#i saw parallels and blacked out

[hitokiri-izou]

How Black Swan led the dance vs how Acheron led the dance. The purple lighting and sea of stars was Black Swan's stage, and the red wasteland and black shadows was Acheron's. The golden lit one is of course what we, the audience, sees

[constantvariations]

Blake hid her ears seemingly without any consequences, but I think it'd be far more interesting if constantly wrapping her ears in a bow cramped them or affected her hearing. It'd make her choice to pass as human more poignant, and her decision to embrace her faunus traits far more liberating and satisfying

It also makes me wonder how many faunus choose to pass despite the harm they're doing to their bodies and how faunus with traits that can't be hidden, like giant scorpion tails or bat wings, might feel about those than can pass easily

There's so little shown about faunus culture and intercommunity politics and average lives, and it never not makes me sad

[blue-eli]

They grew up on the same island, if Xehanort had been born later they could have been friends ;_;

[justrustandstardust]

i saw an incredible post on tiktok and i wanted to expand on it, because it's genuinely amazing. all the credit to @noesbf on tt for the idea that inspired these thoughts.

geto's character is threaded through with motifs of consumption. he takes things in, whether they be curses or daughters, and is spurred by intense empathy that ends up going in the "wrong" direction once he takes the entire jujutsu world under his wing.

when we're introduced to him in hidden inventory, our first glimpse is of him consuming a curse. he's also alone, in a dark alleyway, a symbolic image that parallels his journey throughout the story. he's a consumptive force, a facet of his being that ultimately leads to his undoing because he consumes the responsibility of "saving" the strong, who are burdened by the weak.

gojo, on the other hand, repels. he's an outward force, extending out a physical barrier that creates distance between his body and the world. where geto invites, gojo rejects. their abilities are constructed as diametrically opposed to one another's.

through the motif of gojo's abilities, this image captures their consume/repel dynamic in a singular shot. after riko's death, gojo leans into red, which repels. he focuses on growing stronger and in doing so, isolates himself from the world (and subsequently, geto). on the other hand, geto leans into blue, which aligns with the consumptive nature of his character. he harbours riko's death inside of himself and it festers, like a curse.

black holes are all-consuming vacuums. they subsume everything around them and create an inescapable vortex— once you're pulled in, you're never getting out. it will literally eat you and in doing so, makes you an everlasting part of it.

white holes, on the other hand, function in opposition to black ones along the same axis. where black holes pull, white holes push. nothing can enter them; they're doomed to a lonely eternity because of the force that holds the universe at a distance. nothing outside of it can affect what goes on within, yet it affects everything around it.

however, white holes can be subsumed by black holes. while nothing can enter them, if a white hole were to cross paths with a black hole, its consumptive force is so powerful that it would eat them too.

after geto and gojo experience a rapture in their relationship, gojo withdraws from the world, holding everyone at a literal and figurative distance. yet, even while he's alone, he's endlessly drawn towards geto. his eyes are bound but his soul isn't— it's tied to the piece of him inside of someone else, and gojo visibly feels the pull.

white/black holes also correspond to the colours associated with gojo and geto's characters (they align with their yin/yang dynamic, where yin (black) symbolizes darkness & the moon and yang (white) symbolizes light & the sun).

yin/yang are more than two halves; they form an indivisible whole. they become one another: light turns to dark, the moon replaces the sun in the sky, life transitions into death only to be born as life again.

if two celestial bodies exert oppositional forces upon each other, they function in equilibrium. geto's consumption was growing alongside gojo's repelling, reaching an event horizon when he took the lives of 112 villagers and forcing the two of them out of equilibrium. he continued to consume (curses, money, vulnerable people through his cult) until he died and took gojo's soul with him.

consumption can only exist if there's a repellant force pushing back. geto and gojo are not opposites, instead, they each contain the other— every yin has yang within it and vice versa.

they are borne of each other, they are unknowable without the other. they are more than matching; together, they are complete.

[amaranthineghost]

| EVERY GODDAMN INCH OF YOUR SKIN IS MINE ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader

ꕥ summary: he can't stand her, but he can't keep his eyes off her

ꕥ authors note: I tried to make their thoughts parallel? if that makes sense. whenever it's focused on lando, it says his feelings or thoughts, and then to the reader, it's repeated in a way. so if it's repetitive, it's purposeful. also this was so like awkward to write ?? how do people do this all the time? and I would've gotten this out sooner but black friday shifts kicked my ass sooooo. gonna focus on requests after this :3 (last half unrevised because I wanted to get this out so I might edit some errors)

ꕥ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol, etc.

HE COULDN'T STAND HER. from her mere existence to the tiniest detail of her. from the way she carried herself to the freckled skin of her body. the way she wore her hair, the dip in her skin just above her thighs. the curvature of her spine. her god-awful voice that came out of her pink, pouty lips. her half-lidded, tired eyes that had the color of pools of honey when they basked in the light.

he fucking hated it.

the way her hips swayed more than usual and her hands delicately grasped the handrail as she sauntered down the steps to the party. she wasn't apart of it before and she wouldn't be now. he would make sure of it. eventually.

his eyes burned into her even, pale skin. he fucking hated how she acted so oblivious. the way her body wore the blue, striped brandy melville shorts. how they rode up her figure and clung to her in seemingly all the right places. the tiny piece of cloth, that he would barely consider a shirt, exposing the valley of her back when it was naturally arched just slightly.

the way her dark eyes scanned the crowd, occasionally catching a streak of light. the way her lips barely parted. her lashes fluttering as she blinked painfully slow as he watched her. he could've swore she was in slow motion.

she looked out of place. he couldn't stand it. he couldn't stand the eyes on her, glancing over their shoulders. but he was one of those pairs of eyes.

and so were his friends who surrounded him, but he paid no attention to them. his eyes were on her. they had been ever since he caught that first glimpse of her.

he always swore he couldn't stand her, he repeated it more times than his friends could count. he swore he hated her, but his friends saw the way he looked at her.

he always cursed them, muttering that he looked at her with disgust, contempt, hatred. and sure, they saw that.

but there was always something hidden in the glint of his eyes that they couldn't even identify. though they'd never mention it to him.

they'd never question when he would tune out the world to keep his eyes on her. the first time it happened, they'd teased him relentlessly, but got brushed off by him. they wouldn't tease him anymore. not in his presence anyways. more behind closed doors and in light-hearted manner about his silly infatuation.

and not only did they know there was always something more, but they knew how to push the right buttons to prove it. and the way to do it was simply by conversing with the girl, or speaking about her in his vicinity.

he'd always bark back at their remarks about her. telling them to quit, or get lost. because only he was allowed to say such things.

and when they'd raise their hands in drunken defense, laughing it off as they held a beer bottle in their hands, he scoffed at their behavior.

she wasn't his. he reminded them unfailingly, even though he acted like it.

but just because she didn't belong to him, it didn't mean anyone else could have her. he made sure of it. he always did.

she laughed breathlessly, a red flush to her face as she kept the corners of her lips upturned. she was rather engaged in the conversation before her with the tall gentleman she knew as george russell. though she knew he had a girlfriend, so the interaction was nothing more than catching up with one another.

they'd known each other for years, being introduced to the other by their mutual relationship, carmen.

even though she reiterated numerous times that the brit was nothing, but a brother to her, she knew a certain someone would always make a deal out of it.

the interaction between the two lasted no more than a few minutes when george had tapped his finger on her shoulder and lazily pointed behind her, "you've got a secret admirer," he'd joke, shaking his head with a smile before taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage. his curled hair lightly bounced as he did so.

she twisted her upper body. her eyes flickered between faces and bodies to find him, searching relentlessly.

there he was.

with his drink in his hand, his eyes bore into hers so uncomfortablely, she felt chills down her spine. he swore he could see the goosebumps rising on her skin from where he sat, and he would be lying if he said he didn't feel his pants get tighter.

she despised him.

she hated how he'd always find her in a room and never lose her. he'd scare off any guy that even came within ten feet of her, but wouldn't even come as close himself.

she hated the way his eyes were so green, like fresh cut grass, or like the leaves of evergreen trees in winter. the way the light hit them and how his pupils turned to pins, revealing the gold ring of his eye.

she hated his damn skin. the perfect evenness of his tanned flesh. the way his veins were so perfect, like he had lightning from the sky in his very hands. and how they branched up his arms, stopping just as they got to his bicep.

though as much as she loathed when he would intimidate potential hotties who tried to win her over, part of her would be thankful for all the times his eyes were on her. especially with unwanted presences. she had that to thank him for.

a blurred hand waved in front of her face, breaking the contact between her and norris. she breathed a sigh of relief when she once again looked at george.

"and you're telling me you guys hate each other?" he scoffed and shook his head, "bullshit."

he muttered the last thing under his breath, striding away, which prompted her to look back at the green-eyed brit. biting her bottom lip, her eyes travelled down his arms and lightning struck veins. she noticed the dark, silver rings on his fingers and she would be lying if she said her stomach didn't have butterflies.

his jaw clenched as she practically eye-fucked him, god she made it difficult. rolling his tongue over the inside of his cheek, he raised his glass to his mouth. a smirk pulled on the corner of his lips at the thought of her getting turned on merely by his arms alone.

his hand tightened around the object, so harshly it could've shattered. he watched a guy strut his way to his girl.

what? what was he saying, she isn't his. he rubbed his eyes, assuring himself it was the alcohol talking for him.

by the time he focused his vision upon her again, the scumbag he didn't even know had reached her.

to him, it was one thing if he knew them, it was another when he didn't and that's what made him angry. he could trust another driver to back off.

he bit his tongue painfully between his teeth, he could've drawn blood. he was debating on what to do. normally, he would stand from afar, but this wasn't a normal circumstance. he was fed up of the line of guys that pushed and scrambled to even get a chance to say a word to her.

his glass slammed down on the table, the cool alcohol splashing up and back down onto the table and some on his hand. it made the people around him flinch, and his friends raised brows. he wouldn't see, they knew where his eyes belonged. and probably his heart too.

he huffed a dramatic sigh. he pushed himself from the elevated table, the cushioned stool he sat on scraped painfully loud against the wooden floors. but he didn't care. he wanted her. he wanted her away from any guys, at least.

so when he stood up so abruptly, shoving past his friends who threw whistles his direction as he charged to her. he ignored the sounds of their cheers, tuning them out as usual as he tunnel-visioned on her. he swore he saw red.

it took all of three seconds for him to manifest behind her, he towered over her petite frame. but instead of his gaze being on the back of her head, he glared at the guy before her.

the guy noticed lando before she did, but she knew when his arm spread around her back, his forearm folding across the skin of her collarbones. she felt his fingers graze the base of her neck and he played with the gold necklace she had clasped. chills falling down each vertebrae of her spine as his chest pressed against her back.

lando looked like he could kill. he would, and he might.

with a harsh shove to the shoulder, lando told the guy, "back off."

the guy raised his hands in defense, drunkenly muttering a slur of words inaudible to their ears. lando nodded his head to the side, signaling him to get out and the guy stumbled away.

watching lando's behavior and demeanor, other guys in the vicinity took the intiative to scurry away. they didn't want a fight. he did though.

she felt the flush of anger rise in her body as she watched all the guys in the general proximity to her and lando flee. potential and non-potential hotties alike. her tongue rolled across her cheek, and she sighed heavily.

she grasped at the wrist that held her to him. it was warm, contrast to the cold dangling of bracelets and few charms that decorated it. the frigid feeling of his jewelry sent shivers through her arm and down her body, residing in her stomach, more than she would care to admit.

she peeled his arm off her. the warmth that was spread across her chest left when his tanned skin did. but her heart remained fuzzy. why?

she faced him. an obviously unpleasant expression written all over her face. but she still held his wrist in her hand.

"what the hell was that, lando?" she looked up at him through her lashes, but venom flecked through her eyes. he studied the creases in her skin while she furrowed her brows at him, he knew the look. he knew it too well. he would be lying if he said his stomach didn't do a flip.

"what was what?" he muttered in a way that made her think he had a few too many drinks. that he was acting on the alcohol, but really, he was staring at her. he wouldn't admit it though. never.

"what's wrong with you, norris?" she exclaimed to him. her hands lifted, taking his arm up with her as they slapped back down to her thighs, "im not doing this with you. you always do this."

she dropped his wrist and turned around to storm off back upstairs but his hand caught her wrist this time. he pulled her back, her shoulder colliding with the bare of his chest, due to his white shirt that had a few too many buttons undone.

"do what?" his demeanor changed when he clenched his jaw. her strong energy that came at him weakened as she watched the muscles on his cheek. she pursed her lips, her tongue gliding against her teeth.

she glanced around uncomfortablely, noticing the gather of gazes from different groups they'd collected with his shenanigans. she shifted in her stance.

he noticed this. he knew the shift of her behavior when she didn't like something. he knew her like the back of his hand. he hated it, but loved it at the same time.

he'd understood the thought of this conversation being heard by those who surrounded them, it was like there was no escape. but he would create one.

with his hand still grasping her, he dragged her through the crowd. he had shoulder-checked practically everyone he pushed through to get back to the stairs. she nearly lost him in the crowd due to the height of some of the party-goers.

but when they'd reach the stairs, she thought that the pull-along would abruptly end—she was wrong.

she knew how to walk up stairs. she thought it was stupid of him to keep leading her through her own house. he didn't even know where her room was.

except he did. so when he barged into her room, pulling her in front of him to shut and lock the door behind him, she confronted him.

"what is your problem?" she spoke so outwardly now and her voice barely echoed off the walls. she nearly flinched when he took just a few steps to reach the position in which she stood.

"you. you are my fuckin' problem." he spoke lowly, but god, she felt herself turn to putty as he kept striding towards her until her back pressed the cold wall.

she looked up at him and gulped, staying silent, which prompted him to continue speaking.

"you are my problem because you can't stop talking to every single goddamn guy in the world," his head leaned closer, their foreheads nearly touching. she felt like she was getting scolded, maybe she was. maybe she kind of liked it.

but she wouldn't dare admit it.

"and parading around in these-" his finger hooked the waistband of her shorts, pulling them away from her body and then releasing it to slap back onto her skin, "-slutty little shorts doesn't fucking help."

"fuck you, norris." she spat back, their forehead touching and noses grazing. but she didn't anticipate the hand that settled on her neck. the pretty lightning of veins that became more prominent.

she felt his fingers pressured the sides of her neck, her heart rate increasing dramatically. she felt like jelly in his hands, molded into shape.

he scoffed, 'tsk'ing at her words as he shook his head with a smirk. a smirk from him was never good.

he looked into her eyes, a lustful glint revealed with the streak of light, "maybe I'll just have to fuck the attitude out of you."

he watched the way her pupils dilated, the already dark of her eye becoming black as the words left his mouth. she felt a feeling of desperacy between her thighs.

he knew he had power over her. he didn't know he had this much. and just to prove it, he slid his finger up her neck, near her jaw for a pulse. a fast one.

he chuckled lowly, it sounded evil.

he looked in her eyes as his hand slide up the length of her neck, resting just as her jaw as his thumb caressed along the line. his forehead pressed against her.

a phantom feeling of his lips grazing hers, but not closing the space. not yet. not without.

"is it okay?." he asked simply. and she nodded against him.

but it wasn't good enough. maybe for others it would be, but not him. he needed to hear it. confirmation.

"words." was all he said, but she got the memo, rolling her eyes slightly, but nonetheless.

" 's okay-"

it was all he needed. he closed the gap of their lips within milliseconds. the suddenness of the warm flesh against her lips incited a small gasp, which split her lips just enough for him to intrude her mouth with his tongue.

she didn't fight with him. she knew he would win. he always does. even if the odds were never in his favor, he'd play the right cards.

but she was desperate. desperate for the taste of his faded spearmint gum and booze from his mouth in hers. it might've been an odd combination of flavor for anyone else, but to her, it made sense. to her, it was what she's been searching for.

their lips molded together. they were made for no one else but each other, at least that's what it felt like.

lando's other hand traveled down the exposed skin of her side, feeling the rising goosebumps. she felt him smirk against her lips and with the hand tangled in his curly hair, she tugged lightly. she felt the vibrations of his groans in response to her actions.

but it didn't stop his hand that traveled down her waist, and then hips, and then her thigh. she felt the smooth of his palms and fingertips as they parted her legs slightly, coming to rest on the inner most part of her thigh.

she felt her heart thump in her chest, the rising excitement in her body and the want to be touched by him. only him. she hadn't realized how much she could have wanted this to happen until now.

how often she'd find herself on the bed, that laid barely ten feet away, under plush covers with her skin covered in sweat, baby hairs that never grew out sticking to her forehead. how often she'd find herself saying his name rather than anyone else as she had her hands between her thighs, the hand she pictured to be his. like his hand is about to be.

his hand creeping up her skin, teetering on the edge of her laced panties under her striped shorts. he dipped his fingers around the hem before pulling away, teasing the idea of giving into what she had fantasized. but he wouldn't know she got off to the thought of him.

and she wouldn't know he did too, letting her name slip past his lips one too many times while he satisfied himself with her in mind. one too many times too loud too.

their lips split from each other, their heavy breaths only heard by the two of them, and they could still hear the bass of the music that raved downstairs.

her head found his shoulder, pressing herself into the white linen button-up that unfortunately covered his torso. the hand in his hair remained, tugging at his curls every time he did something she liked. her other arm snaked around the back of his neck for support.

he smirked. he hadn't done much yet, and he wanted to keep messing with her mind.

though, lando wanted to give her some satisfaction, so he ran his finger along her clothed core, shaking his head at the strangled moan that slipped past her lips.

pressing the side of his face to hers, she felt his breath pan across her ear, " 'm going to need you to be quiet for me, love. can you do that?"

butterflies in her stomach, her head shook desperately, but once again, it wasn't enough for lando.

"words, darling," his lips met the skin below her ear, his hand slipping beyond the cloth barrier. he felt the heat that radiated from between her thighs, ghostly touching her.

"f-fuck," she groaned, clenching the hair between her fingers, "yes."

"good girl," he smirked against her skin, she felt it but she was too desperate to say anything to prolong what she needed from him.

two of his fingers ran across her cunt painfully slow, feeling how wet she was for him. it was an ego boost to have her like putty in his hand.

her thighs clenched together at the contact, a strained groan caught in her throat as she bit her lip. she knew she was desperate, but she didn't expect herself to melt like this for him.

he lifted her leg apart from the other, supporting it with his hand on the backside of her knee.

lando teased her a bit more, enjoying the struggling sounds that managed to escape her sporadically. eventually, he slipped his fingers all the way into her cunt, feeling his knuckles press her skin. with his thumb, he teased her clit, practically sending her over the edge

he felt her walls clench around him as he remained unmoving for a few seconds for her to collect herself, only to be ruined again as he thrusted his fingers slowly. she struggled to keep it to herself, her eyes were screwed shut and her lip could've bled from how hard she bit it.

but when he picked up the pace, she was gone. she couldn't keep quiet, letting out her moans into his white button tee, which somewhat muffled them.

his pace remained steady, and he could tell she was reaching her point after a while when her moans upped an octave and her clenching around him.

it felt like heaven, a feeling she could've never achieved with her own two hands, she hadn't. but he did.

he slowed his fingers as she came down, pulling out of her cunt and panties. she raised her head and looked at him as sweat coated her forehead, causing those same baby hairs to stick to her skin.

they stared each other in the eyes as he raised his hands, covered in her slick, his mouth. he stuck open his tongue, running his fingers across it and licking them before smirking at her face.

"you taste sweet, darling," he pushed strands of hair behind her ear with his other hand.

he picked her up, his hands under her thighs supporting her weight while he walked a few steps to her messy, unmade bed. he threw her gently, the springs of her bed squeaking quietly against the shift of weight.

she laid, propped on her elbows as lando pressed his knees into the bed. his hands sunk the bed below him as he practically crawled on top of her. it prompted her to lay fully on her back, her hair sprawled on the piled blanket behind her.

one of his hands came to rest at the side of her head. pushing into the bed, he pulled himself closer to her as he dipped his head into the crevice of her neck, biting lightly on her skin.

she'd let out little winces at the feeling, her hands finding the buttons of his shirt, though it seemed half were already undone. but when she spread his shirt to the side, she ran her fingers down his chest, through his light abs that twitched under her cold fingertips. she smiled softly at the happy-trail on his stomach, tracing down it and along to his v-line. he groaned against her neck.

she fetched his belt around her fingers, working the clasp desperately to get it undone. she needed him and he knew that. which is why he is letting her do the work to get to him.

when she'd finally undo it, she pulled it from the loops, tossing it aside on her carpeted floor. she focused back on his dark jeans, fumbling with getting the button undone.

he noticed this, and only because he wanted it as badly as she did, he disconnected his lips from her flesh, momentarily standing off the bed to slip from his jeans, and pulling off the unbuttoned shirt from his body. they laid on the floor to get cold.

and now, to him, she was too clothed. he needed to see her skin, her curves. he wanted her. he wouldn't lie, not at this point.

so he'd crawl back across her, his bare skin appealing to her. his hands landed on her hips as he lifted them in the air. his fingers curled around the elastic of her shorts and panties as he dragged them down leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. like time had stopped and they were the only ones moving.

he'd let the cloth get to her ankles before letting her finish the work, advancing back up her body to rid the tiny top he barely deemed appropriate for anyone other than him to see.

he pulled it over her head, her arms spread above her head as the cold air greeted her chest. he wasn't surprised she didn't have anything under the top, he didn't expect her to in her own house.

he exhaled shakily at the sight of her chest. she was perfect to him. he admired her features from above. the curves of her body that dipped in the right places, the goosebumps scattered on her skin, her hard nipples from the cold air.

he pulled her to towards him by her hips, her wet cunt colliding with the tent that had built in his tent. their groans synced as they grinded against each other, the other thing stopping them was the cloth of his boxers. her clit was sensitive against the rough cotton and she whimpered softly.

he felt the cold sensation of her slick dampen his underwear, practically throbbing to feel her, to have her. low groans escaped his lips, his fingertips digging into her bare hips, turning her skin white.

he, unadmittedly, was desperate for her. he could've torn the cloth of his boxers, but he didn't care. he had money for more but he didn't have this moment forever. he wished he did.

dripping with precum, he stroked himself a few times, looking at her, he could've gotten himself off just to the visual of her.

he moved back over her body, lining himself when she pripped herself on her elbows, "no condom?"

he shook his head, mumbling as he pushed her shoulders back down, " 's fine, I'll buy you plan b, jus' need you," he admitted it. he really did.

she wouldn't lie when she said she needed him too. she had for a while. he seemed to be the answer to most of her problems.

he'd slowly push the tip in, watching her expression closely as she winced. he dipped back to her neck, kissing the skin and leaving more small marks she knew she would curse him for in the morning. but it helped.

it'd also help when she'd dig her fingernails into the even skin of his back, now ruined by red scratches he would stare at for hours after. he would've proudly displayed them if he could.

he shushed her in her ear, slowing pushing himself further into her. he let out of a low moan against her neck. he stayed like that for ten seconds, relishing in the capsulating feeling of taking her.

when he'd move, his thrusts started slow and even, he was cautious. the skin of his hips pressed into the back of her thighs every time he'd push himself all the way in, forcing her to take all of him.

and when her small cries turned to whimpers and moans, letting out strings of curses and his name, every so often, he'd take it as a sign to start thrusting quicker.

moans got louder and the sound of their skin contacting filled the room. he'd force her to quiet down with his hand on her mouth, muffing her unfortunately so pretty moans against it. her head fell back with her chest arching against his.

"eyes on me, pretty girl," he'd manage through heavy breaths, looking into her dark and very dilated eyes. his forehead came to rest against hers and watched her face. her mouth was open, he could feel it against his hand. her skin was flushed and red, skin sweating, making her hair stick to her face. he couldn't be more turned on.

he knew she was close, he was too. like earlier, she clenched around him, her mouths loudening under his hand, increasing in pitch.

she knew he was close by the uneven pace and his thrusts, his eyes becoming half-lidded and his lips glued to her skin

with his free hand, he rubbed circles on her clit, which seemed to set her over the edge as he watched her eyes almost roll back, feeling her walls clench around him.

"fuck," he groaned as he came with her. it was hard not to when he had waiting for this for a long time. too long.

his thrusts slowed greatly as their highs rode away. he felt onto the space or the bed beside her, panting heavily as they laid side by side.

the reality that they'd just fucked set it. they were supposed to hate each other, everyone knew that. but everyone also knew the tension between the two was more than just one feeling of hatred.

he'd disprove his hatred when he'd clean her up gently, with a damp, microfiber towel he'd stolen from the bathroom. he'd pick out a new shirt for her that covered her significantly better than her previous one. he'd dress her, wash her up and put her in bed.

he'd already gotten dressed against when he'd tuck the blanket by her side, he went to walk away, but the sound of her tired voice called to him, "lando, can you stay?"

her voice was sleepy, her eyes were glazed as she laid on her side, but her back was to him. he stopped in his tracks and turned back around. his belt was in his hand, but he'd dropped it immediately. disgarding his shirt and jeans, he dragged his feet against the carpet to the other side of the bed.

when he'd slip into bed, before he could even pull the covers back atop him, she had her arms around him, her face against his chest, and her leg around his waist.

his eyes softened and the warmth of having her against him wasn't so bad. he actually loved it. he would admit that.

he went to bed with a smile on his face and his girl.

the light had shown through the window, the lacy curtains, spilling onto his face. he grimaced at the light, groaning as he sat up in the bed.

they had separated during the night, but her legs remained across his stomach, he ran his hand across her leg, caressing it.

he yawned, taking in the nice, early morning when the door to her room had opened. he'd see his friends looking curiously around the room, seemingly looking for him.

when they'd see him, they silently cheer and giggle. they were definitely going to use this against him. about how right they were.

he chucked a pillow at them, which prompting them to fler before he causes harm. the door shut quietly and he laid back down with his hands under his head.

a smile crossed his face as he felt her against him again.

[seattlesellie]

don’t cross the line

pairing: ellie williams x reader

warnings: smut (mdni), cheating, angst, mutual masturbation, just morally wrong, mentions of alcohol

Parties in Jackson fucking suck.

It’s not like youve ever been at a different party, but still. You’ve read about them in the little magazines from the old days you found on patrols. Small blurbs about meaningless celebrities, a concept you barely even understood, drinking themselves to oblivion. Paparazzi pictures of young starlets in black limousines, rappers getting coked up in dark bathrooms. You never really got it. Parties in Jackson were like a parallel universe.

“They must have made that up” you told Dina, your best friend and trusty patrol partner. “Nope” she shrugged. “Heard that Paris Hilton girl was really like that.”

Paris hilton would have hated Jackson parties. A bunch of old people, and a handful of young ones, dancing around to the beat of an old country song, if you could even call that a beat.

You could have responded with a simple “No thanks” when Jesse had invited you to tonights party. You could have told him you were tired, busy, sick, he would have left you alone - But you didn’t, alas, this is how you found yourself here. Alone, in an old barn, listening to the batshit insane, drunk ramblings of an old fart named Seth.

“Ripped that fella’s throat with just one move” Seth mumbled, laughing stupidly at his own words.

“Go — got him real good n’dirty, I tell ya”

Whoever said “respect the elderly” clearly never met Seth. His breath reeked of whiskey and cigarettes that he traded for food and supplies, and my god, he was standing so close you could see the veins in his yellow tinted eyeballs. You really were too polite for your own good, you thought to yourself, because Ellie would have shoved him away already.

Ellie.

You felt like slapping yourself in the face. What the hell does she have to do with this? Why can’t you just let it fucking go already? It truly was desperate, and pathetic, and borderline immoral, the amount you spent thinking about that girl.

So what if she used to be your best friend. So what if she was the first girl who ever made you feel something, even if it was too late. She has a girlfriend, and she’s not thinking about you, she doesn’t care, maybe never has, probably never will. She left you for her, with that useless excuse of “Cat doesn’t like it when we hang out” followed by a pathetic “We can do it in secret, though.”, when she saw your eyes turn glossy and your breath hitch up. Fuck her, and fuck those memories. Fuck all the nights you spent together telling each other your deepest and darkest desires, and especially fuck that time you almost-

“Hey”

You'd recognize that voice anywhere.

A royal blue flannel button up shirt appeared at the corner of your eye.

“Mind if I steal her for a sec, Seth?”

She sounded raspy, laced with that velvety layer her voice had adorned whenever she had a sip or more of Whiskey. When you drank together for the first time, at the ripe age of sixteen, next to a big bonfire and the ever so familiar scent of pine lacing your sense of smell, you told her that she sounds different when she’s drunk. More mature, somehow. Less fidgety, slower, sultrier. She replayed that sentence over and over again in her head. “Sultry”, she whispered to herself. “I sound sultry.”

Seth cleared his throat, a deep cough escaping his lungs.

“Of course, pretty girl like her shouldn’t be around me for too long, might start acting all wild!” The old man threw his hands in the air, and disappeared somewhere in the scarce crowd.

Your heartbeat was faster than normal, but that’s not new. Not when she was around, anyways.

Ellie stood by your side, hands crossed over her chest. She had a glass of Rum in her hand, not Whiskey. Funny.

“You’re a Rum type of girl now?” you questioned, never meeting her gaze. If you bothered to look to your side, you would have noticed she was staring.

“Fame’s changed me, I guess” She responded, mixing the fluid in her glass.

One week ago, Ellie went on patrol. One week ago, Ellie killed more infected in one go than anyone else had in years. She was the town’s hero, the infected slayer. Cat even made her a badge. She wasn’t wearing it now.

“Cat or fame?” you quietly mumbled under your breath.

You weren’t spectacularly brave with your words, but one glass of presumably expired white wine made a simple girl go very far.

“Hah. Funny” she scoffed dryly, earning her Rum another pointless swirl.

“You’re the towns hero, I’m the towns comedian, we’re both pretty famous, i’d say.”

Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the wall. She squinted her eyebrows slightly, humming in response. You looked over at her, for just a second, noticing the dim light reflecting in her eyes. She was a sight to behold, the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. You wish she knew that. You wish you could be the one to tell her.

You inhaled deeply, and it came out so shaky that when you exhaled you were terrified she heard the tremor in your body.

“Thank’s for the save, by the way” you said quietly, apologetic. You even smiled politely, which was absolutely for nothing, because she wasn’t looking at you, avoiding your gaze like the plague.

It’s not like Ellie and you didn’t talk since that night she told you she couldn’t see you anymore. It’s been two whole years. You had to talk, you had to communicate somehow, even if it was through polite smiles and dry conversations during shared patrols. Hell, you even went to Cat’s birthday party you somehow were invited to. Dina was practically on her knees begging you to come with her, and who could say no to Dina when she looked at them with those puppy eyes that could tug at a monsters heartstrings?

“Yeah, no problem. That man’s a fucking dickhead” Ellie scoffed, leaned against the bar and crossed her legs.

“Where’s Cat?” you questioned. Are you sure you only had one glass of wine?

“She’s not here” Ellie responded dryly, seemingly annoyed at your question. She almost tsk’d when you asked. She didn’t look surprised by your rude antics, maybe you got like this more often than you thought. How about that time you told her you’re surprised Cat didn’t pack her a sandwich with a sticker on it’s wrapper during patrol?

“I can tell… why?” you inquired. Your own voice was deeper too, it almost matched hers.

“Didn’t wanna come” Ellie said, stuffing a hand inside her pocket. She was uncomfortable, clearly, and wanted, needed, to make you shut up. It’s not because your presence annoyed her, It’s because she knew she was wrong. She knew she fucked up when she ditched you, and if only you knew how it was eating her alive every day. She had to do it, because in her eyes, she would have done something much worse if she hadn’t.

Being around you when she wasn’t with Cat was hard enough, because she knew she could never have you, that you’d never want her. Not if you knew. You were too smart, and too good, to ever want to be with her. Cat was easy, she didn’t ask too many questions. She’d lay there for Ellie when Ellie told her to, and she would agree to stop a conversation when it got too personal. When Ellie cried at night, and woke up sweating, she didn’t ask why. She let it go, and Ellie knew you never would have. You’d fucking hate her if you knew. She could have saved the world — and she didn’t. He didn’t let her. The wounds she had were too deep, they were clawing and tugging at her skin from the inside. Ellie was a tortured soul, and you didn’t deserve that. That’s why she left, and maybe, that’s why she was here right now.

“That’s too bad” you mumbled quietly. You did your best to make it sound genuine, and you failed miserably.

Ellie scoffed.

“Yeah”

You shifted slightly, and walked over to stand right in front of her. You met her eyes for the first time. Those stupid, beautiful emerald eyes.

Ellie looked down, and looked up at you. She swallowed deeply.

“Anyways” you sighed. “Think I’m gonna go”

“Already?” she questioned, slamming her Rum filled glass on the bar counter.

“Yeah, I’m cold and it sucks in here, so” you said, and smiled politely. It really was freezing, and talking to her like this was painful enough.

“Let me walk you” she blurted.

What?

“Huh?” walk you where? the door? you knew where it was.

She tugged at the loose string on the bottom of her button up. It was ironed, where did Ellie find and iron? Did Maria do it for her? Town hero perks?

“Let me walk you home” she repeated, her voice carrying a touch of insistence. Once again, you found yourself captivated by her burning gaze, those eyes that seemed to hold secrets yet to be unveiled.

“I can walk home alone, Ellie” You huffed, ever the stubborn.

“No” she exclaimed.

“Maria said it’s been pretty dangerous”

“I can have my own back, you know, I’m not an idiot” You scoffed. You knew she didn’t think you were an idiot, why did she have to walk you home?

“I know that — Just wanna make sure you’re safe”

“Gosh, Ellie thank you! thank you!” You said in the most high pitched voice you could fathom. “The town’s hero is at it again, everybody!” You exclaimed, slightly raising your voice, earning both of you a few curious looks from the townspeople.

Ellie wasn’t embarrassed. She was just annoyed. And she wanted to slap you in the face for being so stubborn.

She grasped your arm with an unexpected forcefulness, pulling you along as she swiftly guided you outside. In the process, you accidentally bumped into a few people, hastily muttering a string of apologetic "sorry" and "excuse me" as you hurriedly tried to navigate through the crowd. You attempted to resist her firm grip, trying to free yourself with a burst of strength, but you found yourself overpowered by her determination.

Once she managed to pull you outside, she finally released her grip on your arm, allowing you a brief respite from her firm hold.

“You are not walking me anywhere, Williams” you scoffed. What made her think you needed her help?

“You’ve always been so fucking stubborn” she turned to face you. Her hands were on her hips. Her face wore the same expression she did when you went on your first patrol together, when you insisted on going left, even though she knew you had to go right.

“I’m walking now” you stepped away, and started walking. “And if you followed me — you wouldn’t be walking me home, you’d be stalking me” you exclaimed as you backed away.

Ellie quickly followed your pace, her boots stomping on the snow covered ground.

“You are”

Step

“So fucking annoying”

This was the longest conversation you’ve had with Ellie in two whole years. It felt like nothing’s changed, except for everything.

The following ten minutes were torturous. You were walking fast, Ellie right behind you. No words were exchanged between you, the silence enveloping the crisp air as you both walked in silence. Your attention turned inward, focusing on the sensation of the cold air filling your lungs with each breath, and the soft sound of Ellie's boots pressing against the creaking snow beneath her.

You finally arrived at your place. It’s grey exterior blanketed in a pristine layer of snow. Every inch of its structure was adorned with a delicate coat of white.

You turned around to face her.

Ellie’s skin appeared slightly flushed, with a rosy tinge highlighting her cheeks, and her nose bore a noticeable reddish hue, hinting at the crisp winter air. She didn’t say a word.

You took a deep breath. She looked cold.

“Want me to make you some tea?” you questioned. You didn’t mean to let her in, and she didn’t expect you to ask. She looked surprised, her eyebrows turned slightly upwards.

“M’fine” Ellie insisted, her voice resolute despite the chill in the air. She sought warmth by tucking her hands deep into the pockets of her dark green coat.

“Jesus, Ellie — Just come inside” you urged, the concern evident in your voice.

“If walking you was stalking wouldn’t coming in be breaking and entering?” she inquired, a sarcastic tone lacing her words.

“Just —“ you uttered, your voice trailing off as you reached for the doorknob, slowly opening the door.

“Come inside”

"Fine," Ellie relented, her resolve wavering as she decided to follow in your footsteps.

The house welcomed you with its cozy warmth, though slightly disorganized in its appearance. Yet, amidst the subtle chaos, it remained a comforting sanctuary, always your safe space. Being there brought a sense of solace, as if the troubles of the outside world faded away. And with Ellie's presence by your side, an inexplicable tingling sensation spread through your being.

You proceeded to heat up some water, carefully attending to the task of preparing tea, a familiar ritual.

Ellie never knew where to sit, or where to stand, so there she was, examining every single one of your movements. The air felt thick, like you could cut the tension with a switchblade.

"Your house looks different," she murmured in a low voice, leaning against the cream-colored wall.

“Bad different?” You questioned, taking out two mugs from the cupboard.

“No, just… more stuff” she murmured.

"Well," you uttered as you gently placed the teabag into the awaiting mug. “You haven’t been here in a while, so”

Ellie hummed in response, and bit her lower lip.

“You’ve kind of changed too.” you murmured.

“Tattoos looking bigger. And you look more tired. Plus, your shirt looks ironed, so maybe you even… showered? Woah.” you teased.

“Fuck, you really are funny huh?” she said, crossing her arms.

“Always were a sucker for my jokes” you responded with a sly smile.

She didn’t mean to say what she said next, because that was like opening a pandora’s box. Or, more like, the gates to hell.

“This is the longest conversation we’ve had in years” Ellie murmured. You handed her the green colored mug, your finger brushing her’s for a second. You both flinched.

“Mhm” you took a sip from your tea. It was still so hot, it burned your tongue.

“And who’s fault is that?” You questioned, raising your eyes to meet her burning gaze. It was incredibly impulsive.

Ellie rolled her eyes. She looked baffled.

“You still don’t get it, do you? She questioned.

“Get what? that your girlfriend doesn’t like me? trust me Ellie, I get that, crystal clear.” You smiled, as you slammed your mug on the counter.

“I’m not doing this right now” she declared, her tone firm and resolute.

Oh, did that sentence burn through you.

“I think you are” you stepped forward to face her. She looked terrified, like a lost puppy. Not so “town’s hero” now. Thank god she wasn’t wearing Cat’s badge, because she would have looked ridiculous.

“I’m not” she said quietly, looking at the floor beneath her.

You felt the ever so familiar lump forming in your throat. She owed you.

“Tell me what it is exactly that I don’t get” you spat. The pent up anger from all these years finally just fucking bursted. She left you. She left you for her, your best fucking friend.

“It’s just funny how she didn’t give a shit about Jesse, or Dina, or anybody! Just fucking me, right? I’m the fucking problem?” you blurted. Your voice was shaky, filled with rage. The tears in your eyes started forming. You didn’t even know how much you were holding it inside of you, it all overflowed, at 2AM, right in your kitchen. Right where she told you she couldn’t see you anymore.

Ellie was frozen, her mouth parted slightly. She was flushed, and it showed. It wasn’t the cold weather anymore, it was you. She didn’t expect this to happen so fast. She came inside for some fucking tea.

That’s when you shoved her. And she didn’t even fucking move.

“Don’t fucking do this to me” she begged. Her voice was desperate, and shaky, and what the fuck was she hiding?

You found yourselves standing uncomfortably close to each other, the proximity palpable. The warmth of her breath gently grazed your forehead, creating a tantalizing sensation that sent a shiver down your spine.

She took a deep breath.

“What I did was bad. But — fuck, Jesse and Dina never slept over, you know that?”

The room fell quiet.

“So?” you whispered. You couldn’t even look at her.

“Don’t do this” she begged. Her eyes were glossy. She looked as if she was about to cry, too. Her chest was pressed up against yours.

“I’m not doing anything” you mumbled quietly. Her body was so warm. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack, and Ellie felt like she already did.

“If I would have stayed… I would have done something… so much worse” she whispered. Her hands were trembling.

“What would you have done?” you whispered against her. Dangerously close now. You could feel her unsteady heartbeat.

“You know” she whispered back. You saw the vein on her neck, how beautifully spattered the freckles on her skin were, like a constellation.

“Please” you begged.

That’s all it took.

Almost.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible. The proximity between your lips was almost intimate, an agonizingly close distance.

“Please” you begged.

Her eyes were dark, breaths unsteady and fast, like she just ran a marathon. Her chest was rising up and down. She’s dreamt of this moment, for so fucking long. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t fuck more people up. She’s done more than enough.

“You don’t know what you fucking do to me” She whispered against your skin. Her eyes were shut closed. If she didn’t see, maybe it would’ve been less wrong. If she didn’t see, maybe Cat wouldn’t either. She could go home, kiss her girlfriend good night. Walk away. But there you were, pressed up against her, making her head spin like a carousel, fogging her brain with your scent, and your lips, and all of the times she pictured you like this, helpless and begging. She never looked at Cat how she looked at you. Cat never made her feel like she could faint at any given moment. Cat was safe, she was a sunny day. You were a thunderstorm, a cloud, soaking her up. When Ellie said she would have done something so much worse, she meant that.

Cat was right when she told her to stay away, she always was. When Ellie begged Cat to stop her ramblings, Cat told her she looks at you like she’s hungry. That it’s disgusting, that she wishes it was her. She was crying, and begging, and she was right. That’s why Ellie knocked on your door that way. One person she could save.

Ellie’s hands were firmly pressed up against the wall, locking you in.

“You dont know…” she whispered.

You whimpered silently at her words. You were aching everywhere, you just needed her to do something.

“Show me” you said, and it came out more as a plead. You were begging her.

Ellie leaned in, drawing her face closer to yours, and your lips delicately brushed against each other. The electrifying touch sent a shiver down your spine, evoking a soft, involuntary moan that escaped your lips. It went straight to her heart, and then slipped right to her cunt.

Her lips were plump against yours. Just barely touching.

She delicately brushed her lips against yours, causing a gentle collision that sent a jolt of electricity through both of you. A shaky breath escaped her mouth.

“Ellie…” you whispered. Ellie, just do it. you can’t take it anymore.

She abruptly slammed her hands against the wall, causing it to tremor ever so slightly. The suddenness of the action startled you, making you jump in response.

“Shit” she huffed.

And her lips weren’t against yours anymore, neither was she.

Ellie backed away. She couldn’t.

Your lips quivered, and there it was. Her precious thunderstorm erupting.

The tears came out hot, and sticky. They ran all over your cheeks. You let out a quiet sob. Ellie was staring, her breaths uneven and her mouth agape. She almost did what shes been dreaming of doing since the moment she saw you. Almost.

your legs betrayed you, giving out completely. You crumbled down onto the floor, unable to stand any longer. With tears welling up in your eyes, you instinctively curled up, bringing your head between your legs as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to consume you.

It was a truly pathetic sight, Ellie towering over your quivering body. It’s been two whole years, and you missed her every single day that passed. It was gnawing at you. Seeing them hand in hand, kissing on the street, making out behind the dumpster. Thinking of Ellie hugging her at night, caressing her skin, touching her everywhere, telling her she loves her, fucking her, tasting her and not you. It should have been you. But it couldn’t be.

If only you knew that when Ellie was between her thighs, you were the only one she thought of. If only you knew Ellie had to bite her lip till it bled to stop from screaming your name. That’s why Ellie always turned off the lights, That’s why Ellie shoved Cat’s face down on the bed with her entire palm when she took her from behind. That’s why she always closed her eyes.

Her body gave up on her, too.

She sat on the cold concrete floor, trying to steady her breaths.

“Look at me” she commanded. It was breathy, and shaky, more of a plea than a real command.

You wiped your tears.

“I can’t” you whispered.

“Please” she begged.

You mustered the strength to lift your face, raising your gaze to meet hers.

“I think about you all the time” you blurted.

She huffed in response. Your soft voice was killing her. She couldn’t even respond. She just watched.

“Ellie…” you whined. The distance between you was torturous. There was so much space, and at the same time, no space at all. You could still feel her lips brushing against yours. You wished you could taste her. She yearned for that even more. She felt like something was chaining her down to the floor, holding her captive.

What you did next, is something Ellie had buried deep inside her darkest fantasies.

You delicately caressed your smooth neckline, doe eyes burning through her’s.

Ellie swallowed deeply.

“What are you doing?” she mumbled, lower than a whisper. Her voice was raspy, and her pupils were blown out. She was imagining, for sure, hallucinating, intoxicated by the picture of you being pressed up against her. It couldn’t be real.

“I need you” you whimpered.

She almost crawled right to you right then and there. Her knees were spread open in front of you. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart felt like it was leaping out of her chest.

“You cant” she insisted. It felt like she tried to convince herself, and not you. You couldn’t. There’s no way.

“I want you” you whispered, lowering your hand to caress your breasts.

Something took over you. Being pent up with frustration for years birthed such a desperate sight, she couldn’t fathom it.

She grunted in response. Do that again and she’d lose her fucking mind.

You cupped your breast.

Ellie threw her head against the wall. She forgot how to breathe. Her nostrils were flared, and she almost slapped herself in order to convince her that this was real. This was happening.

“Holy shit” she wheezed.

“Please” you begged, and squeezed your breast forcefully. Your nippled hardened against the material, so you gave them a twist, sending a bolt of electricity right through your clothed cunt.

Ellie’s mouth was agape. She was transfixed, mesmerized. Her cheeks grew more red by the second. It was so fucking wrong, she almost told you to stop, but she couldn’t. Her voice felt dry and her brain was buzzing. Her ex best friend was so desperate for her she couldn’t even help herself.

The image of Cat went through her head. Cat seeing, walking in. Cat trembling and crying, telling her she told her so. Cat screaming at her that she’s an awful person, that she hurt her, That she should burn in hell.

Then, you took your shirt off.

And Cat was gone.

Her eyes were darting from your tits to your needy eyes. You were giving her that look she only saw in her dreams. That desperate, pathetic twinkle in your eye. She saw a girl look like that in an old porno she found. Ever since, that picture of your face replacing the actresses burned through her memory. She knew it was for her, you were showing her, but she looked like she wasn’t supposed to see, a peeping tom, a pervert. Her cunt twitched inside her tight black boxers. Cat never made her cunt feel like this.

The dainty lace bra adorned your body. you looked like an angel, eyes red from crying, cheeks still wet, chest rising up and down. She wanted to ruin you.

You stopped for a second, looked for a sign to keep going.

The room was silent, the only noises that muttered were your soft whimpers and Ellie’s harsh, uneven breaths.

“Take it off” she whispered. You almost couldn’t believe she said that. You nodded pathetically. She always knew you’d be like this. She imagined you nodding your head frantically, kneeling beneath her and undoing her belt, way too many times she wouldn’t dare to admit. Her heavy breaths were a confession to all of her sins.

You unclasped your bra, your tits spilling out of it with a sigh of relief.

Ellie was hypnotized, fully staring. She remembered the first tine she saw you in a bikini. Jesse noticed she was staring, and he gave her some advice. “Look at the ground or the sky, pretend there’s something super interesting going on there”

She didn’t need to pretend now.

“Fuck” she grunted, feeling her cunt twitch inside her briefs. Her mouth was agape, she wanted those nipples between her teeth. Her tongue slightly moved involuntarily inside her mouth, imitating the kitten licks she’d give your tits if she could. It was truly pathetic. Thank god you couldn’t see. Her fists were clenched, and she was forcing her feet onto the ground. If she pretended something was pulling her in, she wouldn’t crawl towards you and take you like she always wanted.

You toyed with your nipples, rolling them between your fingers, almost as if you read her mind.

“Spit on ‘em” Ellie demanded desperately.

“Ellie…” You whimpered, her voice was making you grow wetter by the second. If you took your pants off, she could see the wet patch that soaked through your panties, making them almost sheer. You were almost embarrassed, but it was too late now.

“Do it” she commanded.

“Do it for me” Ellie begged. She brought a hand up to cup at her perky clothed breast. She imagined it was you, your tits between her fingers. She wanted to squeeze the fat, take it in, spit on it, latch her mouth onto your nipples, slap them as you ride her thigh, or her face, or her whatever the fuck you wanted.

The saliva ran down your chest, droplets flowing at an incredibly slow pace, each and every one of them teasing Ellie, mocking her. Almost there, almost reaching your sensitive nipples. When it finally did, Ellie was breathing so heavy she almost wheezed.

You rubbed the spit all over your tits, glazing your nipples with the liquid, coating them shiny with your saliva - all for her. You were staring at ellie with your mouth open. You moaned at the sensation, making Ellie shift and slightly slide off the wall. She was gone.

“Feels so good” you whined.

“Fucking shit” She huffed. She bucked her hips, searching for that friction. She didn’t do it yet, but oh she will.

“Mhhm” you hummed, a high pitched moan escaping your lips.

Ellie almost went cross eyed.

“Need you, please” You whispered while massaging your breasts. You were squeezing the fat harshly, almost punishing yourself for being such a dirty, desperate girl.

“Show me” She begged, in between breaths.

“Show me how bad - shit”

You cupped your cunt, your hand feeling warm over it. Your clit twitched. Ellie let out a moan so deep, you almost came right then and there, all over your panties.

You circled your clit through your pants, teasing Ellie without even realizing. I can do it, and you can’t! It felt like you were mocking her.

“Take that shit off — fuck” she huffed. Her hand was resting on her thigh, pinching it. Stay down. Don’t crawl, don’t fuck, don’t cheat.

In a matter of six seconds, your pants were on the floor. You crossed your legs together in embarrassment. What if she saw how wet you were?

“Spread” She commanded.

You looked at her stupidity.

“Spread ‘em, please” Ellie begged.

You spread your legs slowly, revealing your soaked white cotton panties to Ellie. Her eyes rolled back at the sight.

“Fucking shit” she grunted.

Her hand met her own cunt and gave it a stinging slap, followed by a desperate grunt. She moved her veiny hand up and down, almost grabbing her pussy. She felt perverted, and sickly, and so, so good. The friction of her hand on her cunt was followed by a string of deep moans, chanting your name like a prayer. She didn’t even know how bad she needed it.

“Wider” She commanded.

You spread your legs so wide your thighs almost hurt. When Ellie saw that wet spot, she lost it.

“So wet” she whispered in disbelief.

“Show me that pussy” She whimpered.

“Show me that fucking pussy”

You moved your panties to the side, the cold air hitting your clit making you flinch. You swore you could cum just from clenching in and out, listening to the obscenities leaving her mouth.

“Holy shit” She moaned, and cupped her cunt forcefully.

“So pretty” she whispered. It was even prettier than she thought, glistening folds and a little puffy button poking out. She needed to see inside, everywhere.

“Spread it with your fingers” She grunted. You parted your lips with your pointer finger and your thumb, wide open for her. She saw how bad you were clenching, begging for something inside. Your puffy clit moved with every pull.

“Wanna fuck you so bad” she groaned, it was killing her.

“Need to see you Ellie, please, please” you begged.

With that whine leaving your mouth, Ellie unzipped her jeans, and pulled down her boxers slowly, revealing you of the most beautiful sight youve ever seen in your life.

Her thighs were creamy, a mound of soft, dark hair adorning her pubis. Her slick was shining on her milky inner thighs from the boxer briefs she took off slightly brushing on them. She was so wet, it almost glistened like a far away star, deep in the galaxy. Her mouth was parted and she looked famished.

Tiny droplets of sweat were shining on her forehead, making her hair stick to her face. She was a panting, desperate mess.

You couldn’t help but slide your hand up your thigh, and started running your fingers through your glistening folds. Finally. “Oh god, Ellie” you moaned. You wished those were her fingers, if you could, if you only could.

Ellie moaned like a porn star at the sight. You thought she might tease herself, might play with her cunt before doing something. She proved you wrong.

She slid two long fingers inside her aching hole, squelching sounds filling the air. She pumped them in and out, fucking herself like a madwoman. Her hungry eyes were fixated on your fingers caressing your needy cunt. Her mouth was watering, borderline drooling, soft “ah!”s escaping her lips.

You circled your clit slowly, and felt your lower stomach leap at the contact. You lapped your slick with your middle finger, and sucked on it. It was obscene. Ellie’s cunt twitched. She almost came.

“Good girl” She groaned at the sight.

“Faster” She commanded, a deep moan escaping her lips.

You fastened your pace, and she was looking you directly in the eyes while pumping her fingers inside her cunt. With every pump, you could see a milky cream coating her fingers, the sight alone made your puffy clit ache with pleasure.

It was so wrong, and obscene, and pathetic, and you almost came.

“Fucking shit — fuck yourself, show me, fuck yourself” She whimpered, fastening her pace as well. The moans that left her mouth were deep, bursting from the inside of her soul.

Her fucking ex best friend.

“E — Ellie m’close” you whined, inserting a finger inside your soaking hole.

“Can see how fucking tight you are - fuck”

“Faster, do it f’me baby faster” She groaned.

The harmony of your moans intertwined, creating an intoxicating symphony.

“Ellie — gonna cum, fuck” You babbled, drool running down your chin. You were so close, eyes rolling to the back of your Ellie filled brain.

“Please fuck me, please fuck me”

“Cu — Fuck, shit, m’cuming” Ellie grunted.

“Say my fucking name” She demanded, her words coming out so sloppy and ridiculous.

“Ellie — Ellie! Please!”

Ellie almost screamed. She wanted to tell you to come for her, wanted to hear the noises youd make, see your face twist and the screams of her name, but she couldn’t help herself, the sight of your desperate cunt and the look on your face, so stupid, so cumdrunk, so pathetic, begging her to fuck you - brought her to the edge. It errupted inside of her like a volcano, pumping and squeezing on her fingers. She rode her orgasm until it tickled and hurt.

When you came, Ellie almost shed a tear.

This wasn’t just wrong.

This was vile.

She pulled up her pants up and left without saying a word, too embarrassed to look you in the face.

When she got home, Cat was sound asleep on her bed. She gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek, and whispered;

“I’m so sorry”

[vidavalor]

The 1827 story explains why it's the last significantly different Aziraphale look we've had to date and it's so romantic...

Aziraphale and Crowley on their 1827 graveyard date below and no tartan yet to be seen, right? And look which one of them is in a bow tie. :)

Aziraphale is still in his brown and beige tones and Crowley in his signature black and red. In this story, one of the elements of it is that Elspeth is less inclined to listen to Aziraphale than Crowley because Aziraphale is English (to the extent that him and Crowley are anything of Earth), while Crowley here has dropped his traditional English accent and adopted a Scottish persona. The English versus Scottish thing here becomes a parallel to Heaven versus Hell. Aziraphale undergoes huge change in this story and winds up on the side of Crowley and Elspeth and Mr. Dalrymple by the end of it. It's after this that he changes his outfit into what we see today and the most signature piece of it is his tartan bow tie, yes?

The first version of this is the one he has on in the 1860s scene, which is bigger and longer but the same colors. The rest (minus the hat) is what he's been wearing ever since. So we're saying that the tartan cravat look was born of 1827 and its colors (beige, blue, red) represent him and Crowley. *His damn tartan collar is fashion saying "our own side" and Aziraphale's been wearing it since after the 1827 scene*... So then they break up in the above scene in the 1860s and Aziraphale still has the tartan cravat on in the 1880s, *while he's making friends at a discreet gentleman's club*...

But by the time we see him in 1941 (and likely for awhile before that), he's settled into the look he still has into 2023 and the only difference is that he's changed the cravat to a bow tie. Like what Crowley had on during their date in 1827. Aziraphale has been out here with an "our own side" married accessory since the 1800s and these two idiots still can't get it together lol.

I don't know when the first time was that Crowley saw Aziraphale in the bow tie. I think they might have seen one another between the breakup scene and 1941, though there's some evidence that that might not be the case, but either way, the first time he saw that?! And if it was 1941 and he shows up to rescue Aziraphale, who is pretending to be all pissy about it while wearing a bowtie he designed out of love for and yearning for Crowley?! Quit teasing the poor demon, Aziraphale-- you're gonna discorporate him...

Aziraphale hasn't changed his look since the late 1800s because the tartan bow tie is a reference to his and Crowley's date in 1827 and so the look is a way of saying he loves him and not taking off the tartan bow tie is an equivalent of not taking off a wedding ring.

[lisired]

die in your arms

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, horror/thriller, explicit descriptions of violence and murder, unprotected sex, mentions of suicide, character death

summary: Every single night before bed, you play your royal husband, Jaehyun, a song on his grandfather's piano as a distraction from the ominous sounds you hear. To the public, you're all smiles, but discreetly, you're a slave to your suspicions. Though it seems the more you pry, the more secrets you start to unravel.

word count: 22.4k

a/n: spooky fic for the spooky season… or at least it was when i first posted it lol. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, you chanted to yourself, running because your life depended on it. 

Your feet hurt and you had lost track of how long you had been running for, but you pushed yourself forward even as your energy from the adrenaline started to dwindle. 

Never had you needed to fight for your life before. Fight for anything. Your legs burned from ache, begging for a break while your bare feet slapped against wet dirt. Your face was damp with tears and rainwater. But you never stopped. Not even for a second. 

Not as long as he was behind you. Even after hours of running, you knew he wouldn’t stop until he had at last caught you. He could run across acres of land and never break a sweat. 

Lightning struck and you screamed, only to realize it was the shrouds of darkness looming over you. You were on edge. 

“My love,” Jaehyun sang, calling out to you from a distance. 

His voice made you shudder, but you bunched your dress into your fists, the white gown difficult to run in. You didn’t look back, though you knew that he wasn’t far. 

Pushing Jaehyun’s voice to the back of your head, you tried to find an escape route. The garden had to stretch across at least a thousand acres. There was no end in sight. You were inclined to believe you were running in circles across perfectly manicured grass and stone trails. 

Jaehyun had the upper hand. It was his palace, for heaven’s sake. He had grown up wandering around these paths and exploring halls that were carbon copies of each other. You had barely made it out of the palace, clearing corridor after corridor, though unsure if you were making any distance because of how they paralleled.

You found another stone footpath, feeling the ground harden beneath your feet where moonlight shone through the tiniest of puddles. For whatever reason, seeing your scared face in your reflection gave you chills. Your face that was once perfectly made was ruined with streaks of mascara, black. 

What should have been the happiest day of your life had quickly turned upside-down. 

When you glanced aside, what you saw nearly got another hair-raising scream out of you, but you bit your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed. 

Horror was beginning not to explain your feelings as you fought for survival, wide eyes drifting around the pond in a perfect rectangle. There were tombstones surrounding the pond, watered by rain. You could see names etched on them; your parents, Jaehyun’s parents, and some of his servants. Dead fish floated in the water. 

“No,” you cried out, kneeling aside your parents’ gravestones. You didn’t care that your dress dirtied. You lost all purpose for it the second you saw him for the monster he had been all along. 

From the beginning this had only been a perfectly crafted game where you never had a chance. You were baited like an animal and Jaehyun was somewhere watching you like a hawk in the sky, because little did you know, you would never make it out. 

He had made sure of that. 

“This is your home now,” Jaehyun exclaimed, but it was all white noise to you. You didn’t even know where he was or how far he stood from you. Your mind was racing but empty all the while. 

You knew there had to be a shed somewhere. If you were quick, maybe you could hit him over the head with a trowel or a really heavy pot. If you wanted to make it out alive, you had to escape on your own. You knew there was nobody else alive out here aside from you and Jaehyun. 

Not to mention thinking about what Jaehyun would do to you if he caught you made your blood run cold, because you simply didn’t know. He was an enigma to you now. You went from living every little girl’s dreams of becoming a princess to living a never-ending nightmare.

“Darling. There you are,” Jaehyun said, as if he hadn’t already had you trapped. 

You screamed, screamed a silent cry, unable to hear his wet footsteps over the sound of your mind racing a thousand thoughts per hour. It was over. You lost. He had caught you. 

Jaehyun swept you into his arms and crooned, “Shh, it’s alright. Everything is okay, darling.”

Every exhale was a battle. You heaved, chest undulating, and tried to regain some semblance of composure. Your eyes studied the room and you realized you were no longer in Jaehyun’s boundless garden, but in his chamber. There was no rain pouring on you. Only sweat beading at your skin, cooling at your neck. 

“It was just a nightmare,” Jaehyun whispered, voice sweet and tender as it had always been. 

You still shuddered, but you were relieved that it was only a dream. You leaned into Jaehyun’s touch, breathing in the crisp air. 

You flitted your gaze to the balcony attached to the giant chamber, blocked off by a glass door. The royal blue curtains were drawn, giving you a perfect view of the garden it overlooked. Rain fell brutally and little droplets gathered at the screen. 

Nights like this were a recurring series of events ever since you started sharing a bed with Jaehyun. You would wake in the middle of the night, damp with sweat, screaming your lungs off. Jaehyun would hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ears, trying to calm you down. 

If you were being honest, it wasn’t Jaehyun that was giving you nightmares, in spite of the fact that the one key element they all shared was that he would be hunting you down in all of them. It was the dangerous lack of sleep you were getting. Interestingly, the monarchy had owls that kept you up at night, and when you finally fell asleep, bad dreams loomed over you. 

For whatever reason, sleep deprivation made you prone to them. You tried to remind yourself Jaehyun was a great guy and your stupid brain playing tricks on you was not a reflection of his character, but the fact that you consistently had more or less the same dream solely about him made you antsy. 

Grow up. Dreams don’t mean anything. You sound like a little girl afraid of the monsters under her bed, you hissed to yourself, chastising. The fact that it was so silly was enough to make you promptly dismiss your worries. 

For the three months you had been engaged, Jaehyun took the extra time to get to know you. It was strange, because he didn’t need to. Your marriage was a business proposal rather than the kneeling before your lover kind, and both of your parents had influence throughout the country. You had never spoken until then. 

In spite of that detail, Jaehyun treated you as if he could see himself truly loving you one day. Maybe because he wanted things to be as non-awkward as possible, given that you would be sharing the same bed at night. 

By day, Jaehyun would flaunt you in front of the media and hold you flush against him at royal events as he did throughout your betrothal. The wedding had to have been the most remarkable occasion of them all. It lasted throughout the entire day, hundreds of thousands of people present to celebrate your nuptials. 

When you married, you moved into the palace, which was precisely when the nightmares started. Because of those goddamn owls. 

Some nights later, you shot up again, having yet another nightmare. Noticing the bedside lamp was switched on, you glanced to your side, observing Jaehyun with a book in hand and spectacles sitting squarely on the bridge of his nose. “Another bad dream?”

You nodded, biting your lip. You felt bad and slightly embarrassed. Never had you and Jaehyun shared a bed until your honeymoon, so his first impression of your sleeping habits were you being prone to crying out in the middle of the night. 

Jaehyun, setting his book to the side after marking his place, opened his arms for you. You crawled into them without hesitation. Over time, they had started to feel like home. It took the edge off your homesickness. 

This is your home now. You shivered. It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. It’s just a very bad fucking dream, you comforted yourself.

Jaehyun whispered tenderly, “Tell me what you saw.”

You swallowed and damped your throat. Though you had told him about the owls, you kept to yourself the bit about him chasing you like a serial killer. “It’s a little dark,” you told him in fair warning. 

Jaehyun didn’t seem to give a damn. “It’s only a dream. It can’t scare me. Unless a monster is going to hop out of your cute brain and yell, ‘Boo!’”

You giggled. Leave it to Jaehyun to make you laugh when you needed it most. He had come to learn your needs over those three months of bonding.

Jaehyun threw you an expectant look. “Well?”

You hesitated, but ultimately gave in. Jaehyun was your husband now, for fuck’s sake. What couldn’t you tell him? “Well, every night I have the same nightmare about… you. You’re always chasing me throughout the castle. Every time, I get close to escaping, but you catch me in the end. And then I wake up.”

“It’s not very realistic.” 

You pulled back, giving him a look. “Hm?”

“I would never chase you,” Jaehyun said. “I will always have you right where I want you.”

Your eyes flickered. It was an unsettling comment, but you tried to let it go. Jaehyun doesn’t have an evil bone in his body, you reminded yourself. He’s harmless.

Jaehyun clambered out of bed, sitting his spectacles on top of his book, and stood on two feet. When you merely watched him with interest, he beckoned you to mirror him. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

Hesitantly you obeyed him, crawling from bed and sliding on your slippers. Following him into the halls, you walked hand in hand with Jaehyun the entire time who had laced his fingers through yours comfortably. The gesture made you smile, no matter how little. 

Like in your dreams, the corridors were of length and resembled each other almost precisely. High stone walls stood tall, statues at its sides, and chandeliers glared at you from above your heads. Given it was after nightfall, the halls were dimly lit. 

One of the statues you swore you saw move and give you a mean glower. You asked curiously, “Did you ever break anything when you were a child?”

“Not that I remember. No.”

“Huh,” you retorted. “You must have been a wonderful child.”

“I stayed in my room and looked out the window,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath. 

Your eyes flickered.

Jaehyun brought you to a room at the very end of the passage but before he drew the doors open, he told you softly, “Close your eyes.”

You rolled your eyes, but did as told, giggling. Jaehyun got a hold of both of your hands and placed them over your face for safe measure. Then, he drew the doors open, pushing you inside. 

Jaehyun guided you mysteriously throughout the room and you let him without question. You knew he had switched the lights on, the corners of your vision getting brighter in spite of the dark void, and he stopped you momentarily. 

“Now, open.”

You slowly opened your eyes, squinting while you adjusted to the bright lights. Then they focused in front of you, and what you saw made you giddy with excitement. 

“Whoa,” you gasped, running a hand over the grand piano. It was royal blue, monarchical patterns thoughtfully designed over the lid. 

Jaehyun was sporting the biggest smile you had ever seen. “Do you like it?”

You bobbed your head. During your engagement, you remembered telling Jaehyun, en passant, that you had been enamored with playing pianos since you were little. “You remembered,” you said quietly, touched. 

Jaehyun’s dimples showed and it was the cutest thing ever. He spoke softly, “This was my grandfather’s piano. He hated bad weather and played it when it stormed. I know that it’s not the same, but I thought that maybe if you played the piano before bed, it would help with your nightmares.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, Jaehyun,” you replied, heat spreading through your chest like wildfire. “Do you want me to play you a song?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun said and pulled out a chair. 

You sat on the piano bench, getting comfortable and warming up your fingers lest they cramped in the middle of your impromptu performance. For a multigenerational piano, it was still in perfect condition. 

“My mother taught me this,” you told him in preparation. 

You proceeded to play him a mind-blowing masterpiece, your eyes and hands trained to the keyboard. Jaehyun was dumbfounded that any human being could be so graceful while playing an instrument and kept himself fixed to your supple fingers. He was enamored, knowing then and there that he wanted to hear you play your sweet song forever. 

Eyes closed, everything disappeared behind the sound of the keys, and you carried yourself to a world where there was nothing but you and your piano. Where no harm could reach you. 

Me and my song. That's how you got through everything. As long as you had a piano, everything would be okay. 

When you were done, you glanced up at Jaehyun, studying him for a reaction. 

Jaehyun was all smiles. He was endlessly proud of you, clasping his hands together in applause when the performance ended. His heart was asking for an encore, and he knew you most likely wanted one yourself. He could see that you were truly at peace when you played, in a world of your own, at your happiest. 

“You’re the most talented player I've ever heard,” Jaehyun whispered sweetly. 

Heat filled your cheeks and you hid it with a roll of your eyes. “You’re only saying that because I’m your wife.”

Jaehyun took your hands in his palms again, kissing the back of your palm tenderly. “You are my talented wife, who I love very much.”

Your heart stopped. His wife. Who he loved. He loved you? You expected to be merely something he had to put up with, but Jaehyun had come to genuinely love you. To say nothing of yourself. This boy had swept you off of your feet in no time at all. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. Now that he had done such a thoughtful gesture, you loved him even more. 

Jaehyun saw the stars in your eyes and squeezed your hand. “Are you ready to go back to bed?”

“Yes,” you chirped with glee. 

Jaehyun hoisted you into his arms bridal style and you squealed in surprise, wreathing your arms around his neck while he carried you back to the bedchamber. 

You slept soundly after that. No screaming. No nightmares. 

As it turned out, his grandfather’s piano was the perfect countermeasure for your night terrors. You were dumbfounded that you actually managed to sleep through the whole night, well rested for the formal dinners and publicity appearances that came with being royalty.

For each of them, you clung flush to Jaehyun’s side, radiant. You didn’t speak unless spoken to. It was no question why you of all the women from a handpicked list were selected to become his wife. You had been cautiously groomed for the role, the pretty and obedient little thing meant to stand by the prince's side and carry his children. Especially his son.

Maybe it seemed demeaning, though you had no intention of making waves in the monarchy. You kept in step, rather than marched to the beat of your own drum. You were more than content to silently bathe in their luxuries and confide in your husband.

But it did get lonely.

One lazy afternoon, just after lunch, the king approached you and Jaehyun as the two of you were shooting the breeze in The Great Chamber. You noticed his father first and greeted him respectfully, “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”

Jaehyun opted for a polite bow. 

The king motioned his head. “Good afternoon. I am only here to announce your mother-in-law and I’s departure. We will be traveling abroad on business for a couple of weeks. Your mother-in-law is already with an escort waiting outside the exit hall.”

That baffled Jaehyun. “Why the abrupt exit?”

“We have some affairs to attend to that couldn’t wait and we owe the prime minister a favor. We will return as briefly as possible.”

Jaehyun nodded. “Travel safely.”

“Of course. And son, the country is yours in our absence,” said the king. Then, he locked eyes with you. “Yours as well.”

You were stunned for a couple of seconds, but masked it well and replied demurely, “Yes, sir.”

The king bid each of you farewell individually then scurried to the exit hall with his wife to be chauffeured to their private charter. 

Jaehyun met your eyes with a mischievous smile and said when his parents were out of earshot, “Appears it’s just the two of us.”

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, amused by the amount of sheer mischief in his stare. “Just me, you, and the hundred other people that live in this palace.”

Jaehyun chuckled, lifted your wrist, and pressed a sweet kiss to the back of your hand. “What if I sent everybody home? You heard my father. I’m in charge.”

“I also very clearly heard him mention that I’m in charge too. And I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Who’s going to make the spoiled prince’s every meal three times a day, everyday?” 

“Fair point,” Jaehyun mumbled. “Do you really think that I’m spoiled?”

You replied without skipping a beat, “Rotten.”

“What a shame,” Jaehyun said. “Would it also be a shame if you came upstairs to spoil me some more?”

“Only if you didn’t spoil me back,” you replied tamely, but Jaehyun could see the unbridled lust in your eyes. It never lied to him. 

You two scurried through the halls like a pair of hormonal teenagers, staggering towards the elevator with dwindling patience and giggling the entire ride upstairs. 

When you came to bed that night after spending an undocumented amount of time playing Jaehyun the piano in what was once his grandfather’s bedchamber, he threw his big arms around your waist and drifted off to the view of your backside. 

But when you abruptly woke, he was nowhere to be found.

You sat up in a panic. He’s just using the bathroom. Yeah, that sounds about right, you consoled yourself. The clock stared back at you on the wall, and noting the time, you decided you would wait for him to return. 

Jaehyun never returned to his bedroom. You watched hours tick away at their own pace, but there was no sign of him. And in lieu of your husband’s soft snores, you only heard those familiar owls, feet dragging down the hall, and impatient ticking. 

Which was completely unnerving.

You didn’t get any sleep that night. Not until Jaehyun at last came back and worriedly asked why you looked as if you had just finished a twelve-hour shift in the dungeon. 

Choosing to ignore him, you snarled, “Where were you?”

Jaehyun’s eyes flickered. “Well, I was in the study. I had some late night affairs to attend to.”

“The king and queen are absent. Our royal activities have been suspended. There is nothing you could possibly need to take care of at four in the morning,” you pressed, arms folded. 

“Most of our royal activities have been temporarily suspended,” Jaehyun corrected with a swiftness. “Why do you think my father left us in control? The country never sleeps.”

You sulked, especially grumpy from the lack of sleep. 

Jaehyun watched you with surprise. Your grouchy, irritable attitude graveled him, because he couldn’t comprehend what he had done that was so wrong. “What’s gotten into you?”

You exhaled loudly. Maybe you were overreacting a little. Jaehyun did make a valid point, after all. Somebody still needed to nurse the country in the king and queen’s absence. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m being unreasonable,” you replied, unable to justify your cynicism. 

Not to mention you couldn’t think of a single other thing that Jaehyun could have been doing so early in the morning. It was a completely plausible excuse, whether you believed it or not. And it wasn’t as if Jaehyun had ever given you a reason to doubt him. 

But the feet dragging through the halls was the second most eerie sound you had ever heard, just after those evil owls that reminded you too much of gargoyles. You chalked it up to some staff members keeping guard on a late shift and gave it up. 

Jaehyun pried your stubborn hand away from your crossed arms and you let him. His touch was exactly what you needed to soothe your unease. “You look tired,” he commented. “Have you been sleeping?”

“No, I was waiting for you to come back,” you grumbled gruffly and stifled a yawn out of habit. It was unladylike, they said.

Jaehyun chuckled in amusement, but scolded, “You shouldn’t wait up for me. I’m a busy man and a princess needs her beauty sleep.”

“Maybe I feel safe when you’re next to me,” you mumbled under your breath, eyes fixed to his thumb rubbing circles at your wrist. 

“I’m never far from you, baby,” Jaehyun reassured you gently. “I’m always two steps behind you.”

“Behind me or ahead of me?”

“I’m omnipresent,” Jaehyun whispered and kissed your cheek sweetly. “You can play the piano. I can sing. Would you like for me to sing you a song?”

“Yes,” you replied without stopping to mull it over. 

Jaehyun told you to lie back down and you obeyed without a second thought, slipping under the blankets. You felt even warmer when he snaked his arms back around you and started to croon softly in your ears, voice tickling your neck and ultimately lulling you back to slumber. 

Whether or not he got back up after that was entirely unbeknownst to you. 

You slept so peacefully in Jaehyun’s embrace that you didn’t even rouse until afternoon, well after Jaehyun had slipped from bed and told you good morning, whispering something in your ear about how he had duties to attend to.

You, on the other hand, were cleared of any scheduling. Which gave you ample time to explore the gardens. 

Now sporting a pretty knee-length dress, you had some tea and toast as a makeshift breakfast and scuttled outside in quick, short strides. The grandiose garden was easily your favorite spot in the whole palace. You could get lost in its labyrinth of superbly pruned shrubs and terraces decked in flower petals. 

For lack of a better word, it was a humbling experience. It made you feel small to be isolated in such a huge garden. You may have been a princess, next in succession to the queen’s throne, but you were also just some girl in a world larger than you would ever know. 

You could prance around and gawk at pretty flowers day in and day out. It didn’t take much to keep you happy. But you rather liked company. 

When you noticed one of the gardeners you recognized tending to some blossoms, you chirped, “Hi, Giselle.”

Giselle greeted you very respectfully, curtsying at your presence. “Greetings, Your Royal Highness.”

“Oh, please,” you said, almost rolling your eyes. “You can call me by my name.”

“The king and queen wouldn’t approve of the informalities, ma’am.”

You didn’t really give a damn and waved her off, replying nonchalantly, “While that is true, the king and queen are not here, and it’s only the two of us in this garden. When we are alone, you may call me by my name and I will call you by yours.”

“If you insist,” Giselle replied, followed by your name. 

You smiled triumphantly. 

From your previous encounters and run-ins, you had already gathered that Giselle unfortunately wasn’t very much of a talker, though you couldn’t fault her. She did what she was told and minded the business that paid her. Literally. It would do her no good to kindle conflict in the monarchy. 

“These flowers are pretty,” you remarked absentmindedly. 

Giselle hummed. “They’re azaleas.”

“Elegance, temperance, and death,” you said knowledgeably, staring from the terrace. 

Which surprised Giselle. “Are you into flower symbolism?”

You shrugged. “I know a thing or two.”

“Hm.”

You pointed to some other flowers. They were very recognizable to you at this point. “Those are white roses. Purity, innocence, loyalty, and fresh beginnings. It’s no secret why they were scattered all over my wedding.”

“Secrecy and silence,” Giselle added offhandedly.

For a couple of seconds, that, metaphorically speaking, threw you off balance. “That too,” you said quietly.

Giselle said nothing. 

You considered making peace with the silence, but with your thoughts at daggers drawn with one another, you quickly accepted that wouldn’t be possible. Secrecy and silence. There was no doubt it suited the monarchs aptly. Sometimes you even wondered what you knew about Jaehyun, because he was ghastly private.

Maybe you weren’t the closest of married couples, but you knew enough. Jaehyun liked music and singing. He was introverted and quite shy, which was laughable when considering that he was soon to become king. He was calm and sensitive. Sensual, but reticent. 

Jaehyun already made clear he loved you. Maybe with time, he would show you his heart. 

Then, you had another thought. Secret, but not so much silent. “Hey, Giselle,” you called out. “Do you ever hear strange noises in the palace?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Everything is normal in the royal palace.”

You frowned. It hit you that you never asked Jaehyun if they bothered him. It was possible that growing up in the castle had numbed him. “I hear owls at night.” 

“That is because there are owls and they are nocturnal. We haven’t tried to get rid of them because they are helpful with the garden,” was all Giselle said. 

“Well, sure,” you mumbled, because it was an entirely logical explanation. “But what about the noises I hear in the hallway?”

“Some employees take late shifts to keep guard of the palace. They are merely monitoring the halls.”

That was what you told yourself, because it was completely reasonable. But something about this place gave you a bad gut feeling and left a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn’t explain it, because it was just a hunch. 

“In all due respect, what you hear is elementary. Word of advice? Believe what I tell you now or get two hours of sleep at night later.”

You recoiled in surprise. “Excuse me?” 

Giselle turned around, glanced around for any watchful eyes, and made eye contact with you. She stepped onto the terrace and whispered, “I hear scratches in the walls and cries in the floorboards. You can rationalize footsteps in the hallway, but whimpers in the chamber? Not so easy. Convince yourself that it’s nothing while you still can.”

“If I have to convince myself that it’s nothing then that means there’s something,” you shot back, looking her plain in the eye. Which also meant there was something she wasn’t telling you. “What are you hiding?” 

Giselle wavered, hesitant. She wore it on her face. Her body language was screaming at you and you desperately wanted to know what it was saying. “You’re royalty,” she finally said after a moment. “You have lived lavishly your whole life without ever needing to worry about a thing. Maybe I envy what you have, but I’m not telling you this from a black heart when I say my woes are not yours.”

You didn’t bristle, but softened. She was opening up to you, and you knew there was more to this tangent of hers. 

“I come from a poor background and work here to provide for my household,” she said tamely, harboring no resentment whatsoever. She wasn’t the least bit vindictive. “Because of that, I can’t afford to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong. Even if it keeps me up at night.”

“The noises,” you said. “They keep you up at night?”

“Because of that piano,” Giselle grumbled under her breath. 

“What?”

Giselle pivoted and walked back to the plants, dismissing your concern. “I’ve already said too much. Please, mention this to nobody. But if you must, leave my name out.”

You nodded. “Off the record.”

Giselle smiled thinly. 

Backpedaling, you pointed to another shrubbery of flowers. “What are those?”

“Hydrangeas. They might seem high maintenance, but they are fairly easy to take care of. The queen loves them, so I give them some extra attention,” Giselle told you while hoisting a watering pot. 

You hummed. “Blue flowers.”

“Desire, love, and infinity,” Giselle sighed poignantly. 

For half an hour, you volunteered to help Giselle with her gardening duties before she shooed you away, claiming you had done enough of her responsibilities. You wandered in the garden still, lingering, just outside of Jaehyun’s bedchamber window.

When you glanced up, you saw him watching you fondly through the balcony screen, and waved him down with a beaming smile.

Jaehyun was downstairs in a flash, sporting chinos and a casual blazer. He looked very handsome, which was nothing new for him. Plus with his pretty brown eyes and adorable dimples that were both impossible to not get lost in, you had to will yourself not to swoon.

“Hi,” you greeted. 

“Hi,” Jaehyun replied, mirroring you. Except he leaned in to snake his arms just below your ribs and kissed the corner of your mouth. 

You smiled at his affections, though they had disarmed you a long time ago. His ability to unsettle you when he was gone but soothe you when he touched you was to be studied. “How has your day been so far?”

Jaehyun groaned. “Next subject.”

That got a chuckle out of you. Being the ruler of a country was no easy feat, but if there was anybody fitted for the role, it was Jaehyun. “Hopefully your parents haven’t left you with too much trouble.”

Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders. “I want to relax. You look like you’re having fun.”

“Something like that.” 

You decided against confiding in him about the reality of your day thus far. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you weren’t sure of anything yourself. Giselle had mentioned something about the piano he had gifted you. Jaehyun might have been your best bet at knowing what she meant, but you needed to do a little more investigating before you got him involved. 

Now that you had another person’s opinion, you could say with total confidence that you weren’t crazy. There was something spooky going on in the monarchy and you wanted to know what. 

For now, you would shove the thought to a corner in the back of your mind. Days at the palace were full of whimsical fun. The nights were terrifying. 

Speaking of whimsical fun, Jaehyun spoke up and asked, “Do you want to ride the ferry with me?”

That caught your attention. “Ferry?”

“Yeah. There’s a huge lake down this path and we have a mini ferry that travels from one end to the other. You interested?”

“Sign me up,” you exclaimed enthusiastically. 

Getting a hold of your hand, Jaehyun walked you through the courtyard to the wooden dock at the top of the lake. Unsurprisingly, it had a decorated roofed patio with a lounging nook to wait for the vessel to return.

Fortunately for you, it was already waiting at the dock, unoccupied save for the captain Jaehyun had called up during your relaxed walk to the boating site. 

Jaehyun helped you aboard, having done this more times than he cared to admit. When you were safely secured on the tiny ferry, you thanked him for being a gentleman and watched him climb aboard himself. 

The captain exited the wheelhouse. “Once to and from, Your Royal Highness?”

“Make it twice. We have time to waste,” said Jaehyun, looking at you with all the affections a man could possess. 

Shortly afterwards, you started moving. You stood beside Jaehyun and gripped the railing, watching the water splash beneath the boat. This place was beautiful, no doubt. Your choice to get married in the garden was unregretted. 

Eerily beautiful, you thought. Though you loved the garden, there were a couple of places you avoided. Mainly the ones that made appearances in your nightmares, like the shed. 

The silence was comfortable, both you and Jaehyun soaking in the view, but you broke it to say, “You’re an only child.”

“I guess you could say that.”

You gave him a look. “What do you mean?” 

Jaehyun shook his head, dismissive. “Nothing. Keep talking.”

You were curious, wanting to know all there was on this boy, but let it go for his sake. “Doesn’t it get lonely - alone in this big palace? Your parents are busy nurturing the country like it’s their own child.”

Jaehyun didn’t show a single fucking emotion on his face, though that was far from shocking by now. When it was time to get personal, he became the iciest man you knew. His cold indifference somehow burned you.

You grimaced when you saw his face. “Sorry if I crossed a line.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jaehyun replied, giving you a reassuring kiss to the cheek. “I was lonely before I met you. No siblings. Few people I could trust. When I was young, I learned rather quickly that life is a game of survival. You can never be too sure who’s friend or foe.”

You listened attentively, nestling closer to his chest. 

“I was taught to be my own guard, in a way. And there’s nobody to blame but myself for chasing away everybody who tries to get close. But then you came,” Jaehyun said, smiling at you adoringly. “And there was an instant connection. I think I saw pieces of myself inside of you.”

“You did?”

Jaehyun bobbed his head. “Yeah. Some people see this meek, demure princess, but I see the woman that almost cooked my ass when I wasn’t tucked into bed with her,” he joked, getting a laugh out of you. 

You giggled. 

Jaehyun was smiling like an idiot. It was cute and wholesome. “On a serious note, I see somebody strong and assertive. Somebody who’s not afraid to fight for what they want, even if it means going through hell and back. Somebody unbroken and undeterred.”

“Mm-hm. And you liked that,” you hummed, giving him a hooded stare. 

“You have no idea,” Jaehyun purred before leaning in to smash his lips against yours.

You giggled into his mouth. Your heart skipped a beat or two when Jaehyun kissed you, tempted to leap into the palm of his hands where she belonged. The Jaehyun you had come to know was a romantic and there was nothing more romantic than making out with your lover on a beautiful ferry ride. 

Except for making love with your lover below a beautiful ferry ride. 

“Below deck,” Jaehyun murmured in your ear, delicately slipping his hands from your waist to lace his fingers through yours. You didn’t hesitate to follow him through the little hall, coming out in a bedroom at its very end. 

You hardly even got to stand long enough to take note of your surroundings before Jaehyun hoisted you up and threw you against the silk sheets. You cried out in shock. Jaehyun had taken you more times than you bothered to count, but you were in awe at how rough the prince got when it came to sex.

When Jaehyun crept over you, staring at you with a blend of awe and unbridled lust in those pretty brown eyes of his, you combed your fingers through his dark hair and drew his mouth to yours again. 

You could hear your heart thudding in your ears as you kissed him slowly. Your lips only knew each other and you could taste the ecstasy on the tip of your tongue. To say nothing of the touches. While you were fisting his hair, Jaehyun stripped you naked, tossing your dress and groping your perfect breasts. 

Jaehyun was warm to the touch, but his fingers never failed to make you shiver. “I love the way your lips feel,” you confessed when he separated from your mouth. 

Only to kiss his way down your stomach, lips gentle and tender. Jaehyun cocked you a glance and grinned. “And what about my dick?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. I love your dick, duh, but that’s a different conversation deserving of its own speech. Particularly a long-winded one with a very heartfelt peroration at the climax.”

Jaehyun’s head bobbed as he snickered at the thought, before teasing, “Well, we have the Great Chamber for that when you’re ready. Feel free.”

Your laughter rang out in the little bedroom. Then, Jaehyun switched on a dime, dragging your legs towards the edge of the bed before spreading them apart like jelly and burying his face between your thighs. 

Every time Jaehyun took you to bed, you remembered the first night of your honeymoon. When he took you to a cabin in the woods in April’s spring, flipped you over, and made you cry for all the forest to hear. By day, you watched nature and waltzed to his many vinyls, and by night, you made love for hours. 

And to think that was only a month ago. You felt as if you’d loved Jaehyun for years.

Jaehyun ate you out until you came undone at the mercy of his brutal tongue, clamping his palms at your thighs while you convulsed and shuddered, and undulated. Fuck, he knew your body too well. You arched off the bed one final time then slumped down, defeated.

You gawked in disbelief while he watched you scramble for breath with a cocked brow. Your body’s capacity for pleasure knew no bounds when Jaehyun was the one pleasing you. “Ready to take my cock?” he asked, excitement nipping sharply in his chest at the thought of ruining you.

You nodded your head almost instantly. Your lack of patience was written all over you and you wanted him. Right now.

Jaehyun’s hands were quick to reach for his cock, steering himself skillfully to bury himself inside of your pussy. A wet sound filled the air when he sank inside and you instantly moaned his name as though it was an instinct. 

You drove Jaehyun mad when you called out his name like that; with pining and desperation, and everything in between. Heaven had brought you to him and fate would keep you by his side until the very end. 

“Jay,” came your airy voice. Just being filled with your husband’s cock made you feel like you were elevating, ascending into the air. 

Your sounds were euphoric and drove Jaehyun to the very brink of madness, and with the last of his restraint gone, he was impelled to move at long last, thrusting into you at a leisurely yet hard pace. He lowered his face to meet yours, lips locked in a wet smack. You were skin to skin, your stiff nipples pressed against his bare chest. 

Every moment was as special as the first. As a woman groomed to become a figure of importance, you were raised to remain chaste until marriage. And the day you exchanged vows with Jaehyun, he made your whole body shudder. 

“God is a woman,” Jaehyun rasped, heart racing so quickly it might have burst. You were warm all over and his hands roamed every nook of your body, every curve. 

Even though you wanted to laugh, all that came from your mouth was a breathless moan. Moments like these where you knew nothing but Jaehyun, scooped into his strong arms, you couldn’t help but realize how lucky you were. Not a second went by where you took him for granted.

Things could’ve been different. Jaehyun could have been an insufferable spoiled prick that acted entitled to his wife, but he was far from the visions of him you saw in your nightmares. You were grateful to be married to a man that both respected you and valued your happiness. 

You locked your legs around him, pulling him into you deeper, and kissed him until the two of you were gasping for air. “You get me so wet, Jay,” you whispered, tangling your fingers through his head.

At those words, Jaehyun released an animalistic growl, so aroused you thought he might break. His thoughts revolved solely around you. How much like poison you were. How outrageously perfect you were. Head to toe. 

You beamed with pride, pleased to have such a dangerous effect on your husband. The two of you meeting each other was mutually assured destruction. Nothing had been the same since Jaehyun laid eyes on you. When he saw you for the first time, he knew that he had to have you. 

While your body rocked from the sheer force of Jaehyun’s thrusts, the boat gently thrashed in the water. Your breasts bounced and the sight had made Jaehyun lose what was left of his mind. One day, in the none too distant future, they would be swollen with milk and Jaehyun imagined you carrying his children. 

That thought alone could have finished him. He thought of it every time he fucked you full of cum, pumping his load inside of you rough and deep, just the way you begged for him to. Watching your belly swell with your shared child would do unspeakable things to Jaehyun’s psyche. 

Part of you drowned out the sounds of the water splattering against the boat in favor of listening to Jaehyun’s relentless groans. Your husband always had a flair for the romantic. Hopelessly, he used to think, until he met you. 

Staring up at Jaehyun, you were bewitched by the gentle gracefulness of his features, especially as they tensed with unbridled pleasure. “Can I tell you something?” you asked. 

Jaehyun nodded his head. “Anything,” he whispered. 

“You smell so good.”

Jaehyun’s laughter rang out in your ears. The sight and sound brought a smile to your face. You didn’t know anyone with a more perfect laugh and you would give anything to see it again. “That’s so random.”

“But true,” you added, inhaling his scent the closer he got to your naked chest. There was hardly any space between you two at all. 

Jaehyun was all smiling from ear to ear. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

Jaehyun leaned into your ear, deepening his voice to a breathtaking whisper, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart stopped. There was something about his voice tickling your earlobe that made you gush and tighten around his cock. After searching for the ability to speak, you replied, “Funny. I feel the same way about you.”

Jaehyun chuckled deeply and you swore you became lightheaded. “Yeah?”

“Can I tell you one more thing?”

“Go for it.”

“I’m about to cum,” you told him, climax threatening to rip you apart. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Jaehyun said, voice dark with determination. You gasped when his fingers sank to your clit and his thumb teased your bundle of nerves. 

Heat swallowed you whole. You couldn’t process all of the sensations that your body was experiencing all at once. A scream came out of your mouth and Jaehyun stifled them with his palm as you trembled with orgasm, cursing the stars. 

Jaehyun didn’t stop fucking until he was certain that you couldn’t take anymore. You went round after round, fisting the sticky sheets, grateful that he chose to take two trips across the lake. You had time to kill. 

Your body was worn and utterly spent when Jaehyun was finished with you. You fell slack against the sheets, unable to move your stiff limbs. Given that Jaehyun was left with more than a handful of responsibilities, it should’ve come to you as no shock that he took his stress out on you.

And you were more than eager to let him. When Jaehyun made love to you, the power he wielded over you was endless. Your body was seized by him and your heart was his on a platter. 

“I love you,” Jaehyun whispered deeply in your ear. It was enough to drive any woman mad. You were too breathless to say anything back, chest undulating. 

For a couple of moments neither of you could hardly move and you stayed nestled into each other’s side till you regained the strength to hunt for your tossed clothes. Flush against Jaehyun’s skin, the sexual tension still lingered, and he was overwhelmingly aware of how naked you were. 

After quickly redressing yourselves, you just sat on the bed for a little longer, feeling the boat still sway and knowing you weren’t back home. Jaehyun’s hand was flat against your backside, never letting you forget that he was at your side. 

You tried to fend off some wandering thoughts, but your curiosity got the better of you and you surrendered to your need to know. “Jaehyun, I have something to tell you.”

Your tone was not lost on him. “It sounds serious.”

“Yeah, kind of,” you replied, swallowing the taste in your throat that made you nauseous. “It’s about my dreams. It’s not just the owl noises. I think there’s something else going on.”

Jaehyun’s brows were furrowed. “Like what?”

There was a lump in your throat. After you confided in him about your doubts and suspicions, there was no going back. “Like the piano,” you said, unsure of yourself. 

Jaehyun’s demeanor shifted suddenly, aggressively. He went from cool and collected to stern on a dime, chastising, “Stop looking.”

His tone affronted you. “Excuse me?”

“It’s for your own safety. You need not to worry your pretty little head.”

Narrowing your eyes, you pressed, “So there is something going on that you’re not telling me.”

Jaehyun exhaled a heavy breath, smoothing a hand through his hair. “Promise me you’ll stop prying. This is serious. I will tell you everything that you need to know when it’s time.”

“Jaehyun, you know I can’t promise that,” you whispered. 

“Please,” Jaehyun said, eyes glistening. 

God, he was begging you? It had to have been serious. You couldn’t fathom him pleading for you not to investigate otherwise. But rather than discourage you, it only intensified your will to get to the bottom of the matter. 

Massaging your temple, you sighed, “Okay. Pinky promise.”

You giggled when Jaehyun interlocked his pinky finger with yours, but you weren’t certain how long you would be capable of keeping that promise. 

Soon after your confession, the captain signaled that the boat had returned to the dock. Jaehyun led you back through the narrow hallway with your hand in his, as if nothing had happened. 

The sex. The little divulgence that followed. He’s way too naturally gifted at slipping back into this royal character, you realized. In a way, you already knew that. Jaehyun could fuck the daylights out of you then smile and wave at the media as if he was their innocent successor to the throne.

Though this was different. Jaehyun obviously had no intention of letting you know exactly what he was hiding any time soon. And if he thought you would just sit around and wait for answers, he had severely underestimated you just like every other man in this country. 

Something unforgivably dark and sinister was happening. That was undeniable. You just needed to find out what.

Hours came and went, as did people. Jaehyun was right, you supposed. The country never slept. The palace alone was bustling with life at all times. 

Which made you think. If both you and Giselle were apprehensive of the obvious skeletons the monarchy had in its closet, there was no way you were alone. Somebody else had to know something. Somebody with just as much to lose. 

You just had to play your cards right. Giselle didn’t lie when she said that she had a lot more at stake than you. Even if the royal family abandoned you for whatever reason, you had the safety net of your own wealthy family to fall back on. Not everybody was as fortunate. 

When the sun set below the horizon, Jaehyun accompanied you to his grandfather’s bedchamber, though only because you didn’t want him to grow suspicious. The piano was the only way to bulldoze your ceaseless thoughts. You were lost in your own head. 

“I love you, Jaehyun,” you told him out of nowhere.

Jaehyun looked pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t often you confessed your affections. “Where’s this coming from?”

Your mind wandered back to earlier. Though you weren’t happy about him brushing off your concerns, your heart couldn’t deny the way it thumped for him. “I never said it back. And you didn’t make me.”

“Because I already know.”

You blew out a breath. Your heart told you not to risk losing his trust, but your mind was screaming that he was keeping something from you. Days ago, you would’ve been more than content with submissively obeying your husband’s commands. 

But peace had never been an option. 

It wasn’t long before you crept into bed with each other. You slept peacefully and uninterrupted by any nightmares. Again. 

Breakfast was spent together as always. Now that his parents had left the two of you in charge, it was often the only time you had available in the mornings to share. 

Any other morning, you would complain, but you were waiting with bated breath for the opportunity to get away and sneak around like a thief in the night. You weren’t keen on lying to Jaehyun, but he would just have to understand the rationale. You couldn’t keep living antsily. 

You spread some butter on your toast and asked, “Would you like to visit the markets with me this afternoon?”

Jaehyun frowned. Had he not been so busy, he would’ve done whatever you wanted. You wondered why your schedule was so clear, because when Jaehyun was preoccupied, half the time so were you. “I would love to, but the committee needs my opinion on some political stuff.”

Your tone was disappointed, “Political stuff?” 

Jaehyun nodded. He seemed to have fallen for it somehow. “I won’t bore you with the details.”

“Well, I won’t keep you, then,” you said, taking a sip of steaming hot coffee. Jaehyun had made it for you just the way he knew that you liked it. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me? I’m not expected to be present for another fifteen minutes.” Jaehyun’s tone was light, but the accusation made your heart beat faster.

Donning your most innocent voice, you assured him, “Of course not. I just know how much you like to be punctual.”

“That is true,” Jaehyun muttered. 

Ironically, the hours seemed to drag on, because you couldn’t wait for Jaehyun to leave for once. The second he was finally far out of your vicinity you discarded your leftovers and prepared yourself for the grueling task ahead of you. 

Only when you emerged from the dining hall and set out on your little exploit did it occur to you that you didn’t have even the slightest clue who to ask. A couple of servants had been around quite longer than others, yet they were dreadfully tight-lipped. But for good reason. 

Bumping into a younger one, you exclaimed, “Oh, good heavens! Pardon me, Mr. Kim.”

Jungwoo bowed gracefully and replied, “No, I apologize, Your Highness. I’ll pay closer attention.”

“It’s fine. I’ve been out of it since I got out of bed with Jaehyun,” you confessed, flashing a courteous smile. 

To your surprise, Jungwoo threw you a baffled glance. “You share a bed with the prince?”

“Yes, he is my husband. Is that odd?”

“I’m surprised. It goes against tradition. The king and queen have always had separate bedrooms,” Jungwoo told you, scratching the back of his neck. 

That was news. Though given how secretive these people were, everything was news to you. “I didn’t know that.”

Jungwoo rifled through his pockets for a spare key, pressing it into a lock on a nearby door as he rambled, “I wouldn’t either, but my dad worked here. And my granddad. With their debts, they passed down useless knowledge.”

Your interest was quickly piqued. Maybe you didn’t need to take your chances with an older worker after all. Jungwoo, way more affable and approachable, bore the knowledge of generations. “No knowledge is useless.”

“Yeah, maybe, but it’s not exactly power,” Jungwoo said, grabbing some items out of a utility closet.

“What do you mean?”

You watched Jungwoo shut the door and promptly lock it behind himself. “There are some things it’s better you don’t know, ma’am.”

“I’m sick of other people telling me what’s best for me,” you grumbled irritably. “I already know about the piano. Well, kind of.”

Jungwoo’s entire attitude flipped on a dime. Glancing across the hallway twice as if he was preparing to cross a road, he dropped his items on a cart and spoke softly, “Follow me.”

Obviously, you were confused, but you didn’t dare disobey. This might’ve been your only chance at getting closer to the truth.

Jungwoo led you to a door hidden behind the stairway with a big sign warding off intruders, though it was locked, as to be expected. This family apparently couldn’t afford to take any chances. With what, you had no clue. 

Strangely enough, Jungwoo had a key and wheeled his cart inside of the room after it clicked open. You curiously trailed behind him once he locked it behind you, wanting to know all there was to learn about this place.

There was a chain to your right and Jungwoo tugged on it, watching the lights barely flicker on. It was dim and empty, and though it was a test of your willpower, you fought off your nerves and remained unbroken. 

Narrowing into a hallway, the entrance seemed to go on for a hundred miles and a half. Your footsteps bounced off every wall and the sound made you nervous. Of course, Jungwoo would never in his life knowingly lead you astray and you chose to have faith in the belief that he’d never bring you straight to danger. 

But it made you wonder. If you recalled correctly, Giselle mentioned something about scratching in the walls. Your understanding of architecture was limited, but this place had to be built in between other parts of the castle. 

Weird, you whispered to yourself, rubbing your arms. It seemed that the deeper you went down this hallway, the colder the air got. 

“Watch your step. It’s creaky,” Jungwoo warned, leaving his cart in the hall. You glanced around him to see what he was talking about and that was when you noticed another set of stairs.

You shook your head and cursed, “Pardon my language, but Jesus Christ - how deep does this shit go?”

Jungwoo chuckled. “Too deep, ma’am.”

You had no strength to tell him to drop the titles. This was a few conversations far from your first encounter with Jungwoo and he respectfully declined each of your suggestions for him to call you by your name. 

The floorboards did indeed creak as you stepped down them and the sound couldn’t have been any more unnerving. You appreciated Jungwoo dutifully walking in front of you as if he was defending you with his life. Not that there was anything down here to jump out and get you. 

You hoped. 

Whatever disaster of a room that you just walked inside of was far from what you expected this staircase to lead to, though you weren’t too sure. At the end of the seemingly never-ending hallway was nothing but a pile of junk. If you were being frank, it looked like a bunch of hungry wild animals had a field day. Things had been tossed. Almost as if a fight of some kind had unraveled here. 

It was a hot mess. The place looked a solid minute away from crumbling in on itself, and that was you being generous. Your arm hairs were standing at attention now. You took one good look at the barrels just shy of you, noted the temperature, and pieced together why. 

“It’s… a cellar,” you said, noticeably disappointed. 

“It was a cellar,” Jungwoo told you, glancing around and wrinkling his nose. “This room hasn’t been used for at least a decade.”

Voice dripping with sarcasm, you deadpanned, “You don’t say.”

“Oh, I say.”

Your lips parted and the room echoed with your laughter. You were very grateful that Jungwoo made you laugh, because it helped you forget how anxious everything about your surroundings made you. “Why?”

Jungwoo outwardly processed every emotion and confusion was the most expressive of the plenty. “Pardon?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

Jungwoo stepped forward, inspecting the walls as if he was checking for damages. And there were many. “Because I have something to tell you that I can tell nobody,” Jungwoo said, his usually chipper tone borderline stern. “But first I need you to tell me what you know.”

Those weren’t exactly inviting words, but it was Jungwoo. You could trust him. Or maybe you wanted to, at least, but you couldn’t even trust Jaehyun. You confessed, “Assuming you mean the piano, it’s nothing much. But I know it’s connected. To the sounds I hear at night, I mean.”

“Oh, the walking. And the whispers,” Jungwoo said like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

You shook your head in disappointment. You weren’t fucking crazy and Jaehyun’s family wasn’t going to trick you into thinking that you were. “I knew I wasn’t the only one.”

Jungwoo’s tone was only slightly accusatory, “Jaehyun doesn’t know that you’re investigating.”

You frowned. He was a little too good at this. “You didn’t phrase that like a question.”

“There’s no way that he would let you get this close.”

“It’s been justified,” you huffed, irritated. All this secrecy and suspense was killing you. You just wanted to get to the heart of… whatever.  

Skeptical, Jungwoo’s head was tilted. His loyalty was in you, but also the heir. “Has it?”

You donned your most assertive voice and reasoned, “Jaehyun is obviously keeping something from me. Things that keep me up at night for hours. I refuse to continue my life in such a manner. It’s an eye for an eye.”

Jungwoo listened to your rant and agreed that your actions were justified. Thus he would be keeping this between the two of you. With a nod, Jungwoo replied, “Okay, I understand.”

You nodded. “Good.”

“But I also understand the prince.”

Your eyes darted to Jungwoo. 

Before you could part your lips to speak, Jungwoo added, “Because once you know the truth, it spreads and festers like a wildfire. If you let it, it can consume you. That’s why I hate that you know this.”

“I don’t know anything,” you grumbled. 

“Jaehyun’s grandfather used to own that piano in his bedchamber,” Jungwoo started, passing down what only moments ago he thought was useless info. 

“Yes, I know. Jaehyun told me.”

“Yeah, well, his grandfather was extremely territorial with the piano,” Jungwoo said hesitantly. “If there was a problem, he cleaned it himself. Mended it himself.”

You were yet to understand what that had to do with anything. “Sounds like he just didn’t want anybody touching his stuff.”

“That’s what my dad thought, but apparently anybody who touched it either died mysteriously or disappeared without a trace soon after.”

Your expression shifted from confused to painfully perplexed. “That’s foolish.”

“I told you that my father worked here. He thought it was rubbish. Then, one day after leaving to clean that very bedchamber, he never came back home,” Jungwoo said, willing himself to keep it together. After so many years, grief was a nonfactor. Despair was channeled into anger.

“Jungwoo…,” you trailed, choosing your words carefully. You knew what it was like to lose somebody. “Are you sure?”

Jungwoo’s eyes were sharper than you had ever seen them. You never knew such an easy-going guy was harboring so much pain. “I’ve been told that because I’m grieving a loss, I’ll believe anything for closure. I don’t agree. There’s something fishy going on and unlike the others, I’m not afraid to admit it to myself.”

“This is a lot,” you told him. 

Jungwoo nodded, wholly aware. “True, but it doesn’t stop there. Did you know that Jaehyun had an older brother?”

Your shoulders stiffened, because you recalled mentioning that Jaehyun was an only child yesterday, and he became deflective. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, four years older. Apparently, he died after falling out of a window.”

You grimaced. “He commited suicide?”

“So the story goes,” Jungwoo answered, but his tone said loud and clear that he didn’t buy it for one goddamn minute. “And get this - he fell from the window of his grandfather’s bedchamber.”

Scratching the back of your head, you asked skeptically, “How come the public didn’t know about the first-born son?”

Jungwoo snorted. “I had a feeling that you would ask. The royal family waits five years before announcing the birth of their children. Isn’t that convenient?”

“Almost too convenient,” you mumbled under your breath. If Jaehyun’s older brother died just shy of five years old, that would’ve simplified the process of covering up his death. 

Jungwoo glanced over at you, aching. And maybe a little desperate. “Do you believe me?”

A tiny sigh escaped your mouth and you planted your palm on your forehead, overwhelmed by the load of information that was just dumped on you and unsure what to do with its weight. “If what you’re saying is true, this is dangerous,” you replied levelly. 

Jungwoo huffed, “You’re telling me.”

“But Jaehyun and I have touched the piano on several occasions. I play it every night just so that I don’t have to hear those godawful noises,” you added, hesitating. “Shouldn’t I be dying?”

Jungwoo fell silent for a sudden, mulling something over. Then, he said quietly, “There is another possibility...”

“What?”

“Perpetuity,” was Jungwoo’s response, voice quieting even though only you were there to hear him. “This one I’m not so sure of. The rumor is that if you touch the piano, you meet one of two fates. Death at your hand, or being condemned to your worst nightmare. It sounds like bullshit.”

His confidence seemed to waver, but you were interested. You were driven by a determination to discover all there was to know about this godforsaken place. “How exactly is one condemned to their own nightmare?”

“Your deepest fear will become your ultimate fate,” Jungwoo explained, wrapping his arms around his torso. “Your worst nightmare will come to life. And you’ll live it everyday until you die.”

You devolved into nipping cold shudders. And it had little to nothing to do with the basically subzero temperature of the room that you occupied. Of course, Jungwoo didn’t mean literal nightmares, but it didn’t help that not too long ago you were being haunted by bad dreams. 

Your worst fear was living the same day for the rest of your life. Adventure was your natural instinct and curiosity was your vice. It’s what you stood for and a part of yourself that you refused to negotiate. You could’ve had every dollar that the world had to offer, but you would never gamble away your freedom. 

Thankfully, this life gave you more than enough. So what you were expected to be beautiful and ladylike when people had their eyes fixed to you. Did it matter? That didn’t change that when there was nobody there to judge you, you were liberated. 

Because it had always been that way, ever since you were a kid. You knew that to some people your existence served one purpose. And you didn’t care. You got to be yourself in the solace of this gigantic palace. 

At least for now. Freedom came with a sacrifice; your own sanity and peace of mind. And truth be told, you weren’t sure if it was a fair trade. 

“I’ve been having these dreams,” you started, swallowing. 

“What kind of dreams?”

“Bad ones,” you confessed, wanting to curl into yourself. Those dreams put the fear of god into you. “When the noises weren’t keeping me awake, these nightmares would take their turn. Jaehyun hunted me down in all of them. And I would wake up after he catches me.”

Jungwoo noticed that your voice was a little shaky and offered you a compassionate hand squeeze, saying, “It’s okay. They’re not real. Jaehyun wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I know, but…,” you trailed. “I had them repeatedly. Same dream, different night. The only other difference was that they would happen in another place. But they stopped after Jaehyun started taking me to play the piano before bed.”

Jungwoo stiffened. “That’s… convenient.” Like a lot of things here. 

“I know,” you agreed, shaking your head. Just the thought of Jaehyun was making you tremble with anger. You knew he was secretive, but it felt like he was borderline lying to you. 

Then again, Jaehyun didn’t deny that there was something that he was keeping from you. Instead of telling you cheap excuses of consolations, he admitted that there was something grave enough he couldn’t even confide in you about it. And you didn’t know if that was worse. 

Things were beginning to appear increasingly more eerie. “Do you want to know why I took you down here?” Jungwoo asked quietly.

Bobbing your head, you shifted to give Jungwoo your undivided attention. Something about the vibes of this room put you off. You didn’t like it. You could sense that something heinous had occurred maybe in the very spot that you stood. 

“The prince’s grandfather spent a lot of time down here.”

“Really?”

Jungwoo nodded. “Apparently, he flipped out one day and trashed the whole place. It happened a few days before he passed, so the story goes. Then, they relocated the cellar and closed this room off.”

That explains the mess, you thought to yourself. But not much else.  “Why would they do that?”

“Like hell I know,” Jungwoo replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “My bet is that they’re hiding something. Which we already knew, but I get lost every time I try to figure out what it is exactly.”

“You aren’t the only one,” you droned, releasing a pained breath. 

Jungwoo mustered a smile, but it was thin. “Well, if it’s quite alright, I would like to return to my duties, Your Highness.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for everything. You’ve been a great help,” you said, bowing respectfully in gratitude. 

Jungwoo mirrored your movement. “It’s been a pleasure,” he told you sweetly. “I can’t skip out on my daily responsibilities, but if you ever need me, say the word and I’ll come.”

After thanking Jungwoo again and him assuring you that you weren’t in any way indebted to him, you trailed him up the creaky stairs and headed your own separate ways.

The brightness of the hallway compared to the lifeless cellar made you squint your eyes and wobble towards the edge of the stairs as you took a moment to readjust. Your brain also needed a second to process the newfound information. Now you had more answers, but twice as many questions. 

Maybe Jungwoo was right. Maybe knowledge wasn’t power; it was a burden. But you were already in too deep to quit looking. 

Jaehyun was too preoccupied to accompany you to his grandfather’s former bedchamber tonight and thus you opted out of the visit altogether. Of course, you knew what would inevitably happen if you didn’t press those keys, but you had an aggressive curiosity to sate.

The piano and your dreams were related. You knew that now. But if one of the piano’s unpredictable fates was to prolong its victims' agony, how come it abated yours instead?

For half a second, you wondered if Jungwoo was really telling the truth. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but something came to you and whispered not to trust anyone. 

Not even Jaehyun. Hell, especially not Jaehyun. 

Pulling the blankets over his thighs, Jaehyun glanced over to you as he crawled into bed and asked, “Did you have a good day without me?”

“It was long without you,” you replied, plopping a glass of water at your bedside in case you got thirsty. 

“I’m sure. What did you do?”

“A little bit of everything. I had the most wonderful dinner. I only wish you could’ve stuck around for dessert. The chef said he misses cooking in front of you.” It was only partly a lie. Your weakened appetite wouldn’t allow you to eat in spite of the full-course meals prepped for you. 

Jaehyun was smiling at some passing memories of him tagging along with you to aggravate the chef with curious banter. Though you mainly did all of the talking. “That’s good,” he said, chuckling quietly in amusement. “Tell him that I’m sorry I wasn’t there to hush you.”

Rolling your eyes, you grumbled, “Whatever.”

Jaehyun's infectious laughter filled your ears again. “Goodnight,” he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to your brow.

“Goodnight,” you said back, releasing a shaky breath. For all of a second, you forgot that you were mad at him. His arms felt safe. Like home. 

This is your home now. A cool shudder wrecked through you. How Jaehyun could feel so dangerous but so inviting all at once was beyond you. 

You sank to your bloodied knees, unable to withstand the cramp shooting its way up your calves. Your tireless sprinting left you with just enough strength to crawl behind a door, thanking god that it was unlocked and quietly pushing it closed. 

The space was completely silent, save for your labored breaths that you endeavored to suppress. Jaehyun couldn’t have been too far. It was a blessing that you even managed to escape him.

For now. Something told you that he wouldn’t give up so easily.

Pure darkness suffocated you with its chokehold. You glanced up and searched desperately for a light source. Your surroundings were virtually invisible. Propping your hands on the door, you pushed yourself off of the floor and groped the wall for a light, finding a chain and tugging it impatiently.

It took a couple of tries for the lights to flicker on. The space around you was hardly any less dim, but at the very least, you could make out where you were.

“Darling, come back,” called out Jaehyun’s featherlight voice just outside of the door. “Let’s just talk. All I want is to talk.”

He was closing in. You never realized your heart could thump at this quick of a rhythm. You never imagined the day where you would be terrified for your life. Your eyes winced in pain as you moved along the cracked wall, but you couldn’t stop. 

Shivers tensed your entire body as you descended down the hallway. Bare feet hit the cold naked floor, because you opted out of running in heels minutes earlier. 

Jaehyun’s footsteps came louder, closer. You swore quietly to yourself, realizing that the lights might’ve shone under the door and given you away. But the harder you tried to move, groping the wall for purchase, the more tempted you were to cry out in excruciating pain. 

And then the worst happened. The door opened, a fraction of outdoor light stretching down the hallway to where you stood. 

Your heart screamed in panic and alarm. Fear was merciless. None of this was fair. Jaehyun could give chase for hours, and he would if it came down to it, but you were running on empty. 

“Baby, I know you’re in there,” Jaehyun called out gently, yet menacingly altogether. 

It took everything in you not to mutter, “Fuck,” under your breath as you tried to get further and further away from him, hoping and wishing that he wouldn’t follow you if you were quiet enough.

Taking in one deep inhale, you tried to stabilize your breathing, but after running halfway across the palace, your work was cut out for you. You walked inch by inch, careful with your motions in case your injured legs misstepped and you came to the ground with a resounding thud, and moved as soundlessly as you could. 

To your shock, you came across a stairway. In spite of how strangely familiar it seemed, you didn’t know where it would take you, but there was absolutely no way in hell that you were turning back.

 It was only down from here. 

Except there was a problem. The stairs had no railing and you didn’t trust yourself to feel your way through without tumbling down to your doom. You dropped to the floor again, putting your back to wherever the stairs led, and began to descend. 

Jaehyun’s footsteps let you know he was still there, easing his way down the dark hallway. You didn’t understand why he walked so leisurely, taking his time to capture you. Almost like he knew you wouldn’t get far either way. 

Your feet passed one stair at a time, cautious. You didn’t want to make any noise, but that ship sailed when one of the stairs creaked loudly. They reacted unfavorably to too much pressure, whining in response. 

Panic made your blood thump in your ear and you hoped that Jaehyun didn’t hear, but you gave up on that when he said, “Darling, I can hear you.”

With all hope gone, you scurried down the stairs, ceasing to care about how safely you got there as long as you still made it alive in the end. You didn’t focus on breathing. Only on getting the fuck out of here.

You kept glancing up the stairs just to make sure Jaehyun wasn’t too near until your foot touched a different cool surface and you knew you were at the bottom. When you turned around though, your terror only intensified. 

There was no place for you to go. Nowhere for you to run. There were no other paths for you to take because the room was a dead end. 

“Give up, baby,” Jaehyun said, finally at the top of the stairs. He was coming down, slowly but surely, and he was going to take you. “I’ve got you. There’s nowhere else for you to run.”

With every step he took down the stairs, you took twice as many backwards, wobbling towards a wall. Like there was some kind of secret passage that would save your life. 

There was no use anymore. Jaehyun set his feet on the floor and grabbed you just as you tried to turn away from him, pulling you into his open arms. You never stood a chance. He was stronger than you. Faster than you. 

“It’s all okay,” Jaehyun whispered as you sobbed, your back burning wherever his fingers attempted to soothe you. “We’re together now.”

Your body veered to life, jerking awake. Your eyes instinctively snapped to your legs, searching them for injuries, but at worst they looked slightly stiff. 

The rest of you trembled. You knew this was going to come, but it felt worse than you remembered. With a quick glance to your left, you noticed that Jaehyun wasn’t there. 

You didn’t know if it was really something that you should’ve thought twice about or if the circumstances were just naturally making you suspicious. Either way, you wanted to know where he was. After a long day of handling his responsibilities, he should’ve been unable to leave bed, and yet, his side of the bed wasn’t even a little warm. 

Too cold for him to be in the bathroom. Too cold for him to take a quick trip to the kitchen for a midnight snack. 

You impulsively decided to investigate and rose to your feet, putting your toes in your slippers and stealthing down the corridor. You didn’t know where to look, but it helped that you saw a light coming from just down the hall, and you followed it discreetly. 

All it would take was one wrong move for Jaehyun to overhear your footsteps. There didn't seem to be anyone patrolling down this corridor, which was typical, because Jaehyun’s family usually had their guards stand outside the entrance doors. 

That only meant that you had to be quieter. The door to Jaehyun’s office was wide open, inviting anyone to see what he was up to, but you didn’t want to make yourself known yet. You wanted to see who he was when you weren’t there. 

Ignoring the formidable stares of the statues, you crept closer to Jaehyun’s private office, breathing solely through your nose. The same hallways you loved to cruise seemed so much scarier when the lights were off.

Finally, you approached the light, hearing chatter the closer you grew to the door. You attached yourself to the wall, peaking your head inside ever so slightly. But when you saw what was happening inside, you stifled a gasp. 

Jaehyun was at his document-laden desk, looking far from exhausted, and he was sitting face-to-face with Jungwoo. 

“Accordingly, I will have to take charge of the country a little longer and my parents duties will fall into my palms,” Jaehyun said, folding his arms across the desk.  

Given that you were at an awkward angle, you couldn’t see Jungwoo's face, but you could hear the confusion in his voice, “I understand, Your Highness, though respectfully, I don’t see why you asked me here.”

“I’m requesting a favor.”

“May I know what it is?”

You shuffled to get a better glimpse into Jaehyun’s office, but scraped the floor with your heel in the process. You swore under your breath, hoping they didn’t hear you, and sensed your heartbeat quicken. 

Jaehyun stiffened in his chair. “Did you hear that noise?”

“Well, this palace is infamous for them, but I’m afraid that I can’t say that I’m a victim of sound,” Jungwoo replied, cocking his head to trail his gaze where Jaehyun’s had fallen. 

Your face tensed with confusion. Jungwoo didn’t hear the noises?

“That’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun said, standing from his seat to investigate. 

At the sound of footsteps, you quickly tiptoed towards a nearby door, pushing it open and squeezing yourself between hardware supplies. It was a tight fit, but you only focused on avoiding Jaehyun.

He glanced around both sides of the hallway, as if he was preparing to cross a bustling road. There was nothing. You were hiding in a closet merely a few feet away. 

You exhaled a quiet breath of relief when you heard him retreating, but frowned when you heard the door close behind him. You were clueless. What did Jaehyun have to hide? And with Jungwoo of all people, you wondered. 

Stumbling out of the closet and into the darkness, you crossed your arms. Jungwoo was one of the few people you found reliable here, but there was something he knew right now that you didn’t. You turned the corner to withdraw back to Jaehyun’s bedchamber, immediately jotting down a mental note to press him about it later. 

When you came back to bed, you found yourself still nervous without Jaehyun beside you. And you rebuked yourself for it instantly after. 

You didn’t realize it in your sleep, but the place where your dream occurred was the cellar Jungwoo had taken you to. Only darker. And with a soon-to-be king chasing you to the end. 

You shook your head with a groan, deciding that you would catch some sleep. For whatever reason, you had a strange feeling that you’d be needing it soon.

To your shock, it was daylight when you rose again. Somehow, you actually slept through the entire night. The only sounds that jolted you awake were those of impatient knocks coming from the bedchamber door. 

You exhaled grumpily and groaned, “Can I help you?”

“Good morning, Your Highness. Per your husband’s wishes, I’ve come to wake you for your schedule today,” came Jungwoo’s voice. 

Your eyes snapped open. Glancing to your side, you noticed that Jaehyun wasn’t there, and wondered if he ever returned. “I wasn’t aware that I had anything scheduled for today.”

“It was arranged overnight.”

“May I ask what was arranged?”

Jungwoo answered, “There will be a dinner party this evening in the east wing in honor of His Highness’ grandfather. The staff will be coming to style you shortly.”

Huh, I didn’t know that his grandfather’s birthday was today. Then again, Jaehyun was very private. “Okay, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Before he could run off to take care of his other tasks, you called out, “Jungwoo?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

You considered asking Jungwoo about his encounter with Jaehyun the night before, but decided at the last minute that you didn’t need him to know that you had been there. “Nevermind. Thanks a ton.”

For a whole day, you were kept preoccupied in Jaehyun’s bedchamber with a number of women fixed to you. The hours were so busy that you barely had time to think about your ongoing crisis. And half of you wondered if it was deliberate. 

At least for a minute, you did. With the corset throttling the life out of you, it was difficult to focus on anything else. You were grateful when they lessened the pressure on your organs. The dress was a sparkling royal blue, like you suspected the bulk of the guests attire would be. According to Jaehyun, it was his grandfather’s favorite color. 

It took hours for the women to finish with your makeup and hair. When the final touches were added, it was rapidly nearing dusk. The sun would be retiring below the horizon and the moon would settle over you now, quietly watching. 

Just after seven o’clock, an nth staff member came to escort you to the ballroom on the east wing. You were disappointed that Jaehyun hadn’t come, but sucked it up. Like you, he had most likely been preparing for the party. He must’ve had other roles to fulfill. After all, it was in honor of his late grandfather. 

His parents were out of the country, too. You remembered overhearing him mention to Jungwoo that their visit had been extended for whatever reason.

In a nutshell, he was a busy man. 

Most eyes fell on you when you entered the ballroom’s double doors. You greeted anyone nearby courteously and extended them a polite thanks for coming, as a princess should welcome her guests. 

But your attention was quickly drawn to your husband. You were still mad at him, or at least part of you wanted to be, but he looked mighty fine in that royal blue suit and his dark hair slicked back to hell. Goddamnit. 

“Jaehyun,” you said when you finally caught up to him, almost out of breath. He refused to stay in one place for longer than a minute, one-by-one mingling politely with the crowd. 

“There you are,” Jaehyun said, appearing more than glad to see you. Then, he grabbed your wrist, pressing his thumb to your pulse with an arched brow. “Your heart’s beating fast. Did you run a marathon before you got here or something?”

“Or something,” you murmured, shaking your head. Your husband was light on his feet. 

Jaehyun said to a server passing by, “Please get my wife something cool to drink.”

“Yes, immediately, Your Highness,” the servant replied, making a break for the kitchen. 

In the meantime, you scanned your husband. Other than his sexy suit that had your mouth watering to hell and back, Jaehyun was sporting a beaming smile, grinning from ear to ear. He looked happier than usual, in a way. 

“You’re giving me that look.”

You flinched. His voice broke your thoughts, but your eyes kept wandering; wondering. “What look?”

Jaehyun retorted teasingly, “The one that makes me feel like you’re going to eat me.”

You snickered. “It’s your grandfather’s birthday. He’d be turning in his grave.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind as long as we had fun. My grandfather was big on milking a celebration for all that it was worth. He partied until his last breath,” Jaehyun joked. 

That was delightful news to you. “I didn’t know royals knew how to really party.”

“Please. You should see my mother after three shots of vodka when there’s no camera rolling. She’s full of crazy.”

Your heart simpered. There was a lot you didn’t know and hadn’t seen about this family. Remembering the thought itching at the back of your mind, you wanted to mention how he wasn’t in bed last night, but didn’t know if it was a good time. Instead, you opted for a quiet, “You didn’t tell me your grandfather’s birthday was close.”

You expected Jaehyun to respond with something deflective, but it caught you off-guard when he replied honestly, “There’s a lot of things I don’t tell you.”

Your eyes shone with shock, but you played it off. “Like what?”

Jaehyun kept his eyes fixed to your face without a word, as if he was studying you before making his move. “Darling, If I told you all there was to know about me, we’d be here for days,” he finally said. “Maybe weeks.”

“I want to know you,” you whispered, something poignant in your voice. 

“You do know me.”

The gleam in your eye shifted from sad to vicious, to coy. “Do I?”

Jaehyun nodded his head, gently smoothing a hand down the small of your back. “Yes, you do. I may not always lay my heart on the line, but deep, deep down inside, you know me. The real me, baby.”

Your eyes were staring into Jaehyun’s, like they were trying to forcibly peel back his layers and bare his soul to you, but it was all in vain. All you could liken it to was looking at someone with drunk double vision, your eyes deflecting two different images of him and your mind unsure of which one to trust. 

Sometimes I feel like you tell me just enough to keep me satisfied. And then you feed me more crumbs when I start to get cranky, like giving a bottle to a baby. 

“That drink you wanted, sir,” came a manly voice from beside you. 

“Thank you,” Jaehyun replied politely, handing you the glass of water. 

You accepted it gratefully, although your thirst was no longer for anything tangible. Nothing that you could touch with your bare, naked hands. It was for something deeper. 

Only a couple seconds later, Jaehyun said, “Well, I’d better get going.”

Your eyes went wide. “You aren’t staying with me?”

“I have some more guests to greet and then a speech to give, and then I should be all yours,” Jaehyun told you, shooting you a consoling grin. “You look beautiful in that dress, by the way.”

Your lips spread into a tired smile. “Thanks. I’ve been wearing it all day.”

Jaehyun snorted and gave you a final pat on the back of reassurance before stepping away. 

The party seemed to drag on without Jaehyun near your side and you were irreparably bored. You chatted with some guests with a polite set of white teeth ready to flash, but only because it was the expectation. Sneaking a couple of peeks at Jaehyun, it looked like he was still making his rounds. 

Usually, the king and queen would help, but they obviously weren’t here. Thus, it was Jaehyun’s problem. He couldn’t just leave his own grandfather’s party unattended. That wouldn’t be in good taste. 

You took a curious glimpse around and wondered how long you could disappear without anybody noticing. Probably only a couple of minutes. The whole ballroom would definitely know if you made a break for the double entrance, but if you slipped away through the kitchen, you had better odds. 

With your glass of water in hand, you casually sauntered towards the little back hallway, hopeful your guests wouldn’t question your getaway. 

When you entered the kitchen, you were immediately asked, “Where are you going?”

“Ten,” you gasped, a hand on your chest. He hadn’t even glanced up from his phone. You nearly dropped the glass of water. It had exhausted its purpose. “Would you ask that to a server?”

Ten retorted, “Would a server enter the kitchen with clacking six inch heels?”

“Touché,” you said. That explained how he knew it was you without even looking. 

Ten was the only son of the family chef and he had no regard for the royal life. Well, that was debatable. Your in-laws would’ve thought he was disrespectful, had they (god forbid) ever met. You took Ten as someone unafraid to challenge the status quo. Of course, the two of you vibed. It was refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t remind you of your title every now and then. 

Ten never, ever called you Your Highness. Not because he thought it was beneath him, but because he recognized your need for a friend. Not a follower. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Just getting away for a second, if that’s okay with you,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

Ten gasped dramatically. “During the party in loving memory of your husband’s dead grandfather? That’s scandalous, babe.”

You scoffed. “Please. You’re not even at the party.”

Ten shot back, “I’m not married to the prince, either.”

Though you didn’t mean it at all, you snarled, “You make me sick.”

“You hate that I’m right,” Ten said boastfully, sporting a victorious grin. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you grumbled. “Where’s your dad? I thought the stew was supposed to be out fifteen minutes ago.”

Ten shrugged. “Smoke break. I wouldn’t eat it if I were you. Gave me the business.”

You winced. “Jesus. Well, I’ll be back. I need some fresh air.”

“I’ll let the hubby know if he asks questions.”

“Thanks.”

Then, you were on your way. 

The corridors were less dense than they typically were, though considering there was an event happening not too many feet away from you, you figured security was keeping a close eye on the hallway on the other side. 

If you were being frank, you had no clue where you were going. You just knew that you couldn’t be in that room with all those people much longer. Maybe you were starting to realize that the royal scene wasn’t for you. Or maybe it was your heightened suspicion planting those thoughts in your head. 

Whatever it was, you didn’t like it. You wondered if Ten would take you in. You had no idea what a day in the life of Ten Lee was like, but it wouldn’t hurt to find out. That was a nice backup plan. 

But leaving Jaehyun would sicken you in ways more lethal than any deadly disease. And Jaehyun would never forsake this life in this castle. 

It was a part of him. 

You’re talking crazy, you hissed to your insane thoughts. Perhaps it wasn’t a great idea to leave you alone by yourself with nothing but your thoughts and the silence that fed them. You might’ve been better off finding a guest with ears prepared to be talked off. 

The east wing was unfamiliar to you although much of it looked identical to the west one. When you somehow traveled back over to your side, it came to your attention that the gardens were nearby. Curious, you made a beeline for the doors, wondering if Giselle was out finishing up her obligations for the day. 

Night had dulled the sky completely when you stepped onto the familiar stone paths. The moon was there in her full glory, round and curvy with a thin veil of mist overneath, and the stars were few. 

The clacking thud that Ten spoke of was a telltale sign of your presence, but you didn’t see anyone there to warn. Instead, the sound grounded you in reality, keeping you as far away from your teetering thoughts as humanly possible. 

Wind was the only other sound. Actually, that was a lie; you heard owls lurking somewhere in the distance and knew they were wide awake. A sign that the night had truly begun. 

“Hello?” you called out. “Giselle?”

Silence. That was strange. These people usually worked from bright and early in the morning until unsettlingly dark and late at night, but of course, if Giselle had gotten off early, you couldn’t complain. Good for her. 

You were prepared to turn away and disappointedly retreat back to the party when you barely noticed something out of place in the corner of your eye. 

Blood. 

You were a curious person by nature. But this wasn’t an inquisitive investigation. This was a precautionary measure to make sure that nobody was injured. 

But what you saw made you physically nauseous, a stir settling in your belly instantaneously. Your first instinct was to scream at the top of your lungs. Giselle was sprawled out just shy of the ice cold stone, lying on her stomach in a thick pool of her own blood. 

“Oh my heavens,” you exclaimed, paralyzed with shock. Or fear. Probably a little (or a lot) of both. 

Given that there was a ladder pressed against a tall tree and pruners almost right near her body, you made the reasonable assumption that she’d fallen. The shock dimmed a little in order so that you could think, and you kneeled over to check her for a pulse, but came to the heart-stopping conclusion that she was dead. 

You backed away from Giselle. Your heart ached for her, but you couldn’t touch a dead body. The smell of death was foreign and overwhelming and you didn’t know how to keep yourself composed. Finding your bearings, you did what any reasonable person would do after discovering a lifeless body. 

You went to find help. 

It looked like an accident, like she had taken a wrong step and made a fatal mistake, but that didn’t mean you could just leave her there to rot. Somebody still had to call the police. And an ambulance. 

Tears blurred your vision as you ran back to the east wing. You couldn’t believe that Giselle was gone. You didn’t want to believe that. She never let you get too close, but you recognized Giselle for the hard-working woman she was that had her life all too suddenly ripped away from her. 

Fuck, this shouldn’t have happened. Giselle divulged to you about how her family needed her. They survived off of her income, her grueling long hours of hot hard work. 

Your mind couldn’t help but come to the worst possible conclusions. What if she knew too much? She was the first one to mention the piano to you and she seemed to be in denial about something. 

No, that’s ridiculous. There’s no way the monarchy would kill a devoted worker for keeping their filthy secrets, especially from their newest addition. She’s been inadvertently doing them a favor. 

Then again, someone was guaranteed to keep a secret if it died with them. Still, there was no evidence that her untimely death and the piano’s curse was even remotely linked together. You saw the scene yourself. It looked like an accident, not a crime. 

That made you remember what Jungwoo told you in the cellar about the deaths and disappearances. About how anybody who touched the piano either died mysteriously or disappeared without a trace. 

You had no way of knowing for sure if Giselle ever touched the piano, but if she was a victim of sound, as Jungwoo put it, that should’ve somehow placed a target on her back. And yours. You shuddered at the thought. 

Spooky sounds meant contact with the piano. You had done more than touched it. You’d played it. Almost every night for weeks. Jungwoo mentioned to Jaehyun that he didn’t hear the sounds, but he never told you if he touched the piano, either. 

But if his father had, then knowing what Jungwoo knew, you doubted that he would. 

Whatever it was, nothing made it easier to cope. Pictures of blood kept flickering behind your eyelids whenever you blinked. Your sobs echoed off the hallway walls with your hurried footsteps, but noticing the double doors finally come into view, you tried to pull yourself back together. 

You subconsciously sighed out in relief when you got there, but when you came to draw it open, the hands refused to budge. “Fuck!” you cursed out. 

Not that anybody would hear you. There was music thumping beneath your feet even outside the door and it would’ve done you no good to knock. It was strange that the door was locked, though. Now that you thought about it, there also weren’t any guards in the hallways. 

But there was another entrance through the back. 

Ten, you thought, already running again. Your legs ached from sprinting in heels, but somebody needed urgent medical attention. And Ten had a cellphone. 

The kitchen entrance luckily wasn’t too far from where you already were and you came prepared to charge through the doors, but those, like the others, were also locked. You started to bang tirelessly on the door, yelling with complete vigor, “Ten, open the door! Someone needs help!”

There was no answer. You tried to beat harder, to scream louder, but every effort seemed useless. With your voice turning hoarse, that glass of water you left inside the kitchen suddenly sounded tempting. 

“What the fuck,” you grumbled under your breath, exhausted and confused and in shock. You needed to lie down, but you refused to rest until help was on the way. 

Why would Ten suddenly leave? Dinner couldn’t have even been ready yet. You didn’t know why he tagged along with his dad sometimes, but you did know that they came and went in the same 

vehicle. 

There was a door just to your left, one that led outside where Ten’s father would’ve parked. You immediately made a beeline for it, curious if they were gone. It was the only way you could rationalize the locked door and Ten’s absence. 

You hoped to see somebody out there, and you did, but they weren’t breathing. 

The chef was on the ground where he usually took his smoke breaks, bleeding as if he was torn from every seam and had been ripped open from every angle. You gaped, fixing a hand to your mouth as you wobbled in surprise, gripping the nearest wall for purchase. 

Turning away from him, you heaved for breath and tried to keep your stomach's contents inside where they were. But there was blood splattered everywhere you looked. And if you thought the stench was overpowering earlier, you were in for the wildest ride of your life. 

This death said loud and clear everything that Giselle’s didn’t. This was no mistake. Matter of fact, this scene was so messy that it couldn’t have not been done deliberately. 

“Oh my god,” you rasped, unsure of what to say. And what to do. Never had you seen a dead body outside of a funeral backdrop and having seen not one, but two very dead people was seriously wounding your ability to think. 

All you knew was that something was fishy. You thought Giselle’s death was a self-inflicted mistake, but you weren’t so convinced anymore, all things considered. This was the second body to wash up, metaphorically speaking. And this one had been undeniably murdered. 

There was a serial killer on the loose. 

Your first thought was Jaehyun and you started to panic, but you consoled yourself with the reminder that he had an entourage of loyal servants to protect him with their lives and shield him with their bodies. He was okay. Giselle and Ten’s father, on the other hand, not so much. 

Speaking of Ten, you still had no clue where he was or what he was doing. For all you knew, he could’ve been the killer. 

No. There’s no way. Ten didn’t have a mean bone in his body, much less a murderous one. Plus, what would he have against Giselle?

And why would he kill his own father?

I don’t know. None of this makes sense. I don’t know why anyone would hurt Giselle or the chef, or anyone for that fucking matter, you huffed, angry. These people didn’t deserve to die. The person responsible would pay. 

Unable to withstand the stench, you pinched your nose and turned for the door. Of course, it would be the only one unlocked. You had the misfortune of seeing what was behind lucky door number three. 

Back in the halls, you only walked aimlessly. You had no idea where the fuck you were going and it was probably a terrible idea to be out and about with an anonymous blood-hungry murderer on the loose, but you weren’t thinking that far. 

Images continued to flicker in your head. You wondered what were the last things these people saw before they died, if they knew what they had coming. And you realized what a shame it was that everything these people knew died the second they took their last breaths. 

You couldn’t wrap your head around this happening. And you wanted to know why. With the chef’s murder, accidents were completely out of the window, and you thought about the piano again. But that made even less sense. 

What business would the chef have with the piano? You doubted that man had ever strayed further than the dining hall. 

Your thoughts traveled even further. Giselle was a gardener. The bulk of her work happened outside and there was hardly any need for her to come indoors when all the tools for her job could be found in the shed. 

More than ever, you needed answers, and more than ever, they seemed impossibly difficult to come by. 

The further you traveled down the hallway, the louder the sound of jagged breathing grew until it finally snapped you out of your biohazard of thoughts. You stiffened with alarm, body alert, and realized it might’ve been in your best interest to locate a useful weapon. 

You ducked behind a corner, not wanting to be caught like a helpless damsel in distress if it was the killer (though only a lousy one would’ve been so noisy), but you heard a groan and knew in your heart that you recognized that voice. 

Peeking around the corner ever so slightly, you noticed Ten clutching his stomach and clinging to a wall for dear life, sticky with hot sweat. And you discerned that he was no threat. 

“Ten,” you called out, approaching him with concern. “What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?”

Ten shook his head, only barely keeping himself standing. You came to grab him and noticed he was burning up a thousand degrees, helping him slowly sit on the floor. “I told you. That stew gave me the business.”

“This isn’t just a stomach ache, Ten. I think you were poisoned,” you said, crouched down to be eye level with him. 

Ten forced a smile even though he was clearly uncomfortable and in a lot of pain. “Yeah, you’re telling me. But my father was the only one controlling the food. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

The mention of his father made your shoulders stiffen. You scanned Ten’s face, wondering if you should’ve told him what you knew. If he was still alive by the end of this, he would find out one way or another. “Ten, have you seen your dad?”

“I know he’s dead.” 

You cocked him a glance. “You don’t sound disappointed.”

“Do I sound like I’m in a lot of pain?” Ten asked. 

“You sound like you’re trying to keep yourself whole.”

“That’s because I’m kinda dying here. I’m sorry if I’m bad at multitasking,” Ten hissed, paling on the spot. 

Your gaze turned apologetic. “Listen, I’m sorry,” you whispered quietly, glancing around the hallway for suspicious onlookers. “I’ve found two dead bodies and I’ve been running all over the palace looking for help. Please, don’t be the third.”

“Trust me, I don’t wanna be any more than you want me to be…,” Ten trailed, wincing. “Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit. I’m gonna die.”

“Don’t say that!” you screamed. 

Ten threw his head back and groaned, “Babe, I feel like my guts are being ripped open, and not in a good way.”

You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Ten was good at keeping the mood as light as it could be as he literally died right before your eyes. And there was nothing you could do to save him. You felt helpless. 

“We’ve got to find help,” you told him, grabbing his hands in yours. 

Ten shook his head. His skin was glistening with a thick layer of sweat and each of his breaths sounded labored. “I can’t move. The room feels so hot. I think I’m gonna pass out.”

He looked like it, too. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, but you fought them back. At the very least, if Ten was going now, he wouldn’t go alone. “Ten, somebody did this to you. You already said your father wouldn’t. Somebody else had to be in the kitchen.”

Ten shrugged weakly. “So many people went in and out of the kitchen. I don’t even know their names. It could’ve been anyone.”

You released a shaky breath. That answer helped no one. 

Ten’s eyes started to flutter and you shook him in your arms, begging, “No, please don’t close your eyes on me. You’re a fighter. Fight.”

“I’m fighting,” he whispered, voice on the verge of silence. “But sometimes we just lose.”

“I can’t lose you, too,” you cried, trembling as you held him. For as long as he was there, breathing and talking to you, you wouldn’t let him think that he was alone. 

Ten shook his head. You knew he had given it his all, because Ten wasn’t the type to go down without a fight, even if he didn’t win in the end. He’d never let someone else claim a peaceful victory. “If I die right now, I want you to know it’s been a pleasure knowing you.”

“Ten…,” you said. Tears made your eyes burn now. You were clenching your fists so hard his hands were probably sore. 

“They might come for you. Don’t surrender. Whoever this guy is, you give them hell until you can’t anymore.”

A lone tear finally slipped past your cheek. “What if I don’t make it?”

“Then you die knowing you did absolutely everything you could to stay alive,” Ten whispered with the last of his strength. 

Your heart was bursting with sadness and unadulterated rage. To watch somebody in their final moments was different than imagining it unfold. This made it even more real. This was a picture you would never forget even in death. 

Finally, Ten’s strength gave out, and you lingered there for a minute even after. Your thumb pressed to his wrist and you noted that he still had a weak pulse. 

You nodded your head. That was enough for you. But you had to find help immediately. 

And you absolutely had to find out who was responsible for this. They would have a brutal punishment. 

You wiped the tears from your eyes and started to run again, but you didn’t get far before you collided into Jaehyun’s chest, and you released a breath of relief when you saw him. “Oh my goodness, Jaehyun. Thank god it’s you. I’ve been trying to get help for ages. Two people are dead and I think Ten’s on his way out.”

Jaehyun’s voice was unbothered. “Really?”

You realized then that the night was far from over. 

You pulled back, suspicious. You just told him that two people had died in his castle. He should’ve been fuming. “Why do you sound so nonchalant?”

Jaehyun’s lips were in a line. “I warned you not to go looking too deep. You should’ve listened like a good girl.”

The realization was starting to settle in, but you didn’t want to know the truth. You didn’t even want to fathom it. For so many weeks, you’d been unknowingly wallowing in ignorance. “This is your fault. You did this, didn’t you?”

“Yes. All of it was me,” Jaehyun said, like he was proudly boasting about his murders. 

You shook your head. You knew there was something going on, something that your husband was at the heart of, but not like this. “Ten’s dying.”

Jaehyun looked and sounded completely indifferent, “Okay, that’s dramatic. He shouldn’t be dead. He’s in for a solid nap, though. And a concussion if he hit the ground too hard.”

That didn’t happen. You had been the one to personally lower Ten to the ground. Either way, you were none too pleased. You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be reassuring, because Jaehyun’s tone was empty and his face was borderline inscrutable. 

Your whole body felt weak. The room was spinning. Your own body was on the brink of collapse. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jaehyun commented, studying your appearance. You probably looked like you had actually run a marathon. 

“You’re a monster,” you snapped, brimming with loathing and hatred. 

Jaehyun didn’t flinch. “It’s been said,” he told you, like it was only a regular insult to him. 

You shook your head. This couldn’t be happening.

Jaehyun took a step closer to you, and you took twice as many back. You wanted to be nowhere near him. This wasn’t the Jaehyun you knew. He was cold. Alternatively, maybe this was the Jaehyun you’d known all along, the one you’d tried to suppress. 

Your mind was showing you the warning signs. She was giving you all the right signals. And yet, you were blind to each of them. 

Jaehyun tilted his head, looking at you with fucking nothing. There was nothing in his eyes. Nothing on his face. “Do you believe in happy endings?”

“Not with you in it,” you seethed, convulsing with a newfound anger you never thought you could possess, much less direct towards your husband. 

Jaehyun snickered for the first time since you’d last seen him. “I’m giving you the chance to have yours.”

You glared at him, wary. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you have thirty minutes to leave this castle and have your happy ending without me, but if I catch you before then, you’re mine. It’s like hide and seek.”

You wanted to rage. This man had the audacity to play fucking games with you when so many lifes were gone and many more were probably at stake. There was no telling who else he’d hurt. “When do my thirty minutes start?”

“Right now.”

You left then and there. You couldn’t stand to be in proximity of Jaehyun for another fucking second. And he didn’t follow. He was letting you think that you had a chance. 

When you turned the corner, safely out of his vision, you could finally acknowledge the beaten and battered condition of your heart. The look Jaehyun had given you only moments ago was unlike any other you’d ever seen. It was colder. 

You should’ve seen it coming. Jaehyun was the missing piece. This was all happening because of his grandfather’s piano, for fuck’s sake. The same grandfather whose birthday happened to be today. Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence that bodies started dropping that same day. 

You were angry. You were hurt. To be honest, you were just the right amount of everything. And yet, you were thinking about how madly you were still in love with Jaehyun. 

Wincing your eyes closed, you wished that this was just a nightmare like everything else. That you would wake up in Jaehyun’s arms and he'd tell you that it was all a bad dream. Unfortunately, the longer the night went on, the more you accepted that that couldn’t be farther away from the truth. 

The only real difference was that Jaehyun wasn’t right on your tail. He was giving you an opportunity to escape and free yourself from this hellhole once and for all. Your shoulders suddenly felt cold when you recalled something that he’d told you.

I would never chase you, Jaehyun had said. I will always have you right where I want you.

The statement made you feel uneasy then, but you overlooked it, because you wrongfully assumed that Jaehyun was harmless. 

You shook the thoughts away. He wasn’t worth thinking about right now. Survival was your top priority and escaping was the only way you’d ever know peace. 

The palace had a grand total of four entrances stretched across its acres - the main gate, the east entrance, the south entrance, and the west entrance. Only the east entrance was nearby. You knew Jaehyun wouldn’t have made this easy, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

You hurried to the nearest exit leading outdoors and breathed only a little easier when you were met with the fresh, crisp night air. Given that you’d been running in heels for what felt like hours, you finally ditched them near a bush and started to run again. 

Traveling to the gate would take forever without a car. The same could be said about the rest of the castle, far from tiny, and you only had thirty minutes on the clock.

You had to make every minute count. 

You wanted to sob, but you focused solely on getting the fuck out of there. You hadn’t forgotten about Ten, but you couldn’t help him here. Jaehyun had apparently taken mercy upon him, sparing his life where he hadn’t hesitated to steal others. 

Why? Was it some kind of reflection of control? Did he realize that Ten wasn’t the root of his need to kill?

Whatever that was. 

“Too much is going on right now,” you whispered to yourself, heart thudding quicker.

For a second you wondered if the other staff you cared for was alright. These were people you saw everyday, working from dusk till dawn, and yet still treated you with respect and kindness. Their sweetness deserved to be spread, not eliminated and forgotten. 

Giselle was gone and had no hope for revival, but as far as you were concerned, Jungwoo was still skipping around with a burden of secrets on his shoulder. Part of you couldn’t bring yourself to fully trust him, not after his disaster of a meeting of Jaehyun, but that didn’t mean he should’ve died. 

Apparently, you and Jaehyun weren’t on the same page. The worst part was that you couldn’t even begin to fathom what he got out of slaughtering his employees like animals. You’d never been able to see inside his head. 

The east gate came into view and you circled in on it, desperate to make an escape. You briefly considered the possibility of Jaehyun being nearby, potentially having taken a closer exit, prepared to hinder you by any means necessary. 

But when the gate refused to budge like you feared, you came to the conclusion that he was definitely far away. Jaehyun was five steps ahead of you. 

He had all of the advantages in this twisted game, you realized. Jaehyun grew up in this palace; he obviously had to know all of the ins and outs, every nook and cranny. It would take you, on the other hand, the entire thirty minutes to navigate from one end of the place to the other. 

This game was never created to be fair. You remembered him showing you little shortcuts along the palace to make your trips shorter. If you wanted to survive, you’d have to fight for your life. 

“Fuck,” you groaned under your breath. You had no way of telling for sure how much time had passed, but if you had to guess, at least ten minutes. 

The sky was dark and mistier than it was earlier. At least it felt that way. The tears stinging your eyes made it even harder to see and you were inching closer to succumbing to the battle. If Jaehyun had rigged it from the start, you knew there was no way in hell you were getting out. 

But Ten’s words rang out in your brain. He was alive for now, but as far as he knew, they could’ve been his final ones. And you knew you couldn’t give up yet.

Mustering the courage to continue fighting like Ten would’ve, you remembered something. There was an emergency exit near Jaehyun’s grandfather’s room. You didn’t care to know why. Bad things just seemed to happen when he was involved. 

Without a second thought, you headed back inside. If you wanted out, you didn’t have a choice. 

Your sanity fought for control against your pumping adrenaline and you came to accept that it wasn’t possible for both to coexist with each other. One or the other. And if you were up against a sicko like Jaehyun, you needed to fight fire with fire. 

You had to degrade yourself to his level, meet him where he was at. You had to become you at your worst version. A hell-raising monster with a thirst for blood. 

There was a familiar ground nearby when you approached the door. The part of the garden you never wandered into, because it was the same place that godawful dream happened. With the pond and stone galore.  

You quickly swiped a pitchfork, throwing it over your shoulder, and when you were finally through the door, started sprinting back down the hallways. The emergency exit was all the way in the west wing and you had less time than you would’ve liked to make it the hell out of there. 

Every bone in your body ached, but you had too much to fight for. You didn’t even know what all was at stake if Jaehyun won, but you didn’t want to know, and you couldn’t sleep beside him at night anymore knowing who he was and what he’d done. 

Turning each corner, you looked around for signs of a lingering Jaehyun before you kept going. Every hallway looked exactly the same as the one that came before it and it made you feel like you were walking in circles, impossible to tell if you were even going anywhere. It was thrusting you far past the brink of madness. 

Minutes passed, but courtesy of the painful yet handy adrenaline rush, it felt like seconds when you found the west wing stairs. Taking the elevator would’ve been a quicker option, but if Jaehyun was nearby, he would know if the elevator was preoccupied, and you had no interest in playing russian roulette with your life. 

But there was a familiarly pungent smell in the air. 

You wanted to be sick when you saw the source. The others were messy, but this death was brutal in ways you had never witnessed. Jungwoo’s remains were perched on the stairs within a pool of nauseating blood, sitting in his own overkill. 

His insides were definitely on the outside. Matter of fact, they were everywhere, decorating a number of steps. Jungwoo was savagely mangled and mutilated, similar to how a wolf would ravage an elk, like his killer wanted there to be little to nothing of him left. 

“Jungwoo,” you gasped in shock, crouching down as your legs started to tremble. 

His dead body was on display. Like the person who killed him wanted you to see what they’d done. And you couldn’t bring yourself to accept that Jaehyun was the reason why.

All the skepticism you had towards him devolved into regret. Of course, Jungwoo wasn’t to blame for any of the wicked stuff happening in the shadows. Like his father, he was a victim. And at the end of the day, like you, all he wanted was answers. 

There was a weight on your chest and an unbridled rage spiraling inside your heart. “I’ll find them for you,” you whispered vengefully. 

Then, you heard it. Scratching in the walls stretching near the stairway. In spite of the several claims of their existence, you’d never heard them until now. Soon after, you could’ve swore you heard a familiar voice. 

Jaehyun. He was in the fucking walls? 

Stepping around Jungwoo’s bloody corpse, careful not to step your bare feet in any stray specks of blood, you headed upstairs with a sparkling revolve keeping your blood pumping. The emergency exit was close. 

It was actually right down the hallway. When you were walking from the bedchamber with Jaehyun, the journey felt longer, but you ignored every glare from those evil statues and came right in front of the emergency door. 

After yanking the knob, it begrudgingly opened and you stepped inside without a moment of consideration. There was no time. Do or die. 

The door closed behind you on its own terms. You just kept pushing. This was your only ticket to escape and though you weren’t exactly sure where the path led, you had no intention to stop and fret about your whereabouts. It was worth nothing though, that the deeper you came, the more it felt like a secret passageway. 

The hallway didn’t look the way you pictured an escape route. The walls were accessorized with portraits and lights. And you couldn’t believe your shock when you saw it diverge into different paths like a crossroad. 

This fucking was a secret passageway. 

There was something else you noticed. Those scratches sounded closer than they had when you were outside, like somebody dragging their nails onto the walls as they walked. 

“What the fuck?” you wondered. 

You stiffened when you heard your husband’s voice, “Darling, is that you? Your thirty minutes are over.”

Nope. Silent as ever, you made for the other path. You were picking your battles. 

Jaehyun was probably closer to the way out of here after all. He would’ve never given you a free opportunity. He was probably guarding the escape just in case you were clever (or lucky) enough. 

His footsteps were slow. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him, and he was in no particular hurry to catch you. You worried that you were walking into a dead end, but when you came out on the other side, there was another set of doors. 

Your eyes flickered between them. You had time to waste before Jaehyun even got anywhere close to you, but you wanted to get ahead. After a moment of carefully contemplating, you made the nerve-wracking decision to go for the right. 

When you stepped out, you found yourself right back where it all began. You were outside, but not as far as you would’ve liked. It was the gardens. You glimpsed around and saw the tree you wed Jaehyun under. 

Though it had been full of white flowers the day you exchanged vows, promising each other eternity, they had unfortunately succumbed to the drier air. 

“That was a fun day, huh?”

Your startled body jolted with alarm and the usual ease that filled you when you realized it was only Jaehyun behind you was nowhere to be found. He was the evil you’d been searching for, hiding in plain sight. 

He had you fooled. He made you think that he was somebody he wasn’t. Worst of all, you believed him. You trusted him, completely and utterly. You were willing to give him all of you at the drop of a dime. 

“Stay back. I’ll hurt you,” you threatened, posing the pitchfork in your sweaty hands. 

Emotion flickered over Jaehyun’s face; amusement. “A pitchfork? That’s really medieval, don’t you think?”

Your tone darkened, “I’m warning you.”

Jaehyun stepped closer, leaving himself open and vulnerable. “Then, do it. I’m right here. I have no weapon,” he said, holding his hands above him. 

Panic settled in. It occurred to you that your feelings for Jaehyun would never let him hurt you unless your own life was threatened, and for some reason, you believed that Jaehyun would never hurt you. He had all of the opportunities. Yet he had never a finger on you. 

Plus you still needed answers. For yourself, and for the people whose lives were taken because of them. Tears stinging your eyes again and a shattering echoing out in your heart, you tossed the pitchfork aside and roared, “I hate you!”

“That isn’t true,” Jaehyun said, gentle and tender. His voice was loving, but his eyes were soulless. “You love me. I make you happy.”

You shook your head vigorously. “I’ve spent the past couple of hours in distress, all because of you. Why? What’s really going on, Jaehyun?”

“At the end of the day, the piano calls, and I answer. The responsibility skipped my father, but it’s what my grandfather did. I didn’t have a choice,” Jaehyun said, wholly convinced that this was some god-given obligation. 

And you were having none of it. It was just excuses. “That doesn’t make sense. You killed all of those people because of a fucking piano?”

“This is why I couldn’t tell you. I knew that you wouldn’t understand. You have to live it to know.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” you seethed, stepping away from him.

Jaehyun didn’t follow. He was comfortable standing there and watching you, because he knew you had nowhere to run. “This isn’t a regular piano. It hands out curses like candy. It’s an entity and to prevent itself from being destroyed, it chooses its protectors.”

The whole world was spinning. Was he trying to tell you that the piano was alive or something? 

“He was the chosen protector - my grandfather, I mean. Like I said, it skipped my father and went to me. The piano gives anyone that touches it one of two curses to protect itself. I only enforce that fate.”  

The world around you was starting to blur. Jaehyun didn’t see those corpses as people. Instead, he saw them as curses that needed to be removed. 

Standing required too much extra strength that you didn’t have. You stumbled and staggered, weakening by the second, and when you started to head for the ground, Jaehyun caught you in his strong arms. “Careful. You might get hurt.”

He was perfectly composed while everything as you knew it was falling apart, piece by fucking piece. Glancing into his eyes, you hissed, “What are the curses?”

“Hm?”

“You said that when someone touches the piano, they get one of two curses. What are they?”

“Death,” Jaehyun said as normal as ever. “Or perpetuity. They have to live their worst fear until the day that they croak.”

You didn’t think that you could get any angrier, but that didn’t even begin to describe the sharp pain heating your whole body up to hell. “You let me touch that piano, you encouraged me to, knowing I would immediately be cursed.”

Jaehyun saw where you were going with this and replied coolly, “If I knew you were going to die, I would’ve kept you away from it.”

“So you knew I would’ve been cursed with perpetuity,” you said in an accusing tone. “Meaning you knew my biggest fear.”

“I might’ve exploited my power. Your every nightmare revolves around me. You’re so scared of me it keeps you awake at night. I had to use that to my advantage. I can’t lose you.”

And there it was. The ugly truth on a silver platter. Jaehyun gave you the creeps and instead of trying to prove his innocence to you, he took advantage of your fear, making sure to create a reality where you would never be able to get rid of him for as long as you both breathed.

This was the end. Glancing at the tree where you exchanged vows only earlier this spring, you realized that everything pointed back to Jaehyun. It always had. 

Pulling back from Jaehyun, because you couldn’t stand to touch him, you snapped, “You didn’t chase me, because you knew that in the end, everything led back to you.”

Jaehyun didn’t deny it, chuckling. Like he thought that he was clever. “Why would I chase you when I’ve already bound you to me?”

You physically felt weak and sick. You didn’t want to believe that Jaehyun had somehow manipulated your fate so that you couldn’t leave him. Your only escape was through death. Every shaky exhale you took ached. 

Jaehyun continued, “That’s why your little dreams don’t make sense. It doesn’t matter how far or quickly you run away from me. I will always catch you without trying. I always get what I want and you’ll never slip through my fingers. You’re mine.”

At those words, you wobbled away, but it was more like a vicious drawback. “You killed Giselle and Jungwoo and Ten’s father. Why?”

Like he was incapable, there wasn’t a lick of remorse in Jaehyun’s voice when he replied, “I put Giselle out of her misery. She had the perpetuity curse. No matter how hard she worked, she was going to be doomed to her worst nightmare for the rest of life - dying poor. I only made it happen sooner. It was quick.” 

You felt like regurgitating yesterday’s lunch the longer this conversation happened, but you held it back. 

“Jungwoo had it coming. He didn’t have the curse, unlike his father, but it was obvious that he had a thing for you and it was disgusting. I honestly did him a favor. He doesn’t have to live in pain anymore.”

Had a thing for you? You never got that vibe from Jungwoo. He was polite and respectful, and you treated him likewise. You never thought you would get a man killed for his manners. 

“And the chef,” Jaehyun began, pleasure flickering onto his face for the briefest of seconds, but you swore it was there. “He was just practice and a victim of opportunity. It’s been a minute. I’m rusty.”

“You killed him for no reason,” you spat. 

“It appears that way.”

Your body recoiled with every unpleasant feeling it had to offer. “You killed Jungwoo for no reason, too. He was just a nice guy,” you said through gritted teeth. 

It was like the angrier you got, the calmer Jaehyun stood, taking every one of your metaphorical hits like they were a gentle nudge to the shoulder. “I killed him out of love for you. He wanted what was mine. I had to remind him of his place. He was a nobody.”

Turning away, you decided that you couldn’t look at Jaehyun any longer. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You were upset and disappointed and everything in between. 

Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed to that goddamn tree. “I had no feelings for you at first. Marrying you was just another duty I knew I had to fulfill for my country. It was business. But then we started to get to know each other, and I fell for you.”

“I had feelings for you too,” you croaked, voice shaking with pain. 

Jaehyun was quick to add, “You still do. Don’t you see what I did for you? I turned you into royalty.”

“I never fucking asked you to,” you screamed off the top of your lungs. Letting the whole palace hear you for all you cared, if anybody was still alive in there. “I married you because it was what my parents wanted. I just happened to actually like you for a minute.”

“You’ll come around,” Jaehyun said nonchalantly, unfazed by your aggression. “You’ll realize that you were made for me. And you’ll accept that our love was written in the stars.”

There were no stars when you glanced into the night sky. Not even a sliver of the moon. Even she was too ashamed of what was happening under her nose right now and couldn’t bear to witness it unfold. 

But it dawned on you then. The only time you would ever see the moon and her stars again was if you stepped onto the grounds of this very garden. Jaehyun had caught you. You waltzed straight into his trap and now you had to reap what you’d sowed. 

You were his. Whether you liked it or not. You might’ve not ever given up on escaping him, even if it took a lifetime, but for right now, Jaehyun had won. 

“Let’s go, baby,” Jaehyun said, wrapping an arm around your waist. You shuddered. His hands were cold to the touch. “It’s late. We should get ready for bed. We have to stop by the piano so that you don’t have bad dreams.”

The walk to Jaehyun’s grandfather’s bedchamber was quieter than it had ever been. You kept him at arm’s length, ashamed. And maybe a little fearful. 

And there the piano stood in its glory when the door opened, untouched and unmoving. She was evil as ever, wallowing in her curse. Your fingers ran across the keys as the curse wrecked through your blood, present and constant. 

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” you whispered, glancing up at Jaehyun. 

For the first time in a minute, Jaehyun smiled. He replied sweetly, “Darling, it’s okay. You’ll understand soon. We only have each other now.”

You didn’t want to know what that meant. Instead, you pressed your fingers to the bitterly cold keys, squeezing your eyes closed as you played a melody by heart.

Finally, tears started to fall down, gathering on the keys. Then, you realized that you weren’t a victim of sound, but an indulger. Your body was there, but your mind was with nature. With the blowing wind and gentle breezes, the rippling water and swimming critters. 

Your mind was with your friends. With Giselle in the garden, helping her trim branches and plot plants for the queen. With Jungwoo, exploring new places around the palace that you never knew existed. With Ten, rambling about anything and everything under the sun. 

You escaped through every harmonious noise, fingers pacing ruthlessly, and keeping your eyes closed as you pretended that everything was okay. 

Jaehyun came behind you, resting his head on your shoulder while his arms came around you again. His touch was familiar and though it used to keep you whole, when you sat there, defenseless and helpless, you could feel a piece of you break off and die in his arms. 

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Trust (Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader)

Summary: You and Ghost have been captured for questioning. Loyal to a fault, you'll do anything to avoid seeing his face before he's ready to show you.

AN: I'm not immune to military propaganda. Nor am I immune to the babygirlification. In a slump writing wise so I gave this a go. I might try one with Soap next but no promises since it'll probably end up on the never-ending pile of unfinished fics.

Content warnings: Descriptions of torture, injuries as a result of torture, moments of vulnerability (aka 141 care for each other).

Reader uses they/them pronouns and is part of 141. Fic can be read as platonic or romantic.

Masterlist // AO3

A palm smacked across your cheek; the sting brought you back to consciousness. Screwing your eyes up, you tried to settle them in your skull so that you could take in your surroundings. Your hands and legs tied to a chair was what you noticed first. A fold-out table was a few feet out of reach in front of you.

Then, beyond that, a sliver of light in the roof – a hole, not a light bulb – dropped onto a body, bound like yourself and twenty feet away. The carved mask hiding the face was illuminated.

Your body wrenched against your restraints, “Hey!”

Another slap silenced you. You looked up at the offender you had somehow looked over. A lackey. No one you recognised from any intel or manilla folder or briefing, so you surveyed their appearance for just how much this soldier was trusted with.

Single gun on one hip.

KA-BAR on the other.

Kevlar vest that was more slack on the right shoulder.

More weapons that you had, now that your arsenal had been torn from you.

With the clanging of metal, a rectangle of light broke into the room. Room felt like the wrong word. This was too empty, echoey to be a mere room. A silhouette appeared in that light then vanished as the door closed behind them. Footsteps, slow and steady, approaching you, and the lackey left your side.

Ronin Foster bent at the waist to meet your unwilling gaze. He looked almost identical to the photo you’d been given in your briefing about him. One difference was clear: the burn mark running parallel to the left side of his chin. You couldn’t fathom where or how he’d gotten that injury, nor did you have a lot of time to look at it before Foster turned silently and unrolled a sleeve of weapons onto the table.

You caught Ghost’s eyes, the whites stark against the shadows and black paint. He didn’t avoid your gaze. He held it, and even when Foster stepped in the way, you felt that conflicted comfort you had grown to know in the presence of your Lieutenant and his masks.

The rest of the 141 were possibly being held elsewhere. Or they could’ve made it out. But it would take days to reconvene and organise a rescue mission.

This was your new home.

Your training did not desert you as your captor removed his gloves, tugging at the fingers to free them. One reached behind him and withdrew from his belt a gun.

Following the arc of his arm’s swing, his body wrenched around. A slash of agony struck your forehead against the butt of his gun. Your ears rung around the hollow of your skull like the bells of Notre Dame. The room wobbled as you righted your head. You couldn’t make out the details in Ghost’s mask anymore, not as Foster pulled off the skull plate and tossed it aside. Its clattering on the ground punctuated the air. Your gaze wavered against the dizzying disorientation as Ghost writhed to get away. But Foster was still unrolling the balaclava off his face. The second you saw a hint of Ghost’s chin, your eyes snapped shut.

Boots strode across the concrete. Suddenly your chin was grabbed up, no doubt facing your captor. Ghost’s gruff grunts boomed across the gap between you as he struggled against his restraints – that’s what you presumed, your eyes still closed.

But Foster was ignoring that side of the room blatantly, his grip crushing your cheekbones like he could wrench it off and throw it alongside Ghost’s mask. You narrowed your breaths to control yourself. While you couldn’t see, you couldn’t predict what could happen. But your defiance refused to let this awful man dictate when you saw Ghost’s face for the first time.

“Who told you about this place?” Foster asked quietly.

Nothing was heard from Ghost now, besides his breathing. You tried to match yours to his, pressing your lips together, your nostrils flaring against the throbbing pain.

Sharp pain splintered through your big toe, up your right foot. Your body fought the restraints and channelled your masked yelps into the bindings. Slowly, your chest puffed out all the air before sucking some back in.

“You’ve got at least nine more chances to tell me,” and Foster tapped his weapon – presumably the butt of his gun - against the rest of your toes. “Now tell me, how did you find this place?”

Between internal screams, you prayed that Ghost wouldn’t give up, and that his presence would give you the strength to do the same.

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

“Gambit, you still with me?”

You let out a hum, since it was all that your throat would allow. A sigh emitted from your Lieutenant. You couldn’t tell if it was relief or remorse. Sure, Ghost cared for you. You were on his team; it was in his job description to give the bare minimum amount of shits about you. However you could only hope that he gave as many as you did him. Or maybe now you hoped he didn’t, so that the mental barrier holding back the intel didn’t break so soon – or at all.

Your eyebrows raised and scrunched to stretch your face, but your eyes remained shut. Ghost hadn’t said a word about his mask being replaced and you doubted that Foster been kind enough to replace it between sessions.

The sound of the door opening reached you again; you could tell by the pattern of the foot fall that it was Foster. So, you cracked a joke in your head, that you were privileged that a terrorist with a notoriously busy schedule had made way for you and Ghost.

The laughter in your head was cut off when a fist yanked at the roots of your hair, forcing you to face the ceiling. Your eyes winced but still did not-

“Open.”

You waited for Foster’s response to your inaction.

A gloved hand suddenly grappled with your jaw, which was as clenched as your eyelids.

“Your mouth. Open it.”

Eventually, Foster managed to get it open long enough to pour something in. You choked on the first splash but began glugging it down once you realised that it was water and that Foster wasn’t pinching your nose. This wasn’t waterboarding. This was survival – extending your torture to reap its potential benefits. Thus you didn’t savour any of it nor save any to spit back in Foster’s face. Your torturer threw your head aside, strain twinging up your neck. A few seconds later, you could hear similar sounds – Ghost’s turn. That other benefit of not having to see whatever Foster was doing to Ghost. Unfortunately, your shoulders could not reach high enough to shield your ears.

A scrape from the table told you Foster had brought back his tools. Last time he was here, he’d tried to use them on Ghost. However since you weren’t opening your eyes, the effect was not as intended. As a reflex, you attempted to dissociate. One might think the injuries and blood loss might make it easier to fade away from your body. But no, the pain grounded you in your body. So it only made things worse when you found your jaw getting wrenched at again.

“Let them go!” boomed Ghost, causing your heart to ripple against your ribs. Him showing an ounce of care scared you more than Foster did. It meant something worse than before was coming and you were both getting close to breaking.

A bang shattered against your ear drums; the darkness before your eyelids grew a tad bit brighter. Your neck was sharply encircled by Foster’s arm, and your chin struggled against the crook of his elbow. Airway trapped, you were immobilised and drowning on dry land. The grip on you tightened, squeezing your eyes out of their sockets but still you held strong. If this was the last thing you did, you would not betray your friend.

The shouting began, all blended together, overwhelming your fractured mind. It grew and grew into a crescendo of bellows that shrilled with its urgency. Your mind bubbled at the edges a

Then it stopped. A snap. Foster’s weight dropped onto you. Something metal clattered onto the floor. Wet dribbled down your neck.

Thunderous absence of noise surrounded you, your weak attempts to suck in a deep breath barely a prickle in it. You hunched under Foster’s weight. There was no energy left to make a pitiful attempt to dissuade him. You were so encompassed by it that you failed to notice the approaching footsteps right up until you felt the air punctuated into your cheek by this new person’s presence.

A hand wiped at your forehead, lifting gently as it went.

“Gambit, you with me?”

You let out a sigh crossed with a laugh, “Gaz?”

Gaz replied with a chuff of relief, “Let’s get you home.”

The weight on your shoulders was yanked aside; your wrists felt an inch of relief as the plastic bindings were severed. There was din all around again: radio chatter, mumbled remarks about the location, and echoes around the concrete.

You tried raising your head to see “Ghost?”

“I’m here,” and his voice was oh so close now, “I’m here. You’re ok.”

Then you felt the binds on your wrists slacken completely. Your body tipped forwards and your head knocked into someone else’s.

“Gotcha.”

Ghost’s.

“You can open your eyes.”

Your grimy, sweat-stained skin rubbed harshly against his as he instructed you to open your eyes. Your whimper could not be contained as you shook your head:

“No. I don’t want to.”

“You need to open your eyes, Gambit.”

“Your face,” Your arm wavered, preventing you from emphasising your point, “I can’t.” And your body slouched further into him. True darkness took over the edges of your eyelids. The last thing you recalled was being caught by three hands and someone saying your name – not your callsign, but your name.

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

Your feet were in bandages, bones reset, though amputation was not out of the questions just yet. Turns out three days with sprains, breaks, and no toenails were not beneficial to you. It was a good thing that you had been carried to the helicopter and not made to walk

Stiff with lack of use, you deduced, and you didn’t try to wiggle them as you opened up your eyes. The bulbs above your bed burnt your sight; you winced away from them. Curtains surrounded your bed. They protected you from the shame you might’ve felt had anyone seen the state you were in. With a sigh, you willed yourself to sink into the mattress a little deeper and return to slumber.

However a set of approaching footsteps caught your ears. Then a gloved hand peeled back one of the curtains to reveal Ghost, his other arm still in a sling that was stark white against his normal gear and the basic black balaclava that was back where it belonged.

“Gambit,” he said, hesitating in the gap between the curtains before drawing them.

You went to say his alias, but you were halted by a sudden coughing fit. Your throat had decided now was a good time to curl up into sandpaper. At your side, Ghost held the cup to your lips. Your weak hands tried to take over holding it; Ghost’s firm ones curled around yours steady. His gloves were worn and rough like the calloused skin beneath, warm against your feeble fingers.

Once the coughing fit had abated, Ghost sat back in the chair adjacent to your bed whilst not quite making eye contact with you. Normally, he had no issues staring you down. Perhaps he had been worried about you.

Sniffing behind his mask, Ghost said, “You did good not giving up that intel.”

A compliment. He must have been really worried about you.

“As did you, sir.”

His eyes wavered towards the passing clogs beneath the dividing curtain as a medic passed by your section. Remaining rigid, he adjusted the inside of his hoodie pocket before speaking again.

“You should’ve opened your eyes. It might’ve helped you with Foster.”

“He’d’ve seen how I reacted to you. Gauged better how to get us to give up.”

How to get me to give up, you thought.

You continued quickly, “It’s better that he just had you. You’re better at controlling yourself than me.”

Ghost was silent for a while, and you were too. It was only a tad uncomfortable; you chalked it up to your injuries, your elbows being the only thing that really felt relief in this hospital bed. Perhaps that was what compelled you to explain him your reasoning further.

“I didn’t want to see you if you didn’t want me to.”

“You’ve seen my face before.”

“Hardly.” That was true for the most part. All you’d allowed yourself to see was one hell of a chin when Ghost lifted his mask up to eat or drink something in a mess hall. You concluded, “Showing your face is your call, Ghost. Not Foster’s or mine or anyone’s.”

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh. Then Ghost grabbed the neck and peeled his mask up in one smooth motion, his chin on his chest. A shock of dirty blond hair – an inch of it pure white at the roots – was flattened against his scalp, until Ghost’s fingers combed through it twice. It matched his dainty eyelashes.

He looked back up at last. Your sight was stuck mainly on his eyes, still surrounded by their superhero mask painted onto his skin where the holes in his mask had been. Then you started making concentric circles around his face. Scars cut from the corners of his lips through his cheeks. Little ones dotted about his prominent nose, eyebrows, forehead, lips. A few bruises highlighted where Foster had gotten him.

You realised that you were staring with your lips parted and eyes wide so that you could commit his face to memory. But you couldn’t help yourself either.  

In short, your suspicions were confirmed: he was goddamn gorgeous.

He was just about to hide it away again, his matching skeleton gloves going to pull down his balaclava when you sat up quickly.

“Wait.”

Stilling, Ghost waited for you to speak again.

Your outstretched hand closed into a loose fist, “Just… Can I touch you?”

His reply was staggered with a blink, “Yes.” And he leant forwards with his elbows on his knees.

It struck you then why he was so unlike himself: he wasn’t here as Ghost.

The backs of your knuckles clumsily made contact with his right cheek, dragging down his jaw. Simon closed his eyes. His head tilted a fraction against your touch. Tears sprung free and tracked down your cheeks, contradicted by your smile that was brimming with the delight of being trusted.

“You’re right,” Simon mused when he opened his eyes, “Good thing you kept your eyes closed.”

“Yeah,” You sniffled. “But at least now I can tell Soap you’re not ugly.”

Scoffing, Simon tugged his balaclava back over his face and adjusted it to fit properly, “Fuckin’ hell.”

“How wrong he was,” you almost giggled with glee.

Even as the laughter ceased, your smile remained. And you could tell by the small crinkles at his eyes that Simon was too.

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

AN: In my head, Ghost has Marie Antoinette syndrome, but before he had sandy blond hair.

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: The moment we've all been waiting for...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! PTSD, medical trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, smut and feels (and "herb" smoking lol).

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 4: “The Power in You”

In the morning, you woke before the man sleeping beside you. The longer you stared at his peaceful face, the more you wanted to remember why your heart ached just looking at him. And after last night, you couldn’t doubt him anymore. 

Ben cared about you. Your heart could even hope to believe that he loved you, even if that hope surprised you.

He made you feel comfortable and warm. He made you feel safe.

So with these thoughts on your mind, you carefully slipped out of bed and got freshened up for the day. You tried to be as quiet as possible, and when you padded out into the living room on bare feet, you found the rest of the apartment empty.

Marie must’ve gone to work already, you realized, as it was nearly 10:00 a.m. Instead of going into the kitchen for your usual ritual of coffee and rummaging for breakfast, you found yourself all too curious about the man still snoring down the hall.

You decided to venture into the office you apparently shared with him. There was a big crate of vinyl records, a few of which featured Ben on them with various artists of the 70s and 80s. The cheesy album covers made you smile in amusement.

You moved on to the books on the shelves. Most of these seemed to be from your collection, as you recognized your favorites. Your fingers brushed over their dusty spines.

The pads of your fingers paused over something binder-like, not book-like. You pulled it out and realized it was a photo album. So, bringing it over to Ben’s large leather chair, you sat down and flipped it open.

The first pictures were in black and white. You didn’t recognize the young woman in one of them. Not until you saw her again next to a tall, stoic looking man, who had Ben’s facial structure and broad frame. You saw the young and cocky versions of Ben distilled in sepia tones, and it made a smirk pull at your lips.

The further you flipped through the album, the more your attention got sucked in. There was an old-school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at Backgammon. 

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile.

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around you. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

You gasped and held a hand to your temple, flinching at the sudden sensation. You’d taken your medication. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But your vision altered. In your mind’s eye, you saw a dark club where people were dancing to Latin pop. You were clothed in black leather and flashing lights, and someone was spinning you across the dance floor.

As the scenes began to change in flashes, the pain in your head intensified. You whimpered and gripped your head with both hands. The photo album slid off your lap and to the floor.

You remembered being tied to a chair, staring up at Ben’s stoic face. And there were so many other faces you knew that you knew: Hughie and Annie, M.M., Butcher, Kimiko, Frenchie, Frank, Loco, Saul, your mother and sister, Grace, Stan Edgar, your father, Jon…

And Ben. He was standing over you, with worried eyes. You were pinned to the ground this time—a sharp pain in your shoulder.  

“Stay awake.” It was both an order and a plea as the walls of a tower fell around you. 

But it mixed with flashes of a knife carving across your flesh. Of demands and questions over and over as you resisted. 

No, no, no, no…

You didn’t realize that you’d screamed loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You didn’t hear the thundering footsteps that brought Ben tearing into the office. He took one wide-eyed look at you, slumped and huddling on the floor, rocking yourself, holding your head with both hands, and he got down to one knee in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders.

You couldn’t speak. And to Ben, it didn’t seem like you were even hearing him as tears slipped down your face.

“Hey!” he barked, startling you with a flinch, but you blinked faster and looked up at him. Part of him felt a measure of relief at that small victory.

“Tell me what's happening,” he said, with deeply furrowed brows.

He held your face in his hands, and he could feel you shaking under his grasp. You uttered an agonized sound and grabbed onto his wrists, shutting your eyes tight.

“It hurts!” you managed to grit out. “Hurts bad this time.”

For the second time in his long life, Ben felt helpless. That feeling clawed through his stomach and up into his throat. It was like he was watching you fall apart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

…No. His jaw locked as he ground his teeth. No. He wasn’t going to let you break.

“Wait here,” he said. He didn't want to move you, in case that made it worse.

He left you briefly just to grab his cell phone, but he was calling Dr. Jeong on his way back to you. There he kneeled on the ground and pulled you close while he waited for the damn doctor to answer. You clung to his shirt, pressed your face into his chest and wept hot tears.

Ben dropped the phone when you cringed, with a pained cry. He called your name and tried to pry you off him just enough so that he could see your face.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he muttered, pressing a hand to your cheek. “Hey! Look at me!”

There was a long moment where you couldn’t answer him.

Then, slowly, slowly…the pulsing behind your eyes and at the back of your head began to recede. Not all the way, but enough to blink your eyes open and release a breath. You were trembling, with your fingers wound tightly in Ben’s shirt. You were able to let go.

You blinked certain shadows out of the corners of your eyes while you caught your breath. When you next looked up at Ben, you saw that his face was tight with apprehension. It confused you.

“Ben?” you prompted. He took your hand, whether to steady you or himself, he’d never tell.

“What the fuck was that?” he said, his voice edged.

You blinked in shock for a moment as you caught your breath. Then, your lips twitched at a smile.

Ah, you recognized his polite way of asking if you were okay.

“Wow. That’s my caring boyfriend,” you said wryly.

Ben’s expression slackened. You became even more confused, and a little concerned, especially by the fact that you were sitting in his lap, but you both were on the ground. 

“What?” you asked him. Why was he looking at you like that? What was happening here? 

Ben quirked his head at you in wonder.

“How long have we lived here?” he asked. 

Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking you that? But he looked dead serious, like this was a test of some kind.

“Almost a year. What, is your memory fading already?” You joked weakly, despite the way your head was still aching, just much less intense than before.

You realized then that the photo album you made for him for Christmas was on the floor, a couple of pictures displaced. 

“What’s this doing on the floor?” You bent over to pick it up, even though just that small movement made your head swim. “Whoa…”

Ben grasped your arms and righted you. He stared into your eyes. 

“Do you remember what happened two months ago?” he asked. 

He was so damn serious, he was starting to scare you. When you contemplated his question, you realized the fog that had claimed your mind for so long was beginning to lift.

Piece by piece, it returned to you.

You remembered waking up in the hospital, everyone coming to see you, the doctor telling you…

“Something happened to me,” you said slowly, rubbing your aching forehead. Your brows furrowed, and you clung to Ben’s arm. “Am I…am I okay?”

That’s what the fuck I’m trying to figure out, Ben thought. 

He reminded you that you were taken by Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom. Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team found you, but you’d been hurt. Along with your other injuries, your skull was fractured. It affected your memory, among other things. 

“My memory,” you repeated. “Ben, did I…?”

You looked up at him with a small gasp. His face remained stoic, but you saw through it as his gaze veered away from you.

You remembered that he’d been taking care of you with your mother for weeks now. You remembered that you’d forgotten him.

You took his face in your trembling hands. Both sorrow and apology showed in your eyes, along with brimming tears.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry,” you said, through choked emotion. “I can’t believe I…”

Ben didn’t speak, but he met your gaze while trying to stamp down the full force of his relief. He swallowed past an unfamiliar tightening in his throat.

“What do you remember?” he asked. 

“That you saved me, as usual,” you laughed through your tears. “And that I owe you this.”

Your thumbs brushed his bearded cheeks in a tender caress, and you brought him down to kiss you. His lips met yours in kind as his eyes closed. He let out a breath through his nose and held you a bit tighter against him. Part of him was still wary of hurting you further, and reluctant to even accept this as real. 

After a moment longer, you paused, pulling back a little. 

“I guess I’m back,” you said, in the small space between his face and yours. 

Ben sighed. He brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, and he claimed your lips again. 

Dr. Jeong arrived within the hour to check you over, and to confirm that most of your memories had returned. Meanwhile, her team of nurses checked your vitals and prepped you for a blood transfusion from Ben. In your bedroom, you sat up on your side of the bed while a bag of his O-positive circulated into your bloodstream.

A couple of hours of bed rest later, your body was completely healed, and even free of scars. The powerful ache in your head that had become commonplace had vanished. And afterward, the doctors took up their supplies and left.

You were finally able to take in your familiar surroundings. Your fingertips passed over picture frames on your dresser, the ornate perfume bottle Ben had gotten you for Christmas, your favorite throw blanket you’d tossed carelessly onto the floor this morning. You paused for a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.

It was odd to see yourself dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, slightly frizzy hair around your shoulders, your skin free of any scars. You touched your cheek tentatively, marveling at the way you didn’t feel any pain.

Ben’s frame appeared behind you, as did his hands on your hips. You turned in his arms and pulled him into an embrace. You smiled at the warmth you felt through his shirt. Your own portable heater.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked. He had to wonder at how easily you’d slipped yourself into his arms just now. Yet another small reminder that you were his again.

In answer to his question, you gave a hum of contemplation, all while your hands moved down his back. You looked up at him, your lips curving into a smile.

“I think you can guess this time,” you replied.

Ben’s eyes roamed over you, over your face, your body held in his arms, and back up to your lips.

One more added perk of your “medical treatment” had you pulling him down to you by his shirt for a heated kiss. His strength coursed through your veins, making you more solid and energized than when you were once on V24.

Ben heeded your demanding kiss with a near growl as he took you into his arms and walked you back towards the bed. A warning triggered in his mind, however. It had him cupping the back of your head and laying you down with more gentleness than he usually had with you in times like these.

Not to say that he was overly rough with you, but as he positioned himself above you and began to undress you, tank top and pants flung to the floor, you noticed how careful he was being. After you helped him get rid of his own shirt and pants, you slowed things down for a moment, once again caressing his cheek. It encouraged him to meet your eyes.

“Hey,” you said quietly. “You know I’m pretty much as strong as you right now, right? You won’t hurt me. I’m not in pain anymore.”

Ben nodded, releasing a sharp breath. “Right.”

He knew that, of course. He’d just had to get used to treating you like fragile glass over the past two months. Every time he’d helped you, touched you, cared for you, he’d had to use every ounce of his self-control to temper his strength even more so than usual. It was hard to turn that off.

You smiled. An idea sparked in your head, and you pushed at his chest to let you sit up. There you encouraged him to roll over and switch positions, so that he was lying on his back and you were straddling his hips. You slid your hands up his toned stomach and chest and you bent down to kiss his neck.

He closed his eyes as you burned a wet path across his skin. Your lips traveled down his chest, where he slid his fingers into your hair. It prompted you to look up at him with a smile. Seeing him watching you with half-lidded eyes made a small flood of heat pool between your legs.

You couldn’t help but move back up and guide his face up to yours for a kiss. He deepened it pretty much immediately, his tongue hungrily demanding entrance to your mouth as you began rocking your hips against his.

His hands tightened on your waist, but they soon slid up your sides to unclip your bra. He slid down the panties next, and you broke away for a moment to shimmy them down your thighs. You helped him do the same with his underwear.

He gripped at your thighs and ass hard enough to leave serious bruises, if you were normal. Right now though, your bones, your skin, your touch was just as strong as his. Now, his iron grip just made you smile.

The feeling of your smooth, warm skin under his hands, your wet folds brushing against his straining cock, the promise between your thighs, it all made him groan into your mouth. He sat up and held you to him, skin against flushed skin, your breasts pressing against his chest. He grinded his thick, hard length against your core, earning a breathy moan from you.

“Fuck, I’ve fucking missed you,” he admitted. He fisted a hand into your hair and bared your neck for him. He trailed wet kisses that occasionally grazed with teeth. You shuddered against him as your hands splayed against his back.

“Ben, I’m so sorry,” you whispered in his ear. You held him tighter for a different reason.

“Enough,” he said. His words were gruff, but he soothed a hand through your hair. “It’s over. We’re here now.”

You nodded, biting your lip and blinking against the sting of tears.

What you didn’t know was, the last thing he wanted was for you to apologize to him. He couldn’t fucking tolerate it.

Instead, he reached a hand between you and slid a hand down the inside of your thigh, and then two fingers between your folds, and into your wet heat. He wasted no more time in working you open.

He drew a hot moan from you, one that echoed in his ear while his thumb found your clit, and the rest of his fingers toyed with your pussy. You ached to be filled, and your core was already throbbing around his fingers.

You gripped his hair tight. Your hips began to undulate with the tempo of his pulsing fingers.

“Ben,” you implored and whined at the same time. Your inner walls were squeezing his hand tight as his fingers brushed with purpose over that sensitive place, deep inside you.

“That’s right. Fucking squeeze the shit out of me,” he demanded. “Want you gushing all over my hand.”

“You’re about to get what you want,” you panted. “Fuck…”

He didn’t care that your iron grip was threatening to rip a chunk out of his hair. He was stroking you with single-minded precision, until you finally clamped down that much harder on his hand and gasped in his ear. To him, that sound was his own personal symphony. He never got tired of making you come apart, and making you sing just for him.

And you…well, you certainly never got tired of letting him. This time though, you’d wanted to be on top so you could be the one to make him feel good—and give him a little care after everything that had happened. But you couldn’t even argue when Ben rolled you onto your back again. Still, you slid your hands over his chest.

“I wanted to give you some star treatment,” you said breathlessly. You began to sit up again. “Here, let me—”

“You’re gonna let me fuck you deep into this fucking mattress ‘til we break a few springs,” he said. “That sound good for you?”

He bent down and sucked hard at your neck. Meanwhile, he grabbed your thighs and hooked your legs over his shoulders.

“O-Okay,” you agreed, your eyes closing. You gasped as he bit down just under your ear, marking you as his, and earning another gasp of pleasure from you as your body pressed against his.

Then he lined his cock up to your entrance. Once he breached your folds, your squeezing grip on his arms encouraged him to sheathe himself inside you, sliding all the way home.

You shuddered at the delicious feeling of being filled. Your heels pressed into his back, urging him to keep moving. He still took the time to brush his hand against your cheek, a tender caress.

You blinked up at him with a smile. He gave you one back, albeit more reserved. In turn, you swept his hair away from his eyes, like you were wont to do. He secretly reveled in the feeling of it, the familiarity of you. He turned his head and laid a kiss against your wrist.

But after that brief flash of tenderness, Ben pushed forward, quite literally, to steal your breath away. Each new stroke of his cock deep inside you made the coil of warmth and pleasure tighten, for both of you. The sound of mingled breaths and flesh against flesh filled the room as you two moved together. And in this, you two had always been in sync.

His hand moved between you to circle roughly at your clit.

“Come on, baby. At least one more for me.”

You nodded, panting for breath. You moved the angle of his hand to just right, and his last pounding strokes finally drove you over the edge. You came shortly before he did, spilling into you with hot abandon and a ragged sound in his throat.

You two recovered there for a moment. He rested his forehead against yours, and again, you swept your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Eventually, he pulled back and opened his eyes to meet yours. He grasped your free hand off his shoulder and pressed a kiss into your palm. Then he smirked down at you.

“Welcome home,” he said.

Long afterwards, your body felt like warm molasses. You’d both gotten cleaned up and now shared the bed properly in rest. You were half-dozing while you laid warm, comfortable, and naked in his arms.

You’d called your mom earlier to let her know what had happened today, and that you’d recovered fully following the blood transfusion…and if she wanted to grab dinner with Louisa tonight before coming home, then that would give you and Ben some time to “catch up.”

Thankfully, Marie had enough tact to read between the lines. She told you that she’d be back later this evening, and Louisa would come to visit you again tomorrow. 

You were at peace as you trailed lazy patterns across Ben’s chest while he smoked a blunt. 

He deserves it, you thought with a smile. That led you to shift onto your side and rest your weight on your elbow, above his shoulder.

“You know something?” you said. “Thank you for being so gentle with me throughout all this. I know I didn’t always give you an easy time of it.”

Ben shook his head, smiling slightly before he blew out a puff.

“What else is fucking new?” he said. You smiled too, but you still grabbed his chin, so he’d look at you. 

“I’m serious,” you said. “Thank you.”

He sobered, letting out another coil of smoke through his nose. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

Your head quirked. You released him to caress his cheek instead. 

“Yeah, babe. I’m all healed up now,” you reassured.

“Not entirely what I meant,” he said. He hesitated, his gaze dropping, before it met yours again. “…It took us three days to find you.”

That made you dim with more sobering consideration, when you realized what he meant. You had finally remembered what you went through with the Rawlins brothers, held captive in that dark, disgusting cave. A shudder ran down your spine. 

Those memories had only just returned to you a few hours ago, and you’d immediately shut them away in the “don’t file this into your core memories” pile. You really hadn’t had too much time to reflect on that, or even process it all really. 

Tears stung at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled, but you tried to breathe past it, closing your eyes. 

“I’m okay now. It’s in the past,” you said. 

In other words, denial of the purest form.

Ben shook his head with a sigh. He put out his blunt on the ashtray on his nightstand, setting it aside. He slid a hand up your back and gathered you closer against his chest. You rested your head there.

You sucked in a tremulous breath, and your tears finally fell. You sniffed and tried to bat them away, but you let the sound of his heartbeat steady you. 

What you’d been through was…beyond words. It was more than you’d ever been through, even with your father. Even though you were grateful to be you again, there were also things you wished you could forget again. Things that were etched into your psyche, and you were certain you’d see them again when you next closed your eyes.

“It shouldn’t have fucking happened,” Ben said. "This one's on me."

His voice dislodged you from your spiraling thoughts, if for the moment. It drew your eyes back up to his as your mouth parted. You knew that was his way of apologizing.

“Ben, it wasn't your fault,” you said, laying a hand on his chest.

He gave you a measured look. 

“We both know that’s not true,” he said. Always to the point. 

“And…” he began to add, but he cut himself off. You tilted your head at him.

“And?” you prompted.

Ben’s lips pressed together in hesitation. He almost wished he hadn’t set down his blunt. Instead, he looked you in the eyes like a man.

“Your family doesn’t know who’s really responsible for this,” he said. The admission was a small weight off his heart, even though he didn’t want to acknowledge that bit. “All they know is that it was…retaliation.”

You looked up at him then, with a frown.

“You mean Mom and Louisa? You didn’t tell them it was the Rawlins brothers,” you clarified.

After a moment, Ben nodded. "Yeah."

You could thought you could also read between the lines of what he wasn’t saying.

Who’s really responsible for this…

You took in a deep breath, then you released it. You had a feeling your mother would understand if you told her the truth, but Louisa, on the other hand?

“Okay,” you said. “That’s probably for the best, anyway.”

He tacitly agreed, even if the well-hidden depths of his guilt remained. You saw all that too.

Before he reached for his blunt again, you took his hand. You laced your fingers with his, and raised your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss over his knuckles.

“Look, I knew what I was getting into when we decided to be together,” you said. “I don’t regret it, because…I love you.”

Ben’s gaze began to drift away, but you turned his face back to you with a finger.

“I love you,” you repeated, with emotion making your eyes sting. “I know we’ll get past this. Probably with copious amounts of therapy on my end, but we will.” 

Ben considered that with a shallow nod. He couldn’t help but reach for you, cupping your cheek. He bent down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. He stayed there for a moment, just thinking.

You gave him the time he needed, and in the meantime, you let yourself be comforted by his warmth and closeness. You also wiped away your remaining tears, sniffling.

“Okay,” he said, at last. 

“Okay?” you echoed. “What does that mean?”

“This,” he said, and guided your face to his for another kiss. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. And, after a slight pause, he allowed himself to speak an ultimate truth. 

“I love you,” Ben said. His face wasn’t stoic, or reluctant. It was honest. 

“I may not say it enough,” he continued, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “But it's you and me. Like Sonny and Cher. When they were good, before the ugly divorce. Or like Bonnie and Clyde. Just, you know, without the grisly end bit."

You laughed and shook your head incredulously. Sign this man up for Hallmark cards.

Ben made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Whatever. The point is, you’re mine, understand?" he said. "That’s just how it is.”

“Is that right?” you teased. A smile tugged at Ben’s lips as well.

“That’s right,” he affirmed, squeezing your waist. You laughed a little more and settled back into resting against his chest.

“Okay,” you replied. 

And for now, it really was.

AN: Ahh, the end of a series is always bittersweet, no? I had a lot of fun with this BMD mini series, and I hope you did too! I'm sure I'll come back to these two eventually (there are still BMD requests in my inbox), but let me know what you thought of how we wrapped up here with Wake Me Up. 💚

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[atombombkaytee]

I’ve watched the entire series again today in a hungover state and I CAN’T DEAL with all the parallels.

I mean, when Lucy finds out about her Dad’s true actions and origins - her whole world falls apart. She saw the vaults as safety - she looked up to her Dad more than anyone else in the world. She learns that he’s lied about who he is as a man and as her father, but also she must realise that the vault’s are hiding their own dirty secrets (especially after her experience at vault 4) and that her Dad is a part of that too. She even says to Max, after leaving vault 4, that if she destroyed a whole community to save him, he would be heartbroken: when that’s exactly what he did on an even grander and more terrible scale. Lucy’s life wasn’t even in direct danger to warrant that reaction - he’s just an insecure selfish arsehole.

At the very same time we see the flashback scene of Coop hearing Barb suggest that they drop the bombs on America. This woman that he loves and trusts and has made a family with - who he said he fell in love with because she always tries to do the right thing. Their reactions at the point of realisation - shock, inability to speak, almost dissociation - are both extremely similar. Him having gone through that betrayal before (and likely plenty of times since) is EXACTLY why he talks to Lucy how he does. He’s preparing her for the eventual heartbreak - because he has experience which states that nothing could ever be as perfect as she claims her life is. When he’s making ass jerky from Roger, he even tells her: there’s what people say they do and then there’s what they really do.

When you look at all of that, really, in the scheme of things, Coop - the man that she’s seen as this inhuman, cruel, murderous monster - he’s the good guy. He too thought his wife’s business with vault tec was abhorrent. Yes, he’s been warped and twisted by the wasteland and by his own trauma - but he does see this brightness in Lucy. He thought she was just naive and full of bullshit (especially being a vault dweller. Something which I’m sure triggered him considering his past with vault tec and the links to his wife) but when she proved herself by giving him the vials instead of letting him die, he’s probably amazed that there’s someone left in the world who isn’t just a liar and a terrible person. He’s so used to betrayal and violence by this point. She’s a good person - a trait that he literally said he was in love with his wife because of. She softens him.

But she also proves herself in another way - by shooting her feralled mother - showing that she’s also grown and learnt that not everything is black and white. It’s not just “good and bad” in this world. And although Coop has questionable morals, he’s honest, like her. He tells it how it is. Plus, after her Dad’s huge life changing betrayal and her time in the wasteland, she understands a little more why Coop has done all the things that she’s seen him do - I mean he did meet her pretty much day one out of the vault initially - hence why she goes with him. He has hardened her up to protect her in the wasteland.

Wilzig even says “will you still want the same things when you’re a different animal altogether.”

My god. It’s just genius. Absolutely genius.

“You comin’?”

Edit: Can we also talk about how Coop is basically the inspiration for the vault boy - who Lucy basically looks to (physically a few times throughout the series) for inspiration to do the right thing. AND the fact that her Dad was obviously a bit obsessed with Coop and probably still was when Lucy was born, seeing as he’d been in a pod and had only just woken up, retaining recent memories. So Lucy likely watched all of his films and her Dad maybe even saw him as a bit of a role model (or at least his in-film characters). AND the obvious exchange of index fingers. Yup. Honestly if this relationship doesn’t become cannon, I will start dropping bombs too.

ANOTHER EDIT: Sorry one last thing but, I just want to add: nothing that post-war Coop does is personal. It’s either: to get a job done, survival, because he’s been triggered by something (understandable after what’s he been through) or, in Lucy’s case, to teach a (admittedly often harsh) lesson. He doesn’t just mindlessly kill - or particularly enjoy killing - he just has no issue with it, it’s all just means to an end. He even still remembers to pay for his tomatoes in Filly ffs haha… I imagine he’s extremely numb and devoid of all feeling - except for when it comes to his wife and little girl. That’s the only time we see more visceral reactions in either actions or dialogue from him. He’s such an intricate character and Walton did an amazing job of portraying him.

[snailszzzz]

i saw the tv glow is officially one of my favorite movies HERE'S MY ANALYSIS.... OF COLOR!!!!! (spoilers)

okay so obviously it's a metaphor for being trans, yearning yet being so afraid to look inside yourself and change your life to be who you truly are duh

BUT.... I haven't seen anyone talk about the way colors are used, specifically pink and blue. Pink represents femininity/ acceptance of self or owen getting closer to the truth, the show is literally called the PINK opaque, the movie starts with a pink glow on his face ,he has a pink sleeping bag, he's wearing a pink sweater when asking maddy if he can sleepover isabelle's magic dress that owen wears, the markings on the back of their necks etc.

but blue is the denial of self, and his wardrobe for most of the movie is blue, the luna juice is blue, his room is blue THE HOUSE is blue, the cotton candy, after maddy disappears he's at this closed inflatable party place and it's all blue, there's a blue balloon floating in front of him, the happy birthday scene where he starts screaming the room is overwhelmingly blue in fact every work uniform he has is BLUE except for at the end when he cuts himself open it's a button up with blue pink and black splotches.

I don't think this has to be said but it's obviously the girl = pink and boy = blue thing to really show that's it's about being trans

To contrast this maddys wardrobe is mostly greys, blacks and whites this could show she's sure of herself.

edit : maddy cuts her hair after she comes back after she realizes she's tara to be shorter.. like tara's.

Id also like to point out the color scheme of the parachute, he's wearing blue in this. the parachute is also parallel the planetarium, a structure inside a structure, a temporary illusion like the midnight realm they're trapped in.

edit: wherever owen works its places that are active distractions and temporary illusions as well, the movie theater, party places, arcades all bright fun places filled with distractions to make you forget the outside world

guys i've already gone and watched this movie twice it's so GOOD.

[redlikemercury]

𝕊𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝔸𝕚𝕕

𝕊𝕙ō𝕥𝕒 𝔸𝕚𝕫𝕒𝕨𝕒

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

Summary: Aizawa is a single father with needs, and being his new neighbor makes him think all his prayers have been answered.

a/n: First ever post, if you have any suggestions or any advice feel free to tell me :)

cw: black!fem, fingering, oral receiving (f), dirty talk, unprotected, pet name (princess, baby), size kink, edging, dilf. creampie? 18+

word count: 5.5k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

"Ungh! Come on dammit." Aizawa’s legs were nearing their end as he stood there on his last set of back squats. His breathing was shaky and he clenched his jaw, grunting to stand back up again. Bending the knees and hips simultaneously, Aizawa lowered his body down, making sure his knees were tracked over his toes and his heels firmly placed. The veins in his thighs were bulging out as they were parallel with the ground as he maintained stability. He squatted deeper before activating his leg muscles to stand back up again, trembling on his fifth set.

Exhaling deeply, he manages to stand back up again. He was pushing his luck doing two hundred and ten pounds today. Small strands of black hair stuck to his forehead like glue due to the huge amble of sweat that trickled down his phone which was placed on the ground. His phone had dinged, when he looked down and saw a notification, Eri had just made a purchase off her iPad on Roblox. He sighed, obviously annoyed with the matter. Eri tended to pay for things without his permission, formed from the amount of spoiling she gets from him. Aizawa finished up his last set, before heading over to the children’s play area to confront her about it. “This child is a handful sometimes.” He mumbled to himself, using a towel to dry off his drenched face.

While coming out of the gym down the hall, you’ve bumped into his sweaty chest by accident. You backed up and cleared your throat getting ready to apologize, until you saw him. Aizawa’s body glistened with perspiration, every inch of his physique was defined by his bulging muscles, a full display of his fierce training regimen. His broad shoulders and chiseled chest created an imposing presence as an overcasting shoulder was cast upon you. The veins in his biceps seeped through. Nothing compared to his abdomen it was a washboard of muscles. His abs were flexing slightly as they sparkled with sweat, you wanted to lick it off so badly. His bedraggled black hair was pulled back into a bun. His almond eyes had heavy bags underneath along with a small scar underneath his eye. The light stubble on his chin completed his face. You were enthralled by the sight of seeing him so worn out. Your heart was racing as you were severely in need of this man on top of you, fucking you like nobody's business. You soon shook your head and snapped back into reality glancing up towards Aizawa. Your full brown lips parted as you spoke to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you.” You said quite hastily, hoping he didn’t think you were some creep checking out his body. Aizawa's eyes carried that same deadpan expression, letting out a momentary sigh and shaking his head. “There’s no need to apologize. I was the one who was in a rush.” His voice didn’t hold any malice towards you as he met your gaze. He stared you down into your beautiful dark brown eyes, that made you more flustered by the sight of him. This intense stare-down did more than just make you uncomfortable, it turned you on even more.

For a second, it appeared like a small playful smirk on his lips before he carried the same exhausted expression. “You’re my new neighbor, correct? Let me make it up to you, me and my daughter were getting ready to head home. If you don’t mind, could I treat you to dinner at my place?” He politely said to you. You were shocked to hear Aizawa make such a suggestion. You’ve moved in beside the man about a month ago. There were occasional ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous’ in the early morning, as you guys would start the day early in the morning. Aizawa would always be carrying a sleepy Eri to the car as the two of you shared light small talk, nothing more. It didn’t stop your everlasting fantasies of being bent over by this man, til you couldn’t walk. You looked down at your appearance for a second. You were just as sweaty as him from just finishing an intense leg day. The athletic shorts were tight on your body hugging every curve, stretching and flexing around your thighs, displaying that ass you’ve been working on. The print in between your legs caught Aizawa’s attention, but he quickly looked away before you could notice. His mind had racey thoughts as well, ones he was too ashamed to say out loud or ever. You were proud of the progress you were making in the gym on getting your summer body ready. Your tight coils were pulled into an afro puff, as the shrinkage had gotten to it. You weren't worried about how you looked, but more as you would stink from such an intense workout, especially in front of your sexy neighbor. You let out a momentary sigh. “I’m sorry, but I need to shower. It would be wrong of me for you to treat me and I smelled like ten cans of bounce that ass.” You expressed, that Aizawa was amused by your response, chuckling a bit. The drained man reached into his pocket for his phone. He opened up his contracts to create a new one before passing it off to you. “In that case, let me have your number. You can just text or call me, whenever you're done showering. Dinner should be done around eight tonight, so you’ll have plenty of time to come over.” He said rather smoothly. You couldn’t help, but smirk a little. ‘My man, my man, my man.’ You thought to yourself, becoming overwhelmingly giddy. You entered your number into his phone and headed it back to him. “Fine, I’ll come over.” You said teasingly before seeing a notification come through on your phone. It was Aizawa. The man smirked at you briefly, sizing your body up and down. Before he could say anything else, Eri had made another purchase of her iPad. A wave of aggravation appeared on his face, as he soughed. “If you can excuse me, I have to speak with my daughter for a second. I’ll see you tonight.” He voiced before steering down the hall.

You didn’t oppose him leaving, in fact, it only motivated you to see more of your ‘man’ tonight. You hightailed your ass to the car and drove back home. You navigated your vehicle into the driveway of the smooth paved material and pulled into the garage. One side of your driveway features a contemporary design that seamlessly corresponds with the architectural tone of your home. You closed the garage door and entered through the door leading inside your home. The time was six o'clock by the moment you arrived home. The home’s exterior exudes a modern charm with sleek lines and neutral colors and is decorated with many personal items. The windows illuminated a warm glow from outside highlighting the coziness of your home. The smell of vanilla was always a comforting scent to come home to, as you headed upstairs to your bedroom. You set your keys onto your bed and rummaged around through your closet. You didn’t know what to wear and your sore legs were killing you already. “Ugh, what the fuck.” You murmured to yourself, searching for clothes. You finally settled on a nice outfit to wear and took a shower. Once you got out, you pulled out all the natural hair products you could find. You scrolled on Pinterest for inspiration, before settling on a style. You were going to attempt a claw clip hairstyle and began to part your hair into sections. You were taking your time, but part of you was worried you would run late. There were times you thought about slapping on one of your wigs and calling it a day, but you were also determined to trust the process. By the end of it all, it came out cute, as you stuck the claw clip on the back of your head. “Well, I’ll be damned. This came out good.” You said as you admired yourself in the mirror.

As you were admiring yourself, Aizawa was home preparing a nice home-cooked meal. The fatigued man stood in the kitchen wearing a pink apron that was originally white. Eri had ‘accidentally’ tossed her pink shirt in the washer with all his white clothes. He couldn’t be mad at her though, in fact, he found it kind of humorous in his way. The day had been long and very commanding of Aizawa, but he found solace in being able to cook a great meal for the two of you guys tonight. His anticipation was growing rapidly and his heart was pounding, as he was chopping some vegetables on a cutting board. It had been a long time coming since he’d been with another woman, especially sexually. He loved being a father, but it was stressful not having any relief in his life. He’s tried getting off on porn sites late at night, but Eri had been having a series of nightmares recently making his sexual frustrations pent up even more. He had become more irritable, especially at work. Aizawa would often snap at his students and coworkers over simple things, he became so desperate one day he tried relieving himself in the car, but it was vastly interrupted by a fight between two students that occurred nearby. So when you moved next door, it was like the perfect opportunity for him. Aizawa had been pining to stretch you out since day one, he wanted more than to fuck you silly off his dick. The thought alone made it harder for him to sleep at night. He was already basically a walking zombie, as his daughter would call him. He could tell the same desire was in your eyes when he saw you at the gym. Seeing your figure in tight athletic wear earlier made it difficult to contain himself. He was a father after all. You were like a miracle was blessed upon him, as he had the perfect plan for tonight.

Eri was engrossed on her iPad on the sofa in the living room, her packs were packed for a sleepover tonight. She giggled overjoyed as she was playing Fruit Ninja, she was banned from playing Roblux for a while. The sound of his daughter giggle, washed away most of Aizawa’s naughty fruitions as he was in contempt with how things were in the presence. “Eri, would you like to eat dinner before you leave?” He asks from the kitchen. Eri placed her iPad down and wandered into the kitchen. The delicious aroma filled her nostrils as he was cooking his signature pot roast. “Yeah, but what’s the occasion?” She questioned, her big adorable eyes staring up at Aizawa. He cleared his throat, Eri was quite an inquisitive young girl. “Oh, nothing. I’m just inviting the neighbor over for dinner.” He muttered nonchalantly. A grin came across Eri’s face. “Okay.” She replied and ran off giggling. Aizawa sighed and pulled out his phone from his gray sweats, seeing the meal he had prepared was just about done. He sees it’s close to eight and decides to shoot you a text.

You're phone lit up with a notification, it was Aizawa.

>Are we still on for tonight?

The text read as it was fifteen minutes from eight. “Oh shit.” You whispered as you picked your phone back up.

>Yeah, I’ll be right over.

You texted it back and looked for some shoes to slide on. You sprayed your favorite perfume a couple of times around your body and grabbed your keys. You walked out the front door, locking it behind you before venturing off to your neighbor's house. As you walked down the sidewalk, inches away from knocking at the front door, you had butterflies in your stomach. Your nerves were getting the best of you as you walked up the driveway of Aizawa’s home. Your hands became shaky as you were approaching the front door. “Oh shit.” You murmured to yourself. Before you could knock on the door, Eri had opened it. She looked at you with a bright bubbly smile. “My daddy likes you.” She said before running off giggling, hearing Aizawa’s footsteps. He was visibly a bit irked by Eri opening the door so carefreely. “Eri, darling, please don’t open the door for people. It can be dangerous.” He reprimanded her, as she was running around the house. The high-spirited child was too busy packing up the rest of her things to care about Aizawa’s nagging. You couldn’t help, but giggle. You didn’t find kids annoying, but they could be just as overwhelming for you. Eri’s words were a bit more of a confidence booster, as kids tend to tell things they weren’t supposed to.

Aizawa smiled at you in a friendly manner. His hair was still pulled back into a bun as he stood there in his vacuum-sealed black shirt and gray sweat. This combination was dangerous for you, all you could do was stare. You already knew what was underneath his shirt, but the idea of seeing it again made your legs quiver a bit.

“You can come into the dining room through the living room on the right-hand side, and the bathroom is down this hall on the left for you to wash your hands.” He stepped aside for you to enter, looking over your body once again. “Oh okay.” You said. The way Aizawa positioned himself didn’t make it exactly ‘easy’ to come through the door. As you walked inside your body brushed up against his, as he didn’t make much of a fuss over it. He was enjoying it. This man was driving you insane.

You slid off your shoes at the door and made your way down to the bathroom. Locking the door behind you and turned on the faucet letting the water run for a bit. You stared at yourself momentarily in the mirror, trying to calm yourself down. Such a brief interaction between the two of you made you get wet like a damn waterfall. The racing thoughts and fantasies filled your brain with such intense lust for him. You cleared your throat and began to wash your hands.

While you were in the bathroom, Aizawa handed Eri off to Hizashi for him to drop her off at her sleepover. Aizawa pulled out a nice tablecloth and placed it over the dining table. He pulled out his fine china and cutlery, placing it on the dining room table. He pulled out a bottle of red wine and two glasses. He had a set of flowers in a vase for the centerpiece, before dimming down the lights. It wasn’t much for a last-minute dinner, but he was also afraid overdoing it would scare you off. His heart was beating tremendously while he placed the food on the plate. “Dammit call down.” He reprimanded himself silently.

After washing up in the bathroom, you joined Aizawa at the table in the dining room. Your heart raced as the somewhat romantic ambiance created. There was no sight of Eri, it was like she disappeared without a trace, the house was nice and silent. “Where’s Eri?” You asked him politely, as you sat down at your seat. Aizawa looked at the food and back at you. “A friend of mine came to pick her up and take her to a sleepover. She’s in good hands.” He said in the same smooth voice. “Besides Y/N, this dinner is me apologizing to you earlier. Eri has nothing to do between me and you.” He said as a small smirk appeared on his face.

There was no denying it now. You wanted this man to fuck you as you’ve never been fucked before. You cleared your throat and sat up straighter in your chair. “I see. Well with that out the way, let’s eat.” You stated elated with the atmosphere being created.

You indulged in a great and flavorful dinner, Aizawa had prepared for the two of you. His pot roast certainly made you fall for the man more, as he cooked like none other. “This is good. Especially after a long day at the gym. I think this might put me to sleep after I’m done.” You spoke jokingly. Aizawa grinned, as you enjoyed the meal. He sighed at the mention of sleep. “Sleep, I haven't gotten much of it.” He spoke in a bit of a hushed fashion as his eyes downcasted onto the plate of food in front of him. You glimpsed up at the man and slanted your head slightly at him. The bags he had were highly conspicuous as he looked like he did have a formidable time resting. “I can understand why, I mean you work and you have a very lively little girl, I’m sure sleeping is a bit difficult on your end.” You expressed. He chortled a bit and nodded His jovial expression seemed to calm some of your worries a bit.

Aizawa's eyes peered over to your outfit. Even though it wasn’t much the way your body looked, make him think of all the ways he wanted to break you. He felt a tinge in the lower region of his body. He figured it was time the two of you were on the same page. “Sleeping isn’t the only thing hard to come by.” He expressed playfully making his stare on your body more apparent. Your thighs squeezed together after hearing his rather suggestive comment. “Is that so?” You questioned in the same impish tone. He peeked up and bobbed his head. “Yes, it is. I haven’t had the best of luck with women these days, because of my busy schedule.” He told before leaning up on the table, resting his head in the palm of his hand. A slight grin swept your face captivated by this conversation it felt like your lewd fictions may become a reality. “Oh, I see. Is there anything I can do to help? You’ve treated me to such a great meal, it would be rude of me not to.” You said with a small smirk. Aizawa a devishly grin replaced his usual nonchalant expression. “Perhaps... What do you think will help me Y/N?” He taunted you, making your panties soak. A disbelief waved over you wanting to know how far the two of you would go, but you weren’t going to back down from this playful banter. “How about a massage?” Your voice oozed sultry, it made Aizawa feel another tinge of excitement in his gray sweats. “I would appreciate that very much, a shoulder massage would be much needed for those back squats from earlier.” He muttered and watched as you stood from the table and walked behind him placing your hands on his shoulders. You slowly massaged them. Your hands moved with precision and skill, effortlessly gliding over his broad thick shoulders. Aizawa let out a soft moan feeling the tension from his intense workout from earlier being at ease. The sound of his moans was like music to your ears, as your fingers knead their way along his shoulder blade, getting rid of the knots and tightness. Aizawa closes his eyes tossing his head back, feeling your nibble fingers for their magic.

“Do you like that?” You asked in a sensual tone.

Aizawa was aroused by your question, his soft pink lips parted before he spoke. “Very much.” He whispered seductively.

His answer satisfied you, working the knots in his shoulders. Aizawa didn’t shy away from moaning, making sure you heard every single one. “Fff-fuck.” He gasped and sighed heavily. You squeezed your thighs together sliding them together, yearning for some friction for your greedy clit. Your hands slide down to his back and up his shirt, feeling his larger back muscles. Your cold fingers on Aizawa’s bare skin almost sent him over the edge. Things he only dreamt of were being played right in front of him.

“How about we take this upstairs..” He whispered.

Those words sent a shiver down your spine, as you grew wetter by the second. “Alright then.” You replied, taking his hand. He helped you out of your seat He got up out of his seat leading you, up the stairs to his bedroom. You went to sit on the edge of the bed as Aizawa closed the door behind him. His hand slipped underneath his shirt, rubbing his abs as he approached you. He stood in front of you with the same mischievous grin. Your heart was about to burst out of your chest as you were thirsting for him. You made it obvious too, looking at the print in his gray sweats and biting on the corner of your lower lip. Aizawa removed his hand from underneath his shirt and made himself on the bed. His eyes cut over to you swiftly, an assertive persona seeping from him as he motions for you to sit on his lap. You crawled over and sat in his lap facing towards him. Your legs wrapped around his waist tightly, pressing your chest up on him.

“Take off my shirt and massage my back.” He spoke, peering with a lecherous gaze.

“Aren’t we needy?” You teased, as you took off his shirt, he chuckled. You were just as bad as he was. The moment you took off his shirt, your eyes darted to his well-defined physique. His chiseled chest and sculpted shoulders had you wanting to lick all over it. His torso was a true testament to the hard work he put in at the gym, he purposely flexed his muscles showing off his impressive size and definition. You traced subtle veins in his arms and chest making him tingle a bit. Aizawa leaned up to kiss your neck, which made you moan instantly. “Fuck.” You whispered, enthralled by the sensation. His lips lifted off your rich brown skin and to your ear. “My massage, princess.” He spoke in a hushed tone. The potent mixture of desire filled every inch of your body, and hearing him calling you ‘princess’ made you hot and bothered. Your hands are placed on his back, rubbing it slowly, those soft hands make Aizawa grunt pleasurably, nestling his head into your shoulder. His dick was rock hard as you continued to massage the knots in his back. His silent curses made your pussy weak for him, and your hips started to buck against his crotch. Aizawa reached and grabbed your hips, stopping you. You were appalled by him stopping you when he smirked at you.

“You’re going to have to earn this dick.” He spoke in a rather serious tone flipping the two of you, so he was on top of you on the bed. He was more assertive and dominant over your body. He hovered his face closer over to yours, his lips brushed against yours.

“I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” He whispered, staring you dead in the eye. You felt your pussy quaking, yearning for him more than ever. A smirk came across your lips, as your hands tugged at his torso. “So fuck me then.” You replied boldly, riling up the man in front of you even more. “I can’t wait to break you.” He declared hungrily. You wasted no time, touching all over his chest.

Your hands glided over his hardened nipples, which made him shiver a bit. Aizawa was amused by your fascination with his chest, but he wanted to touch you in the same way.. just as badly.

“Strip down for me princess.” He retorted hastily, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it. A grin sweeper over your face and you did as asked of you. “Anything for you.” You spoke, before winking. You stripped off your clothes, revealing your sexy body to him. He was in awe and his mind raced with all the possibilities he could to you. Aizawa placed his hand on your chin and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. His tongue entered your mouth exploring your cavern and swirled around with yours. He stuck his tongue deeper down your throat, making you gag a bit. He wasn’t letting for an inch, you could tell he hadn’t fucked in a while, it was beginning to show how hungry he truly was. He broke the kiss as the two of you were heavily panting. Your mind was only focused on him, as he rubbed his big hands all over your body. You were curious to know how long it’s been since he last touched anyone, so you ask. “How long has it been.. since you last did this?” Aizawa smirked and got up from the top of you. “Too long.” He replied quite bluntly, and spread your thighs apart wide. A squeal escaped your lips from working out earlier that day. Despite your whimpers, he stretched out your thighs wider.

“Now then princess, play with that pretty pussy of yours.” He commanded. His words made your whole body hot. You didn’t object to it, your fingers dove right to that soaking cunt of yours. You moaned obsessively, giving him a suitable show. Your thighs spread wider, the more your fingers moved vigorously in and out that greedy pussy of yours. “Ngh.. Ahhh.” You called out as walls clenched around your sticky fingers. Your juices spilled onto the bed as you did, and Aizawa enjoyed every moment. His dick grew so hard it was almost about to burst out of his gray sweats. “Fuck, just like that princess.” He encouraged, watching intensely as you played with that sloppy cunt of yours. “You like that baby?” You moaned, as your eyes were staring into his. Aizawa nodded, biting his lower lip. “Of course, I am a princess. Fuck yourself harder for me.” He spoke flirtatiously. His voice was so fucking hot to you. Something about his low and silvery tone made your finger pump in and out your sobbing cunt faster. You were about to cum off over the sheets the way you were whimpering. “Shh-shit!” You moaned, and Aizawa came closer.

He pulled you by the hips to the edge of the bed and smiled. He kneeled on the floor and positioned his head in between your legs. “Let me handle this princess.” He said calmly, and you removed your hands.

He stuck his tongue out and began to lap his tongue in your wet folds. You shivered and moaned out loudly. “D-dammit.” You whimpered, as your hand took a fistful of his hair. He was pleased about your reactions and slurped up every drop you had to offer him. He was enthralled with your wet cunt, and started to vigorously eat you out relentlessly, whirling his tongue around your poor clit.

“F-fuck.. baby..ohhh!” You moaned and gripped his hair tighter. Your legs were shaking so badly, you didn’t know how much you could take. “Almost there, princess.” He purred before he dribbled his tongue over your glistening folds, before shoving his index and ring finger up your greedy hole. He was pumping his fingers in and out of you at an alarming rate aiming right towards your g spot. Your stomach was in knots, as you started to buck your hips against him. “I’m going to cum, I’m... shit... I’m so close, baby.” You said as your words we’re starting to slur a little. Aizawa ignored your whiny moans and continued to eat his favorite meal of the night. The sounds of your squelching pussy made him lap over your clit furiously.

It didn’t take long for you to throw your head back, as you bucked your hips faster, your climax was approaching. Your hands gripped his hair tighter, and you came all over his face, gasping. Aizawa slurped up every drop of your sweet release and lifted his head. He saw the fucked out look on your face and licked his fingers, slurping off your sweet release. “Princess, don't tell me you're worn out already. We have got the whole night ahead of us.” He teased and stood up. You watched tiredly, as slipped off his sweats and boxers. His dick oozed with precum, as he tapped it against your throbbing cunt. You gulped as little as he expected to take every inch of his long, hard dick. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll manage.” You spoke, and he smirked. “Good, now then princess. Turn around and ass up.” He spoke sternly.

You were starting to get all giddy from his words again and did what was told. You tooted your ass up sky-high for him, and he positioned himself behind you.

The tip of his cock teased your glistening hole making the two of you moan. The euphoria of it all had Aizawa weak as he continued to rub his giant head against you while your lower body was in intense agony. “Put it Shota.” You begged to get fuck. Aizawa ignored your pleas and continued to rub the head of his sticky cock around your glorious hole, teasing the both of you. After a while, he gave in and grunted entering your walls, and slapped your ass. The tip of his dick kissed your cervix, staying dormant until your walls adjusted around the throbbing dick. You let out a loud moan, gripping the sheets. “Shit, princess, you feel amazing.” He groaned, his big hands gripped your ass. “F-fuck.” Aizawa moaned, your walls were clenched desperately on his dick. He smacked your left-ass cheek, he wanted to break you some more.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” He spoke in a low hushed tone in your ear.

“Y-you.” You whimpered while your legs were about to buckle.

“Say it again.” He commanded.

“I-it belongs to you!” You whimpered more.

“Mmm, that's right.” He sounded giving that beautiful ass another powerful slap.

“Oh fuck..!” You moaned.

He wasted no time and rutted into your squelching pussy, slapping your ass repeatedly. Your hands gripped the sheets tighter, taking on his girthy cock. “Ooohhh babyy..” You whimpered while getting drilled in by a madman. He was going to fuck you so hard until you saw stars. He went harder and deeper with every time your pussy connected to his balls, the dopamine of hearing the clapping noise sent him over the edge.

“Tell me how much you love it, princess.” He groaned, spanking your ass again.

“I love it!” You screeched, feeling your body grow weaker every second. The lewd slapping of your and Aizawa's skin together filled up the walls of his bedroom. He was plunging deep inside your wet wall, feeling like he was rearranging your guts. He grunted again, giving your ass another slap. “Tell me how much you love this fat dick. I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll sleep like a baby.” He murmured and slapped your ass again. “I love it so m-much.” You moaned.

Aizawa drilled into your pussy relentlessly, as your juices coated his thick dick, slamming into your g spot. He was getting close to seeing what a sloppy mess the two of you were becoming. He couldn’t help but want to tease you. He pulled out, edging his tip near your entrance. You were completely weak and craving for him to finish. “P-please. I need it. Give it back.” You moaned. Aizawa smirked. “Louder princess.” He urged you, before giving your ass another loud slap. You yelped a bit and moaned profusely. “Fuck me!” You shouted, and it was at those words he shoved his hard dick back inside your sloppy cunt, your tits bouncing uncontrollably. He fucking you so good your eyes begin to roll back, your toes started to curl. “Ohhh, fuck yes.” You purred.

Aizawa was deep inside your tight pussy, grunting with each passing stroke. “Fuck.. I’m close..” He snarled, reaching his hands onto your shoulder. You could barely take it, your knees were beginning to go weak. “Don’t you dare.” Aizawa muttered as he saw your body shaking about to tip over. You were about to object until he thrust into you roughly. “Dammit!” You shouted as we were approaching your end. Your walls clamped down tightly on Aizawa’s dick, as you came all on. The warmth of your cum running down his shaft, makes Aizawa curse silently before stuffing you full of his cum. “S-shit.” He said silently and watched as you collapsed onto the bed. Your body was spiraling, and Aizawa lay beside you with a smirk on his face.

He yawned, feeling tired enough to get some rest. He cradled you into his arms and kissed the side of your neck. “I’m going to love this princess.” He whispered sweetly in your ear. Your body began to relax, as you laid in his arms. “Me too.” You said softly.

His soft hands rubbed against your sore clit, making you squirm. He smirked. “I said we had all night darling..come sit on my face, Princess.”

END!

[tempestgnostic]

i think the greatest and most unfortunate parallel i see in the therian community that i also saw in the trans community is a certain level of identifying with the pain of species dysphoria instead of identifying with what makes you a therian. species dysphoria can fucking suck but it’s not required to be a therian, it’s never been required, it never will be, and even those who know this will still lash out at the idea that some of us find joy in also being human. i could never share my art with the world otherwise. i’m part of this badass species that builds upon technology and preserves knowledge from over a thousand years ago. we have an incredible wealth of culture and experience available to us and that’s fucking magical!!

grieve as much as you need to. grieve the fact that you’ll never quite have the life you want. if you experience this pain, it’s very real, and you need to process it. and at some point, on the other side of grief, you need to let go. let go of wishing for the life you’ll never have, and figure out what you can do with the one you’re living, to bring it more in line with your authentic animal self. don’t take this chance for granted. this body is capable of many wonderful things. i felt the same joy about being trans when i recognized that this experience gives me a unique perspective on the world—and i realized that, had i gone through a different puberty, been raised as the other binary gender, i still would’ve been trans. i would’ve gone on estrogen. i would’ve pushed myself through the black morass of grief, discovering along the way that i’m in charge of becoming who i want to be. i would’ve found joy.

your pain is not all that you are.

[maximumkillshot]

"I Can't Lose You" Part 6

Warnings: Aftermath of a miscarriage, descriptions of grief due to losing a baby, Angry Everyone, Death is mentioned, Wanting Death, Shock, Grief, PTSD Flashback, Panic, there is a parallel to a person jumping off a bridge (NOT ACTUALLY)

Pairing: Bangchan x Reader

Characters:  Stray Kids, Reader

A/N: Ok if you read the above, you'll notice that anger is in the warnings. This is the first half of a chapter that had me crying as I wrote it. This is something that you all need to take into consideration... I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I AM SORRY IN ADVANCE ONCE AGAIN. My asks are always open for you guys to vent about this one.

Also remember, this is a fanfic. All of the boys are so sweet IRL.

Stray Kids! Masterlist

Overall Masterlist

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT WHICH IS A PUNISHABLE OFFENSE. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

Previously:

He was mad at himself at those thoughts, Chris was so clearly into you so he used Bin’s insecurities against him… and it had worked. He thought about how all of this wouldn’t have happened and you and him would be happy together. That’s all he ever wanted for you. That was why he let you go in the first place. He wanted you to be happy.

After about half an hour of hushed talking, while Bin kept you relaxed, a set of footsteps walked down the hall. Just hearing them, Bin’s ears perked up. They had an authority to them, almost pompous in nature. Commanding… he knows those steps.

Now:

The minute Minho saw who it was entering the room his whole body went rigid, his hands in fists at his side as he got up and used his body to block whoever it was. He motioned for the boys to get closer to the bed. All of them standing, ready to jump. 

“Just let me talk to her,” Bin’s vision started getting blurry, on the verge of blacking out with rage. He looked down to you, very unbothered by the sudden voice that assaulted the tranquility of the room. The first tranquil moment you've had in months. Months of your husband hiding and sneaking. And months of you planning and working excitedly making every detail perfect. 

Bin made a split-second decision to lightly cover your ear that wasn't to his chest. Trying to prolong the inevitable. 

Next up was Han as he said in a hushed tone, “she’s finally asleep. You are not coming in this room, Chris.” His tone was dark and that one sentence rolled off of his tongue like a warning. 

“She’s my wife. I am going to see her whether you like it or not.” He sounded annoyed. Like this was an inconvenience. Bin did everything in the book to calm his heart, which was starting to spike at just hearing his voice. 

Bin went on an internal tirade, how dare he come here? Killing your child wasn't enough? Making you so stressed out that you almost bled to death wasn't enough? Ripping your heart out and trampling it… not enough for him? NOOO let's show up when it's convenient, when no one expects it, playing the 'husband' card. When Bin knew he CLEARLY gave up that title already. 

Especially when you did everything to be available for him. When he started to pull away you came to Bin and Han in tears, not knowing what to do. You love him so much that you actively went to find out what it was. Was it your weight? Did you talk too much or not enough? Did you ask for too much? Did you seem too boring? He has already been enough of a plague on your life already. 

Minho giggled darkly, “You really want to die today, huh? Did you not hear Han, she’s resting. Now go away.” 

“Not until I see her.” His voice raised slightly. The bite in his voice made Minho want to strangle him, to be honest. He doesn’t have any entitlement to you. Especially after what he’s done. As far as what Minho thinks, Chris was never your husband. No husband neglects their wife. No husband makes their wife lay awake at night, worried about if he had eaten or not, or if she’d even see him when she woke up. 

That was enough for you to stir on Bin’s chest. Bin had to think quickly as he said "It's okay, go to sleep, Angel. I'm here," in the most delicate whisper. That was enough to knock you out again, humming against his chest. 

Chris pulled back the curtain, even though Han and Minho tried their best to get him away. At that point, I.N, who was the closest to Chan, blocked him from your bedside.

“Get away from her.” He whispered, “She’s too fragile right now.”

Chris just looked at I.N. and said, “No one is keeping me from my wife, you’re lucky I even went along with it for this long. I’m not going to wake her.”

The venom in Chan's voice made the hair on Bin’s neck and arms raise. Not out of fear, no he could snap Chris in half if he was pissed off enough. His hair raised out of anger and knowing he couldn't do anything about it. The fact that Chan had the audacity to come into that room after what he did, knowing that you are fragile. That you barely made it out, and even now, you aren’t completely out. Yet there he was trying to force himself in. Like he had a right to be there, even though he was the one that caused it. 

I.N looked at Han and Han signaled him to let it go. 

Han knew that he was right, none of them had spousal rights. So technically Chris can kick them out, especially because she is still so weak, she can’t fend for herself or be able to sternly say ‘get out’ to her husband, not without consequences. They had no other choice. 

Bin looked at Chan as he took a seat next to the bed, taking in your sleeping form. His heart was breaking at seeing how weak you looked. Your cheeks were slightly sunken in and your face was completely pale. The dark circles dominated your eyes, making your face look more like a mummy as opposed to a living breathing person. He looked at your arm with a blood bag hooked to it. When he looked up at Bin he could see that it took everything in Bin’s body not to kill him.

Bin just mouthed to him, “What the fuck are you doing here, get out.” The more that he looked at Chan the more he wanted to rip him apart. He looked well rested, smelled like he showered, hell he even did his hair. That pissed Changbin off. You’d think that he would at least look more disheveled. Given, he could see that he did look worried and sad. He didn’t look guilty. 

Chris just ignored him and kept looking at you. Chris was transfixed on you. He was even more transfixed by your hold on Changbin. You looked like you were cuddling your favorite teddy bear. He remembered the last time you held him like that. Yesterday morning, when he came home to sleep for two hours, the minute the bed dipped you subconsciously reached for him, and he slightly rolled his eyes as he succumbed to his fate, smile on his face. You sighed so happily, you mumbled, ‘Mhmm missed you, love you,’ as you kissed his bare chest, and just like you’re positioned now, you were asleep. Now seeing you holding Bin like that makes jealousy more prominent in his mind. 

It makes him sick to think about all of this as he plays with his wedding ring, thinking about not feeling you again, your hugs, your breath on his skin. The moans that’d he pull out of you, soothing his soul. The looks that’d make his heart stop. The giggle that’d be forced out even if you were mad. Not having the feeling of your skin on his, these thoughts make him want to die. He’s trying to actively ignore it. He’s trying to ignore the fact that he did something so disgusting, so unforgivable that he lost you. For him, it’s easier to be angry, angry and convinced that you’ll come back. That’s why he is doing what he is doing. That’s why he walked with bravado into that room.

He went to put some hair behind your ear just to have some contact and I.N’s hand flew out and wrapped his hand around his wrist. His jaw set. Bin wanted to do the exact same but it’d jolt you.  

I.N. growled “No.. touching… get out of the room,” his brows furrowed, his usually soft eyes looking more like a piercing gaze. 

Being the maknae, he has never challenged Chan before… At all. There’s a good reason as to why he is challenging him right now. Innah has always felt like he was awkward. He didn’t really know where he belonged in the team. Yes, he has a good voice and yes he’s good with choreography but he never really hung out with people other than Seungmin and Felix. 

You being the person you are, you figured it out. He was watching one day, just seeing all of the members interacting, some of the older ones trying to bring him into the fold but it seemed ingenuine to him. Like he was the little brother that had to be included or Dad would get mad. You truly found the things that he loved interesting, really talked to him, and made him feel safe and welcomed. 

There was one particularly hard night for him. Nothing went right that day and he was tired, frustrated, and needed to feel safe. He didn’t know where to go or who to go to. So he called you without knowing why. You picked up and the minute he heard your voice he started crying. You ran to his dorm. No one else was home, and of course, Chan was nowhere in sight. So you stood with him, talked, and cooked a midnight dinner with him. Got him to laugh, you both passed out on the couch after watching some anime.

After that night that no one knows about except the boys in the Danceracha house, I.N. was just like Hyunjin, except he’d do drive-by hugs, sometimes just falling on you giggling and looking for hugs and head scratches, like the fox he is. There were other times when he would just stand behind you, put his chin on the top of your head and say, “What are we doing here Y/N/N…. I am BORED” as he’d flop on you, “Let’s get Ramyeon.” You’d laugh and say, “How about this… you get through today… and Ramyeon’s on me.” He still smiles at those memories.

So of course, I.N. would fight King Kong if he had to if it meant protecting you. 

Now, seeing Jeongin doing this, standing up to Chan, just to protect you, his Noona,  made everyone that wasn’t Chan smile. 

Chan stood up to his full height and said, “I just want to be here for her,” with a tight lip at the challenge of the maknae of his team. Chan can’t take the disrespect anymore. Even though he knows that he more than deserves to be treated like this and worse, he is still in that limbo of trying to convince himself that this didn’t actually happen or worse, that he can fix it.

Bin felt your grip tighten on him…

You said to yourself that you didn’t just hear that voice. You squeezed your eyes shut as you wiggled up a bit to bury your face into Bin's neck. You didn’t want the boys to see you cry. 

The cologne you just smelled when you were on Bin's chest, that was Chan’s cologne. The voice you just heard, that was Chan’s voice. There was a war going on in your head. Do you talk to him? Can you talk to him? What do you say? What does HE have to say?

“Y/N?” Chan said as his body snapped to you. Seeing you now burrowed into Bin’s neck and chest. 

It made the jealousy that he had before start to boil. That’s his wife, after all. Chan was your safety. He was the one you run to, not Changbin, of all people. Why does he fit so well next to you? Why does the feeling of you slipping away elicit anger at others, not himself? Why did he see you buried in Bin’s neck and not his own? It felt to him like someone was touching his favorite toy without permission. Why did she go to Bin for comfort and not him? 

“Y/N, Baby?” He asked a little louder…

“Stop calling me that,” you responded to him, muffled by Bin’s neck as you cried in your own dark cocoon, that was what you imagined when in Bin’s neck. Surrounded by him, he’d never let anyone near close. He was your safety bubble. 

Bin just moved his hand up to pet your hair back as you fought with yourself. 

The only one who knew you were crying was Bin, who felt your tears on his neck. They felt like acid on his skin, he could feel the pain through them, the fear, the rejection, the grief. He hated seeing or feeling you cry. The fact that you were comfortable enough to trust him with your fragility was the only solace in this for him. He knew that no one could protect you more than he could. That’s exactly what he’s going to do, protect you. 

“I’ve got you,” He whispered as he turned his face into you, trying to hide as much of your face as he could, to give you more shelter to cry in. He hated that you had to go through this. You would think that for even one second his bonehead bandmate would put his own ego aside for just one fucking day to give you the room you desperately needed. It’s not even like he could make the excuse of thinking that you are going through it alone. It’s clear that you aren’t, Bin always took care of you. Sometimes Chan thought that it was the perfect deal for himself. He was married to you, so obviously you wouldn’t betray him, and Bin was so in love with you that he’d move Heaven and Earth for you. So Chan being distracted was never the issue, Bin was always there. In his head Bin was like a Knight protecting the Queen in a chess game. The king doesn’t have to worry about the Queen. 

Bin’s tone with you was gentle,“You tell me to get him out and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.” His face read danger, eyes never leaving Chris.

You really didn’t know what to do. You are at a loss really. You just got about half an hour in nearly 30+ hours of being awake. One thing you do know is that you are feeling your pain uptick at the thought of leaving Bin’s neck. 

“Please, let me talk to you,” Chris pleaded with you. He tried to touch you.

Jeongin stopped him again, gripping his wrist. His grip was bruising in strength this time, “She did not say you could touch her. So you are keeping your hand to yourself. Either that or I rip it off, understand?”

Bin’s jaw was tight, if Chris made one more move, Bin was going to gently switch out with Seungmin, just to murder Chris, then switch out again so you could sleep, very simple. 

“At least let me see your face, Baby,” Chris said as he yanked his hand from I.N’s grip. 

Then you spoke again… your tone now carrying an authoritative air, “I told you not to call me that fucking name. I heard it enough when you were fucking her in our bed. Take that name and shove it, Chris.” 

“As for seeing my face, you don’t deserve to see it after what you did to me. Neither of you deserve to see my face.”

“Give us the room,” Chan ordered. He was doing his best to keep his composure and to try to gauge how much control he lost of the group. He is very much aware of the fact that the power dynamic has changed. Chan knows that they don’t even respect him, let alone trust him. Another thing that he knows is that he would feel the same way.

He’s also embarrassed, not at what he’s done but at the fact that his members found out. The fact that he was caught with his pants down, both literally and figuratively. The fact that his members watched him do something so amoral was something that he was pissed off about. Not as much at the fact that he had no moral compass, but it was the fact that they reacted the way they did. They screamed at him, Chris, Bang Chan, their elder. They challenged his authority left and right. The fact that they’re rebelling only added fuel to the fire. He wanted, needed to get control back. 

As far as he was concerned, this was all something that he could come back from. You love him, right? So obviously you’ll come back. You sunk 5 years into him, of course you’ll be back. There was far too many decent memories for you to check out now. You’re hurt, demoralized, angry, yes. However, knowing the peacekeeper you are, you’ll be back, he knows it. Why can’t they see that, why can’t they fight for him just as hard as they are fighting for you. Why can’t they get their noses out of his marriage and watch some K-Drama like they always do instead of driving a wedge further in between himself and his wife. 

The frustration alone made him want to lose his composure. Everyone has their role, that is something he is an avid believer in. To you, Chan is the protector, he’s the one to chase all the bad things away, he is your husband. Changbin is your friend, nothing more. So it drove Chan crazy to see you relax in Bin’s arms. 

He felt like Bin had no business in a bed with you. It being completely lost on him that he did the same thing, but worse with his wife’s best friend. Bin is not there to sexually gratify you, he is there to hold whatever’s left of you together. 

Bin is trying desperately to reassure you, to look at all of your broken pieces and help you, to let you know that he won’t let Chris close enough to hurt you again. 

When Chris ordered everyone to give him the room, not one person moved a muscle. All they did was look at you, waiting for an answer. 

Bin whispered to you, “Do you want us to leave?” Internally he was praying that you wouldn’t want him to go. He as well as the rest of the boys don’t trust Chris as far as they can throw him. 

You shook your head, “Can’t take it.” You knew that there would be no way that you could have this conversation alone, you’d be right back to square one. If you were honest there isn’t a way you can see this going well. You are still really weak. You can’t do much of anything at all yet, even needing help shifting in your own bed. Not to mention the person who did it to you is demanding an audience with you like you didn’t just go through a near-death experience and is barking orders at your boys. You couldn’t even scream at him for that. 

Bin looked at the boys and said, “We aren’t going anywhere, Y/N’s orders.”

With that all of the boys had a seat, smiles on their faces as if to say try us, we dare you. 

Chan’s face turned hard at that. It was worse than he thought… Not only did he lose control, he handed all of it over to you on a silver platter. Chan is an A personality type. He is very particular, one of those places he’s particular about is that he is the Alpha. He is the leader, the spearhead. So for everyone to do this, made him not only mad, but scared. He isn’t used to not being in control. That made his tone harsh as he barked,“Look, I know that you are in pain and I know that you don’t even want to see me right now, but we need to talk in private.”

Immediately I.N. bristled and took a step to him, Minho getting up and claiming the bottom half of the bed, looming on the post of it, glaring at Chan.

Felix growled, “Watch your tone, you aren’t the one calling the shots, Chris.” as he bore daggers into Chris’ forehead, standing at the ready. 

You didn’t respond and Chan said something that made your blood boil,something he knew you couldn’t ignore, “It was mine too.”

It..IT?! Your heart cracked again as you left your cocoon, “IT?!” You raised your voice. You winced at the pain the movement caused. “MY child was not an IT… THEY WERE HERE CHRIS.” You grabbed your stomach, feeling your diaphragm scream at you to be quiet, your abdominals agreeing full-heartedly. “YOU gave up ANY parentage by fucking someone else when we were trying to have a baby for TWO FUCKING YEARS!”

“WHAT?!” Han exclaimed. Han started to see red, yet again… Han thought to himself, They were trying to have a baby for 2 years?!. Han looked briefly at everyone else, their faces set in the same murderous stare that resided on Han. 

Meanwhile, Bin didn’t let that sink in, he was too busy noticing you started looking slightly confused and woozy. Whatever little color you had was turning more grey by the second.

“Y/N you need to breathe,” Bin tried to remind you. He tried his best to guide you back down but you weren't having it. Your anger taking control. He had a sinking feeling as his own heartrate picked up.

You thought for a few minutes and said, “I still can’t believe it, you know? It’s like last night was a horrible nightmare but, the pain, the blood… It really happened. My baby is really gone.” A stray tear ran down your face, “I don’t want to believe it. It hurts too much. But my body knows. It feels different. I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t… I can’t…”

Bin was watching your heart rate, the last time you tried to revisit this, you had to be sedated and apparently, Han is thinking the same thing. He looked at the monitors and got a bad feeling. 

“I just wanted to surprise you, to show you how much I love you! To let you know that I am there for you and you repay me by emotionally cheating on me with my BEST FRIEND for a YEAR and physically cheating for two whole months?! NOW YOU WANT A PRIVATE CONVERSATION?! How is this for a private conversation.” You felt your body starting to fail again. The rage coursing through you is the only thing keeping you aware of your surroundings. 

Chan went to look away, he couldn’t see you hurting this much. He couldn’t come to the realization that he did this to you. You screamed with what little energy you had , “LOOK AT ME YOU FUCKING COWARD!” as you held your stomach, trying to control the new waves of pain.

When he looked at you, you said, “Here’s a little private conversation for you. I’m granting your wish. You said to her ‘I can’t wait to leave her’... Guess what?” You gritted out, “I’m leaving you!” you started spiraling back into what happened not even a full 24 hours ago at repeating his sentence back to him. Hearing those same words in your head, seeing the blood, the reality of it once again slamming into you like it did before. 

The minute that last sentence left your lips, the world slowed down for Chris. He saw everything, the wedding, the laughs you both had. Even the simple things like how whenever he got up, which was always well before you woke up; he’d stare at you, brushing your cheekbones with his knuckles. Watching your peaceful form and marveling at how effortlessly gorgeous you are. Now as he watches you, seeing the shreds of you that were left, he had a realization. He realized all at once that the person he loves and has always loved is dead. She’s dead, along with his child, because of him.

You started staring off tears freely falling, “I just want my baby… Bin, I want my baby.” 

Your heart rate started climbing fast as you stared at your lap, seeing blood that wasn’t there anymore, then blinking and it disappearing, your face began to show distress, as tears started falling, and your mouth opened letting out rapid puffs of air. Bin looked at Han and yelled at him, "Get the nurses, go!" The next second Han ran out the door as the alarms went off on the monitors. 

Bin looked at you and said, “Hey look at me, stay here with me, Angel.” Then he looked at Minho and said, “Clear the room. Get Chan out of her NOW!” Minho immediately started getting everyone up and out of the room as fast as possible. 

Chris slowly backed up until he hit the wall,everything moving in slow motion. He looked at the monitor, seeing your ungodly fast heart rate. The fact that you could die right now from a heart attack made him want to collapse to his knees and start praying. Chris was watching how Bin handled you, tears were starting to sting in his eyes. He was shaking, feeling the gold of his wedding band as he watched a man who was so much more than he could be. How delicate he was with you. Why did I do this? 

He was staring at your face, he could see it, the heartbreak. He wanted to help, to take all of it back. Flashes of memories flickered in his mind. All of the opportunities he had to be with you but chose not to. All of the times that you would try to save him from himself, even if it was as simple as reminding him to eat. He’d yell at you and tell you that he was a grown up. I’m not grown. You’d remind him to get up and stretch, to be present in the now.  You always tried to connect to him, always tried to soothe him, always tried to bridge the gap he put in between the both of you. His heart felt like lead, sinking further. His voice, his legs, his body didn’t move. It was Innah who dragged him out of the room by the collar.

Bin looked back at you, “Y/N…” He could see, you were completely dissociated. 

You weren’t responding to him at all, eyes glazed over as your heart rate kept climbing, you were glancing around, clearly confused. What he didn’t know is that you felt everything at once. You could hear him like he was underwater. Your vision was blurry, and you really couldn’t feel anything aside from the pain in your chest at the thought of anything, because you felt guilty.

“Angel, look at me, try to breathe for me. Come back to me.” 

“They should be here, not me. My baby didn’t deserve that Binnie. I want to hold my baby!” You screamed, “I want to take them a bath, feed them, I want my Baby.”

Bin realized then that it’s the reality that’s so painful. Everything that was around you reminded you of the fact that you were living and your child wasn’t. He could see the pain on your face as he gently held your face, trying to get through to you. “I know you want to hold your baby, I want that too. I want that so badly but I can’t give you your baby, that can’t happen. No one can bring your baby back, Angel.” Tears were rolling down his face at seeing you like this. Your eyes were constantly searching as more tears fell from them, he tried to wipe the tears away as fast as they rolled down your cheeks.

 Bin got behind you, caging you with his arms and chest. He pulled you flush to his chest and ran his hands up and down your arms as he slowly rocked you. He was trying to provide enough stimulation to get you back to being able to self-regulate. You were only getting worse as he watched helplessly. He tilted your head back to see you spiraling further down, “Binnie help me. I want my baby please.” You just wanted to let it consume you already. 

You quaked as you wished out loud, screaming without even knowing it, “Please, just let me die, let me go, I want my Baby.” You knew it was the pain, but at this point, not having your child was worse than death. You screamed without fighting anymore. Sometimes the seconds would stretch as you screamed till no air was left to make a noise. Those sobs made you feel like your chest was in a car crusher. You couldn’t stop them no matter how hard you tried, but in your mind, there was no point in stopping them. 

Changbin’s blood ran cold hearing you say that, feeling as if he got dunked in an ice bath. He choked on his own breath as he did his best to try to get his own voice to work. You may not want to be here right now, but he’s going to make sure that you make it. He looked into your eyes and they were completely dilated, you just lay on Bin’s chest as you made the decision. You were done fighting, the pain was too much. Bin felt it, he could feel the fight leave you as you went limp, crying. 

He knows this feeling… this was the same feeling that he felt when you were losing consciousness. His gaze snapped to your eyes, no fight, no struggle. You looked like you were calling out to Death. You wanted it so badly. What was worse was that Death was answering, he could feel it in the room. Cold, dark, and looming. 

His body went into overdrive, the shock melting into panic. He wasn’t going to let Death take you, “Han hurry up, she's slipping!” He screamed at the door. His scream didn’t sound like him. The sound akin to a bystander watching a loved one jump from a bridge. Watching the body disappear all because of one step. He couldn’t wouldn’t let you fall. He screamed as if he dove for your hand, the same hand that fits so perfectly in his, as you threatened to disappear over the ledge of that bridge.

Bin got closer to your ear, so you could hear him better, “Please don’t say that. I know it hurts, just stay with me, hold on. I’m here. Stay with me. You can’t leave me here, please.” Changbin tilted your head, so you could hear his heartbeat. Subconsciously thinking, If you go I go. He gently wrapped his arm across your breastbone, trying to provide some soothing pressure to your chest. His hand resting on your opposite arm, rubbing the meat of it in a soothing pattern. His other hand was petting your hair. The hold he had you in gave you someone to hold on to. As soon as his forearm rested you wrapped your hands around it, grabbing his hand as you dangled on the ledge.

“Binnie it hurts, pleaseee. Help me, it hurtss.” You sobbed, your voice cracking and breaking, a mirror of your soul. Bin continued to slowly rock you, “I know Angel, I know I want to take it away. Just hold on for me. Hold on to me.” He had no idea how he was able to be calm for you. A part of him knew that he needed to. He was not going to collapse so you could face all of this on your own. He refused. He needed to fight for you, and he would, for eternity if he had to.

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

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[cameronspecial]

fallin' all in you by shawn mendes and back to life by zayn

best friends to lovers, always there in the bad moments, always there in the best moments. those times of seeing the other with someone else til they finally confess to each other they are in love

Always There

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Mentions of Sex

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Sorry this isn't more related to the songs but the prompt really had me going.

Masterlist

It didn’t take long for Rafe to learn that she was going to be the most important person in his life. No, it really didn’t. It took the thirty seconds that it took for their fathers to leave the room for him to make that realization. The six-year-old stared at the short five-year-old girl in front of him, examining every part of her. He starts with the polished black Mary Janes that adorned her feet. They revealed the folded at the top perfectly white socks she is also wearing. The bottom of her wrinkle-free plaid pink dress kissed the bottom of her knees and not a single stain can be found on her white cardigan. Her nails were painted the same shade as her dress with no chip in sight. Small pearls circled her neck and her ears were studded with pearls as well. To complete the pristine look of the young girl, her hair was smoothed back into a high bun. Rafe was quick to assume he wasn’t going to have any fun playing with his father’s business partner’s daughter, but he was proven wrong by the first words she said to him. “Do you want to go play in the dirt?” Her question took him by surprise because her clothes certainly didn’t give the impression of a little girl who would want to play outside. Nevertheless, he nodded with a massive grin and dragged her to his backyard. 

When it was time to leave, the two newly made friends went running to their fathers; just not exactly in the same condition that they were left in. Both their clothes were now stained with mud and wrinkles were a plenty. The tight bun Y/N once wore at the crown was sagging at her nape and several knotted strands framed her face. Rafe’s gelled-back hair was mixed with mud, standing on its ends. To match their parallel appearance, her chipped nail polished hand gripped his slightly bigger ones. He had insisted that they held hands while they ran towards the back door. 

Ward’s eyes widened when he saw the state that the children were in and embarrassment flashed across his face. He was sure his son was the reason for the state they were in. He turned to the other adult prepared to apologize, “Nolan, I’m so sor-.” Mr. Y/L/N let out a good-hearted laugh with a shake of his head. “I told your mother that dress wasn’t going to last long. She knows you hate staying still or clean,” he noted, hunching over while taking off his glasses to wipe fake tears from his eyes. His daughter began to giggle with him and jumped into his arms, neither of them caring if his shirt got stained. Ward and Rafe looked at each other with uncertainty and continued to watch the other pair. Nolan stood straight with his daughter in his hold, “Did you have fun, Ladybug?” Y/N grinned at him. “YES, DADDY! Me and Rafe looked for worms and I chased him with one. I was faster. He is my best friend. Can we come back to play again?” The small boy’s heart flipped in his stomach at her words. He had hoped she had just as much fun as he did and he wanted nothing more than to be able to play again. He waited for her father to reply in anticipation. 

Nolan smiled warmly at his daughter, “Of course, Ladybug. Maybe he can come over to our house sometime. I’m sure he’d love to see the treehouse you and your brothers built.” He turned toward Ward for the next part. “That is, of course, if it is okay with Mr. Cameron.” “I think that’s a great idea,” Ward agreed. No one could see it, but Rafe did a little victory dance in his head. He had never been more glad to have been woken up early on a weekend because he was pretty sure he had met his future wife. 

———

That day he certainly met his best friend; where Y/N went, Rafe followed and vice versa. However, if the pair weren’t together, it was hard for either one of them to find the other. The bars of the ladder creaked as he climbed up them. As he got higher, he could hear the soft sniffles she was letting out. He got to the top and her hunched position confirmed she had been crying. His heart squeezed at her tears, causing him to hurry across the sun-shaped rug they had brought up there to her side. Once he was close enough, she instinctively turned into his hold. The twelve-year-old boy nuzzled her face into his neck. He ran his hand through the hair on the back of her head, waiting for her to calm down enough to speak. “He’s gone. Bernard is gone,” she wailed into his skin. He knew that. Her eldest brother had called when he couldn’t get her down from the treehouse. James explained to Rafe that Y/N’s pet snake, Bernard, had died and she had been up there all day, refusing to come down for anything. 

His cheek moves against her skull. He moved some of her hair behind her ear and kissed the skin beside her eye. “I know. I’m so sorry, Cookie. He meant a lot to you,” he mumbled with his lips against her skin. He could feel her nod under him, “He was supposed to have more time. They live for at least twenty years in captivity.” A cool breeze came over them. Even though it was the middle of the summer in the Outer Banks, the setting sun caused the temperature to drop. Her bare arms were littered with small bumps and his lips tightened. His hands began to rub up and down her arms in an attempt to bring her warmth. 

“Sometimes these things happen. Sometimes the people… or animals we love get sick and they have to go. That doesn’t mean that we stop loving them or they stop loving us, it just means we have to have faith that we will see them again,” he eloquently shared. “How about we go inside? We can get something to eat and talk about him.” 

She froze, raising her head to look at him. “I can’t. I can’t go back in there because it reminds me of him… Is this how you felt after your mom died? I mean, it must have been ten times worse because she was your mom.” His breath hitched at the mention of his deceased mother. He hated talking about his mother, yet whenever she asked, he answered. “Yeah. It was and sometimes still is hard to be at home. Right after I lost her, there were moments when I forgot she was gone,” he revealed. “I would be doing my homework in the dining room and occasionally expect her to come in to ask if I needed help. Or if I smell organes, then I wait for her to offer me some…” He trailed off, getting lost in the memory of his mother. She sensed the pain the recounting had brought him and contorted them so that he was the one with his ear to her chest. “We can share an orange now if you want. To honour her,” she suggested. He raised to check if she was sure. “We don’t have to. We would have to go inside to get one and I understand if that is too hard for you.” 

She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away. Her legs wobbled as she tried to stand. He held his hand out to help her. Her hand fell into his. “It’s okay, I think I can do it with you by my side.”

———

Rafe had been falling for Y/N since they met, except he had only realized that three years after Bernard had died. It was quite possibly the worst time for him to be going through it because he was going through puberty. His face was pimply and his voice cracked at horrible times. Although he still got girls, his unstable state caused him to lack the courage to go after the person he desired the most. It didn’t help that she only saw him as her best friend. 

“Ahhhhh! I got in,” she squealed as she wrapped her arms around his neck to bring him into a hug. He chuckled and moved his hands to the back of her thighs, giving them a little tap. She got the message and jumped to be in his hold. On-lookers would assume they were dating. He leaned back so he could see her eyes, “I’m so proud of you, Cookie. I knew you could do it. No one deserves it more than you.” They had been in that position for a few seconds and his biceps began to ache. He took it as a sign to start hitting the gym more. He wanted to get more toned anyway. His lack of strength was kept to himself because she loved it when he carried her. He had to agree that the position did give him butterflies, especially when the light would hit her face just right. His eyes found her irises and the air in his lungs deflated. Thankfully, the universe sent Gabriel to break the tension. “Eww, could you guys not do that in a common area,” he complained. Pete followed his brother into the room and nudged the older sibling with his elbow. “Leave them alone. They are in love.”

Y/N groaned at the interruption from her older brothers and dropped to the floor with an eye roll. “We are just friends. Plus, we are allowed to celebrate. I just got into a coding summer program I wanted to get into,” she announced. Rafe felt burnt by her first sentence. Her brothers went to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Both of them gave her congratulatory words. The siblings stepped back from each other after a moment of happiness. “We are bringing back takeout. Text us what you want,” Pete briefed before the two boys left. Silence covered the room and their eyes connected. 

His head gestured to the couch and they sat back down on it. The distance between them was quickly filled in by Y/N shuffling in. She rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh, both of them staring at the screen announcing the news. Reality set in for her. “We are going to have to be apart for a month,” she declared. To date, the longest they had been apart was three days. She had to go to Colorado at the last minute for her great-aunt’s funeral. Besides that, their families solely took group trips together because the pair refused to go without each other. Rafe felt her anxiety coming up and offered his hand to her. Her impulse drove her to grip his ring between her fingers. He let her rock the metal band back and forth on his digit. He shrugged, “We’ll be fine. We can text during the day and FaceTime whenever you want. It will be like we are together. I’ll even text you every time I need you to pick out what I eat. As if you are here with me.” She paused to think about what he said for a second. “Would you send me letters? Like people do in the movies.” He removed his hand from her lap and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Of course. With the number of different ways we will talk, I am always there for you,” he promised, thinking this might be the perfect opportunity to tell her how he felt. 

———

He never sent the letter and four years later, he regrets his cowardness to this day because now, it is too late. His hand resists the urge to crush the neon-green solo cup. She insisted that he got the colourful cups for his party because she thought they were cute. Of course, he gives into her every whim in hopes it will make her finally see him. It doesn’t work though; if it did, then she would be at the party with him and not with her boyfriend of one year, Jay. Jay, the new addition to the Kook civilization, is polite and always put together. So the complete opposite of Rafe and Mrs. Y/L/N's dream partner for her daughter. Rafe loathes the fact that Jay gets the title of Y/N’s first boyfriend and maybe one day her first sexual partner. At least two things provide him comfort, he was her first kiss and obviously, she must not feel confident in her relationship with Jay or else she would have had sex with him already. 

She isn’t a prude (the friends often talked about their masturbation fantasies) or waiting for marriage. Her wish is to give her virginity to someone she is certain loves her, so Jay must not give her that feeling. Rafe has seen the couple say I love you to each other and this confirms his suspicion that something feels authentic to her. Nonetheless, she stays in a relationship with Jay. The best friend once questioned her continued status as the other man’s girlfriend and she said she felt a spark she wasn’t ready to let go of. Rafe thought she was lying. Jay is the first choice her mother approved of and Rafe suspects that is one of the reasons Y/N is holding on to him. 

He is snapped out of his thoughts by a splash on his hand. His gaze leaves the sight of Jay whispering into Y/N’s ear as she giggles and trails down to his hand. The cup that was holding his beer is now rumpled in his gasp. He doesn’t mind. After he changes his beer-soaked shirt, he can get something stronger. He swims through the sea of people to get upstairs, chancing a glance at her before he disappears.

It takes him a while to find a shirt to wear. Every time he picks one up, he hears his best friend’s voice in his head. That one is too busy. That colour looks like puke. That one washes out your eyes. He searches for the slightly baggy silk-black button-up that she loves. She prefers a looser-fit shirt because she thinks a shirt that is too tight makes men look like sausages. No matter how many abs they have. He groans, remembering that the shirt is hand-wash only and the maid left it in the laundry room to dry. The shirts in his hands are thrown onto the floor and plans to go shirtless until he retrieves his shirt. As he is about to open his door, the familiar rasp of Jay’s voice can be heard through the door. “I can feel it, Dude. I am so close to sealing the deal with this bitch,” Jay hypes into the phone. “Of course, it is going to be worth it. She’s a virgin. You and I both know that they are always the freakiest because they want to try everything.” Being guilty of saying crude things, Rafe pieces together the meaning of the phone call. 

Anger slides under his skin, creating a large splinter. He doesn’t go after the asshole because his concern is Y/N. She deserves to know the truth before she makes her decision. 

He waits for Jay’s footsteps to fade and slides out of the door, taking a different route to get to her. It is perpetually easy to find her in the crowd. Her joyful aura draws him in wherever they are. Her hips sway to the beat of the music and her hands are in the air, one holding a pink solo cup. Her hair flows with the carefree movement of her head. Rafe hates that he has to be the one to wipe the smile off her face. The crowd doesn’t object to him pushing his way to her. They can see he is on a mission and everyone is familiar with his famous temper. His warm hand on her lower back causes her to turn in his direction. “Hey, Rafey. Where have you been?” she greets with a bright smile. A clench shoots through his heart, “We need to talk.” Her lips turn into a line at his serious expression. They understand each other’s small facial tics which makes reading each other’s emotions easy. Her head bobs and he guides her to his room. 

He closes the door and turns to find her sitting on his bed with a bounce. “What’s wrong?” she inquires. The corner of his lip puckers between his teeth. “You might not believe me, so I want you to know that I am telling you this because I love you.” She stands to shuffle by his side. “What do you want to tell me?” she presses on. He comes to shit beside her and rests his hand on hers, preparing himself for when she needs to play with his ring. “I overheard Jay on the phone and, I’m going to spare you the details, the sole reason he is dating you is because he wants to sleep with you. He sees you as a game and you don’t deserve a person who doesn’t appreciate you.” 

She isn’t shocked by the news. The lack of surprise doesn’t mean she isn’t upset. Sure, she isn’t head over heels for Jay, but they still spent a year building a relationship and trust. The fact that he is lying and simply sees her as an object is understanding. In spite of that, Y/N finds herself not as upset as she should probably be. She racks her brain for why the news isn’t more detrimental to her and the answer comes up in the form of two cerulean eyes. The man who played in the mud with her even though she was a girl. The man who would hold her in his arms whenever period cramps were hitting her hard. The man who always knew her order, no matter her restaurant. She never fell in love with Jay because she was already all in with Rafe. He is always there for her and she is now realizing she only wants him there. The small well of tear that is about to crop up gets waved away by her newfound feelings.

“That’s okay,” she whispers, shuffling closer to him. He stares into her eyes with arched eyebrows, “Really?” “Yeah. Because so far, I’ve been falling for men who weren’t how they appear. But I think I found a man who is exactly how he appears.” His confusion doesn’t wave from his face, so she makes her point clear by leaning in. He clocks her movement and his eyes flutter shut as he follows her lead. As their lips meet, love is breathed into each other's lungs and it becomes all-consuming. His rough lips soften with the help of her lip balm. They break apart in a small pant and their forehead smooch together. She grins at him, “If it isn’t clear, I have fallin’ all in you.” “Did you just quote Shawn Mendes?” he chuckles. She feints irritation, “I guess I won’t say what I was about to say then.” He shakes his head and rests his hand on the back of her neck to keep her there. “No. No. No. Keep going.” Her smile returns. “I love you.” The future he has imagined for them starts playing at full speed and he can’t believe he gets to catch up to it. “I love you too.” 

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