.

Meghan can't deal with it and orders Nacho Figueras to shill her latest products for Roop ARO, raspberry jam and dog biscuits. The backlash is swift and immediate, and Meghan issues an almost-apology saying she didn't know that Kate would be returning to work on Trooping Saturday and she didn't intend to distract from it.

(Sure, and I didn't intend to drink a whole bottle of prosecco but 🤷‍♀️ here we are, snark and all.)

June 16, 2024

Father's Day. The official BRF social media posts archival footage of Charles and Prince Philip. William posts a photo of himself with Charles. Kate posts a photo of William and the kids with the kids' first post on social media.

The Sussexes don't observe Father's Day, unless you count activating the bots and the Squad to complain about William honoring his father with a photo that doesn't include his father's other son.

June 17, 2024

It's Garter Monday. All is quiet. William looks fantastic, as always. Kate is missed, as always.

June 18, 2024

Royal Ascot begins. It's still quiet. Lady Gabriella makes a public appearance, riding in a carriage with Anne and Peter. She looks to be in high spirits.

Meghan is still smarting over the public calling her out for stealing Kate's glory. She fires up the hotmail and gives exclusive comments to British tabloid Closer (not to be confused with Kyra Sedgwick's The Closer) that:

“Both Harry and Meghan have been following Kate’s recovery with huge interest, but sadly it’s had to be more from afar because their lines of communication with the palace and The Waleses, in particular, are very limited, to say the least. They have had enough information to know that people are excited about the idea of a comeback for Kate and they’re both relieved and happy to hear that she’s on the mend and may soon be well enough to return to her duties. They’ve jointly reached out to send well wishes, but they’re still not really in a place with Kate to warrant much of a response. That hasn’t stopped them from trying to connect and do what they see as the right thing. When Kate gets back into action, their hope is that it might take some of the heat off them and possibly trigger a truce with her and William, and with the King, too.”

and

“Meghan’s desperate to come across as the bigger person and end this feud between them – appearing like some sort of royal saviour could only do her image good. And, despite all their bad blood, her heart does go out to Kate – she can only imagine how hard this situation must be for her. Meghan has made it clear she’d love nothing more than to move past all the nonsense and find a way towards healing for everyone’s sake. She’s ready and willing to let the anger and bitterness go. Of course, it’s not really up to her and Harry, all they can do is continue to reach out and offer olive branches. Meghan hopes her feelings are being communicated to Kate through their mutual friends. There’s no doubt making peace with William and Kate would be a huge relief for Meghan on many levels, not least because it would also improve her reputation and, in turn, the new brand she’s cultivating.”

Y'all, I cannot. Meghan says she has mutual friends with Kate. Ha! That's as believable as "William's friend" giving exclusives to Richard Eden about William's plan for his monarchy.

and

“Meghan would love to be accepted by the British public again and getting the seal of approval from Kate and William would go a long way towards that. It’s got to be pretty nerve-wracking for Meghan, so much is riding on making amends with Kate and William and no matter what she and Harry do, ultimately they have very little control over the outcome, all they can do is continue to reach out, and hope for the best.”

Just to remind everyone, Closer is probably the source of the Sussexes' new British PR person that they promoted pre-Nigeria.

June 19, 2024

William attends Royal Ascot with his cousins and the Middletons. Everyone loves how close he is with his parents-in-law, compared to, well, you know.

Absolutely no one picks up Meghan's interview with Closer (maybe she should've tried Kyra Sedgwick) so Meghan's hotmail tips off the New York Post, who finally writes about it.

(Fun fact. I went to college with a girl who went to school with the Bacon-Sedgwick kids. She told me once that Kevin Bacon is more amazing than you think he is but Kyra is a bitch.)

(Also I'm watching the AFI Achievement Award for Nicole Kidman and she is so fabulous. Oh, man. They're parodying her AMC commercial with MORGAN FREEMAN. Sorry, guys. I really did drink that whole bottle of prosecco so please just bear with me.)

June 20, 2024

Meghan's check to her old stomping grounds, OK Magazine, clears and they write about the Closer's Olive Branch.

June 21, 2024

William's birthday. Kate posts one of the most amazing photographs she's ever taken of William and the kids, jumping off a sand cliff on the beach at Norfolk. One of the things that fascinates me the most about this photo is how William and George (the future kings) are looking at the camera while Charlotte and Louis are looking forward. I suppose someone more sober than me tonight can make an eloquent metaphor about how the kings are looking at their people while the spares are looking for their landing zone.

William takes his kids, Mike and Zara, Peter and Savannah, and some friends to see Taylor Swift. They have an absolutely chaotic time shaking it off, hanging out with Taylor, and meeting the Kelce Brothers.

Wales loyalists photoshop Harry's Friar Tuck into the birthday photo (or maybe it was the Father's Day photo? it was really well-done) and they also do a "who wore it best" of the dueling pink linen suits: Mike Tindall at the Eras Tour or Meghan Markle at the Lakers game.

June 22, 2024

Sussex Squad continue their shenanigans over William's dancing and attendance at the Eras Tour.

Thomas Markle publishes an op-ed in the Daily Mail talking about how all he wants is to talk to Meghan again and see her children.

It reminds me of ancient tea that came out in July 2018 (yes I can remember that specifically because I was riding on a very stinking hot London underground subway at the time) that Meghan and her people were shopping for PR agencies in late 2017/early 2018 and Meghan's brief to the PR agencies included that Samantha and Tom Sr. were to be used as sources and strategies for PR.

Whenever Meghan needs to reset the public narrative, she trots out dear ol' Dad to give her the victim edit. It's her MO, right there next to "throw everyone under the bus."

June 23, 2024

Richard Eden's op-ed that the Sussexes are becoming more irrelevanter than irrelevant gets picked up by American media, including the New York Post. But before you can think "someone forgot to pay them this week!", the article course-corrects, reminding us that the Sussexes had graciously offered to pick up royal duties while Charles and Kate are away but mean William won't let them.

June 24, 2024

The Mirror rubs it in Harry's face that he doesn't stand a chance at inheriting Diana's home. Apparently we're all "surprised" that Earl Spencer's son is set to inherit the estate "due to the aristocracy's system of primogeniture."

That reminds me. Earl Spencer's archaeological dig at Althorp found a roman bracelet. He posted about it on Twitter. (We're allowed to still call it Twitter, according to the Supreme Court.) (And I guess he's still boinking the archaeologist.)

June 25, 2024

The Japan State Visit to the UK begins. William looks fantastic accompanying the Emperor and his wife to the parade grounds to begin the visit. We all wonder what he's going to do because the state banquet takes place the same time as football. Is he going to smuggle his phone to the dinner? (Nope! But he must have required someone at KP to watch the match because their "congratulations" tweet went up lickety-split.)

Charles makes a comment during his toast about his grandchildren and Sussex Squad and anti-Katers seize ahold of it to mean that he's talking about Archie and Lili.

The BRF courts controversy when Sophie wears the Lotus Flower Tiara (famously loaned to Kate) and issues a press release saying that Queen Camilla loaned it to Sophie. Everyone gets mad and blog-shouts how dare she but I think it's a nothingburger. You can see that the tiara still "belongs" to Kate because the velvet wrapping on the brace is still the dark brown of Kate's hair (as opposed to being changed to yellow for Sophie's hair) so probably Kate meant to wear it but she couldn't attend, so it was given to Sophie because of what the lotus symbolizes in Japanese culture. (I have another anon that wrote in about this. I'll post it soon.)

Not to be outdone, Meghan's hotmail tells Marie Claire Magazine to promote her latest olive branch (from Closer on June 18th, but they quote OK Magazine's story from June 20th).

June 26, 2024

Scotty's Little Soldiers published a tearful video discussion their founder, Nikki Scott, had with Harry over loss and grief. Harry talked about losing his mother. Nikki talked about dealing with the loss of her husband and having to tell her then-five year old child.

Harry has supported Scotty's Little Soldiers since 2017 when he met the founder at a Buckingham Palace event. Harry later named Scotty's Little Soldiers as one of seven charities for his wedding.

The video doesn't really get much attention, largely going unnoticed by most. (There's some speculation it was filmed last week or when Harry was last in the UK (May for the Invictus anniversary) but I am one with the couch now.)

June 27, 2024

It was a busy, busy day for the Sussexes!

First, There was a ruling in one of Harry's lawsuits, which drops a bomb that Harry is being accused by News Group Newspapers (whom he's suing in one of his umpteen lawsuits in the phone hacking case that won't go away) of having destroyed evidence for the lawsuit. In a (tipsy) nutshell (I mean, let's face it, you do sorta have to be tipsy to understand the lawsuits), NGN wants Harry to disclose what information / evidence he has, or has knowledge of existing, supporting his allegations of the phone hacking. They are trying to find out if Harry knew he had a claim (aka grounds for a lawsuit) before 2013. If they can prove he did, then the case can be thrown out because it was filed too late.

The judge is concerned that Harry's lawyers hasn't addressed that issue and he doesn't like that Harry has been doing all the research himself and - reading between the lines - it's a veiled accusation of obstruction because it sounds like Harry has refused to cooperate with the lawyers by deliberately controlling and withholding his records from evidence disclosure. NGN says "We have had to drag those out of the claimant [Harry] kicking and screaming."

Additionally, the judge revealed "troubling evidence" that tons of messages between Harry and his Spare ghostwriter over emails and apps had been destroyed. (This is the destruction of evidence issue.

Ah, the neighbors have started shooting off July 4th fireworks. *eagle screech of freedom*)

The judge ruled that Harry and/or his team:

Must conduct a wider search of his laptop and WhatsApp account(s) for the missing emails, texts, and messages for exchanges from 2005 through early 2023

Must try to retrieve the messages from the Signal app he used to communciate with his Spare ghostwriter.

Must produce a witness statement to explain his exchanges with the ghostwriter (which could lead to testimony from the ghostwriter -- juicy!)

Must send letters to the royal household and their lawyers requesting copies relating to Harry's communications during this time so they could be examined for relevance and applicability. Two people from the royal household were named and y'all, I don't think they're happy about getting dragged into this.

Must make an interim payment of 60,000 pounds to NGN for their costs of the hearing. (I don't know why.)

(Reuters Link)

Second, the ESPYs announced today that Harry will be receiving their Pat Tillman Award for Service for his work with Invictus Games.

Here is what the press release says about Harry's selection:

In honor of his tireless work in making a positive impact for the veteran community through the power of sport, Prince Harry, The Duke of Sussex will receive the Pat Tillman Award for Service, an award given to a person with a strong connection to sports who has served others in a way that echoes the legacy of the former NFL player and U.S. Army Ranger, Pat Tillman. After serving for 10 years in the British Armed Forces, including two tours of duty in Afghanistan as a forward air controller and Apache helicopter pilot, Prince Harry founded The Invictus Games Foundation, continuing his service by creating an international platform to support wounded, injured, and sick servicemen and women – both active-duty and veterans – who are navigating both physical and invisible injuries. Since inception, the Games have transcended borders and impacted lives across every continent, bringing together competitors from 23 nations, with continued support and programming 365 days of the year. Now celebrating its tenth year, The Invictus Games has evolved into a globally celebrated and acclaimed organization that celebrates resilience, community, and healing through the power of sport. Past recipients of the Pat Tillman Award for Service include Jake Wood (2018), Kirstie Ennis (2019), Kim Clavel (2020), Marcus Rashford (2021), Gretchen Evans (2022) and the Buffalo Bills Training Staff (2023). 

Yeah, we're all sorts of pissed off because it's clear that Harry bought the award because he certainly doesn't qualify for it. Invictus Games qualifies for the award; not their bratty founder who takes all the credit.

It was totally purchased for the 10th anniversary of Invictus and to help Harry look important, like he actually does something and is worth everything he grifts gets. Speaking of, they haven't announced the 2027 host yet. Small mercies, I suppose. I wouldn't put it past them to try and announce it during the Olympics, because one thing Harry (and Meghan too) is very good at is not being able to read the fucking room.

According to the tea that has leaked out, the ESPY announcement caught many off-guard at ESPN because it was not meant to happen today (check out the comments here), leading to theories that:

The Sussexes are trying to bury the news that Harry's lawsuit isn't going well and that he's been reamed out in court.

Harry is trying to compete with William, who is attending a conference today for Earthshot 2023 winners with Bill Gates and Hannah Waddingham.

It's a tactical PR campaign to prop Hero Harry up for the UK's observance of Armed Forces Day on Saturday, June 29th.

or

4. All of the above.

(if you guessed #4, you're right!)

Third, in the most amazing of coincidences, Meghan Markle was papped in Beverly Hills merching a tracksuit for a photo shoot. Since it was near a popular coffee shop, my theory is that she's doing something for that Clevr thing, the one she did the commercial for last year. Maybe some kind of corporate partnership with her lifestyle brand. Clevr + ARO = the tracksuit fashion no one but Sue Sylvester needs.

Anyway. That's what you missed on Glee.

[radiance1]

Vlad has been de-aged.

Now, if you were to ask Danny exactly how this happened, he would not be able to answer with 100% accuracy. But he thinks his parents have a hand in this, and you see, if it was just physically it wouldn't be a problem.

But he also has the mental equivalent of a 10-year-old.

A very innocent, 10-year-old, at that.

Vlad didn't seem to remember a whole lot, not his parents, not him, not Amity Park, not his college years, not even how to use most of his powers correctly. The only thing he did manage to remember were his childhood years, his businessman knowledge, high-class etiquette and other high society things.

So an innocent, yet business sharp and cunning 10-year-old.

Now, Danny doesn't quite know how to handle this sudden change, but he does know that he should take this opportunity to poke fun at Vlad and continue poking fun until he's changed back, and that he should keep himself out of Vlad's business and let him deal with this on his own.

He finally kicking back and relaxing, after not having to deal with any of Vlad's schemes whatsoever, and was living his best life. At least, until he saw his parents trying to capture a smaller, more Un-proficient Plasmius when he was eating ice-cream.

...He should just ignore it, they won't do anything bad, I mean, come on. He looks like a kid, what would be the worst they would do? But then again... this is his parents he's talking about, and he was a prime example of what lengths they were willing to go to when concerning a ghost that looks like a child.

Goodbye, Ice-cream. You will be missed.

So he saves him from his parents, getting a parting ecto-shot for his troubles and a kid who seems to be scared out of his mind yet trying to hid it behind a mask of calm and collection. Yet as soon as he turned to leave, Vlad somehow got it into his skull that Danny might be his brother, because he taught Vlad how to go human again by show of example.

He didn't sign up for this.

So now here he is, dragged to a high society Gala held by the Waynes of all people- who managed to be famous enough to even reach past Amity Park's relatively closed off nature- and acting like Vlad's older brother who wasn't picked to succeed Vlad's company in the face of his more business smart younger brother, the older Vlad was said to be sick so he had to send his two sons (who nobody knew he had) to attend in his place.

Danny didn't sign up for this.

He was literally just here to steer the more innocent Vlad away from his ghost-crazy parents, help him get a handle on his powers, and calm him down if they were started going out of wack. He did not sign up for a Gala, but true to Vlad's fruitloopish nature transcending space and time even to when he was child, he effectively weaponized puppy dog eyes to force him into compliance.

He just hopes nothing significant happens at this Gala.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 19

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 18, Part 20

Warning! This chapter has child abuse, neglect, racism/classism and other sensitive topics! This is a imposter sagau so expect these things frequently. Attention! This chapter is extra long as it deals with Y/N's past and present. But I don't want to force a backstory that you guys might not want. Therefore you can read and choose what part of the backstory you want to be 'canon' for your Y/N. Whether be all, parts or none of it. It's your choice.

Your earliest memory was of a hospital. A vase of dying daisies, a child-sized bedding and a window slightly cracked to let in the night breeze were the only things you remember from that day.

A nurse gently knocked before walking in without looking up from the papers in his hands. 

"How are you feeling today Y/N? I hope you aren't suffering from nightma-Oh! You're awake!"

The brief exclamation from the startled nurse pieced you in that you weren't supposed to be awake. Or maybe, you haven't been awake for a long time?

Dry cracked lips wheeze out your small plea. "W-Water…" Coming back to himself, the nurse adhered to your request and brought the cup to your lips.

It was a cool relief to your aching throat and the first thing you asked him was.

"Who's Y/N?"

That cup of water and clinically clean blanket was the comfort you had during the next flurry of events.

That day, laying in a bed on the pediatric floor of a hospital, you learned that your parents were dead.

An accident that would have presumably traumatized you had little to no effect on your psyche. When the doctor asked you what happened you didn't have an answer.

You didn't have an answer for most of their questions either. After a series of fruitless questions the doctor and psychiatrist called in, settled on the diagnosis 'Retrograde Amnesia'.

Being stuck in a medically induced coma, you had to relearn how to walk along with other basic info. The photo of your parents, friends and house went ignored on your bedside. Why should you care about people and places you didn't remember? It's not like you were going to go back.

Most of the hospital staff gossiped in poorly concealed whispers as your nurse, Malcohm, walked with you around the floor. It was all the same thing.

"That child's poor parents, to not even be remembered by the one thing left behind."

It didn't bother you much but Malcohm always shooed them away with a scowl. He was kind to you, from helping you remember your name, to remembering what your parents' names were. 

It's not like you didn't remember that you had a name or that you had parents. But all the memories you had of them were gone. All your past experiences were gone too. 

The doctors were relieved to see that your memory loss was only applied to everything before the accident and not after it too. A date to be discharged was decided and a stoic man came to greet you. 

There was no warmth or care in his voice as he introduced himself as Mr. Castio. Not a drop of sympathy as he explained that you would be attending your parent's funeral. That your relatives would be there too, to discuss who would be willing to take you in. All you could do was stare at the newly replaced daisies and nod silently. 

If there was one thing you had relearned during your time at the hospital, it was that adults were to be obeyed. With a sad goodbye to Malcolm, you trailed behind Mr. Castio into the shiny black car.

You sat in the first row dressed in traditional and simple black clothing. Multiple people came up to you apologizing for your 'loss'. With a soft nod, you thanked them and they left satisfied. Mr. Castio had already advised you to not bother explaining the situation.

All your relatives spoke fondly of your parents until it came time to name anything they liked about your parents. The whole room went silent before little hesitant whispers floated around the room.

Seems you weren't the only one that couldn't remember.

The silence only got more unbearable once the topic of who you would be going with came up. Older adults volunteering younger family members while they vehemently denied the position. 

It was only after one uncle asked what would happen to your parents inheritance that greedy stares bombarded you. Picking at the stray fabric of the cushion, you ignored them all.

Mr. Castio clarified that the money would be untouched until you turned eighteen. Immediately, everyone looked away. No one wanted to raise a seven year old to adulthood without any immediate compensation. 

The funeral ended with your parents being incinerated. No one took the urns. It made you wonder why none of your grandparents showed up.

By the end of the day it was your aunt who agreed to foster you. Mr. Castio brought you to your parents house to collect your belongings. 

The house was clean and in order but the slight dust showed that it hasn't had a visitor in a while. Entering your room, you noticed how plain it was. Not a single toy, drawing or other personal object in sight. 

It unnerved you enough that you packed quick enough to not stay any longer. Curiosity poked at you to find out what kind of parents you had but you were more concerned on what your aunt is like.

She had a son and a husband you haven't met during the months you lived there. Her son was rude but never gave you any personal trouble. It was more common for him to throw a tantrum over one thing or another then bother you.

It wasn't an ideal life, but you weren't miserable. You ate three meals, had a bed and had supplies for school. Everything is fine, life is fine.

That thought was repeated as you sat in school with paper being thrown at the back of your head. The teacher ignored the behavior and your aunt repeatedly told you to not cause trouble. Even as you ate a different meal then your cousin and slept in the cramped closet-like room.

It was fine.

Until it wasn't.

A broken picture frame laid on the ground between you and your cousin, the ball he was playing with rolled to the opposite side of the room. When your aunt walked in, he cried and blamed you for it, saying that he told you not to play indoors.

This wasn't your fault and you said as much, but no matter what you said she just shook her head. You laid in bed with an empty stomach as your cousin’s words echoed in your ears.

"You shouldn't have tried to snitch on me."

School got worse with your cousin instigating more bullying against you. The house got tense as your cousin put all his energy into making you miserable. Day after day your aunt looked more and more stressed.

You still couldn't understand why he kept picking on you. There were no plans of revenge or fights, you relatively stayed neutral and passive. Life wasn't fine but you would have stayed like that until you overheard a conversation.

"-yeah, I'm only getting that much money for fostering Y/N. Shitty, right?"

Inelligle sounds came from the telephone in your Aunt's hand as she stored her jewelry. 

"If only my son would stop taking it. He already fights so much with Y/N and I just punish Y/N because a parent should always take their child's side. That child should have just passed away with their parents if they wanted to cause trouble."

Silently, you left back to the closet with the makeshift bed. Staring at the ceiling, you slowly accepted the reality of your situation.

Her wishing you to be dead alongside your parents wasn't the issue. What mattered was that she didn't care about the truth. She knew it was your cousin who started every problem and punished you because you weren’t her kid. 

That night, sleep didn't reach you as you spiraled into plans of vengeance. 

There was no sadness or shock on your face when you eavesdropped on her phone call with Mr. Castio. You merely noted the date that Mr. Castio would pick you up from your Aunts. You always had a feeling she would give you up, it just took longer than expected.

She and your cousin left to go celebrate whatever made-up achievement he lied about. Leaving you, an eight year old, home alone to your devices. If you ignored the list of chores you had to clean for ‘provoking your cousin into hitting you’, of course.

The house was cleaned to perfection when your aunt returned. The door creaked as she peeked in to see you dusting off the bookshelf in the guest room. She left satisfied as you set a book back on the shelf, covering a broken lock.

That night she told you to pack everything as Mr. Castio would be coming the next day. You simply nodded and left the room as your cousin laughed. You smiled too when he began asking what would happen to the money as your Aunt shushed him furiously.

Breakfast was cold as usual the next day, the mocking jeers your cousin spouted rolled off you with no reaction. Rolling his eyes at your ‘tough act’, your cousin scoffed before opening his lips to spout whatever snarky remark he had. Until the door to your Aunt’s room slammed open. She stormed in and whispered-yelled to him while pulling his ear.

You didn't have to hear to know what was said. All you heard next was-

"I didn't take the money!"

She's too mad to shush him and yells back. "Then who did?!" 

He stutters as he glances around the room. His eyes lock onto your stoic face with a frustrated expression.

"It was Y/N, they took it, they took the money!" He points at you as faux tears bubble up, his pathetic little sniffles only earn an annoyed sigh from his mother.

"What money?" You ask, tilting your head. Wide eyed, you stare at them both innocently, confusion emitting from your being all the while.

Mouth agape, your cousin looks back to his mother as she pinches the spot between her eyebrows.  "You're grounded until I get back all the money I lost, or until you return it." 

He tries to argue more but the ring of the doorbell interrupts the argument. Mr. Castio is let in and he merely motions you to follow him. Your aunt leaves the room with more wrinkles than she came in with.

With no goodbye, you grab your bag and walk to the door. Pausing you glance back at your cousin, a wide smirk is clear on your face. His eyes widen as realization sets in but there's nothing more that can be done as you close the door. 

--------------------------------

The sun breaks dawn as a quill scratches against rough paper. The ink is used in elegant strokes as Violetgrass is grounded and packaged. Yellow-slitted eyes read it over once more before folding it and writing the recipient on the exterior. 

Pearly white scales glint with the ray of the sun as the snake is woken up gently. Sleepily, she loops around and climbs the outreach hand to hang around the owner's neck.

"It's merely daybreak, who could be needing medicine so dearly?"

"A fever could kill, you know that as well as I do, Changsheng." A smooth, melodic voice comes from the snake-eyed man as he stands from his desk and walks toward the cabinets. The letter is put into one cabinet and another is opened to obtain an opened vial of medication.

"Herbalist Gui stayed the night to take care of this particular patient so I'll give them the last of the medication so he can go home."

Glasses perched and viridian hair tied up, Baizhu walks into the back room and knocks softly. A tired looking Gui startles as a child sleeps on the bed. Her father is slumped on the bed as he sleeps soundly, his eye bags comparable to Gui's from his many nights spent worrying over his daughter.

"Go home Gui and have a proper rest. This should be the last medication she needs, her fever has lasted over the past few days but she's stable."

"Thank you Dr. Baizhu, I'll get going now. Let me just grab my belongings."

Gui stands from the small stool and ambles around the room quietly to not wake the patient. Baizhu stands at the bedside and pours the medication into an infuser.

A low fire begins to burn as the medication is properly prepared. Soon enough, Gui leaves the room as Baizhu brings the cup to the girl's lips for her to drink. It goes down smoothly and Baizhu turns to retrieve any supplements to aid her when-

"Dr. Baizhu, there's an emergency!"

Gui bangs the door open with a troubled look as the girl stirs and her father wakes up with a start. Baizhu smiles at the father as he takes long strides towards Gui.

Gui wouldn't react this strongly unless there's a real emergency. Baizhu has worked with him long enough to tell when something is out of Gui's expertise or life threatening. 

"I'll need to step out for a while to deal with this. Please keep watching Yiran, I can assure you that she's past any dangerous stages Mr. Kuan."

Kuan nods his head sleepily and stays in his seat as Baizhu walks out the room. The door closes and Baizhu follows Gui as he asks "What's the situation?"

Gui speaks as fast as he can while walking toward the pharmacy entrance. "Qiqi was missing most of the night, which isn't abnormal, but she's at the front desk crying inconsolable while carrying a person on her back. They're bleeding out heavily and I saw multiple cuts, bruises and arrows in their body."

"I'm sorry to ask this from you but please prepare the treatment room. Once you do so, I can take care of them as Qiqi runs the front. If anything, I'll close the front until the patient is stable."

Gui nods before turning back as Baizhu steps into the threshold of the front. His eyes scan the room and quickly spot Qiqi and the patient she's holding.

Qiqi stands frozen in place as she grips you on her back. Tears roll down her cheeks without stopping, a stark contrast to her blank expression. Baizhu walks closer and kneels down to her level as his eyes dart over your unconscious body.

"Qiqi, I need you to follow me while carrying them. Can you do that?"

"Dr. Bai… Dr. Bai, they need herbs. Dr. Bai, Dr. Bai…"

Qiqi stares past him as if she doesn't register his words. Baizhu recognized the name 'Dr. Bai' easily as her name for him when she was still learning to remember.

Changsheng lifts her head as she hisses in a cooing way. "Qiqi, you want to save them, correct? We have the herbs but you need to bring this patient to the treatment room."

Baizhu reaches toward the zombie child and carefully wipes away her tears. “There’s no need to worry Qiqi, just do as Changsheng says. Remember I love you most.” 

Qiqi nods but she doesn’t stop crying much to Baizhu’s surprise. Deciding to leave that for another time, he slowly walks to the treatment room passing by an exhausted Gui who sends a worried glance at you. 

“Don’t worry about it Gui, injured patients aren’t the most frequent but I have plenty of experience caring for them. Just go home and rest.” With a sigh, Gui leaves as Qiqi stands next to the clean bed. 

You’re quickly transferred to the bed and positioned to lay on your side for a proper inspection. “You should stay outside. Qiqi. I’ll let you see them when I’m done.” Not looking back, Baizhu changes his gloves before gingerly touching the bloody wounds. Bits and pieces of scrap can be felt inside the injuries under his fingers making him frown.

“There’s quite a range of injuries on them. Not counting the bruising and cuts, there are some deep stab wounds.” Changsheng comments from her perch as she stares down at the zombie.

“Their calves have been pierced too, it’s cold to the touch with elemental traces. Someone used a cryo vision on them. Their back isn’t straight and their breathing is harsh, I’m suspecting some broken bones. They must be identified soon so I can heal them.”

As he pulls his hands away, a small metal arrow tip falls out onto the floor. “That one has hydro elemental energy, different then the cryo one earlier. Two assailants means double the bleeding.”

“Baizhu! That can be dealt with afterwards, look at their head!” Changsheng’s sudden hiss pulls Baizhu’s attention to the area in question. The pillow your head is laying has begun to be stained red as a puddle forms. Blood dribbles out of your cracked lips as your breathing becomes strained.

Dendro glows at the tips of Baizhu’s fingertips as he carefully trails his fingers across the wounds. “Changsheng, they don’t have much time left. Their qi is perfectly balanced so I’ll only need to transfer some lifeforce. That head injury is the most pressing injury but I’ll spare some power to temporarily block the bleeding.”

The puncture wounds shine a soft green and the blood on your loose, shoddy bandages slow down. A pained gasp breaks free from your lips at the accident brush against your cracked spine.

Baizhu and Changsheng both peer down at your head, your matted hair knotting from the blood makes him grimace. “Their skull met with great impact but it’s not fatal.”

“Not yet, at least.”

“This mask needs to be removed for proper circulation and examination. More injuries may be hiding beneath it.” Baizhu speaks absentmindedly as he changes gloves and begins to reach toward the bloody mask on your face.

Your eyes snap open, making Baizhu freeze in surprise until you push him with enough force causing him to stumble. Changsheng hisses in retaliation as Baizhu steadies himself.

You stumble off the bed with a sway as blood rolls down your forehead. With glossy eyes and cracked lips you speak slowly. "Don't… touch it…"

Baizhu and Changsheng share a worried look at each other before focusing on you. Taking a step closer, Baizhu raises his empty hands in an act to calm you.

"Now, now, I'm just trying to help you. That mask is obstructing my care and can cause a serious problem."

"I… said… NO TOUCHING!" Your arm flails to the side, knocking over objects and causing a loud crash. 

An animalistic yell rises out of your hoarse throat while your limbs swing around in agitation. Baizhu keeps a safe distance away as he watches you.

"This enraged fool will be the cause of their own death!" Changsheng yells over the sounds of vials and glasses crashing.

Baizhu doesn't respond as he stares at you, your every movement is carefully noted under watchful yellow eyes. 

Your pupils blown wide, trembling body, and strange movements weren't lining up with a simple blood loss excuse.

A small hand tugs his pant leg as your rampage slows to an end. Baizhu looks down at the red rimmed pink eyes of the zombie child.

"What is it, Qiqi? Do you have something that can help them?"

Changsheng keeps a watchful eye on your exhausted body as your endless mumbles of refusal continue. Your bag in Qiqi's hands is handed over to Baizhu without a word.

"Is this theirs?" A single nod before she steps away to stare at you with a seemingly worried frown.

Baizhu opens the bag to find it completely empty. Not a single speck of dust or dirt can be seen in it unlike your dirty, ripped clothes. But before he closes it, he spots a tag on the inside of it.

'Property of Y/N L/N'

With that new information, he sets the bag down on a farther table and looks back to you. You stand trembling next to the bed as pieces of broken objects litter the ground. With slumped shoulders and eyes threatening to roll back, your voice cracks with every mumble.

"Don't take it off. Can't take it off.. Won't let you take it off…"

"Y/N? Is that your name?"

No reaction comes from you. He tries again. "Y/N, can you hear me? Can you understand me?"

Again nothing, not a twitch, not a flinch or even a slow in your mumbles. With a tired sigh Baizhu makes up his mind.

"Changsheng we have no other choice, I'll knock them out so be prepared to share my life force with them during the struggle."

"No."

Baizhu looks down at the snake in slight surprise, Changsheng speaks in a wary voice.

"For whatever reason, Teyvat is reaching out to me in warning. Don't take off the mask, keep it on and heal what you can."

Baizhu spares one more glance before sighing. "If that's really what you believe then we will do things your way. Perhaps Y/N's body is stuck in a fear response and may actually kill me."

Baizhu carefully steps past the shards and approaches you with a gentle smile. "Qiqi clean up the mess, lest our patient injure themselves on it. As for you Y/N, you can relax. I will not take off your mask, you are safe here."

Immediately your eyes roll back and you collapse to the ground. Baizhu was swift enough to catch you before any injury but your reaction was enough to cause him grief.

"Qiqi, as soon as you are done, manage the front for me. This will take a long while."

-----------------------

Change was something you grew used to during your childhood. You changed schools, caretakers, friends and homes long enough to know the process by heart.

Adapting was another thing you were good at. Shady houses with out of control classmates and unending fights meant that it was a dangerous place. That you had to stay low and be on edge constantly. Everything you owned had to fit in your locked bag or else you would find it missing the next morning.

It was a bit easier in the city where most were working class. Making friends would be too much trouble and fairly fruitless. You were content to stay invisible and deal with any problems outside of public view. Some students just didn't know how to describe you, some were too fearful of what they accidentally saw to say anything about you.

The most and least stressful was the rare times you ended up with a rich family. On one hand every student knew you as an orphan but at the same time, rich kids loved to feel like heroes. All you had to do was play the weak and kind student. Nearly every student flocked to be your guardian angel as you showered them with compliments.

You never lacked lies and stories to tell but you also never stayed in one spot for longer than a few months. Each time Mr. Castio got more and more fed up with you. From a stoic disappointment to a quiet rage filled with belittlement. 

It was at 12 years old that you got fostered by your third wealthy family. They already had children, a daughter your age and a son who was barely three. You already knew that you would be their designated babysitter.

After a month of living there, you began to truly enjoy it. There was no mistreatment, obvious favoritism, a nice allowance, and even your own room. Even though you held no love for them, you followed your foster parents requests with no trouble.

Cleaning, babysitting, organization, yard work, sewing and more spontaneous jobs. Not only did they give you a bonus for the work, they also let you buy stuff with it when you asked. 

You didn't need to be constantly catered to like their daughter, you were just happy to sleep without fear of getting robbed, an empty stomach or bruised skin.

After a while you began to realize just how much you depended on them. It worried you, you agonized endlessly about getting attached and abandoned. You worked harder at school, gave in to their request full of smiles and got along with their children swimmingly.

The longer you stayed and obeyed, the larger the possibility of them adopting you or at least fostering you till adulthood became. 

But, you really should have known better. You’ve gone through it so many times, yet it seemed you still didn’t learn your lesson on who you can trust. The only person who truly had your back was always going to be yourself.

A normal day, a nice lunch and a polite request to do the dishes, something you were happy to oblige in. The sponge absorbed the soap and water letting you wash the dishes with ease. The chore is second nature to you.

 Their daughter was out of the house, probably hanging out at a friend's house. Their son was with them in the dining room as their chatter reached your ears clearly.

“I’m so glad we got lucky to foster such a kind child.”

“As am I. They work hard, get along well with everyone, and help us around the house without complaint.”

Their praise was something you were still struggling to get used to. But it made you happy nonetheless. You couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that it was an exaggeration or a lie no matter how many times you chided yourself.

“That’s true, I never expected a kid with that upbringing could be so smart.”

“What child wouldn’t do well with us taking care of them? They struggled a bit at first but they seem to realize what a good deed we did with fostering one of their kind.”

The water running down your fingers felt colder, almost like ice was traveling through your veins. Was that really what they said? Did you hear them correctly? You held onto some semblance of hope that they weren’t speaking about you like that. But the longer you listened, the smaller your hopes shrunk as your doubts grew.

They spoke about you as if you were a pet. Due to what? Being an orphan? The class difference? Your race? Your gender? Or was it just you? All their past compliments and words that seemed innocent are thrust into a new light. One full of demeaning words hiding as kindness.

The dishes in your hands become like dynamite. Just one drop and it’ll set off a whole chain of events where you can tell them off. To scream insults and obscenities from feeling tricked. Yell at them exactly how you feel, how angry it made you to be spoken as if less than human. As if less than them. 

Instead, you set the clean dish onto the drying rack. A deep breath is taken and then two more. Impartial rationality is focused on as your wounded heart is shoved away.

You have a good home, you aren’t being abused. Taken advantage of? Yes, but you get paid for it. This isn’t a family, it’s a job. It’s the best foster family you’ve had by far. They were wealthy and if you played your cards right, you could graduate from this upper class school and get a good job. 

It’s a good deal. It’s the best deal someone like you will ever get. You should be grateful, you don’t need their affection, love or attention. You just need to survive long enough to support yourself. You shouldn’t ruin a good thing.

Those words play on repeat as the last dish is set on the drying rack. The sink is turned off before you grip the counter tightly. Water is drained down the sink as you tell yourself that you’re just angry. Your blurry vision is just from anger, you remind yourself over and over again.

--------------------

A strong stench of iron permeated the room as skilled hands continued to work on your body. Blood splatters stained Baizhu’s clothes, sweat on his temple as he carefully traced the wounds with Dendro glowing on the tips of his fingers. Life force was continuously given to you as Changsheng stabilized Baizhu’s weakening body.

With the most pressing injuries taken care of, Baizhu examined your bloodstained back. The broken and fractured bones there were the next in line to be treated. Grabbing a pair of scissors from the bedside, he raised them to the midline of your clothes.

“The blood is keeping the clothes stuck to their body. We don’t have time to pull the clothes off carefully.” The small mumbles left Baizhu as he concentrated on not accidentally nicking your skin. 

Once done, he set the scissors aside and pulled the remains of your clothes off. A clean wet cloth is gently used to clean the blood off as your skin becomes visible. Simultaneous gasps leave the contracted pair as the cloth is dropped.

“Those scars! Baizhu, this isn’t a mere coincidence anymore. This person is much too similar to The Creator. Those scars are exactly as described in the scriptures.” Changsheng’s frantic hissing doesn’t reach Baizhu as he stares sternly at the marks in question.

His lips part hesitantly as his eyes never leave your body. “We should leave it be….”

“And what reason may that be?” Baizhu reaches an ungloved hand to thumb the old and faded scars as chills run down his spine.

“While it may be true that they are suspiciously similar to the Creator, there is more to this situation. The most widespread theory on why their blood is gold is that their blood is supplied with pure elemental energy and oxygen unlike everyone else that simply wields elemental energy. Even inhuman beings don’t have elemental energy coursing through their veins.”

Baizhu focuses his attention back on your bones as Dendro is summoned by his vision again. Changsheng rests herself with a tense posture as she waits for Baizhu to continue.

“Y/N is bleeding red and naturally absorbs my Dendro seamlessly. Furthermore, the scars on them have a strange aura on them.” Changsheng gives a look to Baizhu silently conveying her theory.

He shakes his head in response and clarifies. “It’s not god remains, but it’s similar. If god remains are like a natural poison and plague on a body, then this aura is the cure. The best way to describe this is that they are god cores. I believe it’s connected to the reason their qi is perfectly balanced despite the situation.”

Changsheng settles down at Baizhu's words as she watches him continue to care for you. Your breathing hitches as your bones are healed and snapped back into place. A low wail is all that can leave your throat.

“So Y/N is something in the middle? Will you really care for them even if it means taking care of a potential imposter?”

A heavy silence follows the question as Baizhu’s natural smile softens. The medical supplies that were used during all these hours litter the room in a mess. His gold eyes stare down at your pale, trembling body. 

“Yes, I will. They are still a patient that was brought to me. If they truly are an imposter then the Millelith can deal with them after they’ve healed properly here.”

Baizhu cleans his hands and changes gloves once again as he examines the remaining wounds on your body. Smiling down at Changsheng, he speaks smoothly “Shall we begin the final stage of their treatment?” 

-----------------------

Middle school reaches its end and the summer before high school came. You had passed with a high grade from your many long nights spent awake. Long days spent babysitting their son while upkeeping the chores while their daughter played leisurely. 

You felt proud of yourself to pass with those grades while dealing with them. As the months went by, your foster parents felt less and less of the need to treat you the same as their children. At the end of the day, they still paid you so everything was fine.

Summer was reaching its end and you were creating a list of items you would need for the new school. Halfway through, a soft knock on your door broke your focus. Your foster parents stepped in and asked you to join them in the living room.

Swallowing down your nerves, you nodded and followed them. Were they planning on giving you up? So close to the new school year?

The moment you sat down, they dropped the metaphorical bomb. "We want you to stay back this year and go to high school next year instead."

That wasn't so bad right? You just need to wait another year to start high school. It's not like you could be thrown out at 18 with no high school diploma, left to fend for yourself after giving up a year of school for them.

It's safe to say that you reacted badly to the news. Every 'Why?' was given a half hearted answer that changed constantly, and when you put your foot down and said no, something about them shifted, as if a curtain had been lifted or a coin had been flipped.

The once kind and gentle gleam in their eyes dulled into something akin to annoyance. As if you were doused with cold water, the atmosphere became tense and you just knew that you messed up. You, who had been so careful to stay on good terms and always abide by their request, was looked upon with coldness. 

“A child like you should not be giving us this disrespectful attitude.”

“We’ve clothed you, fed you, provided everything in that room. And it’s now with this single request that you’re rejecting us this harshly?”

The lecture goes on and on. Told how grateful, how sorry, how happy you should be. Cruelty laced every word has their arrogant figures towered over you. There was no chance for you to speak up, the helplessness you felt only pushed you down further.

At the end you were sent to your room with the date of your ‘fostering’ decided. The suitcase you took out and began to neatly fill felt foreign. You truly believed that you would be staying here until your 18th birthday. With the room bare and your eyes puffy, you tried to sleep.

Thoughts of what you should have done came to you in waves. You should have just accepted it. Even if only as a facade and found some way to prevent them from alerting the school in time. You wouldn’t have lost anything, if only you weren’t so stupid.

Tears spring up and it’s wiped away harshly as more replace it. Bitten lips begin to bleed as you hold back any embarrassing sobs that crawl up your throat. It’s only as footsteps are heard outside your room that you freeze.

Eyes wide you listen to the conversation as the sadness turns to bitterness. The bitterness wraps around your heart and squeezes as you learn the truth behind the matter. Their precious daughter had failed her grade and they just couldn’t let their child be upstaged. 

Teeth grinding, you sit up from your bed and begin to dig through the stash of objects you’ve found throughout your time in this household. A plan forms in your mind that all depends on what opportunity is given to you.

Your ex-foster parents announced a dinner to be held at a fancy restaurant and dropped the responsibility of watching over their son on you. Their daughter cheers happily at the sound of her favorite restaurant being chosen as you go to your room. Curled up in the bed, you try to ignore the stabbing pain in your heart.

The door slowly opens as the house goes quiet, their son toddlers to your bed with wide worried eyes. Chubby fingers pat your cheek softly “Are you okay? You sad?” The broken sentences are cute as he stares at you sadly.

Sitting up, you pet his head and smile at him. Your eyes are a strange swirl of emotions as you reassure him of your well being. The next sentence is a familiar one, just with different intentions than all the times you’ve asked before.

“Do you wanna play a game of hide and seek?” The smile on his face is so bright that you almost feel bad for your actions. 

Mr. Castio picks you up the next day, your ex-foster family waves goodbye to you as you enter the car. Their son cries and begs his parents to stop you as they soothe him calmly. Their daughter is the first to leave as you close the car door.

“How could you fuck up such a good deal?” The harsh words are spoken easily now that privacy is ensured. Wrinkles are as clear as his scowl as he drives away and out of the neighborhood. 

“I got you to be fostered in a family like this, and you couldn’t just go along with what they asked? I never had much expectations for you, but did the amnesia take away your brain too? Actually, you were probably born this way.”

Curling your knees into your chest, you try to ignore his demeaning words. Round two of being treated like a worthless child began as you endured the long car ride. The more he spoke, the more you shook.

“-really. Making my life harder than it has to be. All because you couldn’t shut your damn trap. Is your useless pride worth more then-”

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up instead?!” That was all it took for the loud argument between you both to begin. You had already tried to play nice with one set of arrogant adults, why should you deal with another?

A pained smirk crawled onto your face as you cursed Mr. Castio out who didn’t hesitate to dish it back. Whether it was being nice and submissive or being rude and blunt, both had the same outcomes.

You sincerely hoped that your ex-foster family would enjoy the gifts you left for them to find. 

The drugs you had placed in the nightstand for the strict and uptight breadwinner to find. The photographs of the breadwinners affair you printed and left for the house spouse to find in the cupboard. And finally the positive pregnancy test you set in the liquor cabinet that they never failed to open at dinner time.

By all means, their ‘perfect’ family should fall apart, it was just a shame you couldn’t see the fall out yourself… It didn’t stop the unease and slight guilt you felt for their son who had truly done nothing to you. It’s not like your actions would have too much of an effect on him right? You, you weren’t wrong.

Right?

At the lack of insults, Mr. Castio stopped his verbal abuse. Deep in thought, you stared out the window as the scenery passed by. Where you would go next was not known but it was all right. You would find a way to survive, you always did. 

You had to.

-------------------------

Calloused hands smoothened the blanket on your semi-healed body as Baizhu ignored the exhaustion setting in. The sun was high in the sky as the afternoon lull began to set in. Qiqi opened the door slowly as she peeked in, her eyes trained on your bandaged form.

“Dr. Baizhu, is it done?” Her hesitant voice was answered with a smooth smile and a calm voice. “It is, but Y/N needs their rest. You’ve been tense since you brought them in at dawn, that’s not good for you. Go to the courtyard and practice your arithmetics.”

Qiqi gives a small nod before walking away. With a sigh, Baizhu cleans up the remaining mess from the long treatment. “You’re exhausted, Baizhu. Stop acting tough and get some rest.”

Changsheng’s snotty but caring tone is clear to Baizhu as he walks out of the treatment room. “I’ll instruct Qiqi to gather some more herbs once she’s done. Before I can rest, I’ll need to check up on the counter. Gui should have arrived an hour ago.”

Opening the door, Baizhu is greeted with the sight of Gui giving a farewell to the last customer. At the sight of the doctor, Gui perks up in interest. “How is that patient? Did they make it?”

“Thankfully they did, but they’ll need to stay here a few days for the more severe injuries. I believe their name is Y/N, so address them by that name until we can ask them ourselves..”

Gui nods in response as Baizhu looks through what herbs they still had to use. Different prescriptions come to mind as he filters what information he knows of Y/N. What could trigger an allergic reaction, what medicine could have been consumed beforehand? What prescription is affordable without having too many side effects?

Those thoughts consumed his mind as Qiqi returned and he mindlessly instructed her on what herbs to gather according to the prescription of his choosing. Gui leaves deeper into the pharmacy as Baizhu finishes and stores the medical file safely.

Did you have any means to pay the treatment or follow up prescriptions? Any family to contact for visiting and support? You wouldn’t be the first patient to have no one to rely on but Baizhu still couldn’t shake off the feeling of something more going on with you. 

It was quite perplexing that he, who took great care to focus on being the best physician and on his own contract, was so drawn in by you. With a tired sigh, Baizhu pushed up his glasses as Changsheng raised her head to look behind him.

A knock on the doorframe only urged him to turn around and look at the unexpected visitor. With weary and suspicious eyes Baizhu stared straight ahead, “Is there something I can help you with?”

Lips curled into an ambiguous smile and with a polished voice, the visitor replies.  “I hope so, do you happen to have a patient wearing a mask?”

This chapter was fun to write, what writer doesn't like giving a trunk ton of trauma on their protagonist? I get 18 years to configure to my liking, what did anyone expect? But as always you don't need to consider this your Y/N's backstory. In truth I won't have you think back to these memories much as you have moved on from that past. You have for a long time. This is just the 'canonical' explanation as quite a few of you seemed to like my version of Y/N. Which makes me very happy! My editor approved of this idea, and edited it quickly enough for me to pump it out. I deal with the heavy work and don't need to do the annoying work! Also feel free to ask if anything was confusing. One last thing, after I got rid of the spam/porn bots I saw that I reached 1k followers! That's pretty amazing but I'm not sure if a special should be done or not. And if so, what should I do?

Taglist: Check Masterlist for more details but everyone is welcome to join it!

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus

[forthevillains]

Ok so here’s my idea… came from a video where a man hires a “wife” and pretends to have a loving family in order to get a promotion from his boss. The “wife” decides to play along and even refuses to get paid for it. The man falls in love with her eventually cause she’s so kind to him.

So i was thinking… what if Wesker had to hire someone to be his significant other to attend a big event/party held by Umbrella? Then he fell in love with her? Imagine he was forced to participate but didn’t expect to meet his love in a boring party 😭

This sounds crazy and kinda cringe but this got me so excited lol

I wanted to write something like that for so long so I feel u! I added a few things to make it work in my head so I hope you don’t mind🫶 (I wrote this while being sick so if anything doesn’t make sense, I apologize)

It was a very important evening to all workers of Umbrella. Everyone was invited and well, the more known they were, the more important their presence would be. Everyone was allowed and not just that - they were expected to bring their other halves, significant others. Wesker wouldn’t care at first. He didn’t want to come anyway, he thought of it as a waste of time, so why should he care? Though when he tried to talk to Spencer, to convince him that he could use that time to work on the research instead, it was to no avail. All Spencer did was tell him to bring some girl too.

Wesker’s annoyance and anger got the best of him. If people thought of him as grumpy before, he’s become an absolute Satan now. Especially when he got to know that he’s to take a woman to the party. Why would he do that anyway? He doesn’t have one, he doesn’t need one, it all sounded so stupid. Is he supposed to find a girlfriend that quick only to dump her as soon as it’s over? No that would be even more stupid.

Wesker knew he had to appear eventually and if he was to do so, he needed someone to act as his partner. An act is all it has to be…

Suddenly an idea popped into his mind. A genius one to be exact. He never thought that he’d come to do something like that, but the opportunity like this could not be wasted. If he didn’t have a spouse, he would simply hire one. And who would be better for the job than someone he already knows? Someone who’s worked for him for a while undercover, someone who always gets the job done - you.

"What the fuck did you just say?!” You nearly choked on your coffee when Wesker informed you about the situation through the phone.

"Just one night, you’re going to act like a girlfriend of mine, be nice to whoever talks to you and at least pretend to have manners. That shouldn’t be a problem, right?” He explains once more, his lips curving into a wicked smile at your reaction. You two weren’t on best terms exactly, but he was willing to pay how much you asked and you were willing to do any filthy job for him. You worked perfectly fine, however only as partners at work.

"I’m an agent, Wesker, not some of your whor-“

"How much do you want, dear?“ he interrupted you. He knew you couldn’t say no to such an easy job. All you wanted was money and he was willing to deliver. So you agreed, though you knew he wouldn’t make it easy for you.

You two made the deal and of course, he wouldn’t let you drown in your own questions about the evening, so you were properly informed, even gifted what you were to wear.

For the whole evening you tried not to leave Wesker’s side. As if he’d let you anyway. You knew what Umbrella was and if you felt anything apart from disgust as you entered, hand in hand with the head researcher, it was curiosity. You were nervous, yet made sure to be observant. It was your first time in there, although you’ve been working with Wesker for a while.

It didn’t take much time for people to notice you, their gazes not leaving you for even a second as realization of who you’re there with hit them. Some of them whispered to each other, some just stared in a surprise. It’s not like anyone would expect Albert Wesker himself to be close to someone, especially in a romantic kind of way. He was a loner, someone who didn’t trust anybody apart from himself, who only talked to two people more than was necessary.

Soon you met a few other scientists and you could feel how Albert was tense as he held you, his arm around your waist, gripping onto you tightly whenever someone was talking to you. You looked at him each time he did that only to find out that he was paying you no other attention. Or so you thought.

It was only about time you let loose finding out that there was no catch as you might’ve thought at first. You’ve began to seek fun instead of possible threats. Though when you were ready to leave Albert’s side he only tightened his grip on you, stopping you immediately.

"What do you want now?” You raised an eyebrow.

"You’re staying here with me like a good loving girlfriend would,” Wesker immediately replied.

"Oh right… I should’ve expected that if you had a girlfriend you’d treat her like a dog.” Your words were harsh and inappropriate, but that was the way you are - honest whenever you could. And since no one could hear the two of you as you kept the distance, you said what was on your mind.

"How I would treat a woman is none of your concerns. You’re staying here.” What you didn’t know is that he wanted you by his side to avoid any unnecessary interaction with others. There were too many people that despised him and it wouldn’t be far from truth that he felt the same way towards them, if not even worse. He needed you, you were the most comfort he could have there even if you were just an agent who happened to work for him.

"Albert! I-I mean we have been looking for you.” It’s no surprise that William with his wife appeared, but it almost made you jump, which made them turn towards you. "And who is this?”

Wesker let you introduce yourself on your own, to make it more difficult for you, grinning at you the whole time. It was quite entertaining seeing you struggle with saying out loud that you’re his girlfriend. You surely needed a shot after that. And this time, he even let you go. Which was probably not the best idea. You didn’t get too drunk, but enough to be a little tipsy.

You roamed around like a lost puppy, telling yourself that you were looking for toilets, but deep inside you knew you just grew more curious knowing this place is free for you to explore without any restraints. However Albert never really let you out of his sight. His shades were very good at hiding his eyes so that no one knew he wasn’t listening to them at all, that he didn’t even look them in the eyes as he shook their hands. You were his girlfriend for the day and he would not risk anything knowing how much you loved to play games with him. Even though he loved it too…

When you disappeared in the hallway, he was right behind you, immediately pinning you to the nearest wall. "Where do you think you’re going, dearheart?”

You gasped at the impact and looked up at him. "I needed to pee,” you said.

Wesker looked you up and down, thinking whether to trust you or not. But no matter how hard he tried to do just that, his eyes got stuck on how beautiful the dress made you look, especially in the cleavage area.

"My eyes are up here, Wesker,” you frowned. You maybe couldn’t see his eyes but you sure felt his burning gaze on your skin and the way his head was tilted downwards also hinted where he was really looking.

"Really?” Now he looked into your eyes and you wished nothing more than to see his own in that moment. Drunk or not, you’d always appreciate Wesker when he wasn’t acting like a grumpy old man.

He leaned forward, his nose brushing against your cheek lightly, before he whispered "I apologize, my dear, I didn’t know.” His words sent shivers down your spine and you tried to make a step back, even though you were so close to the wall it almost hurt your back. That made him smirk.

Wesker was never a touchy person, but right now, after he had few glasses of wine himself, he couldn’t resist the way you looked, not only talking about how good you smelled. And you were all his, for this night at least. Before you got the chance to ask him what the hell is he doing, he gently kissed your cheek, his lips slowly moving towards your jaw. He found it adorable when you threw your head back to give him more access, sliding a hand to your lower back to support your trembling body.

"This wasn’t part of the deal,” you choked out, trying your best to not let out any sound of pleasure.

"I feel like this is what couples do, though. Don’t you think so too?” His mouth moved even lower, his tongue caressing your skin before he nibbled at your neck lightly, drawing another gasp out of you. He felt unprofessional, he was suddenly nothing but a man in need. How the hell did you taste so sweet?

He began to kiss your neck, too caught up in the moment, in how good you tasted. His teeth kept grazing your skin, over and over again, teasing you, leaving you scared whether he would sink them into your neck like a vampire or not. You didn’t even want to think about it, because if you did - you’d probably come to conclusion that you like it.

Though, instead of sinking his teeth into you, he sucked in your delicate skin, forcing a moan out of you. It flattered him, it really did. The way you squirmed in his arms, the way your heartbeat quickened, breath ragged and pupils dilated… He was too caught up in all that, he got carried away (or maybe he did it on purpose).

Suddenly an echo of steps could be heard and he was forced to pull away from you, as a few of his co-workers walked by, already giving the two of you disgusted looks. Wesker only nodded at them to get going before turning back to you.

"That was a mistake.” He spoke, breathless, one of his palms already on your cheek, gently caressing it. And it meant one thing - he didn’t mean the words. All of his actions sold him out. No matter what he’d say, it wouldn’t save him now. No matter how calm he acted.

You were a totally different case though, your head was dizzy and you couldn’t tell if what just happened was real or a dream. You felt like you were floating, but still, you nodded. "We should… get back,” you then muttered and tried to make a step forward, but your knees failed you and you almost fell to the ground. If it wasn’t for your boyfriend for the night who quickly caught you. "Sorry.” You only added. He couldn’t comprehend whether it was the alcohol or his doings that got you like that, but he somehow found it cute. But you could never know, he was too good at hiding his own feelings.

When you got back, it was all the same, except for a few details that you probably wouldn’t even be able to catch. Wesker’s hold on you was firm, yet gentle, his gaze kept drifting towards you as he scanned your body language to know if you’re alright. He was trying to see if the moment the two of you had did leave a mark on you only physically or also mentally. He wanted to know how you felt. But he wouldn’t dare ask, not in front of all these people. So he just waited for the end of the night. Only taking in how beautiful you looked, how well you talked your way out of all the questions even with alcohol in your system. He truly admired your talents, how well you worked with people. Though what he enjoyed the most was your warmth. Something he hasn’t felt for a while as he was a workaholic, with no time for lovers, not even affairs. He thought he didn’t need physical touch, but your body next to his felt perhaps too good.

Finally, it was over. You were able to say goodbyes to the very few people that dared approach you, before the two of you finally left the building, both glad it was finally over. The silence between you was uncomfortable, tense and even though you wanted to speak up, you were afraid of making it all just worse. You might’ve talked your way out of discussions about opinions on animal or human testing, but for sure you couldn’t find one good word in a conversation with the man beside you.

Only when you two entered the car, Wesker in driver’s seat and you in passenger seat, then he sighed in relief as it was just the two of you. And that alone made you speak up.

"Don’t say anything, whatever it is, I don’t wanna talk about it, I’m too done for that,” you say before he has the chance to say anything and for once he gives up, knowing that it must’ve been draining for you. Especially knowing that you hate special occasions and tight dresses. But you still did it, for him. And also for money, but that didn’t really seem that important to you as you’ve actually quite enjoyed his company (you wouldn’t admit it though).

Wesker started the car and let you be without any other words. He wanted to give you space after what happened and so he did. You were quick to fall asleep in your seat, making it easier for him to look at you without being seen at all. His eyes kept drifting towards your neck the most and it took all his self control not to grin at the hickeys. God did he want to do it again.

His first intentions were to bring you to your house and drop you off in there, but as you slept in the seat next to him, he changed his mind. You were going home with him whether you liked it or not. He paid you for the whole night anyway, so you couldn’t say a word against it even if you were awake.

If you were still asleep when he got home, he’d carefully take you in his arms and carry you all the way to his bed. You might wake up alone the next day, but you’d surely know who was the one to take care of you. And even though he wouldn’t dare admit any feelings towards you just yet, he’s surely going to be way more gentle with you from now on…