#i am so sorry this is so rambling and long but i love my OCs with my whole heart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chunghasweetie · 3 months

Note

Haiii i've never submitted a request so bare with me.

What do you think about a criminal jk who's been in prison for over a year (don't know what crime u can pick honestly) him and y/n are in a established relationship and she's been waiting all this time for him to get out. Anyway he comes home and yk.. i'm sure you can get the rest ;)

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐘 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x criminal!jjk

— summary | (sorry it took so long!🩷) jungkook’s been locked up for 4 years and he’s finally back to see you !

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, daddy kink, dirty talk, crying, fluff(?)

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | wrong in the right way — chris brown

It was his first night freed from his 4 year jail sentence. After having a buddy drop off his car on the way to her, he was finally there.

Locked up for assault and battery and countless other charges he was finally free and finally able to see his woman again.

His tatted, muscular body stood at her doorstep, “Fuck,” He exhaled, taking a drag from his cigarette.

He was anxious to see her after endless phone calls and letters for years. He surprised her a day early. He finally stopped thinking about it and knocked at her door.

“Coming!” She hurried down the stairs, not expecting any guests at that hour.

She was in her pajama outfit, hair lightly curled and her face bare beside some eye brightener.

She opened the door, and she had almost gone into shock.

She came to a full body pause, color practically draining from her face when she seen him. “J-Jungkook!”

Jungkook's eyes softened at the sight of her, seeing the tears. He stepped forward, grabbing her in a tight embrace.

“I missed you so fucking much Y/n.” He mumbled into her hair. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her close.

She sobbed, “You bastard! Why didn’t you let me know you got out early?! I would’ve picked you up, done my makeup better, took you to dinner—“ She rambled.

Jungkook pulled back, gazing down at her with a smirk.

“Because I wanted to surprise you, Y/n. And you look fucking perfect just like this.” He ran his hand through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Finally face to face with my queen.”

“Fucking come in.” She sniffed. “All standing here in my doorway.” She hurried him in.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the apartment.

It looked a lot different than what he had remembered. It was a lot more modern and a bit girly. But it still felt like home.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. He followed her to the living room, his eyes locked on her as she walked away from him. He couldn't help but grin.

He was finally home.

“Missed you so much” She sniffed. “I didn’t fucking plan anything— Shit. You gotta be hungry right? Are you cold?”

“Relax baby. I didn’t expect you to be completely ready tonight,” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him.

“But yes, I am fucking starving. Even thought I just wanna sit here and hold you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her scent.

“No baby— Gotta take care of you first. Probably want to eat good. Prison must’ve been so rough.” She pouted, babying him.

“Yeah, it was. But nothing's worse than being away from you, ma. You know that, right?” He pulled away from her, turning her around to face him.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against her soft skin. “I missed your smile, your laugh, your attitude. Everything Y/n.”

“I missed you more than you could imagine Jungkook.” Her lip quivered. “So much.”

“I know, ma. You always made sure I know. You were always the one person I could count on, even behind bars.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and gentle, but it held a depth of passion that only they could understood. “I love you.”

“I love you more. So much more.” She kissed him back, “I’ll cook for you. I’ll show you to our room— I fixed it up for you!”

She led him upstairs, rushing him due to her excitement. “Are you ready to see it?”

“I'm more than ready, ma. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. I've missed our bed, our room, all of it."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You look stunning, ma. You've never looked more beautiful to me."

Their room looked more homey and relaxing. She bought him a whole new closet full of clothes and shoes to his liking.

“I bought you some new ashtrays to put on your nightstand.” She told him. “There’s some lighters down there too.”

“You're spoiling me. And I’m more than grateful. I can already smell the smoke wafting through the air. You know me more than anyone." He grinned, running his hand over the new clothes.

"I love what you've done here, ma. You really outdid yourself for me and I couldn’t thank you more.” He added, thanking her once more.

“Anyrhing for you. I wanted you to come home and feel comfortable and relaxed.” She smiled.

“Now go shower, change, whatever you need to do to get all that prison time off your skin.” She laughed. “I’m gonna go downstairs and cook you some food that’ll knock you the hell out.”

Jungkook smiled, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. "You're the best, ma. I love you so fucking much." He whispered, giving her earlobe a gentle kiss before pulling away. "I'll be down in a few.”

“Take your time baby. Really.” She pecked his cheek, hesitant to leave him while she walked down to the kitchen.

Jungkook grabbed her hand before she could walk away, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"Thank you again baby— Seriously." He gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently.

She left him and headed back downstairs, prepping dinner for him.

“I’ll miss you!” She called out from the kitchen, blushing and giggling in excitement.

She couldn’t believe he was really out of prison.

For years she spent everyday fantasizing and day dreaming about him finally living at home again. For him to actually be here was ground breaking.

She had devoted herself to that man the entire time he’d been away. Her friends would try to encourage her to see other men to fill in the gaps of his absence but she absolutely refused.

She had many opportunities. She was a beautiful woman.

But no other man could ever compare to Jungkook.

She started preparing a quick yet savory meal for them to eat while he was showering.

She had prepped wonton soup for the actual night of his arrival but she had enough ingredients to make it for him tonight.

Jungkook was upstairs. He stripped down to his white tank, revealing his well-built, tattooed body.

He smirked at himself in the mirror, satisfied with how much he had grown during his time.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to his liking before stepping in.

After scrubbing and shaving after what felt like forever, Jungkook hummed to himself as he stepped out the shower, feeling refreshed and anew.

He dried himself up before wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the kitchen where his girl was. “Smells amazing baby, what is it?" He kissed her cheek, leaning on the counter.

“I made a homemade wonton soup with a side of rice.” She smiled, “You look clean. Someone’s already comfy back home.”

Jungkook chuckled, “With everything you’ve done, you made it easy.” He grinned as his stomach growled, looking down at himself.

“Go put some clothes on and dry your hair. You’re gonna get sick. I laid out clothes on the bed.” She instructed. “Use my hairdryer in the bathroom. Should be hung up in the bathroom.”

She took care of him and she tried his best to always pamper him. "Yes ma'am." He smiled, standing up and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll be right back, baby."

Jungkook went back to the bathroom and dried his hair then put on the clothes she laid out for him.

He took a look at himself in the mirror and smiled. He had been evaluating their home since he arrived, she had really good taste.

He walked back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent once more.

 Couldn’t get enough.

“So much better huh baby?” She hummed, lost in his embrace.

“Definitely, baby. You always make me better." Jungkook whispered in her ear before giving her a soft and lingering kiss.

He reached for the food she was cooking, but she stopped him. “No. I’ll serve you. Go sit down.”

“Body” He obliged, not able to help it but steal another kiss before sitting down to eat with her. "This smells amazing, love."

She served him his soup along with a cup of jasmine hot tea.

She placed his bowl and cup on his side of the table. She served herself after him, sitting across from him. “Let me know if you like it. Too hot, too cold, too spicy, too salty. Anything like that.”

Jungkook blew on his soup before taking a spoon full, burning his tongue a little bit but he didn't care.

He was just desperate for a home cooked meal.

"This is so fucking good, Y/n… like really fucking good." He glanced up at her, giving her a little smirk before taking another bite.

“I’m not just saying that either.” He munched, lost in the taste of his food.

She laughed, “Glad you’ like it.” She enjoyed her soup across from him.

Jungkook finished his soup, but didn't finish his whole bowl of rice.

He sat back and took a sip of his tea. "So how was your day today? Besides making me the best fucking soup I've ever had?"

“I just spent today prepping for you to get here. Cleaned all day.” She exhaled.

“Was the rice not cooked right? You didn’t finish.” She looked at him, concerned a bit at his action.

Jungkook shook his head. "The rice is fine, love. It's just not my favorite thing to eat."

He took another sip of his tea and reached under the table, squeezing her knee. "It’s all I ever ate when I was in there— not really my favorite at the moment."

“Oh my gosh!” Her eyes widened, “I wasn’t even thinking!”

“Baby you make rice with every meal. It’s like muscle memory for you.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You’re too cute to worry.”

“It’s my man’s first night home from prison. Of course your opinion matters to me.” She sighed.

Jungkook smiled at her and looked down at his empty bowl. He reached for her hand and glanced back up at her. "You don't have to care about anything when it comes to me. I’m amazed by everything you do.”

“Mm so sweet.” She blushed, “Go relax.” She seized their bowls, washing them in the sink.

Jungkook laughed, "I just want to make sure you're happy too. Wouldn’t want my baby like that in her own house" He stood, slowly making his way around the kitchen island.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and moved his lips to her neck, giving her a soft kiss. "Smell so good baby. Can’t get away from you.”

She blushed at the close proximity, continuing the dishes.

Jungkook pulled away from her neck, his eyes glancing over her face. He enjoyed seeing her blush more than he thought he did.

"What's going on in your head? You can tell me you know." He leaned against the counter, watching her intently.

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I’m just happy you’re here. More than happy I’m just— thankful.”

She started getting emotional, blinking back tears. “I just thought— I thought you’d have to stay longer.”

Jungkook walked towards her, his finger pushed her chin up, making her look at him.

"Don't cry on me now, damn baby. Making me feel guilty.” He wipes away a tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

“Sorry sorry” She apologized, fanning herself.

Jungkook smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, moving her to clear her teary eyes. "Don't apologize for showing your emotions to me. I love how much you care for me."

“You smell so good too.” She hummed against him. “Better than that nasty fresh out of prison smell.” She laughed.

Jungkook grins, sniffing himself to remind her of the smell she meant, his arms squeezing around her. "If you thought it smelled bad..."

He kisses her cheek, “Imagine when I wasn't this clean for four years.” He teased, laughing.

“Ewww.” She giggled, “I’m okay not thinking about that.”

Jungkook chuckles, pulling back to look at her, cupping her cheek and wiping away loose tears with his thumb. "You're so cute."

He was laughing again. "Y/n, I missed you... I really fucking missed you. I don’t care how many times I told you tonight.”

“I missed you too Jungkook— Writing and calling you definitely isn’t as good as having you here at home with me.” She admitted.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yeah, I know... I fucking hated the phone. But-" He takes her hand in his.

"Being here now, being able to show up in the morning and see you again and again will make up for it all." He flashes her a wide grin.

“Four years was such a long time.” She groaned, walking out from the kitchen and walking up to their bedroom.

Jungkook nods and follows her, watching her hips sway as his thoughts drift to more primal thoughts.

He felt bad for wanting to get straight to it. But she had been teasing him in those

"It was. But hey-" He says from behind her. He wraps arms around her mid-section. "I'm here now. Should we get to it? Break our bed in together?"

“Oh my gosh you’re so annoying” She smacks his arm, “Go put on a movie while I change. You’re gonna be scrolling for a minute. I’ll be back.”

Jungkook laughs and lets go, jumping onto the bed. He grabbed the remote off the nightstand, surfing through the different streaming services.

He hadn’t seen anything like this in quite some time, but he already knew what he was looking for. She was definitely wrong about him scrolling for a minute.

She changed into a pajama set, being sure to show off a bit by leaving some buttons undone.

She knew what was gonna go down tonight, she just wanted him to wait for it.

She made her way back to the bed, resting her body beside him closely. “What’re we watching?”

“Starting tonight we’re gonna watch every Marvel movie made since I got locked up.”

“Are you serious?” She groaned. “That’s an insane amount of movies.”

“But,” He pouted cutely. “Your baby has been locked up for sooo long.”

“I hate you.”

He wraps arms around her mid-section, resting his head on her waist. "You know you love me, ma... and I sure as fuck love you."

“I love you more” She laughed and pecked his lips, playing with his hair as they watched the first movie together.

Jungkook hums in contentment, closing his eyes and letting her play with his hair.

Throughout the movie, Jungkook couldn’t help but grow more and more desperate.

He was on edge for the past few months. In prison they called and wrote letters but recently her letters had been more

Seductive.

Letters that consisted wordy details of her burning desire and unstoppable urge to have him.

“One more? Please? Last time really.” He pleaded.

“Fine.” She pecked his lips.

A few minutes later.

“Please?”

“Okay.” She pecked his lips.

More minutes go by.

“One more? Last time really.”

“Ugh fine.” She groaned, pecking his lips once more.

“Fuck I can’t take it." He groans as she pecks his lips, unable to help but leaning in and making out with her as their movie plays in the background.

“Don’t know how you expected this to go when you look like this.” He mumbled against her lips, mouth getting messier. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Need to make love to you since you got locked up” Her kisses grew more demanding.

Jungkook flips them over, pinning her down onto the bed and kissing her harder in return. "I needed you to fuckin' kiss me that hard when I was locked up.”

His hips buck up against hers, grinding his hardened cock against her thighs. “Dreamt about this every fuckin’ night.”

“I know baby fuck— me too” She grunted.

Jungkook reaches over to unbutton her pajama pants, before sliding them down her legs slowly— trailing kisses down her thighs as he does. "Take 'em off, baby. I wanna see how fuckin' wet you are for me already."

“Wanted dick since you got locked up— Been wet since you got released.” She couldn’t help the bashful expression all over her.

Yeah?" Jungkook grins, slipping his fingers underneath her panties and teasingly spreading her lower lips, his fingers slipping and teasing over her clit. "And how wet are you actually baby?"

“Fuck” She could cum at the contact alone. “S-So wet.”

Jungkook snickers, slipping a finger deep inside of her and pumping it in and out slowly, moaning at the tight and hot feeling around his fingers. "Fuckin' wet and tight girl hm? Huh baby?"

“F-Feels good daddy” The sensual nickname slipped from her lips, making his ears ring at the sweet sensation of her voice.

Jungkook groans at that nickname, thrusting his finger in and out of her faster now. "Shiiit, baby, you know I love it when you call me that."

He then pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “Love the way you taste. Needed that for years.”

“C-Can’t take it” She whimpered at the feeling of his retracting fingers.

Maybe it had been too long for her. By herself it took a good amount of work for her to get off but this was ruining her in seconds.

Jungkook smirks at that, pulling his pants down, his already hard length flopping out. "You’re gonna take it good baby?”

“Daddy please—“

“Is that all you got?" Jungkook taunts, teasing her entrance with his tip. "Beg some more, or you ain't getting this dick."

His dominant and demanding voice was coming back into play, almost better than what she remembered.

“Want it so bad. I’ll take it good, I promise.” Her voice cried, “So desperate.”

Jungkook groans at her begging, slowly pushing inside her. "Mmm fuck— so damn tight, just like that baby.”

“Take Daddy's dick." Him fully entering into her in a slow, but deep pace.

Her chest rose as he slid inside her. She swallowed, adjusting herself to his length.

Jungkook smirks at her reaction, gripping her hips as he begins to thrust in faster, a low moan leaving his lips.

“Missed this wet ass pussy” He stared her down. “You miss that, baby? How Daddy fucks you like this?"

“Y-Yes”

“Fat ol’ ass and huge ass tits— And a pretty face. God, you're so fucking hot." Jungkook grunts, picking up the pace, thrusting harder and faster.

The sound of skin on skin filling the room, making sure to hit that sweet spot. "This what you wanted, huh baby?

“All I-I wanted— all I needed.” She whined out. “Fucking amazing.”

“I thought I was desperate." Jungkook growls, slapping her ass hard. “Such a pretty girl. Didn’t try to play me once.”

The room is filled with even louder wet slaps of his hips against her ass and his smacks. His thrusts becoming more erratic, his cock growing desperate for release.

“All for you, all yours. Been with no one but you.” She moaned, truthfully speaking.

"Good girl." Jungkook leans forward, nipping at her neck before whispering in her ear.

"Say my name, Y/n. Who's dick are you on?" He grips her throat.

“Fuck! Yours Daddy! Yours!” She was a mess on his cock, eyes rolling back.

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” He was watching as her body shudders from his touch.

He admired the way she was breaking down in front of him, going dumb on his dick.

The way her body twitched, he knew she was growing closer.

He watched her, clearly enjoying her lack of breath. The way she squirms, his to control and use.

"Gonna cum on daddy’s dick baby? Gonna let go for me?" He's almost there, wanting to finish strong.

“Want your cum— Need it.” She whimpered, eyes growing teary from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please daddy.”

“So fucking hard to say no to you." Jungkook snorts, pounding into her mercilessly. He was seeking his needed high so he could cum right with her.

The couple both reached their orgasms, moaning each other’s names before giving in and cumming together.

“Fuck— so in love with you.” Jungkook grunts, emptily filling her up. He catches his breath, panting with her.

She could hardly get out of the bed because of him, she was limp.

She was shuttering from her orgasm. Her legs were a trembling mess.

He watches her collect herself, loving the sight of her. The way she looks so used and satisfied, only at his hands.

Once she was all together, she got back in bed with him, kissing and chucking with him as the two panted together.

“I still got it.”

“Goddamnit Jungkook.” She hid her face. “Yes- you do.”

1K notes · View notes

dizzybizz · 9 months

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hai here is a sketch dump with too many fandoms :) sorry about the ungodly amount of men here i have been going through it and by it i mean gay

ok wait i ran out of tags??? it wont let me tag them all😭😭😭 im gonna have to be sparing with them uhh i guess i will have to ramble under the cut then cus i like rambling in my tags but i cant with this one 😭

(ok im back from the ramble: it is way too long.... proceed forward if you want to see some guy just absolutely talk nonsense for entirely too long)

no cus i swear i have tried tagging more stuff than this before and never hit the limit but whatever

hello i really use this like a fkn blog huh

i just wanted to provide some thoughts on the harper and rosé one first bc its important to me 😌 cus i was thinking abt harper and how in my head and heart of hearts she would be the kid who thought you get pregnant from kissing and i dont think she ever really grew out of that belief. <- this ended up spawning the idea of harper being a sex-repulsed ace and i will die on this hill actually. fight me or die, you die either way actually nvm

this is just a buncha blorbos i dont know what to tell you really. sketch pages like these always end up so weird for me bc for some reason my brain always wants the characters in them to interact in some way. whether that be talking or just reacting to what the other is doing... its something i cant stop with, its so stupid and silly and i hate it and i love it. where else would i see kabru slowly losing his mind with how loud phoenix wright is in court????

I THOUGHT I HAD GOTTEN OFF THE RAILS WITH THAT BUT THEN THE NEXT PAGE HAPPENED. and all i could do was laugh and ask "what the fuck am i drawing??? HOW DID WE GET HERE? WHY IS THISTLE HERE WITH LEOPIKA HELP" LIKE that page started with the big leopika and then i was like "man i miss thistle lemme draw him real quick" but the curse struck and now hes being homophobic so </3

i rlly like how the nic(k) page turned out ... i just have a lot of nicks i like drawing idk.. the lil guy is an oc,,, one day his ref sheet will be finished and itll be awesome but not for now, sorry baby, no can do. im weirdly happy with how the hands turned out for all of them tho?? so thats a W

yotasuke, murai, nick (youll never know which one im referring to. .. jkjk its hoult i love the pose there ehehhe), nic and the entire last page r my favs. i like em all but those rlly get me yknow- the olly too ofc but ive already posted him, dont mind him being here, hes part of the set. AND OVER ALL IVE BEEN HAVING SO FUN WITH SHADING BLACK AND JUST LEAVING SPOTS BLANK ITS SO ?`????

WHY IS THIS SO LONG PLS DONT READ ALL THIS THIS IS STRAIGHT UP EMBARRASSING AGHSDFGSDHJSGD im all like "yeah i dont like talking about myself or whatever" but as soon as i get to my process or blorbos or smth the floodgates fucking break open, not even burst man.

also dont mind how i havent even acknowledged pingas twink pokemon counterpart. hes just here for shits and giggles i dont know the guy like at all, i watched a handful of eps of horizons and that was it RIP

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kingofbodyrolls · 9 months

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BTS fic recs: December 2023

HAPPY NEW YEARS!! 🥳 May every single one of you lovely people out there have the best and brightest year to come ✨

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | 💜 (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐Good Neighbor @sugaurora [0.7K] // knj x f.reader // neighbors!au, winter!au // 🥰🥰🥰

📝 Namjoon’s solitary tendencies versus the cookies. Spoiler: The cookies win.

🗨️ God, this was so fucking sweet 🥹 like sugary sweet fluffy fantastic! I loved it 💖 the way Namjoon just observes oc, and then helping her in the end 👏🏾 even though this is short, it’s fucking brilliant. The writing is just 😘😘 like I wished there was so much more, but I’m also so pleased with just what is 😌

⭐A Word from our Sponsors 💯 @ugh-yoongi [17.5K] // knj x f.reader // podcast!au, f2l, idiots to lovers // 😂🥵🥰

📝 You’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it.

🗨️ Okay. This. Was. Exceptional ✨🥹 I am slightly speechless, so this review might be short or long or just a rambling of my dainty thoughts. Here goes: it was amazing, seriously one of the best fics I’ve ever read 😭 everything just had that perfect flow, the writing was incredible, like I can’t even speak? The characters, out of this world fantastic ✨ the whole thing, just, perfect. Perfection. I don’t know what else to call it, sorry. The world building and tension was so fucking delicious I just ate it up! 😭 And their banter and chemistry was just off the charts amazing. Perfection. And it was so fucking hilarious too!! Many times I was just laughing or chuckling, like the lovesick fool I am 😂 it was definitely worth it to stay up late tonight to finish this masterpiece ✨ And them reading the fanfiction 💀 😂 priceless ✨👏🏾

Seokjin

⭐The IKEA Test by @yoon-bug [9.1K] // ksj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰😂

📝 One review on IKEA’s website called the BRIMNES bed frame the leading cause of divorce due to its difficult assembly. You and Seokjin had laughed when you read it. Now, you weren’t so sure.

🗨️ Their banter and all the sexual innuendos are damn hilarious! I thoroughly enjoyed this very much 💜

⭐I Don’t Think I’m Okay by @ressjeon [4K] // ksj x f.reader // slice of life, idiots to lovers!au, childhood friends!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 With many chances wasted, you couldn’t even resist anymore.

🗨️ A cute little Seokjin fic 🥰

⭐Turn Back Time 💯 by @raplinesmoon [13.3K] // ksj x f.reader // time travel!au // 🥵🥰🌩️😂

📝 After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?

🗨️ Seokjin’s childhood/school was just, ugh, I really felt heartache for thirteen year old Seokjin 🥹 So very common as a kid, to wish you’re older – and then it’s just not what he expected at all. I really loved it! There were a few times I was laughing so damn hard, times where I was shedding a few tears as well. Just, incredibly good; very well written, the story was captivating and motivating, just yeah, brilliant. (Sorry, I’m suddenly bad with words). I loved the ‘lessons’ he learned, and then having the luxury (I’m using that word because we don’t have that irl) of going back to his childhood (almost like starting over) and damn it was good 👏💯

Yoongi

⭐Sinful Lust [series; ongoing] 💯 by @oddinary4bts [wordcount loading…] // myg x jjk x f.reader // established relationship, bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi, slice of life // 🥵🌩️

📝In an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating…

🗨️ Holy 😱 😱 😱 this is just completely unadulterated sin 🥵🫣 I can not describe how much I love this fic! It has A LOT of angst and at times it’s just sad reading how each character falls apart 😭 it’s amazing! If you’re into stories that will have you question your own morals and who to root for, this is for you 💖

⭐In Between the Pages of You [series; ongoing] @unique-high [wordcount loading…] // myg x f.reader // s2l // 🥰😂🌩️

📝 Yoongi fell in love with you. A girl he had never even met before. Knew everything that you were made up of within 96 pages of a worn red journal with a nirvana sticker on front, with coffee and tea-stained pages that also smelled of lilacs and summer.

🗨️ I can already tell that this story will be amazing; it’s so sweet, cute and tender. The storyline/idea is really cute and fluffy, like who wouldn’t love that?? 😭 And as someone who wrote countless journals as a teen, this one just hits differently. It’s so cute and the concept is gold 💜 I really, really look forward to reading the next chapters and what Yoongi will uncover of OC through her journal. And if he can return it to her sometime and they meet! 🥹

⭐F*ck Christmas 💯 @sailoryooons [23.4K] // myg x f.reader // f2l // 🥰🥵

📝 Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

🗨️ Gosh, I remember reading this sometime last year and it was perfection - it still is! ✨ It’s so so so fucking good. If you haven’t read it, please do so 🥹 it’s also one of the best Christmasy fics 💜

Hoseok

⭐Ho Ho Horrible 💯 @ugh-yoongi [5.6K] // jhs x f.reader // e2l, neighbor!au, holiday!au // 🥵🥰😂

📝 (or, the one where your neighbor is a relentless christmas caroler and refuses to take a hint, but at least he's really hot.)

🗨️ No– this was just so freaking cute! 😭 Like fluffy cute and also extremely funny, just what I love. I loved this so much 💜 OC’s friendship with Tae, their banter was 💯 and then with Hobi, just so so good! It was so cute and OC’s internal dialogue is just funny 😂A really cute holiday themed Hoseok fic that I can’t recommend enough!!!! Everything was just great. Had me smiling and giggling a few times – please go read it 🥹💜

⭐Started with a Sparkle, now we’re on Fire @the-boy-meets-evil [6.5K] // jhs x f.reader // f2l // 🥵

📝 You're feeling self conscious about your recent break-up and hoseok is more than happy to teach you a thing or two.

🗨️ Really really good! I really liked it 💜 I really loved how both sweet and demanding Hoseok was, guiding oc through everything.

Jimin

⭐Couchsurfer 💯 @heartbeatan [6K] // pjm x f.reader // s2l // 🥵🥰

📝 This was left intentionally blank 🫥

🗨️ Omg this was so fucking good! 💯 First, really well written and the pacing was lovely, even though it’s short and one night they spend together 🥹 the build up of their tension and their chemistry was off the charts! So impeccably done! Fuck. I loved it ✨ it’s insane how good this story is and Jimin is just so sweet, romantic and nasty 🥵 I can’t tell you how turned on I got by the description of how Jimin handled OC, like damn 🥵 this is so fucking good, please don’t sleep on the this beauty 💖 Normally, I’m not one for one night stands, because I catch feelings for the characters, but this has a lovely ending that I loved - so fucking good!

Lol. Can not stop screaming about this one. Please go read it, fuck. PLEASE 😌 ✨

⭐Paper Hearts @namfinessed [9K] // pjm x f.reader // f2l, college!au // 🥰

📝 hearts fragile like paper, tear it or don’t?

🗨️ I think it is both cute and heartwarming, with their foolishness and stubbornness towards each other. I loved how the fic becomes full circle with the description of love by both Jimin and reader and then again at the end - really, really beautiful! 😍 I really loved this, it was well written, their friendship and love really shined through too! If you haven’t read this one yet, you really should 💜

Taehyung

⭐The Wannabe-Photographer Chronicles [series] by @gimmethatagustd [14K] // kth x f.reader // frenemies to lovers // 🥵

📝 You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.

🗨️ At first I did not realize that this was a series, therefore I’ve linked to the masterlist, lol. Anyway, this series is just so fucking hot, like WHAT 🥵 There’s a lot of banter and their mutual ‘hatred’ for each other just makes this hit incredible hard. Really amazing ✨

⭐Loverboy 💯 by @kookslastbutton [7.1K] // kth x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 After a startling conversation with your coworkers, you start feeling insecure about your sexual prowess. You don't initiate as much, you haven't worn lingerie yet, and you're still timid about doing much seducing with your body–are you giving your boyfriend boring sex? Taehyung reassures you that you are perfect and have nothing to worry about.

🗨️ These coworkers gotta go, okay?! 😠🤣 Planting seeds of doubt in OC’s head, no, no. Tae to the rescue!! He is so sweet in this too, yes a real ‘loverboy’ 😍 Gosh and then best friend Jimin - that was just pure gold, their relationship and how he helps OC 🥹 That is friendship goals!! A sweet, loving and comforting Taehyung fic - I loved it ✨

⭐Hush, yeah? [series; ongoing/hiatus] by @kithtaehyung [wordcount loading…] // kth x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, music festival!au // 🥵

📝 Who knew an innocent accident could turn things so dirty..

🗨️ Pure gold ✨ — I don’t really have much to say, except GO READ IT.

⭐Under wraps by @jungkxook [15K] // kth x f.reader // e2l, fake dating // 🥵🥰

📝 There’s nothing you and taehyung seem to hate more than each other - except for christmas. having recently been dumped by your (now ex) boyfriend only seems to make this holiday even worse. but when taehyung suggests that you should pretend to be dating each other to save you both the embarrassment, pity, and bothersome questions from family and friends alike for a fun carefree month of celebrations, you can’t possibly say no.

🗨️ I just love me some good enemies to lovers AU 🥵 the relationship between OC and tae is really good, I think the tension between them was well built 👏🏾 I loved how their relationship unfolded and grew through their fake dating 🥹 the way OC realized she had feelings for him, but he had showed her before in his subtle moves, how much more he relaxed in her presence. I loved the interaction between oc and tae’s parents too, the way that they could obviously tell that OC was head over heels 😂 ah just, It was really really good! It was funny, it was comforting, and such a lovely read around Christmas! And the smut was sweet and tender (also hot!) 😍 a really great fic that I’ll add to my Christmas re-reads for years to come ✨ I loved it! Please go read it if you haven’t already 🥹

⭐Somebody Else 💯 by @jamaisjoons [4.2K] // kth x f.reader ft. yoongi // established relationship + post break up!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 Yoongi doesn’t want you anymore. but he can’t stand watching you with someone else.

🗨️ Holy s– 🥵 I don’t even know where to begin with this one! It’s really good and the that is mainly from Yoongi’s pov makes it truly special – he is observing them and damn is it hot 🥵 Aish, really good 💯

Jungkook

Nothing this month 😞 — I AM SO SORRY that I haven’t read any with JK this month (though he is featuring in some with the other members). My JK ‘to read’ list is the LONGEST imao 😂 I’ll hopefully do better next month – but you can always check my Jungkook Library 💜

I have spend most of December being on holiday/time off, which gave me a lot of time to write my own stuff, which in the end gave me less time to read 😣 But it’s all good! I loved getting some stories and thoughts out of my head and now there’s space to read and obsess over other’s stories again 😀

Borahae 💜

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ozzgin · 8 months

Note

I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”

#yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #daitou

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twstgarden · 6 months

Text

❀ ❝ 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗶 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲? ❞

━ malleus draconia x gn! reader (reader can be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ thoughts of the possibility of falling in love with your nightly visitor continue to disturb you even during the times you were supposed to focus on your quality time together.

no spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc!

do not steal or translate without my permission.

buy me a coffee here and ko-fi here if you want to support me, commissions are open

“modern architectures seemed to have adapted new designs for their gargoyles. why, i even came across one that resembles a human face. it is quite intriguing, really. i have grown accustomed to seeing gargoyles that usually take the form of different creatures of the night, so seeing that human-like gargoyle sparked some interest in me that i wish to show it to you,” rambled malleus before he frowned, “however, my so-called phone could no longer capture images. it breaks easily, it’s unfortunate.”

you sat as you replied with a soft hum, your chin resting on your hand as you looked up at him with a rather longing and lovestruck gaze. you were paying attention to his ramblings, truly, you were! it just so happened that you were looking at him with an infatuated gaze.

hearing only a hum from you, malleus turned his head to look at his companion. with a raised brow, he spoke, “hm? are you alright?”

his question snapped you out of your thoughts. a soft blush dusted over your cheeks as you felt embarrassed of having been caught staring, “oh, sorry. um… so, did you capture it with… maybe a regular camera?”

once more, there was a frown on his lips, “no, but i will make sure i get to capture its uniqueness and aesthetic the next time i come across that gargoyle.”

it was somewhere around midnight when you decided to accompany malleus in the backyard of the ramshackle dorm, and you spent the past 30 minutes listening to him talk about his findings during his strolls for his gargoyle research club activity.

you loved listening to him speak. his voice was deep and resonant, yet so dulcet and soothing. you would never get tired of listening to him all day. when he speaks with clear passion and excitement laced in his tone, he resembles a young kid who had just gotten some candy – so endearing and oh so innocent, but you had to remind yourself that this was no ordinary man. this was the crown prince of a nation, a man respected by many and feared by many more.

still, who gives a damn about titles when you can enjoy his presence for as long as you want? as long as the moon stays up in the sky and the sun has not risen, you can guarantee his presence in your dormitory.

were you falling in love?

what nonsense. of course not! who could afford to fall in love at a time like this? what you needed to focus on was your return to your world, not fall in love with a prince who may soon be betrothed to someone else.

oh, but that smile…

malleus smiled as he caught you staring once more, lost in your gaze. with a teasing chuckle, he spoke playfully, “am i so captivating that you can’t seem to tear your eyes away?”

what a beautiful smile.

that question alone made you look away immediately. was it too obvious? surely, he was only teasing you, but it was as if he hinted that he knew you might be falling for him. you laughed a little and replied, “i was spacing out! i wasn’t staring or anything…”

“spacing out, hm? does something trouble your mind?” asked malleus. the playful air seemed to have dissipated, replaced with an air of concern and care as soon as you told him you were spacing out.

“not at all,” you replied with a smile, “i was only imagining what that gargoyle with a human face would look like.”

are you falling in love?

again, with such questions! having the desire to spend more time with the man and looking forward to your nightly meetings does not equate to falling in love. you merely wanted his companionship. he was the only one visiting you late at night, keeping you entertained and listening to your troubles. he was more of a friend than anyone else in night raven college – ace and deuce are a category of their own.

there was never a single night he’d bail on you. not a single night had he let you be alone. it had become a tradition at this point for him to always be standing by your window once the clock struck 12. he never arrived empty-handed; there was always a thoughtful gift in tow or an engaging tale of adventures of the people he knew – mostly lilia’s adventures. other times, it would be a treasure trove of fascinating facts on random yet intriguing subjects. with him, each nightly meeting was an enchanting experience, always concluding with the bestowal of a meaningful gift, the creation of lasting memories, or the gain of fresh knowledge.

a knowledgeable and kind-hearted friend.

that’s how you’d always describe him. that’s what you’d always tell yourself. he was nothing more than a knowledgeable, kind-hearted friend. why must your admiration of his character equate to romantic feelings? even friends can find one person cool and not wish to have romantic relationships with them.

oh, but you love holding his hand…

it was another night in night raven college, another night spent with your midnight visitor. he was discussing certain gemstones that he had in his collection – his hoard, a term better suited for his kind. the discussion seemed normal at first glance until he looked at your left hand and held his right hand out for you to hold after taking off his glove.

“may i?”

curiosity washed over your senses as you tilted your head but placed your left hand on top of his anyway. his gentle caress on your knuckles sent shivers down your spine, his hands felt so smooth and oh so gentle, yet you knew of the underlying strength that was concealed within his lovely hands. the same hand that finds ease in cracking a coconut open gently held your own – as if he was afraid of accidentally hurting you.

as his thumb tenderly brushed against your bare ring finger, he spoke, “a beautiful golden ring would best adorn your hand, perhaps one embedded with your birthstone, don’t you think?”

this was merely a casual conversation between friends – a topic of discussion relating to gemstones turned into rings. this is normal, is it not? you hummed in reply as he continued to hold your hand, “a golden ring embedded with my birthstone? that sounds lovely.” a soft laugh then left your lips, “i could not afford to buy one, however.”

hoping he would comprehend your attempt at making a poor joke, you looked at him with a smile. he let out a soft chuckle, leading you to believe he was amused by your jest until his response completely caught you off-guard.

“why buy one when i can have one custom-made for you?”

your smile dropped as your expression turned into shock.

“pardon?”

that night was memorable, and certainly had its surprising elements compared to your other nightly meetings. you thought he was joking about getting a custom-made ring for you, but he had given so many hints and statements that he was completely serious – he even took your ring size. you did not stop him. perhaps it was just another one of his many, many gifts that he had bestowed upon you.

your vague knowledge of fae tradition made you recall a hint of a connection between faes and the art of gift-giving – that exchanging of gifts was an intrinsic part of their nature. you were entirely unaware of the customs and traditions surrounding gifts in briar valley, but surely, gift-giving is a way to show how much one appreciates an important acquaintance, is it not?

after that meeting, you started to realise the growing number of attempts on him holding your hand – whether you’re walking side by side or sitting together on the bench – he would always attempt to interlock his hand with yours in a way that seems respectful. his hand would gently brush against your own while he was talking, giving a hint that he wishes to hold your hand but would rather have your consent first.

you did not hesitate. you smiled and continued listening to his words as you interlocked your fingers together, gently squeezing his hand as he had not worn his gloves like usual. there was a brief moment of his eyes lighting up and his smile growing wider once he felt your hand on his, but then reverted to his usual expression as he continued to share stories with you.

your nightly meetings had extended to daylight hours. you were no longer confined in the moon’s appearance in the sky to determine how long you’d spend your time with him. you did not mind being seen by everyone else in the academy hanging out with the hotshot dormitory leader of diasomnia – who cares about them?

as long as malleus continued to spend his time with you, you’d spend your time with him. your blooming connection had soon become known to everyone else, and those from his dormitory were more than happy to finally see their dorm leader making friends. well, lilia was the proudest, but sebek still has his suspicions.

it has been a long while now since you have established a connection with the lonely crown prince. his companionship was all you could find on all the times you yearned for someone to hang out with. things were going smoothly, and your relationship with malleus kept blossoming every day.

have you fallen in love?

that question now haunted you once more.

have you fallen in love?

you shook your head as you sighed, trying to think of something else as you sat on diasomnia’s comfortable couch. their lounge was spacious – able to fit more than 20 students at the same time, but you’d rather not stay in the lounge if it gets crowded. the leather couches of their lounge were certainly of high quality as once you took a seat, you felt yourself sinking into the soft depths of the sofa.

malleus was sipping on his tea while the other three kept conversing about their recent school activities. upon hearing your sigh, malleus glanced at you and placed his teacup down, “are you feeling tired?” you shook your head in response, “no, no… not at all…”

have you fallen in love?

perhaps you did. your eyes stayed on malleus for a while as you thought of all the reasons you were drawn to him. malleus had a regal and powerful aura, everyone knew that, but there was also a hint of innocence and loneliness behind that powerful mask of his. you were one of the few people who have witnessed the real side of malleus draconia, while everyone else only knew him as a powerful fae prince.

malleus had the most beautiful set of green eyes – striking and sharp, yet so ethereal and comforting. his eyes showed all the feelings his facial expressions could not, and when it twinkles at the sight or mention of things, he is particularly fond of, you feel a sense of peace within you – as if you felt happy seeing him happy.

for so long have you denied your thoughts and dismissed them as merely friendly observations. you thought he was beautiful, and it should be normal to find someone beautiful, no? you think vil is a beautiful man, but that does not mean you are in love with him, so what makes malleus any different?

but that’s the thing.

malleus draconia’s allure was a level of their own.

his beauty was not like vil’s elegant charm or neige’s endearing appeal. malleus embodies a beauty of ethereal quality – to you, he is a man of enchanting grace and elegance, shrouded in mystery and often veiled in reserve.

have you fallen in love?

after pondering on your inner thoughts, you can proudly answer this question with confidence.

yes, you were.

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mint-yooxgi · 9 months

Text

Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 7,327

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist

An annoyed sigh leaves his lips at the incessant chatter he hears around him. Low whispers rise in volume until the dull buzz of voices consumes him, interrupting his post meal relaxation. Irritation mars his features, his brow tugging downwards as he pulls the broken sliver of bone he had been using to pick at his teeth with out of his mouth.

“What is with your incessant whining?”

All Mingi had wanted to do was relax after dinner. In peace, within the confines of his makeshift encampment at the heart of his battalion, but it seems there’s been a commotion at the far edge.

“Humans, General.” One of his underlings, a vice-captain under his command, Darius, hisses. “They say they want to make a deal.”

Mingi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Not too bright, are they?”

“When have humans ever been known to be smart?” Darius snickers.

Mingi heaves a long sigh, standing to his feet. “Given the length of this interaction, I can’t trust any of you to be competent enough to end this quickly.”

“They’re persistent, General.” He replies, flinching back as Mingi turns his sharp-eyed gaze to him.

“You let them think their words had any merit of importance to us.” The redcap general snaps. “No wonder they’re being so uncooperative.”

Striding through the encampment, the whispers finally come to a halt. A dead silence surrounds his soldiers as Mingi strolls through their ranks, eyes zeroing in on the small gathering of frail humans. Darius rushes along behind the proud general, whom stands a good eight feet tall. The tallest amongst his redcap companions.

A red sash is tied around Mingi’s bicep, alerting all to his rank within the gathered redcaps. There is a clear air of respect the others hold for him as he walks passed, holding his head high, no falter in his steps. Some even go so far as to look upon him in awe while others incline their head out of respect.

Reaching the edges of his encampment, Mingi scowls. “What’s the big idea here?”

“Ah, General!” Lias turns to him, a malicious grin tugging at the younger captain’s lips. “These humans insist on making a trade with us.”

“How did they even find us in the first place?” Mingi darts his gaze over to the three standing before him, just over the threshold of their protection line.

A woman seems to be holding another in her arms. The one with her head down doesn’t say much, but the one holding her trembles as she meets Mingi’s gaze. The male, slightly taller than the woman being held, stands a little straighter.

“We know mushroom rings will bring us where we want to be, or rather, to whom.” He replies, almost defiantly. “You just so happened to be the closest in the area.”

“Why are you wasting our time?” Mingi growls, teeth bared over much too sharp fangs.

“Please,” the woman holding the other in her arms seems desperate as she attempts to take a step forward.

That’s when he notices: the tall women is unconscious, being held up by the other. He quirks a brow, unaware a frail human such as the small one could ever be so strong.

“We just want to make a deal.” The man states, rather firmly.

Mingi’s gaze darts between the two humans.

“They want us to take their daughter for them.” Lias snorts, Darius laughing along with him. “As if we would care for such a useless mortal.”

“We know a little about your kind.” The woman continues. “Please, we know she’ll be better off here. We don’t want anything in return, just her safety.”

“She can earn her place.” The male adds. “She can look after herself, just please, take her with you.”

“We’re not about to gain something you don’t want.” Mingi retorts harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She has no use to us.”

“That’s not it at all.” The male is quick to shake his head, attempting to take a step towards the gathered redcaps only to be greeted by snarls and snapping fangs. He freezes. “Please-“

“We don’t need one of your kind slowing us down.” Mingi states, narrowing his eyes at the way the unconscious woman sways slightly. Honestly, he’s surprised this woman hasn’t fallen over yet, or caused the other holding her up to collapse under her seemingly dead weight.

“She won’t slow you down!” The woman is quick to protest.

“Watch your tongue, mortal.” Darius snaps. “This is no ordinary general you’re speaking to.”

The woman bows her head, cowering back and holding the other tighter to her chest. Though, due to the height difference, it looks quite awkward. A fact only echoed by the snickers Mingi can hear echo out behind him.

“Oh, come on,” Lias tilts his head slightly, a mischievous gleam in his gaze. “This could be fun. We could always use another pack mule.”

Some more snickers are heard from around the area, along with the snapping of jaws in agreement. The harsh clicking of fangs only rises in sound, and Mingi can smell the spikes of fear from the two conscious humans. A taste he absolutely revels in.

“The human would be safe with us from whatever outside forces you’re referring to.” Lias continues, his lips stretching widely over all too sharp teeth.

Mingi spares a glance around at his men, noting their sudden change in attitude. The eager gleams he sees throughout the crowd have him heaving a sigh.

“Very well,” he turns, beginning to walk away from this whole matter. He’ll let his men have their fun, and with any luck, the human will be dead come morning. “She’s your responsibility, though. If she survives.”

A cheer rises up through the surrounding redcaps as the tall women gets torn from the other’s arms and dragged across the protection barrier. Mingi thinks nothing of the way a faint smell of blood rises on the air, knowing his men are probably already having their fun after bringing the human properly into their realm. The other two have already been sent back, their memories altered forever. If they even remember having a daughter at all would be a miracle.

Entering his own private tent, Mingi settles into his favourite chair. Kicking his feet up onto a little stump, he leans back, relaxing into the evening chill that begins to settle over the land. They’ve still got a long ways to go to return to their keep, the scouting mission having taken a lot out of them. The rogue redcaps they had been hunting have all been dealt with. Traitors, every last one of them. The fight they had put up was gruesome, but as always, Mingi and his men came out on top.

Despite it all, some of his men still have energy to burn as he hears the familiar hooting and hollering of his subordinates last long into the night.

***

The next day, Mingi wakes to the encampment practically all cleaned up. Some of his men are finishing last minute preparations for travel, their bags packed and stored for easier maneuvering. All that’s left is to secure his own lodgings for the next leg of their journey.

“The human finally woke up.” Darius informs Mingi as he steps to the head of the line.

“She’s not dead?” Mingi quirks a brow, barely bothering to scan the gathered ranks to see if he can spot the women he saw last night.

“We figured we could use her for some entertainment-“ at Mingi’s sharp glare, Darius stops himself. “She’s surprisingly stronger than she looks. We’ve loaded her with a few packs and told her to carry them for us, or else she won’t like the outcome.” The vice-captain shrugs. “She complied.”

Mingi hums to himself, turning towards the direction they’ll be setting off in in a few minutes. He finds it odd for a human to be so complacent. All of the stories he’s heard contradict such simplistic actions. He was expecting screaming, and an attempt to run the first moment she regained consciousness.

Even more shocking is the fact that you’re still alive.

“Don’t let it go on too long,” Mingi shoots him a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Have your fun, but make sure she doesn’t slow me down.”

“Of course, General.” Darius nods, saluting him before running off to finish some last minute things.

Quietly, Mingi observes his battalion. He can see Lias barking orders at some subordinates to finish packing the rest of the camp quickly. Others appear to be scrambling about, and true to Darius’ word, Mingi spots that same tall woman from last night standing off to the side.

There’s nothing special about you. At least, from what Mingi can tell. You stand upright, spine straight with three packs carried on your figure. Their bulk simply adds to your own, nearly drowning you in their sheer size. Your face looks worn, and tired, but you move around where they instruct you to without complaint.

Mingi just hopes you can keep up with them.

A few minutes later, the redcaps are on the move. Multiple shoot you looks of disgust as they run passed, growling lowly in your direction. Some even go to far as to purposely run into you, spitting on you as they knock you over in your attempts to keep pace with the company.

It isn’t more than an hour into the morning when you start to fall behind.

Mingi heaves out a sigh, smelling the faintest bit of blood again in the air. A scent not uncommon in a group of redcaps, given their premise. Though, what truly annoys him is the subtle limp you attempt to hide as he marches over to you at the very rear of his guard.

Again, his men part for him silently. The simple power he exudes enough to silence even the rowdiest of the bunch.

“Are you that incompetent that you do not know how to walk properly, mortal?” He sneers, irritation clear on his features.

“I can walk just fine.” You reply bluntly.

“Then, keep up.” He snaps, turning so as not to waste another word on you for the moment.

With Mingi’s back to you, he fails to notice the harsh glare you send his way, but his subordinates do.

A harsh slap rings out through the forest, a dull thud heard soon after.

“You dare look upon our general with such vile contempt in your eyes?” Lias’ voice booms out through the surrounding redcaps, catching Mingi’s attention.

He freezes, turning to spare a glance over his shoulder.

There you rest, face down on the ground as you attempt to push yourself up. Your clothes are even more disheveled than before, dirt smearing your cheek. Yet, that harsh look still rests upon your face, even as the smell of blood becomes more prominent in the air.

“I didn’t ask for this.” You keep your voice low, but still clear enough for everyone around you to hear.

“Well, get used to it, Sweetheart,” Lias hisses, tugging you harshly back to your feet by the back of your neck. “You’re no better than a pet, now.”

You say nothing, instead opting to purse your lips. Your eyes narrow as you watch Lias retreat from you, hands fisted around the straps of the packs you carry as your whole body seems to tremble.

If Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re angry.

No… not angry. Disappointed.

Turning back to face front, Mingi decides to ignore you for the rest of the day. You’re not his responsibility, and how his subordinates treat you is truly none of his concern. Really, if it were up to him, he would have sent those two other humans bargaining for you to join them here in the fae realm packing. Perhaps he should have made an example of you all when he had the chance. Only, now, he’s stuck with you, and he’ll have to learn to deal with it, for the sake of his men. It’s not like you’re the only human he’s ever dealt with before.

Luckily, for the rest of the day, travel does not get halted again. You manage to keep up just fine, only falling behind once more near sunset. Mingi had wanted to travel for longer this day, covering more distance and hearing no complaints from neither you nor his men.

The faster they get home, the swifter he can deal with the mess that is you.

Mingi wants nothing to do with you. All you are to him is a pathetic little human. So frail, he could break you with the flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow on your figure as he sees you collapse against the side of a tree, none of his underlings sparing you any supplies as they set up for the night.

No food is offered to you, but you manage to scrounge some water. Your throat burns, and your feet ache as if they’re ready to fall off at a moment’s notice. The stitch in your side is finally calming down, and you’re just grateful none of these fae have ordered you to help them set up camp for the night. No, they stated they didn’t want you touching anything, or doing something wrong, and for once, you’re thanking your lucky stars for such a harsh verdict.

Lightly, you rub at your leg, right where you know that fresh wound still resides. It’s not a deep cut, but twisting wrong, or moving around too much aggravates the scar. Not to mention your limp which has returned even worse than before, due to the speed at which you’re expected to move.

Despite it all, you don’t say anything. No, you learned the hard way what talking back meant. Though, that might just be your one salvation through this all. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll see how far you can push these redcaps, and discover if their nature really lives up to their legacy.

For now, you settle deeper against that tree. It’s late, and you are exhausted. Sleep is one of the best things for you now, especially since there’s no way you can return to the life you previously once had. Thinking back on it now, you don’t know if you’d ever want to.

Not that you really ever had a choice.

The next morning brings another early start, you being commanded to carry even more than yesterday on your back. The only saving grace is that it seems the speed at which the band you’re travelling with has lessoned, but that doesn’t stop your whole body from aching.

Two more days pass like this, insults thrown at you by the surrounding redcaps, only for them to take out their amusement on you by either scratching you by ‘accident’, spitting on you, or pushing you to the ground. You manage to get some food, but it’s both rotten and vile. You’re honestly surprised your body hasn’t given up on you, yet.

You start to complain, but to your relief, or rather, disappointment, no one bothers to take your whining seriously. That, or they’re quick to shut you up, but not in the way you so desperately hope.

It’s around midday when you feel yourself lose your footing. The sun is shining brightly in the sky above your head, a few clouds drifting lazily by as you tumble harshly to the ground. The worst part is, you end up landing badly on your injured side. Unluckily for you, both that scar and your bad ankle are on your right leg which just so happens to land awkwardly on top of the root you tripped over.

You attempt to keep them at bay, but the sudden sharp pain you feel shoot up your leg sends tears to your eyes. You can practically feel your cut tear itself anew, a dampness seeping into the material of your tattered pants. Your breathing is heavy, and you can hardly force yourself back onto your hands, your entire body groaning in protest. Every ache pulses through you with each heartbeat, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is truly the end.

“What’s the hold up this time?” You hear a stern voice huff out above your head.

Mustering enough energy, you tilt your head upwards at the approaching figure. There’s a brief moment where the sun blinds you, filtering through the branches in such a way that burns your vision with a bright light until a shadow looms over you. Blinking reveals the redcap’s general standing before you, a look of pure ire marring his features as he glares down at you.

“Get up.” He growls, not even bothering to nudge you with his foot. You’re too far beneath him to bother.

A sad attempt is made by you once more before you’re collapsing on top of your weakened arms.

“I. Can’t.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut through the pain.

Mingi snorts. “Pathetic.”

With a roll of his eyes, he storms away from you, barking out orders to set up the encampment. From what you can hear, he plans to move out during the night.

They need to stop to eat, anyways.

Insults are hurled your way by various underlings, some even going so far as to step on you as they walk passed. It’s as if you are worth no more than the dirt beneath their feet as you continue to lay there, weak and injured, just waiting and begging for death to finally claim you.

“You’ve really been a thorn in the general’s side ever since you joined us.” A voice to your left catches your attention.

“I didn’t ask to become a slave.” You retort is half grumbled into the earth, brow furrowing as you glare in the voice’s direction.

A chuckle is heard from above you. “Last I checked, you weren’t actually bound to this group.”

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a male, or rather, what appears to be a male, crouch beside you. He appears a bit shorter than his companions, perhaps even an inch or two shorter than you, and that’s saying something.

“My name’s Windfel,” he says lightly. “I’ve never met a human before. What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you huff, finally managing to push yourself upwards and shrug those packs off of your back.

A hiss escapes you as you accidentally apply to much pressure to your right side, hand grasping over where that reopened cut resides. The dull throbbing you can feel, mixed in with the sight of days old blood and dirt only has you wincing. The wound is more than likely infected, and probably has been for the past few days. Only, you don’t have anything to treat it with, and it’s not like you can go around asking for help.

“Oh, you’re more clever than we give you credit for.” He grins. “You must know that telling a fae your true name means they have complete power over you.”

“You’re the ones who assumed me incompetent in the first place.” Your retort is low, and almost immediately, you flinch, as if bracing yourself for an impact of some sorts.

Again, he only chuckles. “That we did.”

“Is there something you want, Windfel?” The question is a bit harsh, despite you avoiding his gaze.

“Not in particular at the moment,” he hums. “I’m simply satisfying a mere curiosity. I’ve read a lot about you humans, thanks to the experiments in the Latha Court.”

“You experiment on humans?” Your eyes widen, a surge of panic washing through you.

“Yes.” He replies, somewhat cheerfully with a nod of his head. “We learn a lot about your kind that way.”

“You’re despicable.” A shudder caresses your spine.

“So I’ve been told.” He grins. “I am a redcap, you know.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice him tip a flat cap stained dark red in your direction.

“I’m aware.” Your answer is blunt as you attempt to stand to your feet. You don’t get very far, for you immediately fall back onto your ass as your arms give out beneath you.

A small ‘oof’ escapes you as you land on your right side, eyes squeezing shut as more tears spring up from beneath where you’ve always tried to hide them.

“You’re not looking so good,” he observes.

“Thanks for noticing.” A low grumble is all he receives in response as you attempt to push yourself upwards once more.

Another chuckle. “I like your sense of humour.”

A side-eyed look is sent his way curtesy of you, “If you want to call it that.”

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He goes to lift you to your feet.

Immediately, you cower away from him, a brief panic filling your gaze as you fixate on his hands.

“I have no intentions of harming you right now.” He replies, somewhat calmly.

“Why are you trying to help me?” You eye him cautiously.

He shrugs. “I’m bored.”

As much as you don’t appreciate his answer, you have no better options. Somewhat reluctantly, you allow him to help you to your feet, guiding you to a tent already prepped and ready. He lifts the flap, allowing you to stumble your way inside and sitting in a chair as per his instruction.

The tent is large enough to fit three people comfortable, appearing more spacious on the inside than from the outside. You suppose it has to do with the magic of the fae, considering they’re able to store everything and carry it so efficiently in such packs, no larger than what you’re used to calling knapsacks.

“You know, you really have caused a great deal of annoyance for our general since your arrival.” He says as he grabs a roll of white medical cloth from a little side table.

“I never asked for this.” You mumble, keeping your head down.

“I’m aware you were brought unconscious into our ranks.” Windfel replies. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Not that I’m obliged to tell you.” Your eyes narrow suspiciously, watching every movement he makes closely.

You highly doubt anyone will come to your aid if you decide to scream for help.

“Just making conversation,” he responds, lifting his hands lightly in front of himself in a shrug. “I’m not a healer, so all I’m willing to do is let you wrap that wound. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to dress it when we get back to the keep.”

You purse your lips, eyeing Windfel as he places the roll of cloth beside you. A moment later, and he’s moving around the tent, rummaging through his own pack and pulling out a fresh pair of clothes.

“What, exactly, is this ‘keep’ you all continuously talk about?” You ask, somewhat warily.

He completely ignores your question, tossing the spare clothes at you.

“I don’t use these anymore, and although we typically enjoy the smell of blood, we don’t enjoy when wounds fester.” His nose crinkles along with his words. “There’s a small stream about a quarter of a mile to the northeast. I’ll take you there once you’re ready.”

“You’re being awful nice to me for someone who doesn’t like my kind,” You observe, eyeing him carefully.

“I care about my general, and anything I can do to… lesson his burdens, I will.” Comes Windfel’s simple reply. “When you’re ready, I’ll be outside.”

You watch him step out the opposite flap of the tent he entered, brow furrowing as the material slaps shut. Shouts can be heard outside, along with the hustle and bustle of the rest of the encampment being set up. You bet the rest wouldn’t have even notice you moved from that tree, yet.

Tilting your head downwards, you look at the clothes in your hand, feeling the fabric between your fingers. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten any type of new clothing. Back in the human realm, the only time you got a new piece of clothing was when- no. You shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

Swallowing thickly, you look over at that roll of white medical cloth. As much as you don’t trust this redcap, this is the first ounce of kindness you’ve received in quite a long time. There’s a part of you screaming at yourself not to believe it, but there’s another part, a part much more vulnerable that clings onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up for you.

Your life has never been worth much, but perhaps someone is actually starting to see value in you that has never been there before. Then again, you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up. They’ve fallen too many times for you to count.

Taking a deep breath in, you grab that roll of medical cloth. Carefully, you wrap it in the bundle of clothes from Windfel, and stand back to your feet. Though you wobble slightly, you’re able to steady yourself, and within a minute, you’re exiting through the same flap that redcap did only moments before.

A single nod is all you give him as you stand outside the tent. A single nod of which he returns, motioning for you to follow him deep into the woods.

***

The journey to the stream is slow, taking well over an hour to get there. The distance is much greater than you were expecting, and the path isn’t easy at all. As much as Windfel seems to be ‘helping’ you, he did not once offer you a hand through the rough terrain of the woods through your travels.

“Will there be enough time?” You ask, eyeing the trickling water at the edge of the bank.

“Relax,” Windfel huffs out lightly. “Knowing the general, he’ll probably spend at least another two hours resting. So, as long as you don’t take too long, we’ll be fine.”

You purse your lips in response, but say nothing.

“I have no interest in watching you bathe, either, human.” He says, turning so his back is to you. “So, you needn’t worry about that.”

“I’ve never had much privacy, anyways.” You grumble, but as soon as the words leave your lips, your eyes widen. Terrified, you glance at Windfel’s back.

Choosing to either ignore your statement, or you entirely, he stands there, unmoving, His back is straight as he gazes out into the woods in the direction you both came, paying no mind to even the sound of water trickling behind you.

You turn back around.

Darting your gaze to the stream once more, you notice how clear the water seems to be. The movement against the stones appears languid, a gentle breeze flitting through the trees in the next moment. It’s almost as if the stream is inviting you in, luring you into it’s pristine waters, and the longer you stare at its enchanting depths, the more you long to dip your feet into its calming waters.

“What’s the catch?” You grit your teeth, cursing yourself for being so stupid.

“You humans always think there’s some sort of trick to everything, don’t you?” Windfel chuckles, and suddenly, you feel his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t even hear him move. “I could push you in, if you like, but I don’t think that would bode well for your wound.”

Your spine straightens. “I can get in myself, thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome.” The way you can practically feel him smile against your back has a shiver running down your spine.

A moment later, his presence at your back lessens, and you find yourself able to breathe easier once more. You spare a glance over your shoulder to see him resting in that same spot as before, his back turned as he begins to hum a small tune to himself. Eyeing him cautiously for a few moments, you finally turn back around to face the stream, deciding that he won’t actually do anything to you. Besides, even you are starting to not be able to handle your own stench, and that’s saying something.

Slowly, carefully, you begin stripping yourself of your old clothes. The tattered shirt you wear gets tossed onto the ground beside the new one, your pants following shortly after. You have enough mind to leave your undergarments on, just in case Windfel decides to play a trick of some sort on you, or run away with both sets of clothes. You still need something to wear, and Windfel is still a man.

Men are never good at keeping their promises. You learned that the hard way.

Stepping towards the very edge of the stream, you take your time sitting down. Each movement is stiff, pain shooting through your right side as you finally get a good look at the cut on your upper leg.

The wound festers, dried pus caked on the edge. The cut itself is swollen, days old blood littering the skin around it. From how bad it looks, you’re scared to even touch it, but a creeping thought in the back of your mind keeps you inching towards the water with every passing second.

You’ve had worse.

Carefully, you dip your toes into the crystalline water. It’s a bit cool to the touch, and causes you to jerk back, surprised by its icy feel. Yet, it’s alluring in a way, as if it’s the softest of silk that has ever caressed your skin. A luxury you have never been afforded, and you take the time now to savour it, despite the chill that clings to your feet as you submerge them beneath the gentle flow of the stream.

In no time at all, you feel yourself get used to the water’s icy chill, sinking deeper and deeper until you’re fully sitting on the edge of the river bank. Being mindful of your leg, you angle yourself so you can lean towards the water, cupping your hands together in order to gather the cool liquid in your palms and clean your wound.

The first few handfuls sting, but you grit your teeth and bear it. With each handful of water, more and more of the dirt, grime, and blood is washed away, revealing the cut to have gotten longer over the past few days. All that running around must have strained it, and reopened the wound over and over again, leading to the edges widening, and the cut deepening.

No wonder your whole leg has been aching. You just hope the infection isn’t already in your blood. There’s no telling what may happen to you, then.

“Oh my, that looks bad.”

A voice from above your head startles you, and you nearly go toppling into the stream. Looking up with a hand clutched over your chest, your eyes wide in panic, you see Windfel leaning over you, inspecting your cut.

“A few more days and you would have had to cut it off,” he remarks casually.

You physically feel your heart drop, your eyes briefly shifting to your right ankle. You swallow thickly, a jolt of pain travelling all the way from your foot upwards to your hip as tears unwillingly spring to your eyes. Almost involuntarily, you begin rapidly shaking your head, protests falling from numb lips.

“I’m just shanking ya!” He laughs, boisterously at that. He even goes so far as to pat your shoulder a few times, wiping tears of joy from the corner of his eyes.

“You’re not very funny.” You whisper, expression hard.

Windfel blinks, “Geez, tough crowd.”

You purposely avoid his gaze, looking back out over to the opposite bank of the stream. Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you slowly manage to get your breathing under control. Even you can hear the thunderous pounding of your own heartbeat, so you sure as hell know that Windfel can, too.

“I thought you weren’t going to watch me.” You mutter, slowly turning yourself further into the stream.

“No, I said I had no interest in watching you bathe.” He remarks, matter of factly. “There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” you mutter, slipping into the water and putting a little bit of distance between you and that redcap. Not that it would really matter, in the long run.

The chill of the water causes your body to stiffen for a moment, only for the entirety of your muscles to immediately relax. The chill morphs into a gentle caress, and as you sink down to allow the water up to your neck, you find yourself letting out a small, blissful sigh through your nose. Involuntarily, your eyes slip shut.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” Windfel hums.

Your eyes shoot open, turning to look over at the redcap who is back to standing in his original spot, facing away from you.

“I-“ you swallow, keeping your voice low. “I haven’t had a chance to bathe like this in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Windfel snorts. “I could tell.”

He makes a gesture similar to fanning the air in front of himself, and you find yourself rolling your eyes. You even go to far as to splash water in his direction before you can stop yourself.

Even though not a single drop of water touches him, your eyes still go wide. Not a muscle moves as you stare at him, your heartbeat thudding once more in your ears.

“Damn, human, you really are uptight.” Windfel snickers. “As if a little water could hurt me. It’s nice when such creatures are playful. Adorable, even.”

“I don’t think many would agree with you.” You mutter, gently pushing yourself backwards and creating just a tiny bit more distance between yourself and him.

“You’re probably right,” he hums. “Though, we all can agree on liking to be amused.”

“You confuse me.” You state blankly, rubbing at your skin lightly beneath the water and washing away any excess dirt and grime you can see.

“The feeling is very much mutual, human.” He replies. “I bet if you lived on your own as long as I have in the wild, you’d feel the same way.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hum, clearly not convinced as you dunk your head under the water briefly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you’ve never lived in the woods before? Never fought for your own survival all by you little lonesome?” Windfel’s voice is slightly mocking, and you know he’s probably only trying to get a rise out of you.

Unfortunately, though, it’s working.

“I think you and I have two very different definitions of survival.” You say, scrubbing a bit harder at your skin.

“Perhaps that is true,” he hums once more, as if considering your words. “But come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to know what it’s like to live on your own.”

“How do you know if I’ve lived on my own or not?” You retort, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

“I don’t.” Windfel shrugs. “From what those of us who care enough to read about your kind can gather, it’s observed that you usually go out on your own once you reach a certain age.”

“And you’re one of those that have read about my kind?” You quirk a brow.

The longer you spend talking with Windfel, the more you seem to ease into the conversation. Though the water continues to feel nice around you, you also decide that it’s time to remove yourself from the stream so you can quickly dry off and make it back to the others. The last thing you need is for something to happen, or for you to finally face the wrath of a redcap.

At this point, that may just be a blessing.

There’s almost a slight tug at the back of your mind. With each step you take towards the bank and your awaiting clothes, a small voice tells you to stay. The water seems to be caressing your entire body, becoming denser around you with each step. It’s almost as if the stream is trying to hold you down, to force you to not leave its waters. Yet, despite it’s almost enchanted callings, you persist, managing to pull yourself out of the crystalline water and back onto the side of the bank.

The consequences of staying far outweigh the rewards in your mind.

You fail to notice how Windfel’s brow quirks in surprise, but he continues on the conversation as if nothing is wrong.

“I’ve read a few things, yes.” He confirms. “Knowledge is power, or haven’t you heard?”

“Power is power, no matter where in the world.” You grumble, flicking off as much excess water on your body as you can before beginning to wrap your upper thigh with that medical cloth. Once finished, you tie it off quickly, but not tight enough that it will hurt you even more than you already are. A moment later, you stand back to your feet.

“Spoken like a true scholar,” Windfel teases lightly, his back still turned to you.

Slowly, you begin pulling on the clothes he leant you. The pants are a little short around the ankles, but they fit surprisingly well. Considering the size difference between the both of you, you’re surprised the shirt even managed to pull over your head, but it’s loose, and you’re grateful for the soft material that graces your skin.

“Still, you should definitely try living on your own at some point.” He remarks casually. “There’s no feeling quite like freedom.”

Your whole body freezes, gaze slowly trailing over to where Windfel stands, now at the edge of the wood. He seems to be holding a bundle in his hands, and when you look down, you realize that it’s your old, raggedy clothes.

“I wouldn’t know.” You state, rather firmly as your eyes narrow at the redcap across from you.

“Oh, yes, well,” he finally turns back around to face you, a grin tugging at his lips to reveal all too sharp fangs. “About that…”

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”

Your words clearly catch him off guard, for now it’s his turn for his eyes to widen in shock.

“My dear, why would I want to kill you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve done nothing but be forced upon us since the start. I may be a monster, but I’m not unreasonable.”

“Like I’ve never heard that one before.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

Again, your breath hitches as soon as the words leave your lips, and you find yourself flinching backwards away from Windfel instinctually.

He frowns, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “I told you. I care about my general and how much your presence burdens him. It’s easier this way if you just disappear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You want me to disappear, but not kill me?”

“For the most part.” He blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“How do you expect me to do that?” You frown, doing whatever you can to hide the clear exasperation in your voice.

“Run away.” He states.

“Excuse me?”

“Run away.” He repeats with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I doubt they’ll even notice you’re gone.”

Now, it’s your turn to blink at him. Once. Twice. Three times in disbelief as you cannot keep your mouth from falling open in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I think the whole point of you bathing was for that to no longer be the case.” He says smartly. “I told you. You’re a burden to our general, and if I can relieve that burden from his shoulders, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re not currently being hunted, so there’s no reason to kill you right now.”

“And where will I go?” You ask, incredulously. “I have nothing-“

“Find the Latha court, I’m sure those human lovers will take you in.” He cuts you off, a slight twitch to his brow. “Go that way,” he points off to your left with a clawed finger. “There’s a small town. I’m sure someone will give you a hand.”

“Like you did?” You quirk a brow, eyeing Windfel carefully.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Now, you best be on your way, little mortal. My patience is starting to wear thin.”

Though the last part of his words he says in a cheerful voice, the way his eyes gleam in the light of the setting sun unnerves you.

Without waiting for another chance, you take the one presented to you.

“I better not see you around again.” Windfel hums, and you can hear him beginning to trudge in the opposite direction that you are. “You won’t like it if you do.”

A shiver caresses your spine at his words, and you find yourself picking up your pace. Reaching the opposite end of the little clearing where the stream is, you quickly spare a glance over your shoulder. Windfel is nowhere to be seen, and you do not know if it should relieve you, or terrify you. All you do know, is that you have to put as much distance between yourself and that gang of redcaps as you can. To start, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The trek into town is a lot easier than you thought it would be. It only takes you about forty minutes to reach the outskirts, and with every step, you seem to gain better footing than before. The ache in your leg is dulling, and your head is the clearest it’s been in weeks. You don’t trip over any roots, or stumble over any rocks, either. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say things are actually starting to look up for you.

That’s when it hits you.

Is this even reality anymore?

Windfel could have cast a glamour over you. You could be under some sort of spell, or undergone some weird magic while bathing in that stream. You have no way of knowing what is true or not, unless you talk to someone. Even then, your chances of them tricking you are high, but it may be the only way to tell what is true or not.

Standing at the edge of the town, you do a quick scan of those you can see. The sun has already set, and the faint glow of lanterns casts a warmth around the surrounding buildings. There seems to be only a few people milling about, and honestly, you shouldn’t really call them people at all. From what you can gather, all these beings appear to faeries. Some have grand wings that sprout from their backs, ranging from feathered to those of the insect variety. Others, you can only discern from their height and pointed ears. The few flashes of razor sharp teeth aren’t that reassuring, either.

The only relief seems to be that all of the inhabitants steer perfectly clear of you. Save for one, who watches you fidget from across the way. His gaze dances with amusement, and you don’t know if that unnerves you more than if he were glaring. Long, dark hair is pulled back in a half-ponytail to showcase his sharp features. He sits on the edge of some steps leading up to what appears to be a shop of some sorts, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leans forward.

The moment he catches you staring, his eyebrows quirk curiously.

Turning away quickly, you curse yourself. You’ve always been used to blending in back home, that you didn’t realize just how much you’d stick out in the Fae realm. Perhaps you really are in over your head, but where else are you supposed to go?

A voice, smooth and deep, coming from behind startles you.

“Are you lost, Little One?”

#thrill of the hunt #cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #yandere mingi #yandere ateez #mingi scenario #mingi imagine #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #yandere kpop #kpop au #fantasy au #chubby reader #tall reader #fae au

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rippersz · 1 year

Text

𝖰𝗎𝖾 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝖺, 𝖲𝖾𝗋𝖺

───※ ·❆· ※───

(An OC/Named Reader x Larissa Weems one-shot) (Bittersweet/angsty. Possible part 2 depending on feedback.)

Summary: Odette sends a letter and it ends up in the wrong hands.

───※ ·❆· ※───

‘January 11th, 2023

Odette,

I am terribly sorry to inform you that the letter you sent to a woman named Mirabelle did not end up in her hands. I believe the mail carriers fell short along the way and got it mixed up within my pile of documents; thus my wayward response to you. Considering the nature of your words (I must admit I read them - my actions were caused by split curiosity and confusion), I suggest you re-envelope and reseal your letter before sending it again. I have slipped it in with this one. And if you choose to listen to me, then we shall both hope your sentiments arrive to Mirabelle in a timely fashion with no surprise stops along the way. Until then, someone must tell her that she is a very lucky woman.

And that I am very sorry she broke your heart.

Happy New Year Odette. Be well, Larissa W.’

‘January 18th, 2023

Larissa,

Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness. I am far sorrier than you are. Obviously if I knew that was going to happen, I would not have let it. Okay that doesn’t make much sense, but I’m sure you know what I mean. I think. Hopefully? Anyway, thank you very much for sending the letter back. I gave myself some time to think it over and did as you suggested. New envelope, new seal, new everything. Except the perfume on the letter was different. Are you wearing Jean Paul Gaultier? It’s very nice. Mirabelle may appreciate the mix of scents (I’m wearing Marc Jacobs - Daisy), so at least she’ll get something out of it. The words, on the other hand, I’m not so sure. That ship sailed a long time ago - I’m just not the type to give up easily. That’s a big flaw, I think. Oh well. I guess rambling’s a flaw too. And here I am. Forgive me?

Thank you again. Happy New Year. Odette’

‘January 23rd, 2023

Dear Odette,

Please don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault, as you know. And if I knew the letter did not concern me at all, I would not have read it. But, I’m sort of glad that I did. It was perhaps one of the best letters I’ve ever read in my entire life. Are you a writer, by any chance? If not, you should consider becoming one. The rambling could add a nice personal touch - it’s not as big a flaw as you think it is. It certainly introduced me to your keen sense of smell. Speaking of which, Daisy is wonderful. I may have a roll-on tube of that somewhere. Otherwise, you’re correct. La Belle was released in 2019, it has become my new personal favorite. Are you a perfume collector? Or perhaps a bloodhound? I jest, I jest. Though I do appreciate the follow-up. If Mirabelle doesn’t appreciate your love, I may have to send her a letter myself. That being said, please let me know what she says? If it isn’t too much of an inconvenience.

Be well, Larissa W.’

‘January 29th, 2023

To Larissa,

You are far too kind. I write in my free time, yes, but I’m not sure I’m good enough to become a writer. However, your support still means a lot - even from all the way in California. Quite a long way, right? Crazy how paths cross. Anyway, I’m not a perfume collector, no. But my friend, Cassie, wears the same kind. I know for certain that she’d say you have good taste. And I’d agree. That bloodhound comment was funny. I know you can’t hear my giggling, but trust me when I say I am. I wish I could be as witty, but I don’t know what to say. My humor is typically made up of making fun of people. Do you have a guilty pleasure I can harp on? An embarrassing secret? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours. And as soon as I get something back, I’ll let you know. Don’t start writing just yet.

Best, Odette’

‘February 5th, 2023,

Odette,

Telling you my secrets already? My, I believe we’ve skipped a few steps. What happened to a favorite color? A favorite memory? An age or profession, perhaps? If you couldn’t tell by now, I am still jesting. One of my guiltiest pleasures, though you may find it juvenile and silly, is the fact that I am a huge chocolate fiend. Many of my coworkers are aware that the best drink to buy me is a hot chocolate - hold the whipped cream. I am watching my figure after all. And because I pity your lack of matched wit, I’ll tell you that my biggest secret is the fact that I quite enjoy Taylor Swift’s music. Don’t ask me about my favorite song, I don’t think I could choose just one. Oh is that- is that the sound of your giggling? Maybe I can hear it from here, Ms. California. Now it’s your turn to hear mine. In the meantime, enlighten me on what you write about. I’m thinking poetry and free-form, with a focus on romance. I do a bit of writing myself from time to time, but it’s always in a diary. Never further. Perhaps you can do both of us justice and contemplate publishing? I’ll be the first to run to the shelves.

I hope you are well, Larissa W.’

‘February 13th, 2023

Dear chocolate fiend,

White. My first trip to New York City after Mirabelle. I arrived in the afternoon, went to see a movie, grabbed dinner and headache pills on the way back to my hotel room, and couldn’t sleep for the entire night. So I went out at 3 AM to see Times Square. It was only a block away and let me tell you, Larissa, it was beautiful. It was unlike anything. I felt safe for the first time in a while - beneath all of those lights. I was invincible. Not even loneliness could touch me. 27 and counting. Secretary. And potential writer. Someone I met recently has been trying to push me further into my hobby- to really adopt the lifestyle. You wouldn’t know them, though. Them? They/them? Please correct me if I’m wrong, Larissa. These letters wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable if I was calling you something you weren’t. As for me, I go by she/her. Mirabelle did as well. Does? Did? I’m not sure - I haven’t heard anything back yet. But that may be for the best. Horrid segue here (shame on little writer Odette), but Taylor Swift? Wow, I must be giggling quite loudly. HA HA HA HA HA!! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE!! I swear that one day I’ll get a laugh out of you as well. In the meantime, as you say, I’ll happily inform you that you’re a psychic of some sort. Yes, I write poetry and free-form romance. Novels have never been my thing though. But if I did write any, I’d have to say psychological horror is a favorite. I may give it a crack if you’d edit for me? Unless you’re terribly busy, Ms. Vermont. Then please don’t worry your pretty little head.

I hope you’re ‘weller’ than I am, Odette

(P.S. Happy Valentines Day)’

‘February 19th, 2023

Dear sweet poet,

Do forgive the late response. Work has been keeping me busy; but if you’re serious about editing, I’m sure I can set some time apart for you. That memory of yours does sound quite glorious - nearly heavenly. Such freedom is a dream for many people, myself somewhat included, so I admit I’m the tiniest bit jealous. However, I could always visit the city in the summer. Times Square is already calling my name… maybe I’ll even see a certain 27 year old stranger there. Maybe we could even grab hot chocolate. But I suppose you’d rather enjoy your independence. That being said, you are quite correct - they/them is one of my preferred pronouns. Much like yourself and the mysterious Mirabelle, she/her is another. And I’m glad we both agree that these letters are quite a treat. I have not had a pen-pal in quite a long time. My old roommate and I used to talk after we graduated, but times change. Much like they did for you and Mirabelle. I believe I may have loved my roommate in that way, too… but it’s as I said. Then again, she was always more of a psychic than me. I just got lucky. As for the answers to my questions, I’m quite sure none of those were secrets. Unless, of course, your favorite color is known only by myself. In which case, I’d consider myself lucky again. But either way, come to the table please Odette. Tell me yours - but only if you wish to.

Weller is not a word, Best, Larissa W.’

‘February 23rd, 2023

Dear Larissa,

Weller is a word if I want it to be. That is my secret. No, but in all seriousness, you’re correct. Fair is fair. So I’ll grant you this: I’m a redhead. Ugh I know! I know! It’s terrible. Horrible. I’m sorry. If you find that you can’t stand me anymore, I understand. A writer, secretary, AND a redhead? What’s next? An FBI agent? I can’t disclose that information. Speaking of which, you have yet to answer your own questions. All is fair in love and pen-paling, am I right or am I right Larissa? It’s okay. You can admit it. I’m right. Just like I’m right in saying that your roommate made a big mistake if she’s not with you now. Speaking from experience, love like that is not something one finds often. I’d say I’m glad you experienced it, for it has its good moments, but I know that the ache can be bad. Quite bad. Not to worry, though! If you figure you want to send her a letter, you may get a pen-pal out of it. Kind of neat, huh?

I’m sorry she broke your heart, too. What a foolish woman. Tsk tsk.

Best, Odette’

‘February 28th, 2023

To the resident redhead,

How could you betray me like this? A redhead? On the other side of these pages? I feel scorned. Scorned and touched. Very much like a writer to offer comfort for an offhand comment. I appreciate the sentiment more than you know. And just for your information, Ms. I’m-Always-Right: Silver. Getting my teachers certification and celebrating with a few friends before life pulled us in different directions. It was a wonderful night. I haven’t laughed so much since - and that was quite a while ago. 32 next year. Principal. I do hope that was enough to sate your burning curiosity; I’m sure you can be at ease now. And since I do so enjoy meeting you halfway, I’ll tell you that I’m very fair-haired. Very. Perhaps one day you’ll see. Until then, don’t let the curiosity kill you little cat.

Best, Larissa W.’

‘March 5th, 2023’

‘March 12th, 2023’

‘March 16th, 2023’

‘April 14th, 2023’

‘May 21st, 2023’

‘June 9th, 2023’

...

And the months went on.

And on.

And every few days, another letter came. Another letter went. Another letter was written. Another letter was sealed. Another letter was received. Another letter was cherished. Kept. Forever a lovely memory. Larissa and Odette went and went and went- on and on and on- exchanging and smiling as each paragraph grew in length. From this to that and whatever else they could find to think about; they formed a banter and connection like no other. Poking fun, making jokes, referencing previous letters, gossiping until their hearts were content. Purring within their chests, eagerly awaiting another letter. It kept their days moving. It kept their souls dancing. From miles away, they cheered each time they saw the thin familiar scrawl of Larissa’s writing and the loopy tilted words of Odette’s penmanship. At one point, they even tried copying each other’s style. It was hilarious. It had both of them laughing at the same time - and later doing it purely to mock. Such things, little but large, were frequent and lovely. One time, Odette mailed a perfume scent strip of her new favorite; and Larissa, never one to be outdone, sent a roll-on tube of La Belle. Odette got so ticked off she made her promise that they stick to letters and paper only. Larissa, usually a stubborn soul, agreed. That was their dynamic. Their push and pull. Their agree to disagree. Never did they fight; rarely did they not see eye to eye; and constantly did they playfully argue. It was small things- small insignificant little things- but they moved the conversation along. And it made them smile. It made them laugh. And during the hardest parts, the parts in which life pinched at their skin and dragged at their souls, it made them cry. It made them weep. It made them open up. It led to Odette confessing that Mirabelle had left her and it led to Larissa confessing that Morticia had left her as well. Two women, two ships in the night, both of which got away. And not gently, not two slow drifts into the night, but a harsh yank. Morticia left school with a man on her arm and Mirabelle returned to California one day from a business trip in France with a ring on her finger. The two of them agreed that it was funny how life likes to slap lovers in the face. That it was funny how life likes to get in the way. And enjoys ending good things and ruining them. Taking them away too quickly. With no warning at all. Without a single goodbye.

The last letter Odette sent was on October 28th, 2024.

Larissa hadn’t responded to her previous one. Or the one before that. And eventually, after much contemplation, she gave up. It wasn’t healthy- worrying so much. Odette figured that perhaps, finally, her worst fear came true and that Larissa realized their little arrangement was more odd than she thought. That she knew virtually nothing about Odette, not even her last name. And that she didn’t find her amusing anymore and didn’t want to associate with her anymore and didn’t want to even say hello. Or goodbye. Or anything in between.

It broke her heart a little bit.

Okay it broke her heart a lot a bit.

The radio silence left Odette living on autopilot for weeks. Months. Nearly half a year. She’d get up, check her mailbox, and go to work - only to come home, check her mailbox, and go to bed - just to do the same thing over and over and over again. Day and night. Night and day. It was worse than Mirabelle. It was worse than anything. No amount of teenage angst or familial grief could get over the deep void left within her soul once those letters stopped coming. Once the friend she found by accident, the kindred spirit she stumbled upon, the woman she lov-…. well. Once that one person decided never to write again.

Though like most difficult things that left her raw, Odette’s heart began scabbing over. She cleared her desk, packed away the special pens she used, put the paper neatly into a box, and tucked the leftover Larissa letters away right along with those sweet memories. Then she put them into the back of a closet she rarely rifled through… and tried to forget it was all there. The La Belle, which she rarely touched, was hidden in her pajama drawer at the very back- wrapped up in old T-shirts she no longer wore. And every other thing that existed around her, that reminded her of Larissa, was pushed out of sight. Out of sight and out of mind. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of sight… out of mind.

The company was celebrating her 5 year anniversary. They wanted to fly her out to Vermont. Jericho, Vermont. To have a little vacation there. To enjoy life. To fucking torture her.

She almost didn’t go. She almost canceled entirely. She almost quit her goddamn job because that was the same job she had when she first met Lar-…..

But she went anyway. Vermont was large enough. She’d be fine.

And she was, much to her surprise. She was entirely fine. It was a beautiful change of season; the air was crisp, the trees were changing color- morphing back into sunny greens. The world enjoyed its rain as April introduced May to Jericho and as the year of 2025 blossomed into being. Odette spent her days reading, taking walks, basking in the beauty of the log cabin the company rented for her. It was truly lovely. Truly a dream come true. And she didn’t even think- didn’t even wonder- about the other ship that got away from her. That barely even brushed past her, or lingered, before parting the water and skating away into the night all those months ago.

It was blissful. It reminded her of New York. Of that freedom- that independence- that song within her soul, dredged up from the depths.

But there was one thing.

One tiny little thing.

One little reminder that never left her. That she didn’t let go of.

“Hot chocolate, no whip, for Odette?”

A small smile grew on her lips as she slid out of the booth and made her way up to the counter. The young man met her eyes, returned the smile, and gestured to the warm cup on the counter with a nod of his head.

“Thank you lots.” And with that, she retreated to her booth.

Hot chocolate.

She wasn’t going to give up hot chocolate, let alone any chocolate at all, just because a distant soul enjoyed it. The whipped cream was something she wanted, but… old habits did always die hard, didn’t they? Oh most definitely. And as Odette reclined against the comfortable seat, eyes tracking the screen of her work laptop, hot chocolate firmly placed on the coaster to her right, she lived up to that sentiment with no room to spare. Leaving work at home was hard. She dove into it some time ago; dedicating more time, thinking, and hours into the well-oiled machine of her job just to distract her from everything outside of it. When she was there, responding, taking calls, managing dates and meetings and this, that, and the other, the world fell silent. Into a distant buzzy din. Into a land of muffled sounds and unimportant chatter - like her head was dunked under water as soon as she opened her emails. To a certain extent, it was calming. Repetitive and not at all that difficult after she figured out a proper routine; the worst part was dealing with those who couldn’t write properly. And in the professional world, that was rare. Well- if a person wanted to keep their job of course. And she definitely wanted to keep hers. It was fulfilling. Enriching. She made some friends, she shook some hands, she reassured her bosses. They knew she was reliable. Friendly. Odette never faltered. And they counted on that. Counted on her. Gave her the time of day. Responded when they could. Cherished her like a human. Like a friend. Unlike-

“Larissa? Hot chocolate, no whip?”

Odette blinked.

The muffled bubble popped. The world flooded back. She looked up from her screen.

Was she going mad? Crazy? Bonkers, finally? After all that time? Had she misheard? Maybe the young man said Patricia. Or Melissa. Or-

“Larissa! Hey, long time no see!”

Larissa.

Odette turned around in her seat so fast, she nearly broke her neck. She shuffled to the end of the booth, peered around the side, eyes wide and hands gripping the edge of the table… only to feel her excitement die as soon as it existed.

Of course. Foolish her. She didn’t know what Larissa looked like. She never got a proper description. Never got a photograph. Or a phone number. Or anything at all. Just a P.O. Box and a state. Just… nothing.

“Hello Jerry, it has been a while, hasn’t it? How are you?”

No, she- well she did get something. She got little things. Details. Odette’s brow furrowed as her eyes, hazel and starry and glazed over with apprehension and fear and admiration and horror, ran up and down the woman’s body. She was tall. Larissa never mentioned tall. She was curvy. Larissa never mentioned curvy.

‘I am watching my figure after all.’

…She was stylish. Larissa never mentioned style and fashion.

“Oh I’m good, I’m good. What about you? How’s the semester going?”

“I’m well, thank you. It’s… well it’s definitely going, Jerry.” They shared a laugh.

She was English. Larissa never mentioned being English. She wore gloves. Larissa never mentioned gloves. She-

Wait. Semester?

‘Getting my teachers certification…’ ‘Principal.’

Odette felt her heart drop.

But-

“I’m sure it is! I- oh shoot. More customers. Sorry, Larissa. Can we catch up later?”

“Of course Jerry. You know where to find me. Until next time.”

Hazel eyes watched the stranger wave. Then turn around.

Oh.

Dear lord…

She didn’t recognize her- not really- but the fair hair, which only registered then… and the silver jewelry. And the… the…

Odette watched as the woman walked past. She watched and she felt her heart in her ears- pounding, clawing, dancing- as she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. So deeply. So deeply it made her lungs ache. So deeply it made her soul tear in two.

La Belle.

Odette had never packed up her things so quickly. She never slammed her laptop closed so fast, never slid it into her bag so messily, never threw the bag over her shoulder or shoved her wallet into her pocket or grabbed the hot chocolate with such vigor ever before. Not once in her life. And rarely did she act so impulsively- not after Larissa. But seeing her then, somehow knowing deep within her soul that it was her… it broke- snapped- the thin resolve of Odette’s sanity and sent her flying out of the Weathervane like a bat out of Hell. She was burning up inside. Electric. Her eyes held fire and ice and so much warmth, so much desperation, that she nearly toppled over herself in her hurry.

The woman- Larissa- was a fast walker. Her long legs took her far as she distractedly typed on her phone with one hand and held the cup of hot chocolate in the other. Odette, being short and clumsy, was red and out of breath by the time she got close enough to call out her name. And call, she did. Call, cry, silently plead, she did.

“LARISSA!”

It was loud. Like a roar. Like a harrowing yell. Like something that held months and months and months of pain and sorrow and grief behind it. It instantly made her throat hurt, running it raw in only a second, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care at all. Not when her voice got Larissa to stop in her tracks and turn around, eyes searching and confused.

Of course, as to be expected, she had no clue who she was. Not even an inkling. Larissa got no description either - not even a photo. All she knew was that Odette had red hair. And that a woman with red hair was storming toward her, all fucks thrown to the wind, sneakers smacking the pavement hard as she stomped down the sidewalk. Larissa looked utterly puzzled, slightly mortified, entirely put off by the sight of such a determined stranger. Like she wasn’t sure if she had done something wrong and if she had, she wasn’t sure how to fix it. But Odette would tell her. Odette would make it known.

“What the fuck?” was the first thing out of her mouth.

A rather harsh introduction, but necessary nonetheless. She didn’t even really mean to say it, but the surprised widening of Larissa’s eyes had a twisted spark of satisfaction spiraling up within her soul.

And her outburst, naturally, meant many things. Not just ‘What the fuck?’ but ‘What the fuck? Why did you disappear? What did I do? Did I hurt you? Did I say something? Did something happen to you? Do you feel sorry? Do you miss me? Do you wish you responded? Do you hope to never hear from me again? Did you always know this would happen? Did you ever even bother to think that you should tell me you’re that beautiful? What the fuck, why are your eyes so blue? And why are they piercing? Staring at me? Heavenly and deep and never-ending? Like.. oceans… and why are your lips so soft looking and plump and red? Where did that scar come from? Do you hate it? Do you know that I like it even though I’m only seeing it now for the first time ever? Did you always wear your hair like that? How long does it take you to get it like that? How does it feel to take it out after a long day? Did you know your makeup is flawless? And that your jawline is magnificent? And that you’re so tall… and you look so strong… inside and out… and why the fuck did you not mention you were British? English? What does it matter? Just what the fuck? Why the fuck? How the fuck? What the fuckity fuck?!’

But overall, it only meant ‘What the fuck? Why didn’t you say goodbye?’

“I beg your pardon?”

Unfortunately, Larissa could never read minds. Or hearts. So the vague pangs of longing, like old rusted blood, only ached harder as the taller woman blinked and frowned.

A blush painted Odette’s cheeks. Right. Somehow, along the way of admiring, she’d forgotten. Larissa had no idea who she was.

“Um.” Clearing her throat, she adjusted the bag on her shoulder. Suddenly, things were very awkward. Terribly awkward. So horribly bloody awkward. It was a wonder if Larissa could feel the odd lull in conversation, the sudden dousing of Odette’s flames, but it didn’t really matter. If she wanted to, Odette was sure that if she chose to walk away, if she chose to take one last look before turning around and never coming back, then Larissa would never know. Then she’d just be another story. Another odd memory to tell her children one day, if she ever wished to have them. In her letters, the taller woman admitted that she didn’t think she ever would. But Odette always had a feeling that she’d be an amazing mother. Looking at her then, taking in the perfect posture and the crisp seams of her clothing, the feeling became fact. Larissa would be the best mom.

Funny that… there was a time, long ago, where Odette fantasized about making sandwiches for picnics and uprooting her entire life. Just to see the proud smile on her pen-pal’s face as her child grew and grew and grew and flourished. And maybe even ended up calling her ‘mom’ one day too.

But as Larissa wrote once upon a time, things changed. Time went on. And that was how it was.

So she could turn around. She could very well wrench herself from her spot and drag herself back the way she came. She could apologize, tell her she was mistaken, and that she was sorry - and then she could walk off into the sunset and pretend nothing ever happened. She could burn the letters. She could burn the very memory of her. She could forget the name ‘Larissa’ entirely and all would be left to rest. And that would be that. Que sera, sera.

But Odette was never the type to give up easily. Mirabelle, wherever she was, could attest.

So instead of abandoning ship, she powered through.

“It’s Odette,” came her firm tone. She straightened her back and tilted her head to look up properly, trying to stand tall in the face of heartache.

But heartache didn’t recognize her.

“Have we… met before?” Larissa blinked, turning to present her full attention.

Odette flushed red. Angry. Sad. Liberated.

“Have- have we met before?” She repeated, scoffed, outraged by her old friend’s obliviousness. “Just how many Odettes do you know?!” Her hands ran to her hips, firmly rooting themselves there as she began tapping her foot and glowering.

Such a display had Larissa scanning her from head to toe, desperately scrambling for understanding and recognition. The loose T-shirt, the black leggings, the sneakers, the hazel eyes, the pretty features, the freckles, the plump cheeks and curved body, the bag on her shoulder, the hair on her head. Red. Fiery. Standing out against the blue of the sky like a stain on white fabric. Messy curls and natural red red red.

Red… red…

Odette watched as Larissa froze. Her lips fell open, her eyes widened, she could practically see the way her heart stopped in her chest.

She remembered.

“…Odette?”

The shorter woman nodded, slowly feeling the anger and excitement drain from her body. It was fun being anonymous for just a moment. It was fun being the only one that remembered - having the chance to feel properly scorned and betrayed. But that didn’t last very long. The come down was harsh. Quick. A fall from immense grace. Especially when she saw the tears. They welled up in Larissa’s eyes, glossy and wet, making those sapphires shine. So swift they were. So rapid. As if sparked by Odette’s very existence.

Though maybe Larissa wasn’t the one that was tearing up. Maybe it was just her. Maybe the haze of the world, growing slightly blurry, was caused by the water that threatened to fall over her own lashes.

“Yeah.” It was all she could think to say.

For even with all of her passion, even with her love of words and her many discarded story drafts (all coincidentally started in the year 2023), even with whatever eloquence she was naturally born with, Odette couldn’t come up with a single meaningful thing to say. There was much, of course. But none of it fit. None of it made sense. Everything that lingered on her tongue, finally unlodging itself from the stickiness of her throat, was too heavy. Too heavy for the moment. Too heavy for the sidewalk. Too heavy for the side of the street. Too heavy for Jericho. Out in the open. Vermont. Miles away from home. Too close too close too close. Too much all at once. Maybe running after her was a bad idea. Maybe taking the vacation was even worse. Maybe sending that letter to Mirabelle in the first place was the poignant moment in which she should have changed her mind and threw it away when she considered it.

But she hadn’t.

And so there she was, staring up at Larissa, suddenly helpless. That ship that passed her in the night all those months ago had come back around; except that time she had stumbled upon it herself. And she wasn’t entirely sure if she was grateful- or terrified. Maybe the ship hated her. Maybe the ship would crash into her and ruin her and maybe the ship would begin shooting cannons. Maybe the ship would continue right past her. Maybe the ship would-

-hug her?

Odette blinked, very much unsure of what was happening as soon as she felt the comforting weight of long arms pushing themselves under her biceps and interlocking behind her back. La Belle and the soft clean smell of faded shampoo filled her senses. Her nose. Her lungs. Her eyes. Her heart. And soul. Part of her was so confused it wanted to grasp Larissa’s shoulders and shove her off. And the other part of her, the part of her that had dreams about receiving another letter from the one that broke her heart, wanted to give in.

‘That ship sailed a long time ago - I’m just not the type to give up easily.’

Odette’s arms pressed against Larissa’s waist. Their holds were odd, skewed by the cups of hot chocolate they held and the other items in their grasps. But nonetheless, it was… it was unlike anything. Each breath died on Odette’s tongue. She felt the atoms in her brain disappear. Like they never existed at all.

“I’m sorry.” It was said so softly, she was near certain it wasn’t uttered at all. But then Larissa was pulling back, hands shaking as she brought them to her lips. “I’m sorry.”

There was grief in her eyes. A sadness that not even the most haunted of poets could explore, nor understand, nor emulate. It gleamed. It cut Odette in half. It had her taking steps back, suddenly unsure. Suddenly disoriented.

“What-… what happened?” She was breathless, bewildered at the sight of regret swimming in Larissa’s eyes.

The taller woman opened her mouth… then hesitated. Her gaze burned through her old friend- then twitched away and ran over the world around them. The sidewalk, the street, the shops, the Weathervane, the town itself. They were out in the open. And their… reunion… was too good for that. Too painful for that. Odette watched as Larissa’s lower lip quivered; as the thoughts ran through her mind at the speed of light. And before she even spoke, she knew what she was going to say.

“Please, come with me,” her voice was soft. Silken. Heavy with guilt. Pouring with unspoken words.

It was Odette’s turn to hesitate. Years… nearly. However much time. She didn’t really know. She stopped keeping track once she realized she was losing sleep over it. Hours upon hours of sleep. It affected her work - it affected her body. It slit the throat of her life and dragged it through dirt. ‘It’ being the silence. ‘It’ being the goodbye that never came. ‘It’ being Larissa, Larissa, Larissa.

The same Larissa who held an apology wound up in her lungs. The same Larissa who looked down at her as if she couldn’t quite believe she was real, standing before her, breathing and living. The same Larissa whose shaking hands held a cellphone and a cup of hot chocolate that was swiftly running cold. The same Larissa with the same shining eyes that glistened with tears and crackling memories and affection, warmth, that seemed so out of place. Years without the comfort of that dove-like soul… years without the… the love? Love? Is that what they had? Perhaps it was too little too late to wonder. Perhaps Odette was just dipping into wishful thinking. Giving into the dreams she repeated over the years. With every word, every breath, every letter - she found herself begging. Pleading. ‘Please. Please please please invite me to Vermont. See me. Know me. These pages are killing me.’ All of it secretly scrawled between her slanting lines. Running in circles behind her hazel eyes. Displayed for Larissa, even though Larissa did not exist before her at the time.

Not like she did in that moment. In Jericho. In tears.

“Let me explain, Odette. I meant- I… just- give me a chance.” Larissa blinked her tears away and straightened her shoulders, tone growing desperate, body growing tense.

Never before did she sound like that in their letters. But never before did she leave Odette for so long. Interesting circumstances… Funny how life ended things so quickly. Funny how life brought out the truth in a person when they felt themselves tugged at a loss. Pushed to their knees. Though she said she had an explanation… and her old friend had never been a liar.

“Okay,” Odette breathed, clearing her throat. “Okay.”

“Really?”

‘Yes of course, really,’ Odette thought, looking at her with a mix of surprise and anger and devotion. ‘What are you, mad? I’d never just walk away. I’d never just give up. I can’t help myself. I never could. You know this. You know me.’

───※ ·❆· ※───

I quite enjoyed writing this. Might take a break from writing 'Heat' and 'To People Watch One Person' for a bit- same with requests. For the foreseeable future, whatever comes to mind will be written. I've started watching GOT again... and a certain Ser of Tarth has strummed the strings of my heart {as always} so maybe expect something with her? Dunno. Either way, thank you for staying with me. You mean the moon and stars, believe me. - Ripley x

───※ ·❆· ※───

#fanfiction #larissa weems #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x you #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #rippersz #gwendoline christie #angsty fic #bittersweet fic

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remxedmoon · 2 months

Text

pinned post yipee!!!!

hihi!! i’m marshall, i’m 18 years old, and i use he/they pronouns! no real preference just use em interchangeably

currently hyperfixated on in stars and time and inscryption!! but mostly isat. i use #isat spoilers as a blanket tag for all isat spoilers, including optional content and twohats! so be warned

i’m remxedmoon on basically all platforms, but i only post art on tumblr, discord, and artfight!! if you see my art anywhere else, that’s not me

feel free to use my fandom art and designs for anything!! profile pics, projects, references, whatever, i love that stuff!! as long as i’m properly credited go nuts!!! that being said, i don’t consent to my art being used for commercial purposes (without permission), hate speech, or to train generative AI.

^ addendum to this, please do not repost my personal art! those are my ocs. don’t do that.

stuff i’m working on!

in stars and scrybes / isatscryption - my isat x inscryption au!! it’s a full isat-themed campaign for inscryption. not sure how else to describe it. currently have no plans to make this a mod, but i’m perfectly fine with people using stuff from this project for whatever!!

masterpost -> here!!!

files for modding -> here!!!

sweet nightmares - my oc project!! which i don’t post much about atm. when i post about it, it’ll be under the sweet nightmares tag!

my brushes!

my brushes can be found here!! yipeee!! these are super scuffed i’m so sorry. i was like 12 when i made the binary brush. i am not responsible for any injury caused by these brushes. also not sure if these work outside of procreate…

tags and stuff

#marshtalkin - my ramblings

#marshdoodles - my art!!

#basilpostin - my horrid pet bird

#in stars and scrybes - art + generally more “finished” stuff for my au

#isatscryption - general au stuff! very disorganized…

#sweet nightmares - oc project stuff!

#marshtalkin #pinned post! lmk if any links are broken auau…

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blueraineshadows · 1 year

Note

Good morning, lovely lady! I'm very sorry to bother you again!

I have a little request if you find the time :)

I'm going through some stuff in my life atm that's really getting me down, so I need as much escapism as possible! 😅

*******

So after Hogwarts, MC and everybody went their separate ways. She hasn't seen Sebastian for years, but occasionally, they talk via owl. I'm thinking that Seb went on and got a really exciting job where he could travel and explore? Maybe MC got some kind of job at the Ministry that was a little less exciting?

Anyway, MC ends up meeting a handsome man at the office she works at, and he courts her before proposing to her. She says yes, even though she still harbours deep feelings for Sebastian, but she hasn't seen him for literally years.

At first, the fiance is really nice and kind, but he's been wearing her down little by little. A bit controlling. MC feels she's becoming quiet and docile.

There's a Hogwarts reunion in Hogsmeade and MC reunites with everyone. Sebastian attends, and there's still this literal connection between him and MC. They chat, and she introduces him to her fiance, whom Seb dislikes very much. He sees how they interact with each other and is furious.

Seb corners MC later in the night, after a few drinks, and tells her her fiance is an ass. That he's draining her spark. MC is angry at Seb, but there's so much sexual tension between them. Queue elicit affair-y smut between them.

Maybe fiance discovers and tries to drag MC away, but Sebs having none of it? Meh, Im rambling now, but you get the idea 😅❤️

Thank you for the Ask! 💜 I hope this meets your expectations...I got rather into it, so it's quite long!

Emotional/Fluffy/Spicy ❤️🥰🌶

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC x OC William Bennett

Dearest MC,

I hope this letter finds you well. How is London? I hear the weather has been very hot this summer. I can only imagine the assault on the senses a bustling city like London conjures in such heat.

As for me, I have spent three weeks in Italy, and it is beautiful, rich with history. You would have loved the library archives with its relics. It made me think of you and our times together. I wish you could have seen it. Currently, I am making my way back to England, stopping off to meet with Ominis, before returning to Feldcroft.

I hear there is a reunion of our old class mates in Hogsmeade at the end of the month. All being well with my journey, I hope to make it and see everyone. It will be nice to reunite with old faces and hear new tales. Are you attending? It would be lovely to see your face again. If I am lucky enough to attend, then I hope to see you there.

Be well. I miss you, as always.

Yours,

Sebastian.

The parchment was beginning to curl at the edges, she had read it so many times. MC smoothed the tip of her finger over Sebastian's name, signed by his own hand, and felt a weight settle heavily over her chest. His letters were few and far between, but each one woke up the most secret part of her heart. That special place where she kept her feelings for Sebastian curled up tight.

MC had not seen Sebastian for years, not since he had left to travel the world for his new job, leaving her behind to sit at a stuffy Ministry desk all day. She cherished every letter he sent, but her deepest desire was to see him, to hear his voice. It tightened her throat just to think of it.

"Darling, are you here?"

MC jumped at the sound of William's voice and quickly folded the parchment, tucking it away safely inside her blouse. She smoothed her hair and set her face into one of calm sweetness, William did hate it if she didn't look pleased to see him.

She grabbed the pile of files from her desk that needed to be stored and stood up, making herself look busy as William appeared in her office doorway. He looked dapper in his fine suit, top hat in hand, his coat over one arm. He smiled, blue eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "There you are, my love," he said. "Care for some lunch?"

"Of course," she said. She patted the files. "Do I have time to file these?"

He looked at the folders, a slight frown on his lips. "If you must. I will be glad to see the day when you no longer have to be messing about with old, dusty archives."

"It's not so bad," she replied. She attempted a smile, trying to please him. "I quite enjoy it. When I was at Hogwarts..."

"Yes, yes, I know," he said, waving a hand to brush away her words. He moved to tug the files from her arms and dump them on her desk. "Soon you will not need to worry about such things. You will have social events to attend, girlfriends to have afternoon tea with. As my wife, you will want for nothing, I promise you. No need to sit at a desk all day wasting your time with your nose stuck in a book."

He chuckled and shook his head, fetching her coat from the hook. "Honestly, women who read!" He clicked his tongue and held the coat up for her. "I thought we would lunch at that lovely place near the river we like."

"Of course," she agreed. "Whatever makes you happy, my dear."

His smile was satisfied as he took her arm and led her out of the office. She kept her head down and her smile polite, nodding and saying all the appropriate words as they walked from the Ministry towards their restaurant.

Behind this meek mask, her heart was twisting at the feel of Sebastian's letter against her breast. How had she let her old life slip so far through her fingers? How had she ended up so lost?

She tightened her hold on her fiancé's arm, thinking that he might be the only thing holding her up right now. Handsome William Bennett, heir to a railroad fortune, deep in favour with the Minister for Magic, and admired by many. He had charmed her, courted her relentlessly, and then he had proposed. It had been the bottom of a long, lonely, slippery slope and she had accepted.

The huge diamond glittered on her finger, but her heart felt dull, empty. Somehow MC had lost herself and she wasn't sure how to get herself back.

....*....

The train slowed to a stop at Hogsmeade Station and MC stepped from her carriage, hand in William's as he escorted her, the image of the perfect gentleman. Behind his polite demeanour, he was quietly seething. He had not wanted to make this trip, but had refused to allow her to travel alone. It was unbecoming for a young woman, he had lectured. So, despite his disdain, he had accompanied MC.

The Scottish Highlands were looking as beautiful as ever and MC took a deep breath, her eyes drinking in the familiar sights. She felt some of the weight lifting from her heart. It felt like coming home.

The next port of call was The Three Broomsticks. William had reserved two rooms for them.

"We could, of course, share a room," he murmured, near her ear. She felt herself clam up, her fingers clutching his arm a little tighter. He mistook the movement for something a little more desirable and brushed his fingers over her knuckles. "We will be wed come the winter, it wouldn't be the most terrible thing to share a bed, and you could almost say it is a romantic setting."

He gestured at the quaint little village, his eyes warming with desire as he gazed down at her. "I would love nothing more than for you to come to me at night, share my bed."

She flushed and lowered her gaze. William was handsome, to be sure, and MC had shared kisses with him, polite courting touches. But there was no fire there, no burning need to feel him closer. Waiting for marriage was an excuse, and one that would soon be void. MC didn't want to think on it.

"I...I'm not sure if that's entirely appropriate," she said, quickly. "This is a close knit community, people talk. We should wait until we are married, William. It's the right thing to do."

William's lips tightened in disappointment, but he nodded, regretfully removing his caress from her hand. "Of course, my love. Seperate rooms it is."

MC fought back her shiver of relief.

That evening, dressed in a dark green dress with silver threading in the bodice (not in the hope of impressing a certain Slytherin, of course), MC entered the bar of The Three Broomsticks. Her corset was tight, but she was breathless for a whole other reason. Tonight, she might see him. Sebastian might have come.

"MC!" Poppy came bounding out of nowhere, cheeks flushed with happiness, her hands clasping MC's tightly. "Oh, I am so glad you came!"

The girls embraced and MC felt the burn of tears as her old friend squeezed her tightly. "I have missed you, Poppy. And look at you! So beautiful!"

William frowned at such open displays of affection, but he was polite when introduced. MC couldn't help but see the flicker of confused disappointment in Poppy's eyes at the word, fiancé. MC fixed her smile in place and moved to greet the others.

Garreth and Leander were there, Natty and a few others MC was pleased to see, but her eyes couldn't help but stray to the entrance, her heart hoping for a glimpse of unruly brown hair.

William was bored, his face a little sour as he stood by the bar. He watched MC closely, frowning when Garreth and pulled her in for a hug. MC had soothed William with soft touches on the arm, reassuring smiles, but she was tense, afraid of doing or saying something wrong. If only he had let her come alone. If only she could breathe.

And then the doors opened, two men walked through, and MC's heart dropped, stilled and then soared, beating a mile a minute. Ominis looked so dashing, and tall, commanding the space around him as his wand led him further into the bar. Beside him, as always, was Sebastian.

"Oh," MC breathed. The sound escaping her lips without any thought for hesitation. Oh, but he looked so wonderful! Better than she had ever imagined!

Sebastian's face had lost it's smooth roundness of boyhood, but it had filled out in other ways, ways that made MC's mouth feel so very dry all of a sudden. His shoulders, his hips, the length of his legs, the way he laughed at something Ominis had just said, his head falling back just so. Her starved eyes gobbled it all, hungrily. He pushed long fingers into his hair, rumpling the brown locks and MC felt her hands clench into tiny little fists. Oh, how her fingers longed to do the same.

She thought she might cry, faint like some over dramatic socialite, or maybe just lose the entire contents of her stomach right here in front of everyone. Butterflies were flipping madly in there and she pressed a hand to her chest, that heavy tightness seeming to become a pounding thud. Or was that her heart?

"Goodness me, is that the youngest Gaunt boy?" William asked.

Ominis was hardly a boy any longer, and would no doubt frown at the term, but William could be pompous and irritating at times. He had a habit of behaving as if people were below him, and MC wondered how it had not bothered her sooner.

MC tore her gaze from Sebastian to nod at him. "Yes, Ominis Gaunt," she replied. Her words were a little breathless, her eyes desperate to return to Sebastian. "I thought I had told you I attended Hogwarts alongside him."

William's gaze was sharp, almost irritated. "You did not. You must introduce me, MC."

"Of course," she agreed. She took William's arm and they moved to join her two favourite Slytherin boys at the bar.

Sebastian's gaze fell on MC and he stilled, pure delight washing over his features. "You came!" He exclaimed.

Ominis stilled beside him, his head tilting a little in the direction Sebastian had spoken. His words were soft, filled with warmth. "Don't tell me MC is here?" He smiled and held out a hand. "Then I must greet her at once. Where are you, my dear, for I have missed you a good deal."

MC flushed and held out her hand, placing it in Ominis', who then placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. William watched the whole thing, his mouth tightening at the familiarity between his fiancé and the young Mr Gaunt.

Sebastian was watching too, his eyes only for MC, as if he needed to savour detail as she had of him.

"Ominis, may I introduce my fiancé, William Bennett?" She guided Ominis towards William who shook his hand in greeting.

"Bennett?" Ominis asked. "Of the Bennett Railroad family?"

"The very same," William said, proudly.

Sebastian's eyes at darkened at this introduction, his eyes now assessing William closely, his lips thinning a little. Ominis turned to introduce him, and while William was polite, he had no interest in Sebastian. He was more keen to speak with Ominis, to rub shoulders with a well known Wizarding family.

William looked down at MC. "Why don't you run along and chit chat with your little chums, my love, and let the men talk."

Sebastian's eyes widened, his eyebrows shooting upwards as he glanced between William and MC. A flush darkened MC's cheeks and she nodded meekly, unable to even meet Sebastian's gaze. If she had, she would have seen the shock in his eyes at her timid behaviour. The girl he knew would have been spitting fire if someone had belittled her like that.

MC left William to talk to Ominis, every fibre of her being trying to resist as she turned her back on Sebastian. It hadn't been enough, not nearly enough, and she almost gasped at the need to be nearer to him.

They sat for dinner, William dominating Ominis' attention, but he kept a possessive hand at MC's arm or lower back at any given opportunity. When they ordered, MC had quite fancied the chicken, but William ordered the beef for the both of them, not even consulting MC to see if that's what she wanted.

MC risked a glance towards Sebastian and swallowed at the fury in his eyes as he glared at William. Her heart pounded. Shame made her gaze drop to her lap, her fingers twisting her napkin. She felt like an outsider imposing in on her own body. Her very ears rung with the horror of losing her own sense of self.

She looked at the people sitting around the table, chatting, laughing, her own lips moving and attempting to smile, but it felt strange. Her heart craved all of this, these familiar and much loved faces, but her head was warped. She felt trapped.

The only thing that helped was the wine, and even that had been chosen and poured for her by William.

Poppy clasped her arm after they had finished their meal. She leant across to William. "I am going to steal your lovely fiancé for a time, we have some much needed girl talk to catch up on."

A crease appeared on his brow as he stared at Poppy, then he glanced across the table towards Sebastian, who was deep in conversation with Garreth. Slowly, he nodded. "Of course, you two ladies have fun."

Poppy led MC away from the table and outside into the cooling evening air. MC gulped down her breaths and held on to Poppy, grateful for the escape.

Sebastian may have been talking to Garreth, but he had been keeping an eye on MC all night, his fury mounting at the way that pompous bastard had belittled and shamed her. His fingers ached from the need to smash his fist into the prick's pretty face.

Poppy pulled a hip flask from her silk bag and held it out to MC. "Here, you look like you could do with some of this."

MC saw the flask. "That had better be fire whiskey," she said.

"What else?" Poppy grinned.

MC took the bottle and swallowed two long gulps, gasping, but relishing the burn as it went down.

"Why him, MC?" Poppy asked, bluntly. "Why William?"

MC shrugged. "He was kind to me."

Poppy frowned. "That is no reason to sign yourself up to marriage with him," she said. "I mean, you don't look yourself, not a happy, blushing bride in the slightest. And, yes, he is pretty, but he is no Sebastian, MC. Not by a long stretch."

MC gaped. "Wh...what?"

Poppy gave her look. "Oh, MC, really? We're not kids anymore, and you are not fooling anyone, especially me. The tension between you two is so thick, you could slice it with a good Diffindo!"

MC's blush touched the tips of her ears. "Do you think William has noticed?"

"If he hasn't, then he is even more of a fool than I thought."

MC stared at her. Horror was one emotion tugging at her. The very idea of William knowing the depth of her feelings for Sebastian was chilling. But she could also see the ridiculous predicament she had found herself in, and it really was one of her own making. But how would she get out of it?

Maybe it was the alcohol going to her head, or maybe she was going mad. Either way, she started giggling, and then she couldn't stop. And then Poppy was giggling. It felt good, so good. It was a release and MC seized it with both hands. She held up the fire whiskey. "I think I need some more of this."

....*....

The air inside the bar was becoming too suffocating and her corset felt like an iron band. MC was flushed from the whiskey, hot and flustered by the presence of one Mr Sallow, and yet he still wasn't close enough for her liking.

She met his gaze for about the 100th time and he smiled, a delicious, sinfully beautiful smile. Her lips parted. Oh, Merlin. She really might faint this time. And then he was moving towards her. Her pulse picked up the pace and she wiped sweaty palms against her hips.

William was visiting the bathroom, there was no other distraction, and then Sebastian was in front of her. "There you are," he said, softly. His gaze was warm. "Finally, a moment alone."

"Yes," she breathed. She stared at him, inwardly kicking herself. Yes? Is that really all she could say?

A torrent of unspoken words hung between them, suspended, dangling like tempting fruit. Now that he was right there, in front of her, her tongue seemed frozen and all she could do was stare.

A flicker of concern clouded his eyes. "I did worry a little when you didn't reply to my last letter. I had hoped you would be here, even if just to ease my mind that you were alright."

"I'm sorry," she said. "That was rude of me. But, I am glad to see you here. I am glad you made it safely home."

He nodded, a small smile on his lips, but he still looked concerned. "I didn't expect to find you engaged, though. That was a surprise. At least you have someone looking out for you, if that's what he actually does?"

Her lips tried to lift into a smile, but she had never been able to lie to him. The words that fell from her lips felt stilted, wrong. "I'm fine."

His eyes narrowed a little. "You are happy, aren't you? I mean, it's what you want."

She knew what he meant, oh she did. He knew her better than she knew herself, even though miles and time had kept them apart. She needed to smile and nod, the perfect little puppet she had become, tell him that she was happy, she was fine. Her life was all roses and smiles, etc, etc.

Her lips parted but nothing came out. His eyes dropped to her mouth, distracted by their movement and nerves made her tongue dart outwards, flicking over her bottom lip. Her breathing stalled at the way his eyes darkened, a fire building behind them, and her traitorous body responded. Flame, searing and coiling deliciously, overwhelmed her and she actually gasped, because she was leaning forward. Her body, like a magnet, was drawn to him, impossibly drawn to where it belonged.

Shock at the realisation made her straighten and she pressed trembling fingers to her cheeks. Where she belonged!

Merlin, she couldn't breathe. She turned on her heel and made a dash for the door, not caring who saw as she grabbed up the skirt of her dress and headed out into the fresh air.

Of course, Sebastian followed. Hadn't he always?

He caught up to her, took her arm, and spun her to face him. "Please...don't." She gasped.

He didn't let go. She looked down at where his long fingers held her forearm, not gripping her, just holding her. No possession, no demand, just a touch. Her lips trembled.

"I've seen you face countless monstrous enemies, take down the darkest wizards and slaughter trolls in broad daylight," he said. "But I have never seen you cower, or hide as much as you have tonight, MC, and it rips me open. It kills me to see you so, a shadow of your former self. How did this happen? Is it him? Does he hurt you?"

"Of course he doesn't hurt me! Don't be ridiculous."

"You're aren't happy though, are you? Not really," he pushed.

Her chest heaved against the tight laces of her corset, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. He was right, gods he was right and she hated it, because it meant she was wrong, she had failed.

"I...we shouldn't be talking like this..." She glanced around the now darkened street.

Sebastian's face tightened. "Why? Because dear William won't like it?"

She flinched.

He tugged her a little closer. She let him, her eyes glued to his. "Well, I don't give a flying fuck what he thinks."

A small cry left her lips as he grasped her hand and began to walk her away from the entrance of the pub, his stride determined. She had to jog to keep up, her little heels clacking on the cobbles, her other hand lifting the hem of her dress.

He took her to a darker, more secluded corner, and a thrill shot through her despite everything. She found herself backed up against a stone wall, his face inches from hers. He leant a hand against the wall near her head, his other hand coming up to gently cup her face. She closed her eyes, the touch of his skin against hers a forbidden flame.

Merlin, she was leaning into it!

"Tell me the truth," he begged. "Tell me he makes you happy, and I will leave you alone, I promise. But if he doesn't, even if there is the smallest doubt, then tell me. You can tell me."

"Sebastian..." Her voice was a whisper, a plea. "Don't..."

"I cannot bare the thought of leaving you with him if he is going to continue to crush you like he is, because that girl I knew at school, that wonderful, fiercesome girl, who knocked me on my arse on my first day...that girl is going to die if you let him bully you like that."

She stared up at him. Her heart hurt. Maybe she was already dead inside and that was why she had let things slide so far.

He looked down suddenly, and she followed his gaze. Her breath stilled. When had her fingers threaded themselves into his clothing? She was grasping the front of his vest, a fistful of cloth under white knuckles. She couldn't let him go either. If she let him go, then she might just float away, lost to the skies, a drifting ghost of herself.

Their gazes met again. How she had missed those eyes!

"Don't look at me like that." His voice was rougher, deeper, an edge to it that made her skin erupt with goosebumps.

"Why not?" She was playing with fire. She was going to burn herself.

"Because it makes me want to throw decency out the window, and kiss you until I can't breathe," he said, darkly.

Oh, she was definitely going to burn. She realised she didn't care.

The fingers curled in his vest pulled him closer until his lips were a breath from hers. "Do it," she sighed. "I can't breathe anyway."

The moan in her throat was relief. His lips found hers, a soft, teasing taste that promised so much more. Eagerly, she welcomed him, parting her lips and offering her tongue, the taste of him more intoxicating than any fire whiskey.

Her fingers found their way into his hair, sliding through the softness, and it sharpened the ache growing within her. Her body pressed up against his, the solid length of his frame so safe, but exciting. Their clothing was an irritating barrier, her skin screamed to feel his, like she wouldn't feel complete until she could wrap herself around it.

"Gods, MC..." He groaned, his mouth moving to taste her jaw, her throat, his tongue swirling up to flick against her ear. Her grip in his hair tightened. Yes, this was what she wanted, what she craved.

MC closed her eyes, savouring the feel of his lips on her neck, his mouth sucking, tasting her flesh. The warmth of his hand seared through the silk of her dress at her waist, the bones of her corset stressed under the pace of her breathing. "More," she panted. "Sebastian..."

He claimed her mouth again, his hips rocking against her, her back scraping against the stone of the wall. She smoothed a hand down the expanse of his back, melting at the flex of muscle, before drifting lower, daring a squeeze of his delicious backside.

"Fuck," he breathed. The profanity sent a crackling thrill through her, and she moaned. Yes, she would love to do that, craved it even.

He began moving his mouth downwards again, lower this time to swirl his tongue against the tops of her breasts, the flesh moving rapidly above the rim of her corset with every panting breath. His fingers tugged at the damned thing. "I need more of you," he muttered.

And she would give it, gladly, she realised. A pin slid from her hair, a long lock tumbling free to tickle against her flushed cheeks. She was lost, drunk on his kisses, his touch, and it was nowhere near enough. She felt like a woman starved.

A rustle of silk, cool air against her legs and then a warm hand smoothing up the flesh of her thigh. The sound that left her throat was almost feral. "Yes, yes," she panted. She grabbed at him, fingers tugging his shirt free from his trousers, a hand sliding up underneath to explore the hot, firm flesh waiting for her there.

She ached for his touch, her thighs trembled in anticipation as he slid his hand higher. Just a bit more, she begged silently, her eyes squeezed tight. Just a bit higher. His finger tips grazed against damp silk, and then he was gone, ripped from her clutches forcefully, and someone was shouting.

"How dare you!" William held Sebastian by the scruff of his neck, shaking him, fury twisting his face into something terrible, frightening even. "How dare you lay your hands on my fiancé!"

MC was gasping, her hair in disarray, her skirts caught up revealing a bare leg. Red marks of passion bloomed on her throat and chest, all the way down to her neckline. Her legs shook, not from fear, but from a need unmet.

"William!" She held out a hand for him to stop, the other hand hastily smoothing down her skirts. "Stop, William!"

Sebastian shook himself free of William easily enough, shoving him backwards and whipping out his wand. He aimed it at William, his lip curled. "Grab me like that again and you'll know about it!"

William pulled his own wand out, eyes narrowed. A stand off. William flicked his gaze towards MC and his fury faltered, his mouth gaped at the sight of her so dishevelled. "MC..."

She smoothed the loose strands of her mussed hair back from her face, the beginnings of a flush flooding her cheeks. She kept her hand held out, stepping between both men. "Lower your wands," she said. She looked at William. "Please."

"I think not," William said. "He dares to put his hands on you, violating you in such a way. I ought to castrate him for this!"

"I'd like to see you try," Sebastian spat. He adjusted his stance.

"Stop it, both of you!" MC had thought herself in a mess before, but this, this was something else.

"I knew it! I knew he was going to do something like this, just from the way he was watching you at dinner. His eyes never left you," William growled. "Disgusting, loathsome piece of trash. You are not worthy of her!"

MC gasped, her body moving to guard Sebastian. He was more than capable of looking out for himself, but she couldn't help it. Out of the two, she would jump in front of Sebastian first. Every time.

"Did he hurt you? I've a good mind to call an Officer to deal with this," William said. He was trying to aim his wand around her at Sebastian, outrage twisting his mouth.

He thought Sebastian had attacked her! It had not occurred to William that she had been willing. MC put her hands to her forehead. Oh, Gods, this was getting worse!

"There will be no need for an Officer," she said. She backed up towards Sebastian.

"Don't be ridiculous, MC," William snapped. "Now, step out of the way and let me deal with this filthy heathen."

MC went calm. She straightened, her eyes growing hard as an old fire awoke in her, the part of her that had been a fearless fighter. She backed up further still, her hands feeling for Sebastian and he took hold of one, his wand arm coming over her shoulder, still pointing at William.

William's eyes bulged as Sebastian wrapped his other arm about her waist, holding her against him. "What is this!?"

"Lower your wand," she said, coldly.

William hesitated, torn, but lowered his wand. "MC, you better start explaining this," he said. He looked from her to Sebastian, to the way Sebastian's arm held her protectively. "Did you let him touch you like that?"

William looked horrified, disgusted. MC felt a brief flash of shame, but shook it off. "I'm sorry, William," she said, calmly. "But, yes, I did."

William's jaw clenched. He stared at her, his humiliation playing out across his face. She swallowed. And then, William looked a little smug. "What will this do to your reputation?" He spoke with an oily undertone. "Oh dear, MC, rutting with a nobody in the street. Of course, how could I marry such a harlot? Your name will be a shameful piece of gossip whispered in parlour rooms. I expect it would be highly unlikely that the Minister would appreciate such behaviour. Such a shame to lose your pathetic little job over it too."

"You wouldn't," she gasped.

Sebastian moved his mouth closer to her ear, the warmth of his breath brushing her hair gently. "Let me take him," he whispered. "It would be my pleasure."

And he could do it, she knew he could. She had seen him kill before, just as he had seen her kill. She had covered for him, lied, to save him from Azkaban. She did not make that choice only to see him sent there anyway, and for her honour.

William shook his head in distate. "You would honestly choose him, over me?"

Her hand gripped Sebastian's arm, holding it against her stomach. "I love him," she said. There was no doubt, no faltering in her words. It was the truth at last. "I always have, ever since I was a girl."

She heard, and felt, Sebastian's breath hitch, and his arm tightened around her. She hoped with every fibre of her being that he felt the same way, otherwise she was making a monstrous fool of herself.

William flinched at her confession as if she had slapped him. He rubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head, and then his wand flicked upwards, a spell shooting from the end of it. His face pure rage.

But, Sebastian was ready. He blocked the spell with ease, and cast Bombarda in return, sending William flying across the street into a stack of crates. The crash echoed across the cobbles and MC gasped. "Sebastian!"

"It's alright, I've got you," he said. "I've got you."

She sagged against him. "Don't let me go," she whispered.

And then the world spun, blackness, and with a pop, they landed onto a wooden floor. MC sat up, disoriented, gazing around. Her stomach still catching up with her after Apparating.

She turned to look at Sebastian. She recognised where they were. It was his cottage in Feldcroft.

She was sitting on the floor with Sebastian, in his home, just the two of them. She had admitted that she loved him. The weight in her chest had lifted. The enormity of the whole evening crashed over her and the tears gathered in her eyes. Her lips trembled, and then she was sobbing.

Immediately, Sebastian pulled her into his arms, kisses rained down over her hair, her face. His lips kissed the tears from her cheeks and his hands soothed her, calming strokes on her arms and hair. "It's alright, you're safe here," he murmured. "You never have to go back there, to him. It's alright now."

She pulled back to look at him, her hand moving to his cheek. It was real. He was real. "You were gone," she sobbed. "You left and I thought I might never see you again."

His face was pained, his eyes regretful. "I had to leave, get away from this house. I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

She buried her face into his shirt, clutching him tightly. "I can't believe you're really here."

"I would have taken you with me if...if I had known..." He faltered and took a breath. He leant his chin on top of her head. "Did you mean what you said back there?"

She nodded. "Every word."

He groaned, squeezing her tighter. "Gods, the time we have lost. Years apart...I should have taken you with me."

She looked up at him. "We still have time," she said. She hesitated. "We could have the rest of our lives."

Their gazes locked. "I've always loved you," he said. "I thought it was only in my dreams that you felt the same way."

She shifted up and put her forehead against his. She huffed a laugh. "We're both as bad as each other. Ominis was right, we are a right pair of idiots."

"I won't tell him you said that, he would be far too smug," Sebastian grinned.

He took her left hand and pulled the huge diamond from her ring finger. "Let's get rid of this shall we?"

"I should return it," she mused.

"Not in person you won't," he said, firmly. He twirled the ring thoughtfully. "Wait here."

He climbed to his feet and moved towards a chest in the corner. He rummaged through it until he found a small box and returned to kneel on the floor beside her. He flipped the lid and turned it to face her. "This was my mother's," he said.

MC looked at his face, surprised to see him looking so shy. She couldn't recall a time she had ever seen Sebastian shy. Then, she looked in the box. Inside was a silver ring set with a pretty emerald, a tiny diamond each side of it.

"It's not as big as the one you were wearing," Sebastian said.

"It's beautiful," she said immediately. And it was. Not flashy, not heavy, not a statement. Beautiful, and sentimental to him.

"Would you wear it?" He asked. She met his gaze, lips parted. "As my wife."

He honestly had to stop stealing her breath like this, it really couldn't be healthy for a girl.

He smirked, his eyes playful. "You could come and see the world with me. I think it might look even more beautiful with you beside me."

She smiled. "How can I say no to that?"

"Quite easily," he said. "But I would rather you said yes."

She looked down at his mother's pretty ring and held out her hand, fingers spread a little. "I suppose you had better make sure it fits then."

His fingers shook as he took the ring from the box and slipped it on to her finger. Of course, it was a perfect fit. He smiled. "It's like it was waiting for you."

She took hold of his shirt front, fingers gripping hold of him like she had back in Hogsmeade. "Now, where were we?" She asked.

His lips curved into that delicious smile she loved so much. "Allow me to refresh your memory," he said.

His mouth claimed hers as if he never intended to stop, and she didn't want him to. Ever.

Click HERE for part 2

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #blueraineshadows

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