#what wondrous implications

[rubarb69]

The walls between the person I once was and the person I am now are crumbling faster than i can rebuild them

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

[kamesama]

Hiii, I have a request! Ok so hear me out, what if Sukuna finds another woman and replace reader. make it as angsty as possible with a happy ending pretty please with a cherry on top🥹

you have no idea how excited i got when i read this, and then i got disappointed when i ( after my 3rd time reading the request ) noticed you said a happy ending. BUT SINCE IT HAS A CHERRY ON TOP, i will oblige. i would have made this worse if it wasn't for the happy ending.

— favourite: ryōmen sukuna.

— notes + warnings: *cracks knuckles* utter, sheer, disgusting sensation of feeling replaced; jealousy; mentions of self-loathing; mentions of intimacy/intercourse ( sukuna sleeping w/ another woman, etc ); implication of violence / cruel sukuna moment ( what do you expect? ); happy ending tho ( ? ); hurt/comfort ( ? ); unspecified but it's heian era / true-form! sukuna; concubine w/ an attitude! reader. — word count: 1224

oh, to be the apple of one’s eye — utterly adored, all-too-greatly desired, cherished beyond measure. irreplaceable.

oftentimes you felt like so, when sunken into the mattress for the sake of being ravished. when preyed on by an intense blood-hued gaze. when cradled almost gently upon the throne that was sukuna’s lap. 

but how foolish of you to think that you were the single person privileged to chant his name in ecstasy. how adorable of you to think that only your fingernails could claw down his back to leave incoherent trails of pleasure you always lost yourself in. how pathetic of you to think that it was solely your own luxury to occupy the spot upon his thighs. how audacious of you to think that your lips, and your lips alone, were entitled to the act of worshipping his skin; from the sharp angle of his jaw, down his beating pulse, across the expanse of his broad chest. how bold of you to think that your tongue was the single one capable of conjuring up tales that could tickle his fancy and shackle his interest and entertain his unpredictable whims. 

and so, you pondered. when another had come to occupy his chamber after dark, with her lush skin and silken hair and slender legs, you pondered, for what else could you possibly do, contained between the walls of your room? 

have you rotten already?

you’ve seen her march and stomp to his chamber, leaving an invisible trace of the scent so strong you could swear it still haunted your nostrils. her lips glistened in the candlelight as if coated with a thick layer of honey that she must have rubbed into her tongue and gums earlier that eve. she wore her eroticism proudly; the subtle arch of her mouth was an aphrodisiac of its own. 

the walls were always thin, but that night, they seemed thinner than ever. you could swear you’ve heard every gasp, every moan, every writhe. the curl of her toes, the grip of her slender digits at the sheets as her back arched in that wondrous curve. did his lips touch every inch of her body? from the saccharine spot on her neck to the delightful mounds on her chest? the thin skin of her hip; the lush softness of her thighs?

did his tongue utter praises of her performance, of her appearance, of her? did he claim her with nothing short of delight coursing through his accursed veins?

the sole thought made you so sullenly disappointed. your own bedding had never felt colder.

“you look miserable, woman. what is it with that attitude?” as blunt as ever, sukuna questioned, his knuckles sunken into his cheek as he watched you peel a pomegranate. despite the skillfulness faithfully coating your movements, your digits remained stained with the rich hue of the fruit’s insides; despite the effort to be flawless.

your lips pursed in response, a small sign of displeasure standing hand-in-hand with reluctance. perhaps you are acting coy — sukuna concluded — lacing your foul mood with a girlish act and bratty demeanour. not that it would render him surprised. rather, it tickled his curiosity, fueled his fantasy, and made him just a tidbit of something somewhat akin to concern.

“speak, princess,” he cooed, deciding to humour your wits with barely a mouthful of niceties. he leaned back in his seat, patting his lap with one of his hands, whilst one rested on the thigh of his other leg. the remaining two were crossed over his chest either out of boredom or superiority; or perhaps both. 

you wanted to disobey; to turn your head away with a huff as your fingertips dug into pomegranate seeds. to maintain your shred of pride, wearing your displeasure with a sense of dignity out of sole respect for all the umbrage and anguish lulling you to sleep on the nights when you weren’t worthy enough. 

but you didn’t.

almost too eagerly, you put away the fruit into a bowl to bleed, nearly crawling to his lap. despite the willingness of your body to nest so closely against his, however, your face remained with its little scowl, your eyes almost overfilled with chagrin. 

“am i not your favourite?” 

the audacity soaked your words, dripping heavily off them. sukuna sensed it; the thickness of envy in your voice, and all the more loathing that nearly looked like some deranged form of self-pity.

his slit brows rose up, his crimson gaze intense enough to have made you feel that — if he were to look just a little deeper into your eyes — he would see the way your hands massaged your own breasts as if to grasp whether or not they were shapely enough; the way you trailed one same line underneath your eye time and time again in an attempt to determine if sleeplessness has made you revolting.

“why should you desire another to warm your bed?”

a grin tugged at the corners of sukuna’s mouth as a sense of understanding weighed on his shoulders. a small hum of acknowledgement sounded from the top of his throat, his eyes closing as he took your stained hand and brought it up to his lips.

“so that’s what this is about,” he mused, his tongue shamelessly trailing across your digits to lap up the sour sweetness coating them, “jealousy is a pesky thing, little one.”

“i don’t care,” you scoffed, trying to ignore the way he gently sucked on the tip of your finger before looking at you, one of his hands absentmindedly caressing up your thigh through the silken material of your clothing, “it should be me. just me. i am the only one you summon to peel your fruits and to accompany you while you write, so why call upon another to please you at night?” you demanded. it seemed to amuse him all the more.

he raised a brow at your words and their curious tone, “you’re forgetting your place, woman,” he spoke coldly, yet the edge of his statement was somewhat softened by a dash of entertainment. nonetheless, it was enough to send shivers down your spine as his fingers sunk into your cheeks, making your luscious lips pucker. he observed your features; that small tidbit of defiance standing in defence of your vulnerability, your need, your craving. it made him grin with a certain kind of wickedness.

“but i do suppose that makes you my favourite,” he uttered, “no one else would dare be such an audacious thing…” his thumb grazed over your lower lip, parting your mouth open just enough to catch a glimpse of the pink flesh inside, “i could rip your tongue out for your insolence,” he cooed slowly, as if imagining your bleeding mouth, filled to the brim with crimson, “and you’d still be just as pretty.”

a shiver ran down your spine enough to make your bones feel frozen to the marrow, yet his touch left your body scorched; blood boiling with desire for whatever wicked debauchery his mind could conjure up.

“but i do appreciate your tales. very much so.” he spoke, easing his grasp on your face, instead morphing it into an almost appreciative caress.

the uncharacteristically gentle kiss planted to your brow seemed to calm your pounding heart for a mere few moments.

“perhaps i have some reminding to do.”

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

[whosjunglejim4322]

Saccharine - E.M

Warnings ® smut! Fluff, soft bf Eddie<3, first time sex as a couple! Nasty IN LOVE smut bc this bitch is a hopeless romantic! Eddie is super sensitive, Established relationship, you stroke his dick, Eddie almost cums in his pants, lil bit of dry humping, this is incredibly self indulgent but u didn't hear that from me, overly descriptive bc why not

You shouldn't be nervous, really. It's just Eddie, who is your boyfriend of three months and twenty-six days. Who is sitting across from you on his creaky mattress criss-cross style, your knees touching. Your Eddie, who has two big hands flailing in the air as he goes on about the recent campaign, broad mouth etched into a whimsical smile, big eyes wondrous and full of excitement for the tale.

The bed bounces with his enthusiasm, and you draw closer to him with each syllable.

Your Eddie, who is doing nothing out of the ordinary, and who is as beautiful as ever in loose fitting plaid pyjama bottoms and a tattered black tee that exposes half of his collarbone and smudges of black ink - he doesn't even have to try, and perhaps these simple mundane realizations are what cause the flutter of wings in the pit of your stomach.

"And then Mike - hey, you okay?"

If it weren't for his vast change in expression, you truly wouldn't have realized what a trance you're in. Between the furrow of his unkempt brows and the amused but curious tilt at the corner of his mouth, you come back to earth. The weight of gravity settles in your bone marrow, as his calloused thumb quickly strokes your chin as if to remind you he is still here.

"I - yeah yeah, sorry I just," you grab his hand by the heaviness of his wrist, dragging it into your lap so you can stroke the back of his rough knuckles. "got distracted s'all."

Your eyes divert to where your fingers are joined and the sound of his airy, through-the-nose chuckle has more heat blossoming behind your ribcage, nudging at your organs.

"I'll stop with the D&D talk, know you hear enough about it from the kids. There's only so much dorkiness you should be subjected to, y'know?"

It's lighthearted, he's smirking and looking down at you with enough palpable fondness the apples of your cheeks feel like they're being stroked by a flame. Still, the implication that he may be bothering you in any way has an urgency filling your eyes. You shake your head.

"No, no that never bothers me Eds, don't be silly." The nickname makes his mouth dry, still, after three months and twenty-six days. You finally meet his glance. "You're just handsome, really handsome especially when you're talking about something you're passionate about and I just...yeah."

It's word vomit, messy and you feel like it makes no sense but then he squeezes your hand and you know that he reads between the nervous mumbo jumbo - you have no clue how you make him feel, do you?

"You're fucking cute." He breathes out earnestly, smoothing his grip upwards to your forearms and pulling you forward with minimal effort - right onto the stirdiness of his lap.

Your giddiness is the perfect portrait, your arms finding a resting place atop his broad shoulders. Curls tickle the tops of your arms and your wrists, and your thighs brace your frame by the slim of his taut waist. He can't help it, the giggles escaping his throat. The proximity is intoxicating for no reason at all.

"Can't believe this is our first time spending the night together, I'm so used to falling asleep on the phone with you that it really doesn't feel all that different." He smooths your hair out of your eyes, tucks it behind your left ear.

I get to touch her like this, he thinks to himself. His chest jostles underneath the muscle and bone.

"Yeah, except I get to fall asleep with you'n my arms, wake up with you in em' too. I'm one lucky son of a bitch, hmm?"

He's practically thinking out loud, but he's too far gone to feel shame. When you nuzzle your face against the warm nook of his neck, wet lips smiling against the flesh, his encapsulating arms squeeze you impossibly tighter. He buries his nose against the top of your head, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. Your cheek grazes the side of his jaw as you meet him face to face, nose to nose.

He sees you trying to formulate words, a sentence, even a sound but none of it seems like a totally accurate way to express the adoration threatening to consume you from the inside out. You graze his cheek with your mouth, slowly, tentatively, and he hangs on with half an air full of lungs.

You suckle his bottom lip and he sighs into your mouth, the relief making him lightheaded. He kicks into gear and pushes back with an overlap of his mouth - hands wandering over the small of your back, to your soft lovehandles and upwards until his fingrtips have passed your jugular and he's holding your face as tenderly as you're holding his.

It's now, when you feel it - the growing firmness beneath he thin material of his bottoms. He tries to keep it at bay but it's damn near impossible, and the whimper, the fucking whimper you let out when his soft tongue touches yours from the warm cavern of your mouth - he couldn't stop it from twitching even if he wanted to. He's only a man.

And you're a menace. As new as this is, your body reacts to the prod in between your legs, underneath your crotch. You press yourself tighter to his frame, hips scooching against his hard-on in the process and he stiffens.

"Mmm, baby baby..." your pout is immediate when he breaks from your mouth, brows furrowed and lips a kiss bitten fuschia. For a moment, you think you've taken it too far too fast - he's stopped you from moving completely. Your whole body burns with a tingly sensation somewhere between shame and the aftershocks of arousal.

"Are you...are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

You sound so sweet, it makes his lower belly ache among other things. He stifles a laugh brcause he knows it will only make you feel worse. Something wrong. Something wrong.

"Fuck no, I-sorry I just uh...almost..." He can't bring himself to say it, you guys haven't even been kissing for five whole minutes and here he is about to blow his load. When you realize how close his dark lashes are from kissing his cheeks, how his pupils have almost turned the whole of his irises onyx, you connect the dots.

Woah, you did that to him? That moth in your belly threatens to take flight, and without much thought, your mouth is moving before you can stop it.

"I wanna see."

Those are the only words your brain allows you to spit out. His chest has gone still, and you feel that twitch against your center again. Your thighs have begun to tremble.

"You wanna see...? My cock?" He shouldn't sound so incredulous. You're his girlfriend for christ's sake, but you are important to him. More important than he ever thought anyone could be, and so he has kept his lust at a minimum of 48% when he's around you for the most part. Save for intense makeout sessions.

"Yeah, I wanna...well I wanna know how to make you feel good."

He's worried for a moment that he's having another wet dream, but he's sure this is real life because he feels how warm you are against him and you are so close he can see his own reflection in your eyes. You toy with the shell of his ear and a chill ascends his spine.

"Sweetheart if you touch me m'not gonna last long." His skin is pink and scarlet, and he's gotten at least ten degrees hotter judging by the heat billowing off of the back of his neck. His adams apple bobs when he swallows.

"That's okay, really it is. You have nothing to be embarrassed about....I like it. Like that I make you feel that way. " You rake your fingers through the front of his hair, pushing it away from his pretty face. He checks your eyes again, needing confirmation.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He gnaws on the inside of his plush mouth, tries to calm the animal inside of him that wants to fuck your brains out right now. He almost feels guilty just thinking about it, until you lean over to peck the side of his stubbly chin, fingertips grazing his taut belly.

"Yes, really wanna."

There is a curious, nervous anticipation in the crinkle underneath your eyes.

"Kay' baby, explore all you want." The boyish smirk he gives is enough to have that knee buckling tingling sensation coming back full force as he presents himself to you like this. Does he seem as pulled together and totally not overly nervous as he thinks he does? Probably not.

His arms depart from your body, ribs expanding as he reclines on his palms. Tendons flex and stretch underneath the black bats and fuzzy layer of hair atop his forearm. You swallow, intimidated by the beauty of the boy.

You find the courage to finally move off of his lap so that you can take him all in, and the bulge of his cock swipes the underside of your thigh as you slide off.

You don't know where to touch first. That's a lie, your hands almost instinctively slip underneath the hem of his old shirt, where that dark thatch of hair trails under his belly button. He's soft, so soft it's unreal, he is velvet and delicious scarring and beauty marks. His tummy convulses underneath your hand.

He watches you with complete fixation. You have your bottom lip tucked between your teeth and you don't even realize it, all perched and pretty in front of him. He closes his eyes when you explore his sides, over the planes and arches and past the small stretch marks by his chest.

You can't ignore it anymore, the tent that has formed at his crotch and continues to throb with each passing touch.

The blunt of your nails rake down the soft plaid covering thick thighs, and he takes this sharp breath that has you glancing up at him with heavy eyes.

"So pretty...Eds you're so pretty." You say it ardently, your voice small and weak. An arm reaches down, strong but gentle as he strokes the back of your plush cheek with his ring covered knuckles.

"Can't fucking believe...can't believe you're mine, finally. Shit." He's almost murmuring to himself again, on the verge of cardiac arrest. Maybe he's losing his mind, maybe this is heaven.

Then your palm presses against the thick of his cock where it's bulging out, and his thighs spasm.

"Oh, oh." He's all curses and praises, giving you encouraging glances each time you look up at him to silently ask for guidance. You move your hand up and down what you assume is his shaft, and he keeps his hips from bucking into your touch. He feels thick, and the back of your mouth starts to water.

Without warning you're hooking your fingers into his waistband, and he lifts his hips in compliance so that you can pull them down to his mid thigh. He has no time for nerves anymore. Any fear he previously had about what his dick looks like, or what you'll think of it, is stripped along with his clothing. You're looking at him with too much love for him to be insecure - and that takes him by surprise the most.

At this point his checkered boxers are just in the way, and you take it upon yourself to pull those down too. A thud hits his belly.

And really, you should've known. He's big. Not because he's impossibly long, his size is above average but he's thick - the tip iridescent with precum, the same shade of plum as his lips underneath the slick sheen. He is slightly curved upwards, a prominent vein decorating the underside parallel to his frenulum. It's pretty, just like the rest of him. He's neatly trimmed, which is the most surprising part if you're honest - but nothing about Eddie could ever be displeasing to look at.

Your mouth is parted with this expression of surprise, and Eddie almost can't believe what this is doing for his ego.

"Woah." Is all you say, transfixed when you reach out to grasp the appendage. He hisses through his teeth when your small hand finally grasps it, so fucking warm and so gentle it's almost maddening. You both feel it, the invisible weight that has settled in his small, messy room.

The weight of being alone, together, all night and all of tomorrow afternoon while his uncle Wayne is away on a business trip that is probably more lucrative than what he leads on - but Wayne has never been one to boast or speak about things like that out loud. Says it'll jinx the whole thing.

The feeling hits you first, as you find this foreign courage to lean over and dribble spit over the slit of his cock. He gasps, watching the glob of saliva drip down the front of his dick till it's soaking into the curls at his pubic mound.

"Is this okay?" You already know the answer but you ask anyways, taking more pride than you should at the expression on the pretty metalheads face. He nods his head fervently, unable to respond right away.

You twist your palm, spreading your spit further until his whole head is covered and you're able to stroke him with no resistance.

"Fuuuck, yes. Yeah, that's so good baby." He's panting as you begin to properly jerk the tip of him off, the sounds in the room too lewd for you to handle. A squelchy feeling has developed between your thighs, led by each filthy groan that leaves your boyfriend's throat.

Then you're looking at him through fluttery lashes and a gone expression, with your chest rising and falling almost as rapidly as his and thick fingers grasp your wrist quickly, rougher than anticipated.

"Sorry, just - close."

Seeing his hand blanket yours over his cock is doing something to you. You know his palms like your own, hold them more than you look at your own, and yet right now such a sweet thing has never been more provocative.

"Shh, no more apologizing," you lean over and he meets you in the middle. The kiss is sloppy this time, evidence of the maddening desire taking him over from the inside out.

"Not fair," his voice is strained through your mouths ministrations. "Got me all worked up and you're sitting there neglected." He smiles and his tongue strokes your bottom lip. You shudder as that heat comes in an overwhelming wave.

He's gripping the back of your neck now, properly hungry and your hand continues its ministrations between your bodies, that wet sound prompting a shared groan from the both of you - intensifying the feeling. His nose is scrunched against your cheek from the vigour of his kisses.

"You can undress me."

He doesn't waste time once you've granted him verbal permission, and with an exhale you're being tipped over onto your back, breathing in the weight of him as nimble and eager fingers pull his tee shirt over and off your body.

"Jesus," He whines, and you're captivated by the look on his face. It's impossible not to feel flustered.

"Can I-" you don't let him finish.

"Yes, please touch me." You're just as fucked as he is, arching your chest upwards and into the warm, all encompassing mass of his palm. He stifles a groan, cock bobbing up and down in the space between you two, dribbling with a bead of pre arousal. You feel like you're losing your mind.

Eddie short circuits for about five whole seconds flat, and he can't concentrate. He makes a bee - line to your chest, plush lips sucking your swollen nipples into his mouth. A gasp and a pulse of your poor clit later, and your fingers delve into his curls like they'll keep you here in this moment forever.

He's sloppy, moving between the valley of your breasts to the other one, leaving trails of spit across your flesh.

"Eddie, that - that feels so good, can't - mmph." You're a mess. How are you such a mess? He's a phantom, a head of hair across your sternum until he glances up at you with saliva soaked lips and red cheeks and a sweaty forehead.

"Sweet girl, oh god I can't believe..." All you taste is him, the words being uttered between the space when he forces himself to breathe. "can't believe you're all mine, wanna make you feel so fucking good. Give you anythin' you want."

He lies his full weight on you, and through the thin sleeping shorts you've got on, his cock beckons you with throbs and weeps. You feel drunk off of him, every sense surrounded by Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.

His shampoo from two days ago, the old spice lingering under his arms, the natural scent of his skin, the sweetness of his breath and the perspiration that's formed in little beads on his upper lip. He's all but devouring you, lust and admiration for the angel beneath him taking over any sense of importance regarding anything else.

Your heels dig into the back of his bum, knees pulling inward so that his hips come clashing into yours. Your fingernails claw on the material covering his back, taking it upon themselves to pull it over his head. He's beaming like a kid in a candy store at your eagerness, eyes all crinkly underneath.

"Want me to grab a rubber now?" He mumbles between the sloppy kisses, hoping you can't hear the hitch in his throat at the prospect of this finally happening.

"Mhmm, yes." It feels just as surreal for you.

He whines as he departs, reaching over across your head to pull open his bedside drawer and ungracefully tear open the new box of condoms. His eyebrows are furrowed, arms flexing with intensity from his excitement. He groans out of frustration, and you giggle, grasping his thick forearm.

"Let me help baby." You reach in the drawer for him and pull the box out, finishing the rip he'd made and pulling out a metallic row of squares. You tear one at the perforation and hand it to him, grinning at the entire situation. He huffs and rests his forehead between the valley of your breasts.

"What would I do without you?" He mutters, matching your expression when he lifts his head back up and pushes forward to kiss you on the tip of your nose.

"Not have sex, I suppose." You bite back with no hint of malice, only an insurmountable level of love and he sees it shimmering everywhere around you. His girl. His.

"You're somethin' else, sweetheart." He mouths the side of your face, across your jaw and underneath your ear.

You feel like you're in a psychological limbo, in a world between consciousness as he sits back on his haunches and lifts his shirt off of his body from the back of his collar. That may be a dramatic sentiment to many, but it's fitting.

He does it so casually, throws his shirt to the side with the rest of discarded clothing and stray items that live on his bedroom floor. You feel weak in the knees when he tears the condom package and pulls out the slippery rubber, unraveling it before bringing it down to his cock.

You watch his face the way his pink tongue darts out and nips the tip of his tongue, brows furrowed in concentration and arousal as he fits the condom down his thick shaft. You watch his biceps twist, his taut abdomen clench, the black ink coming alive with the ministrations of his muscles underneath.

When he meets your eyes again, you look completely overtaken with desire, eyelids heavy and breath bated. Your pebbled nipples stand at full attention, mimicking his dick and Eddie hooks his fingers underneath those infuriatingly sexy shorts of yours so that he can get rid of them.

You're not wearing underwear. Of course you aren't. Your entire existence is specifically designed to test the bounds of his composure, of his strength. The gold room lighting from his lamp illuminates your body and your shy thighs only part when he's placing his palms between them, slowly encouraging them to allow him a peek or two.

You reach out to stroke his arms as he separates your legs, his jaw hanging ever so slack, cock twitching just a few centimeters away from your opening.

"Fucking hell...you're so goddamn pretty." He strains, swallowing hard as he touches you with hesitant hands, as if he's scared to break you. Your hips lift, just enough to make contact with the tip of his dick and you whine. It's a sound so sweet he almost whimpers himself.

"Please, Eds. I want you inside of me. Please."

His stomach tightens and he crawls over you once again, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He maintains eye contact, breath fanning your mouth as he slips an arm between your bodies and grips his shaft, lining it up with your entrance. Your thighs lift towards your chest, ankles stationed at his waist, and you feel the welcome intrusion of his tip as it passes your slick labia.

You both take a breath in, your fingers needing a vice and moving to the back of his neck as he pivots his hips forward and slips himself into the tightness of your cunt. The stretch causes you to hiss, both in pleasure and pain.

"You okay? Let me know if I need to stop." He grunts, kissing your chin.

"M'okay, don't you dare stop."

His eyelids flutter in tandem with yours, a choked moan leaving his throat as he continues to push himself in, till he's nudging against the soft roundness of your cervix and his balls are resting against your ass.

It feels right. Having him this deep, this close.

You shudder nuzzling your face against the bicep that holds him up. You kiss the skin there and he groans, dragging himself back out and then back in. Your whole body jostles with the movement.

"Jesus Christ, how do you feel s'fucking good? I don't - I can't, fuck." He's a slur of words, beginning to form a steady rhythm. Your moans are more like squeaks the faster he goes, increasing the lewd, sticky sounds between your legs that squelch with each drag and pull of his cock.

"Eddie...E-eddie." Your words are hiccuped from the impact, his hair dangling in your face, tickling your cheeks. His belly is pressed right against yours, the curls at the mound of his pelvis pressed against yours. He lets out this pained sound and goes to bury his face in the crook of your neck.

"My name, fuck say it again. Say it again." It's muffled but you can hear it right underneath your ear, his lips a soft vibration against your flesh. You feel so full, it's hard to speak at all. To say anything other than his name. So you recite it like it's the only words you know.

"Eddie Eddie Eddie Eddie." They're all punctuated with a whimper that starts from your diaphragm and crawls it's way out of your throat, pistoned by his hips and their grueling ministrations. Skin against skin can be heard from down the park, you're convinced, with how he's fucking you.

Eddie is fucking you. Your boyfriend, Eddie, is fucking you.

"Ohhhh, god, please." You cry out, heels digging into his back, hands splayed across the broad expanse of his shoulder blades. Every breath that passes his lips is followed by a grunt, a groan, a sound that is so close to agony and even closer to toe curling pleasure.

Each stroke of his cock inside of you feels like a pull into his being, and you get frustrated with the fact that you can't see his face, tugging at the back of his neck.

When you look up at the boy above you, reality, for once, feels like the most beautiful thing you've ever endured.

He's flushed, all sweat and shades of pink and red. His eyes are glassy, mirroring yours in the way that it almost looks like he could shed a tear. You move his sticky bangs from his forehead and Eddie is sucker punched in the gut with a wave of adoration.

"Oh, sweetheart," he leans down, slowing his thrusts so that he can kiss you steadily, purposefully. Somehow he feels deeper this way impossibly so, and he nips your bottom lip when you flutter around him. "didn't mean to...to not show you attention m'sorry, just...you feel so good. S'like heaven."

He's half sober half drunk on your pussy and it's so fucking endearing. Neither of you can make out a coherent sentence.

"Keep - keep going, just like that, ohhh." You glance down between your bodies and somewhere behind your organs a warmth, teetering unbearable, flutters throughout your limbs. His arms shake with the fight to hold himself up, until he doesn't anymore, and slips his hands underneath you till they're sandwiched between the mattress and your back. Snug, safe, he engulfs you.

His thrusts are deep and slow now, meaningful instead of mindless bunny fucking. Which, he's not opposed to, but you're you. He wants to fuck you like he might not ever get the chance to again.

"I love you, I love you." He whimpers against the crook of your shoulder. You hold him with the same ferocity that he's holding you, staring up at the ceiling and the stars that blanket your vision instead of the fan above.

"I love you too, fuck, Eddie."

He makes this noise, it's almost pathetic. Petulant. That coil holding you tight, snaps and all at once you're gasping, thighs a deadly grip around his waist.

"Cu-Cumming, I'm cumming." Your walls flex and spasm around his length and Eddie thinks he might pass out. You're still twitching and whining his name with his balls are emptying, when he's spurting into the condom, nudging your cervix.

"Fuck, fuck just like tha- ohhh fuck." He thrusts like he's fucking his cum into you, like he's filling your womb up and making you his forever. He made you cum. He's never felt this high before, and he's a fucking drug dealer.

It's a mixture of panting and the thud of your shared heartbeat for what feels like eternity and one split second. You feel his lips peppering soft, gentle kisses along your jugular, and your fingers trace lines up and down his warm back as his cock softens inside of you.

He rubs his cheek against you, and your fingers pull his hair away from his pretty face. He's looking at you with so much love you could burst again.

"I love you so much." He speaks tenderly, softly, for once. It's scary and breathtaking all at once. The tip of his nose rubs yours, your smiles a reflection of the other.

"I love you too, Munson."

And you do. You really fucking do.

[tinietaehyun]

Bliss of Time

[WhiteRabbit!Soobin x Lost!Reader] [Wondrous Tales] [One-shot Series]

Pairing: WhiteRabbit!Soobin x Lost!Reader

Genres: fantasy, angst, romance, fluff, dark fantasy, alice in wonderland inspired.

Contains: profanity, mentions of beheading, punishment, implications of death, angsty themes, panic attacks, hallucinations, anxiety.

Links: Masterlist | Wondrous Tales Masterlist

Summary: With your abrupt arrival into this whimsical space, you wander around aimlessly. How odd, every turn you took, you ended up in the same spot.

Though as they say, third time’s the charm, when you encounter a blonde haired man, with a top hat and formal attire - goodness, were you going insane already?

The man gives you a gentle smile, walking towards you with his hand outstretched, “Goodness it’s been awhile since we’ve had any guests,” he observes you, “A pretty one no less.” That‘s it, you were definitely going insane.

He brings your hand to his lips with a soft gaze, “You must be so frazzled, guests always are. Well it’s my pleasure to be your guide. Now, come on, chop, chop, time’s ticking.” With a swift tug, you’re getting pulled along by this strangely tall man. What had you gotten yourself into?

Horrendous neon petals, purple stems and red bushes, multicoloured trees. Where on earth were you? Grotesque purple vines everywhere and a cobbled path that you had fallen upon, probably bruising the hell out of your knees.

Brushing yourself off, you stand up taking in your whimsical and wacky surroundings. The air smelled sweet and everything was disgustingly bright here. You yelp seeing a duck and her orange spotted ducklings waddle behind her.

This had to be some sort of dream, right? You picked up an invitation, opened up the envelope and poof! You were here. Yeah, this definitely had to be a dream. You pinch your arm and hiss in pain, no, no, you could feel pain. Perhaps this was just a really realistic dream?

Panic sets into your mind and you peer around lost. Where did you even come from? The sky? You remember falling, but there’s no portal, door or well, anything in the sky from where you supposedly fell. Your gaze drifts to a pitifully old, broken sign with faded letters: ‘Welcome to Wonderland.’

Great, just great. How lovely. You scramble around in your pockets to attempt to get your phone but to no avail. What the fuck? Where did your phone, keys, and whatever else you had on you go? No, no, no. You were well and truly trapped here with not even a way to call for help!

You groan dragging a hand down your stressed face, “Oh I’m fucked,” you shakily murmur, “This is bad, so, so bad.”

Building up some semblance of resilience and determination you begin following the path. Standing around wallowing in distress would get you nowhere, that’s for sure! Thus, you begin trekking down the bumpy path taking in your wild surroundings and hoping for the best.

After what seems like a few minutes, you spot the same neon yellow flower. Your brows furrow, maybe it was just another one of the same species. Yeah. No, wait- that tree with the broken branch, you swore you had passed that before. You look around and see the same broken sign.

“The fuck…?” You question wide-eyed, bamboozled by your circumstances. Did you just walk in one big circle? But the path seemed relatively straight? You didn’t take any turns? Huh? Confusion laces your features and you shake your head to get some bearings.

You walk down the path again, this time making note of key features, making sure you didn’t walk off the path at any point. Your jaw drops ajar seeing the same welcome sign. You were back to the beginning.

Your head pounds and your legs begin to ache. No, no, how long would you have to walk like this? Why was there no sense of direction? Was this your incapability or did this space have mischievous properties preventing you from leaving this spot? Dread fills your soul. A shaky breath escapes you, this was awful.

Would you rot here unable to escape this perpetually horrendous loop?

Shaking your head, you walk down the path. One more time. Maybe you just have to keep trying! Maybe there would be something different at least once, right? So, once again, you march down the path-

Only to be met with the same spot again. A frustrated scream escapes you, “No, no, no!”

Panic, disorientation and fatigue begin to plague your senses. This was the third time. How many more times would you have to walk this god forsaken path? Or were you just destined to never break free? Was this hell? Did you die? You’d go insane here!

The crunch of leaf litter alerts you and you peer around with your heart racing. What was that? Your body tenses and your breath hitches as tall, pale man with blonde locks and an absurdly tall top hat with two white ears embroidered on it as he pushes through the foliage.

You observe the male cautiously, gazing at his formal attire consisting of a baby blue satin shirt and various buckles, a waistcoat and sleek trousers and boots. His face however…was the picture of beauty in this wacky wasteland. So much so it almost causes you whiplash.

Maybe you did die, and this was an angel? His pouty lips, sharp, narrow nose and pale grey eyes. He looked beautiful. Oh, most definitely you must be going insane. Look at you, already hallucinating a stunning man!

The man gives you a gentle smile, walking towards you with his gloved hand outstretched. “Goodness it’s been awhile since we’ve had any guests,” he observes you taking in your face and form, “And a pretty one, no less.” You almost keel over on the spot.

Was this some perverse fantasy your brain thought of? Did you get drugged perhaps?

He clicks his tongue with a humourous hum, “Ah, ah, I see your brain gears turning, no need to overthink,” he pouts cooing, “You must be so confused right now,” he peers at his pocket watch, “I did run late after all! I do sincerely apologise, you can’t get out of the loop without my guidance after all!”

Your expression becomes deadpan. Of course you fucking can’t because that just makes sense, doesn’t it? He rambles softly, “Oh, I’ve been having such a busy day, running around here and there, you couldn’t imagine it! The King’s meeting overran as well because he couldn’t choose what to wear, goodness me-“

You cut in frankly, “Uhm, hey, Mr…?” You drawl awkwardly. “Call me Soobin, also known more commonly as the White Rabbit, the timekeeper. I do apologise, it’s utterly rude to not introduce myself. And you are?”

“Right…” you murmur, “Y/n. My name’s Y/n.” Soobin hums taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips, “Wonderful name. We’ve never ever had a Y/n visit Wonderland before. You must be so frazzled, guests always are. Well, it’s my pleasure to be your guide. Now, come on, chop, chop, time’s ticking.”

With a swift tug, you’re getting pulled along by this strange man. What had you gotten yourself into?

“I already walked this path,” you stammer trying to keep up with his long legs making quick strides. He seemed to be in a hurry. Soobin peers over his shoulder with a smile, “Oh, I’m well aware, lovely.” You quirk confused, “So…why are we walking down this route again?”

He chuckles, “Ah, well for those who don’t live here, the illusions here can be quite difficult to surpass.”

You sigh. You know what, if you want your sanity intact, you decide it’s best not to question it any further. “Right, makes sense,” you mutter. Soobin muses, “It does now, does it? It’s not supposed to, or are you used to walking in never ending loops?”

Rolling your eyes, you hum, “Not particularly, no. It seems you are, though.” He is delighted by your sarcastic remark, “You’ve got a little spunk, I like that. You’ll need some wit and resilience to make it here, after all. Wonderland isn’t for the weak minded.”

You grimace, “Good to know…” You glance down at his hand wrapped around yours. “Uh, Soobin, where exactly are you taking me?” You question unsurely.

“Well, there’s only one destination according to the King of Hearts rules! That’s his palace! All guests must be brought to the palace.” He hums. “King of Hearts? Is he the ruler of Wonderland?” You inquire. Soobin nods, “Indeed he is, it’s rather unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate? Why?” You question. Soobin grimaces, “Well, he’s…rather impulsive. Cruel, even. Often most people don’t make it out of her grasp, he’ll execute them if he grows bored.” You rip your hand out of his grasp with a bewildered expression, “Then why on earth would you take me there?”

Soobin gives you almost a pitiful smile, “It’s my duty to escort all guests to the King. It’s been years since our last guest, I believe you’ll be paraded rather highly.”

You shake your head and exclaim, “No, no, this King of Hearts seems terrible! Do you work for him? How many people have you led to their demise?”

Soobin’s eyes flicker with an unknown emotion, “Come now, lovely. Don’t make this difficult, I’m on a schedule here. Time’s ticking.”

You snap, “What schedule; as if anything in this shitshow of a world has a schedule!” Soobin flinches at your tone and he sighs in frustration, “It’s inevitable I suppose, you are right. I am destined to be late.”

You regard him with a blank expression. What does that even mean? Soobin chuckles at your lost expression, “No matter how much I follow my pocket watch, I’m always late. I have to thank the Hatter for that.”

“You’re throwing a lot of nonsensical words at me, Soobin,” you quip with confusion. Soobin’s fingers trail the rim of his hat, “I do apologise, it must be a lot. You’re the most stable guest I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, if that makes you feel any better.”

He’s apologising again? You almost feel an ounce of guilt for snapping at him. His eyes glimmer, peering into yours and you can’t help but feel a little bad. Perhaps, he was forced to play this twisted game of leading all those who appear here to what appears to be at most certain doom at the hands of the King of Hearts.

You dryly murmur, “Not really, but I appreciate the effort.” Soobin smiles, “So should we get moving?”

You deadpan, “Towards my death? Absolutely not. I’m awfully boring, you know.” Soobin folds his arms, peering at you, “You seem pretty entertaining now, lovely.” He was so damn pretty you might have almost believed him.

Snorting, you respond, “No, no. I doubt I’d take the King’s interest more than two minutes and oops! Off I go! Getting shot or hanged! Or whatever deranged punishment this world has.”

Soobin corrects you, “He prefers the guillotine, something about how satisfying a clean chop is.” You feel nauseous, “How? How is that meant to make me follow you?” Soobin mumbles, “I do suppose that is rather grotesque.”

You yell, “It’s more than grotesque! It’s fucking absurd! Slaughtering the pitiful souls like myself who have the unfortunate plight of stumbling into this place only to be executed because what? Because your ruler was fucking bored?”

A silence resounds loudly between the two of you as he gazes at you with mixed emotions painting his face. “We should really get going.” Your shoulders droop into a slouch, “Even after all that, you’re more concerned with your fucking schedule?”

A bitter laugh your lips, as you place a hand on your forehead, “God, I’m doomed here. With a guide who has no empathy.”

“I-I do, it’s just- the rules,” Soobin mumbles. You yelp, “Break them! Don’t you feel guilty at all, leading so many souls to their demise?” Your voice holds conviction and an impassioned tone that seems to stir something within Soobin.

“How can you be so complicit?” Your brows furrow, “Don’t you feel even an ounce of guilt? Of remorse, knowing what you’re leading them too? Do you even tell them where you’re taking them? That’s even more morbid!”

Soobin stands there hands behind his back, clasped together. His thoughts in a whirlwind mess; perhaps he shouldn’t have rambled. He never really did know how to contain his thoughts.

“You never know? You could be different? The King may come to like you?” He attempts to soothe your panicked rage. “If I’m not? How many people have you said that line to?” You shakily breathe out.

Silence is what you receive and you peer away wrapping your arms around yourself. Typical. Not one good justification.

Sweat drips down Soobin’s brow. He’d be late. He’d be late. His foot taps against the cobblestone and his heart races, fingers twitching and palms clammy. He’d be late. He had a schedule. His eyes almost seem manic. Guests weren’t usually this aware, this obstinate or stubborn.

Why did your silly words make so much sense in this nonsensical world? He was just doing his job right? He had to. That was his role. Ever since time was killed, he had struggled to keep up any time at all! It was so stressful and now that you were here, it would add to his insurmountable stress of getting you to the King on time before anyone else caught wind of your presence.

You observe Soobin, he seemed panicky. Nervous, anxious and overwhelmed. His pupils had shrunk and a manic expression on his face making you feel uneasy. “Soobin?”

“W-We really should keep m-moving?” He almost asks, as though it’s a question instead of a statement. You glare, “It’s like talking to a wall.” He stammers, “Lovely, I-I- I understand. I- I do.”

“You don’t. Don’t you want to break this cycle? I can see it. You don’t enjoy this. You don’t enjoy this pressure of whatever it is you do,” you plead. A sudden laugh escapes his lips, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just nervous. I laugh when I’m nervous.” Another chortle escapes his lips.

“You don’t need to apologise for everything.” You murmur awkwardly; perhaps he wasn’t as sane as he appears. He lets out another giggle, “L-Lets move, I don’t like standing around. Standing around means doing nothing. Doing n-nothing means no productivity. How c-can anything get done?”

An awful sense of dread fills you and you peer behind you, everything looks the same. You knew without Soobin, navigating Wonderland would be perilous and frankly for naught. Perhaps, you needed to take your chances with the King. Or…you could find a perfect chance to escape as you journey further. Yes, yes, just be patient and pretend to go along with it.

Sighing, you murmur, “Keep walking then, I guess.” A defeated expression coats your face and you see a glimmer of sadness in his eyes and he takes your hand with a subtle pout, “Please don’t be sad, it pain me so to see your pretty face stained by sadness.” You mumble, “Pretty hard to look on the bright side with no way home.”

You both begin walking and he mumbles, “Lovely I, I know.” You say nothing and after awhile, the scenery morphs and you sigh seeing the dancing flowers with their waving leaves. He looks at you expectantly as if he wanted to see you be awed or amused only to be met with your lacklustre reaction. How odd, most guests he guided loved this part!

Soobin stops facing you and tilts your head up by the chin, “Lovely, are these flowers not to your liking? Look at them dancing! Their smiles!” You frown, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He questions. He laughs, a short manic laugh. “You don’t know. That’s okay. It’s okay not to know,” he reassures with an unsure expression. He tugs you along.

You almost feel bad for the guy. A ticking time bomb you could almost see. He must be under enormous pressure, especially with a ruler like…the King of Hearts. You could sense it, he had an ounce of goodness in there, a little sense of remorse, of guilt.

“Don’t you…don’t you want to spend some time for yourself? Are you ever free?” You ask. The question makes him freeze and he bursts out laughing startling you.

“Time…for myself? Time for myself? For me? How amusing! My lovely, is that what you asked?” You blink at him blankly, “Uh…yes? Doesn’t everyone deserve time off?”

A shattered expression appears on his face and he smiles almost brokenly, “Ah, perhaps in your world but the time keeper never sleeps. Never…dilly dallies.”

Your heart aches; you wonder what this man goes through on a daily basis to behave like this. Then again, being in this place would make anyone go insane.

He releases another frantic laugh, and abruptly cover his mouth, “I- sorr- I mean. You’re not like the other guests. It’s rather strange, how funny! I thought nothing could surprise me anymore in Wonderland. Yet, here you are.”

You raise a brow, “Uh…you mean showing basic empathy?” A manic smile appears on his visage, “Not one of my guests ever cared like you have. They usually just run off and get lost and died in some grave manner or they follow along and become the King’s, I don’t ever,” he giggles quietly, “don’t ever really hear from them again.”

You frown, “Oh Soobin.” He murmurs, “C-Can we move? We should move.” You hum, “Oh right, you don’t like standing around.”

His eyes glimmer as you both walk again, “You’re so…nice. You haven’t run away despite hearing all of this. Have you been here before? Or, or, have you already succumbed to the madness here?”

You sink into your own mind, why haven’t you run off? Maybe because you knew your own rationale and logic wouldn’t do shit here. Glancing back at Soobin, the way his large hand envelopes yours, your heart flutters and aches, you…kinda felt bad. You didn’t want to leave him alone. He gives you a soft, wavering smile, his eyes guilt-ridden.

“Soobin, I-“ your voice cracks. The air between you two becoming heavy. He shakes his head, “That’s preposterous…” he frowns, “That’s impossible. Then…why are you still with me?”

Truthfully, you answer, “I don’t know, Soobin. I just feel inclined to stay, I guess. Not like I could ever navigate this place alone anyway.” Your eyes lock for a moment, a torrent of emotions wash over Soobin and he abruptly peers away. In silence, you both walk along the path. An aura of panic and regret emanates off Soobin.

After a few minutes, you spot a large meadow full of pearlescent flowers, utterly gorgeous, glistening under the sun. In awe, you point at the meadow, “Those are so stunning, Soobin. I-“

Soobin murmurs, “Moon Lillies, beautiful aren’t they?” He peers at your wide-eyed excitement. His heart aches, you were different from the others who has the misfortune to arrive here in Wonderland.

Seeds of doubt had been implanted into his mind from your impassioned speech and thoughts. Did he really have to lead you down this path to your doom? Into Yeonjun’s grasp? Could…could this time be different?

Timidly, Soobin asks, “Why don’t we go take a look?” The very notion of taking a minor detour had his hands clamming up and heart palpitating fast. Time, time, time. He had work to do. He couldn’t dilly dally.

You squeal grasping his hand in gratitude, “Oh thank you! Yes, yes!” But how could he deny your endearing expression of exhilaration and joy? Maybe just a little detour wouldn’t be an issue, then the both of you would go right back onto the path. Yes, precisely.

Momentarily, your eyes widen in surprise as he in turn envelopes his large gloved hand over yours leading you towards the thousands of flowers. You can’t help but admire the way he walks, his strong, secure hold on your hand. His angelic features, the ever so subtle crease between his brows as though he was always deep in thought.

You had a feeling this wasn’t exactly part of the plan and would only delay the inevitable. Though, you were unsure why someone as obsessed with schedules and time would take this detour merely because you fawned over these flowers.

Did your words get to him? You feel his grasp on your hand tighten and you finally reach the sea of flowers. Oh, how ethereal this place was, a stark contrast to the wacky surroundings, this place also had its moments of beauty apparently?

“Soobin, these are beautiful, I can’t believe these exist.” You fawn in excitement releasing his hand as you run through the flowers, feeling free and almost magical in a sense. Soobin observes you as you wade and spin carefree through the flowers with a soft smile trying his best to ignore his twitching fingers and shaky hands.

“Only in Wonderland,” he muses, watching you prance around with an almost childlike innocence. Something stirs within him, the urge, no, the need to protect you from the horrors deeper located in this place. From the Red King of Hearts, the Cheshire Cat, and god forbid the Hatter. No. No he couldn’t let another soul become destroyed here.

You were right. Time for himself, to indulge in such a luxury…such as now. Felt revitalising, thrilling. Soobin peers at his shaking hands. Time. Time. Would he make it on time? No, why, why did he have to make it on time? Time was killed. But, why? Why did he have to follow this terrible cycle? Because he was afraid?

A short strangled laugh escapes his lips before morphing into a manic cackle startling you. “S-Soobin?” His bizarre gaze meets yours, “Yes, yes lovely, you’re right. Time for myself. I have a choice. I…I don’t have to go through with this. Not when…not with you, lovely.”

You murmur, “Are…you okay?” He lets out a laugh, “Yes, yes, I’m just not-” a giggle slips out to which he covers his mouth, “Yes, just not used to so much free time…such indulgence.” You frown peering down at his viciously shaking hands. What had this place done to this poor man? He seemed so panicky and anxious?

You tentatively approach him and take his hands in yours, peering up at him with an awkward but comforting smile, “Breathe. Breathe with me, Soobin. Look around you, how could you not stop to ever take in the sights?” You had learnt some breathing exercises when you were younger whenever you felt overwhelmed. It should help right?

“Sights…never had time,” he murmurs deliriously peering around at the flowers surrounding you two. The glistening pollen coating your skin in a pearlescent sheen. Soobin gazes down at you with a shaky breath; your big eyes peering up through your lashes, your lips moving, telling him to breathe with such a soft voice. Your hands, petite in comparison to his. How he wished to feel your velvet skin against his, ungloved.

Another strangled laugh, “Sorry, sorry. I’m just a little panicked is all.” You’re a bit taken aback as he grips your hands back tightly. Okay, perhaps he wasn’t entirely sane, but certainly quirky. His pupils were blown out and shaky breaths tumble from his luscious lips.

“Relax, Soobin. It’s okay. Nothing will happen. Uh…you don’t even need to worry, something about time getting killed right? It’s all in your head,” you reassure. Soobin gives you a smile (perhaps a little too wide, but he was cute regardless).

“Yes…yes. Time is…dead. No matter how much I hurry, I am bound to be late. No doubt about that now that we are here in this meadow,” he shakily hums. “Yes, yes, yes,” he deliriously hums, almost delighted by the bizarre revelation you’ve provided him.

Oh, how kind you were, knocking some sense into him! He was going to be late anyway, why not spend some time with you…his new favourite guest? His….lovely. Why did the King have to always ruin things? Why couldn’t the White Rabbit indulge in himself for a while? Yes, yes, he could, couldn’t he? It’s not so absurd of thought is it?

Soobin gazes at you as you wait expectantly. Oh how adorable you were! You yelp as he suddenly draws you into a tight hug. His large frame envelopes yours; the body heat of his seeping onto your frame; you murmur awkwardly returning the hug, “Ah, thank…you? May I ask why-“

Soobin releases you with a glimmer in his eyes, “You’re too good for this world. I’d hate to see anything happen to you. I…I feel as though you do not deserve your tragic fate. You have touched me unlike any other guest I’ve led.” He leans down and your breath hitches as he gives you a sweet smile, “The others, they cannot know of you. They’ll only know if I bring you to the palace right?” A wavering laugh escapes him once more.

You gulp, he was getting rather attached rather quickly. Huh, maybe this really was your ticket out of here. Your peer up at him again, he was…rather cute. He had this now hyper quality to him, which you attributed to breaking through his usual exterior and facade. Soobin murmurs, "Look over there.” He spins you with your shoulders and points over to the distance and you spot shimmering reflections and upon closer inspection, jewels hanging off the trees? No…not quite.

His breath brushes against your neck as he murmurs, “Diamond apples.” You splutter, “What, apples?”

“Diamond, they’re even prettier close up, I’ve heard. Though I’ve not see them,” another giggle, “But now, now let’s go. We’ll run out of time otherwise.” You stammer, “Didn’t you just say there wasn’t enough-“

He tugs you behind him as he strides quickly towards the diamond apple orchard using what seems to be a large glistening lake as a placeholder for direction. “Hey- let’s not get hasty-“ you breathlessly pant trying to make your legs keep up with him.

Soobin cackles peering back at you, “Come on, lovely,” his eyes wide and smile large, “Come on, don’t you want to have fun?” The sentence almost gives you whiplash, was this the same dude you had initially stumbled upon? Were you the one going insane? Surely not. No, he was. You weren’t.

Oddly enough, it settled your heart at ease to see him finally being carefree (albeit at your expense), well, not like you had anything to do. You chuckle as he trips over his own foot and he smiles bashfully. Oh damn him…and his charm!

Now that you mention it, his golden hair that bounced with the breeze underneath his hat, looked so utterly soft. You wonder how it would feel if you… No, keep it together y/n! He takes your other hand and spins you around and you squeal, feeling the wind whip through your hair and you let out a laugh. “Now who’s the serious one?”

“Hypocrite,” you murmur panting. He grins, a small pinkish hue coating his cheeks, “Oh lovely, I know…but I cannot explain how enlightened you’ve made me feel. You must care so much for me.”

You give him a bashful smile. You suppose you could say that…more so basic empathy but you weren’t one to ruin people’s delusions. This was probably his first break that he’s ever had. Huh, how odd…

You lock eyes as he looks at you, a gaze holding such adoration. Perhaps a little too much to be comfortable. He murmurs, snapping himself out of it, “C-Come on, we’re almost there.” Another tug and you yelp, laughing as he pulls you along, “Hold on-!”

The breeze wafts through your locks as you both run through the meadow and you can’t help but grin like an idiot. Both of your clothes stained with the pearlescent pollen giving your skin a shimmering hue akin to the reflection of the moon on open water. The sweet smell becoming ever so slightly disorienting.

Soon enough, you see the sparkling water of the massive lake, glittering under the comically large sun. Beside the lake is indeed an orchard and beautifully hung diamond apples. They really did look like diamonds carved into the shape of apples with their jagged and sculpted edges. Stunning, truly.

In amazement, you walk up to one of the trees, your hands trailing over the rough bark and peering up at the apples glimmering and glittering under the sun, “They’re gorgeous, wow…” “Aren’t they just?” He fawns.

Reaching up, he picks one handing it to you. It feels a little cold to the touch but you admire it as you ask, “Does it just grow like this? Is it edible? I don’t even know how this possible.”

Soobin takes in the cute expression you make as your curiosity overwhelms you, “Yes, it does grow this way naturally, and no, it’s not edible, well,” he lets out a chuckle, “Unless you want to lose your teeth that is.”

You raise a brow, “Uh, speaking from experience or…?” He gives you a wide grin, pointing at his pearly intact teeth, “No not me, lovely. I saw another do the same foolishly, all his teeth broke.” You grimace, “Right, of course.”

He peers at you, “Anything can grow here in Wonderland. Nothing’s impossible here, well, apart from eating this.” You snort, shaking your head, “I suppose so.”

You peer back up at into the foliage and canopy of the apple tree and a particularly large one catches your eye, on a slightly higher branch. It has little crystal blossoms too, oh, how incredibly pretty!

Soobin’s gaze seems to align with yours and he hums, “Do you want it, lovely? I can pick it for you?” Your brows furrow, “You may be rather ridiculously tall, but I damn well know that’s even high for you.” He peers down at you for a moment, the gears in his head turning. He lets out a laugh and his arms outstretch, “Then, we’ll join our heights. I’ll help you up.”

Stammering you halt his hands, “It’s alright-“ He tilts his head in confusion at your hesitance and you almost melt at the instinctual pout forming on his lips. Does he even realise how cute he looks at the moment? Ah…shit. Fine.

Mumbling, you reply, “Okay, uh, alright then. Pick me up- sorry if I’m too hea-“ You squeal as his hands grip your waist hoisting you up and a chaotic giggle escapes your lips as your hands steady yourself on a branch. You hear him snickering, “I believe my arms will get sore soon, lovely. I’d hate to drop such a pretty thing due to my own incapacity.”

A warmth bursts through your cheeks at his words. Clearing your throat, you stretch your arm up, twisting the apple and plucking it with the blossoms attached to its stem. Wow, it’s even prettier close up. “You can put me down,” you suggest. You yelp as you slip in his arms and your find your back pressed against his chest and arms securely wrapped around you. The smooth timbre of his voice resounds in your ear, “My apologies, my gloves do make it hard to hold onto you for very along. Are you hurt?”

Flustered, you turn around, “N-No.” Well, maybe your heart was in tatters at this point, but other than that, no. He peers at you, your gazes locking once more. He murmurs quietly, “Oh, you get cuter by the minute.”

You scoff setting some distance between the two of you, “I- oh hush.” Soobin smiles, “It’s true? Why must you be so reluctant to accept a compliment?” You huff, “Well, you’re handsome, saying that to me is just- of course I’ll be flustered!”

You observe a familiar tinge of pink dusting his cheeks and you smirk, “Ha! There! You know how I feel now.” Clearing his throat, “L-Lets get a move on,” he grasps your hand tugging you along.

“S-Soobin where are we going?” You yelp stumbling behind him. Damn him and his long legs. “I-I don’t know. But we’ve stayed here too long.” A hint of anxiety permeates his gaze and his fingers tighten around your hand.

You look up at the sky and notice the sun hasn’t changed position. Huh, time was truly dead here. You wonder how much time has passed back in your world. Seconds? Minutes? Days? Years? You shudder not wanting to give yourself an existential crisis.

You halt your feet seeing the shore of the lake, “Soobin, let’s sit by the lake.” He freezes looking at you over his shoulder, “Is…Is that okay?” Now he truly was as timid as a rabbit, goodness he was super hyper awhile back? “Uh…why wouldn’t it be?” You question confused.

“I just…nothing bad will happen right?” He shakily murmurs, “I-I have never done this. Gone off the…the path like this,” another panicked laugh escapes him, “It’s- It’s oddly thrilling, but I’m terrified at the same time. What…what if the King finds out?”

Soobin’s eyes shake as you both walk, “My…My head…” His voice wavers and you frown, “He can only know if you bring me to him right?”

He mutters, “Yes, yes. Right? It works that way right? There’s no way he can know. I always bring the guests to him. That’s just the way it is.” He peers back at you with uneasy smile, “As long as you remain with me, he…he’ll never know.”

The words strike a chord within you, making you feel ever so slightly anxious and at unease. The King seemed to be a terrifying person. You shiver, there was no way you could go to him! Soobin was your best bet for now!

You murmur reassuringly, squeezing his hand, “Hey, hey,” you smile softly, “Breathe.” The poor blonde haired man looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. He smiles shakily, “Yes…yes, breathe, thank you, lovely.”

With a swift tug, you’re both walking towards the shore of the lake. The water laps against the sediment and you have the urge to dip your feet into the refreshing water. Hurriedly, you remove your shoes and settle down by the shore dipping your toes into the immensely cooling water.

“Ah…” you sigh, it felt good after all that walking and running. You look up at him with your hand outstretched, “Come on Soobin, lighten up. Have you tried this before?”

He observes you almost as if you were the insane one here. How ironic! Tentatively, he sits down beside you and grimaces at the feeling of the dirt against his fine fabric. For you, he thinks, he’s willing to try. His heart races with anticipation. He likes this. With you, he felt as though time itself had stopped for you both (well, it already had but that’s besides the point.)

You look over to meet his gaze and you’re once again struck by his beautiful features. He removes his top hat putting is aside and your eyes widen ever so slightly at his fluffy blonde hair. Oh…to run your fingers through it.

Embarrassed at such a thought, you redirect your gaze back to the lapping waters and glistening surface of the lake. You feel his gaze on you, you find your hands fidgeting awkwardly. In an odd and twisted sense…this almost felt like a date.

You almost might have keeled over if this happened in real life, well, this was real life but…also not. You peer back over at Soobin, you’d never met someone like him before. Well, he was clingy you suppose in his own endearing way, and clearly had some issues to resolve, but doesn’t everyone?

“You’re…” he begins before looking away, a blush appearing on his cheeks. “I’m…?” You answer. “No, it’s just…” he mumbles, “…you’re so different. So…pure-hearted. Most just go against with the antics here and I…I have no choice but to lead them to the King of Hearts. But-but you…” With a bashful hum, you shrug, “No, no, you’re making me sound as though I changed your entire life. I just…I believe you needed some time off.”

In hesitation, you bite your lower lip, “I also… truthfully, I didn’t want you to take me to the King. So…I thought I could persuade you, you know? To not do that? By…taking a detour?” You wanted to be transparent, perhaps that would be a mistake, maybe he would tug you right back up and back onto the cobblestone path.

Soobin lets out a laugh, “Oh lovely, I’m aware. But who am I to stop you when we’re this far off? In fact you have enlightened me so, to the idea of going off the path, both figuratively and literally.” You let a breathy laugh, “You’re…not going to take me back to the path then?”

He muses slightly shakily, “No one has come for us, so far. This peace, I have never felt before. It’s…It’s addicting.”

His gaze pierces through you, “You’re addicting, lovely. You make me feel at ease. As though I am not slacking off, but spending meaningful time.” Okay, perhaps, he was very clingy, but you’d let it fly only because the way he looked at you made your heart perform a gymnastics routine within your ribcage and leaves you oddly breathless.

The cool water laps at your feet and you close your eyes feeling the soft breeze. A comfortable silence overlooks the two of you, sat side by side. Soobin peers at your hand on the ground and inches his fingers forward ever so slightly. You don’t let this go unnoticed as you try to keep from smiling like an idiot.

All this time, he had no problem grabbing your hand and pulling you along, but now, he was hesitating? You inch your fingers closer to his and his hand halts in surprise before you give him a small, shy smile. Your fingers intertwine over each other, enjoying the solace together. How odd, that a place as bizarre as Wonderland could be so…tranquil?

“For once I am glad that time is no longer a thing, for once, I am glad that I am destined to be late, so that I could have fortuitous opportunity to meet you,” he speaks. Your heart flutters and you murmur, “You certainly have a way with words.”

“I speak the truth, lovely, do I not?” He questions. A moment of quiet passes and he flushes as you scoot closer to him. The curve of his ears turning a subtle hue of red. “It’s…nice like this, to relax. Not have anything to worry about.”

It was a stark contrast to your busy life. Most of it spent working and socialising (much to your disinclination), it was draining. But here, you felt so…free. Unbound. Lightweight even, as though a speck of dust flowing in a beam of sunlight.

“…Do you also work…hard? What is the world you come from like? Your world must have time, it has been years since we have followed a clock. I’m the only one who does,” he brings out a golden pocket watch. It ticks and the gears churn but the hour and minute hand seem to move back and forth. How on earth does he even use that thing?

“Ah, well, yes, I do have a job. It…takes up majority of my time, unfortunately. It’s,” you breathe shakily, “It’s rough, but gotta get paid, you know?”

“Paid? You get money?” He questions and you gawk absurdly, “You…don’t?” He murmurs, “…No? It is merely my duty, as the White Rabbit, the Timekeeper,” he answers nonchalantly.

Well, you do suppose, living in this world, you’d be so insane, that money would the last of your worries. Nothing made sense here. You snort, “Right, of course. Normal rules don’t apply here, I forgot.”

Soobin inquires softly; his eyes glistening with curiosity, “Could…you tell me about your world? Your life? What’s it like?” He was so interested in you, it made your heart feel so utterly warm.

His fingers tighten their grasp atop yours, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. Soobin regards you expectantly and you begin to describe your terribly mundane life. As you do so, he pays you much attention, you don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your lips and back up to meet your gaze.

You don’t miss the way he shifts ever so slightly closer. How enamoured he seems to be with you, and oddly, how you relish in this attention, something you’ve never experienced before. “Your voice…I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, not taking his eyes off you.

You hum, “I could say the same, your voice is nice to hear too.” It had a husk to it, but soft edge at the same time. “You, like my voice, lovely?” He quirks up at your words, eyes flickering with delight. His lips twitch in excitement.

Lovely. Oh goodness…the way he called you that, since you arrived. It just scratched your brain in all the right places. Fuck, were you becoming just as delusional? At this rate you were going to fall in love with a man you had just met!

You look back at Soobin who observes you as you have a mental debate with yourself. You can’t help but let your eyes flicker down to his utterly kissable lips. Oh, how unfair was life.

“Yes, I do…” you finally breathe out. He murmurs, a slight rasp to his voice; the tension in the air palpable, almost sweet to the taste, “Is there anything else you like?”

You hum, “About you?”

“About me,” he confirms. Since when did you get this close to him? Or did he get close to you? Your shoulders were touching, so were your thighs. Oh fuck, what was happening?

Shakily, you respond, “About…you, your hair. Your eyes…” He nods slowly his gaze travelling down from your hair, to your eyes down your face to your lips. Breathless, you resume, “Your…lips.”

Your faces were so close now, inches apart. Breaths mingling, noses brushing against each other. Oh how tempting, was this some sort of test? An illusion? You didn’t know, but something about this moment alone, made him ever so utterly irresistible.

“My…lips?” He breathes, and you nod. “I like yours too,” he breathlessly murmurs. With that, your hand cups his cheek and you lean forward pressing your lips to his. Ah well, fuck it, you’re in this deep and you doubt you could find your own way out, might as well do what you’d never normally do in the normal world, right?

Never knew, you had the capability to ensnare the White Rabbit of Wonderland. Choi Soobin. How odd indeed! Oh but the sweetness of his lips against yours was just too good, too sweet, too addictive.

Soobin’s other hand slides around your waist tugging you closer, his back hunches leaning over and tilting his head slightly giving you better access as your lips move against each other, tongues ever so slightly brushing against each other but not quite enough.

He speaks against your lips, “You’re irresistible.” You smile against his lips, “I could,” he kisses back fervently, “say, the same, ah” you breathe out pleasurably. His lips felt so soft.

Soobin felt as though he was indeed in heaven, kissing you felt more like a dream. An escape from his unshackled yet bound duties. An escape from his never ending time. Oh…how could he possibly let you go? He didn’t want you to leave, if you did…he-he’d have to wait for another guest (who would be nowhere near as perfect as you!) or in the meanwhile resume his duties for the King!

When he got this sweet taste of temptation, how could he ever go back to the way things were? Oh, no, no, no…

You release a muffled yelp of surprise as he leans forward caging your frame between his arm on the ground, his fingers still intertwined with yours and the other around your waist, as he kisses more passionately, desperately even. A groan escapes his lips; he was kissing you like a starved man, a man who was desperate. It had you feeling all sorts of ways, made your body buzz with anticipation and nervous excitement.

He breathes out, “Mm, I could spend all my time doing this,” and you let out a chuckle, “Ah, that’s quite the…suggestion there. I thought you didn’t like waiting around.” He pecks your lips, trailing the bridge of his nose along your jaw to your neck, “I don’t… but for some reason…now I don’t care, lovely.”

Both of you part, his forehead rests upon yours. This moment felt as though you were apart of a fairytale. You didn’t want it to end. He cups your face, “I find myself rather fond of you,” he smiles a little too widely, “Really fond of you.”

You shakily murmur, “I…I can tell.” Soobin murmurs, “How I wish, you could stay in Wonderland with me, there are so many more places to see. To show you. So much more we can do,” he murmurs. He parts from you keeping a hand cupped around your cheek. “Must you really return back home?” His brows furrow, “Must you really try to find the exit?”

Woah now, oh right! You were trying to get back home. That completely slipped your mind. Huh. You mumble, “Oh…right. Yeah, I- I probably should.”

Soobin pleads, “Oh lovely, but you bring me such solace and peace. Can’t you stay? We can hide away here, away from the rest? Didn’t you say you liked it here with no responsibilities and no burdens?” Oh dear, he is awfully persistent. You give him a small smile, “Soobin…you know I can’t.”

“Even…even after we kissed? Won’t you miss me?” His hands tremble and the familiar expression of panic coats his features, “H-H-How will I return back to my duties? W-What if I go insane like the Hatter? Once you leave…there’s no way you c-can even visit-“

“Hold on now, Soobin- lets calm down-“ you stammer awkwardly. You really needed him to guide you to the exit, he clearly knows where it is, if he’s speaking like this. However the trembling waver in his voice and pleading gaze twist and churn your heart in a painful manner. For some reason you felt almost a touch of guilt.

Perhaps it was the momentary euphoria, the blissful nature of everything that caused you two to bond so well, to become so…intimate, romantic even.

Did he fall for you already? Surely not, perhaps he’s just clinging onto the ideals you imparted, the way you make him feel at ease, not you, yourself. Right? Oh, but the way he’s looking at you tells you the very opposite. He wishes for your very being. You shift awkwardly peering away, “Soobin…I-“

He lets out a frantic laugh before covering his mouth, “It’s fine,” another manic laugh. “Really, I-I- understand. I…what was I thinking? That you’d wanted to stay. Wonderland is…a horrid place under this…this… whimsical facade.” He seems to be desperately muttering to himself trying his best to organise his chaotic thoughts.

“No, no, no, I can’t let the others lay their hands on you, you do not deserve such cruelty. If…If I can’t have you…then they certainly cannot.” Your heart drops to your stomach, well, that was certainly ominous. Surely, he wouldn’t be this possessive, right?

With more delirious murmuring, he abruptly stands placing his top hat back on and outstretches his hand to help you up. You peer at his cautiously, “W-Where are we going, Soobin?”

A pained look crosses his eyes, “The exit. You…you do not wish to…be here. And I do not wish to take you to the king. We are already off schedule, the path. I don’t want their f-filthy hands on you.”

You carefully take his hands and he pulls you into a hug. Your heart races; he was acting rather strange. “Come, come, chop, chop, let’s go. Time’s ticking.” Your eyes widen in as he tugs you along once more with determination. “Uh- are you sure, I mean- are you really just letting me go? I don’t know about this- Soobin- Soobin? Are you listening?” You call out.

An aura of paranoia surrounds him. Did the King already know? There’s no way. Well…there’s no way to tell if he did already know. If he did, then there would already be troops out on the hunt. He was the only one in Wonderland who knew when guests arrived. Right?

As much as it hurt him to do so, he knew he could only hide you for so long before suspicions would arise with the others. You wouldn’t last a day with the others. No, no, no. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to let you go.

Perhaps, perhaps he could find a way to visit your world instead. He’s always had been a little different from the rest of the mad bunch. He wasn’t insane, right? No, he was the normal one. He was always the normal one. That’s why you got along so well with him, well, that’s what he thinks anyway. There he was preoccupied with his thoughts again.

Yes, yes, he could attempt to visit your world. You must have had that invite with you, he could work with that. Somehow. Then you could be his safe little secret. Maybe…he could escape this hellhole for good? He would never have to serve the Hatter or King of Hearts ever again? A delusional laugh escapes Soobin’s lips as he strides along. Yes, yes, yes!

You observe him with a concerned expression, whatever internal battle he was having with himself didn’t seem to bode well for you. You wonder what he’s thinking of as he grins to himself.

As you walk along some foliage, a sudden checkered path appears and there’s a large hole in the ground, quite literally like a rabbit burrow. He stammers, “This…this is a short cut to the other side of Wonderland. It’s a bit dark but how I often move around.” You peer at the embroidered white rabbit ears on his hat. You deadpan, “…how fitting.”

“You’re not claustrophobic are you?” He asks shakily. “Uh…” you hesitate peering down into the dark hole, “Depends how narrow it can get.” “It’s okay, I’m with you,” he reassures. You grimace, “Wouldn’t that make it even more cramped?” His eyes widen, “But, but, I need to get you to the exit! I need to!”

You peer at him surprised, “Weren’t you opposed to all that before-“ Soobin clasps both your hand with a pleading gaze, “Come on, lovely, trust me. Trust me. I want you to be safe. I’m not insane like the others, I want to protect you from them.”

From who? The king? The others? Protect? Your head spins, fucking hell, there’s too much happening.

All of a sudden, the both of you are startled with a trumpet blowing and the heavy sound of armoured footsteps. You yelp clinging onto Soobin’s arm, “What the fuck is that?!” There’s no response, you look up to see how pale he’s become, “S-Soobin? Soobin? Hello? Hey!”

His lips twitch into a shaky smile, “Oh. Ah, they’ve found us. How…convenient. I thought no one else knew about you.” What the fuck was going on? Who? Your eyes widen as you tug his arm towards the hole, “Come on! Ah, I’m not claustrophobic all of a sudden! Let’s get moving!”

“It’s too late,” he sighs. You snap pulling at his arm, “The fuck you mean it’s too late?! Come on, move your feet!” He seems to be glued to his spot with fear in his eyes.

You panic as you see several armoured guards. A few holding a banners with ominous red hearts and tassles. Many hold heart shaped spears and stand in formation. A few aim heart shaped arrows at the two of you. You freeze, you were well and truly fucked. No wonder he wasn’t moving.

“Is..Is this the-“ you begin with trepidation. “The Red King of Heart’s troops, yes. Yes they are, lovely,” he answers weakly. One of the knights steps out and bellows, “The White Rabbit has been charged with treason and the dearest guest of Wonderland has been charged as an accomplice!”

You gawk enraged, accomplice? Treason! You snap, “What? We did nothing! You mean having fun is against the rules here?”

The knight ignores your protests and continues, “I hereby come on orders of the King to escort our guest as per usual ordinance since you have failed to do so White Rabbit.”

You look at Soobin who seems to remain silent gripping your hand like a vice. The knight’s eyes snap to yours, “Dearest guest, upon your arrival to the palace, you will be greeted hospitably by our ruler and also face minor punishment for your hand in deviating our timekeeper.”

You snarl, “You were watching!?” The troops flinch at your words and Soobin sighs, “It’s over, lovely. I knew I shouldn’t have deviated. I…I knew this was too good to be true. To indulge myself or to keep you safe. The moment you set foot here, there is only one path to take. After all, time is stuck here.”

You blink at him, anger rolling through you in waves, “Stop all this nonsense! Soobin! This-“ You splutter helplessly; you didn’t even know what to say to that!

“Please come with us with no retaliation or we will be forced to take more harsh measures. That pertains more to you, our dear guest.” They begin marching towards the two of you. Fuck, if you ran into the burrow, they’d shoot all the arrows.

“C-Can we not negotiate?” You stammer however your pleas ring on deaf ears. You scream as they encroach closer and Soobin’s hand never leaves yours; a defeated expression on his face, “I’m sorry, lovely. For my foolishness has gotten us here. It appears that our time, is up.”

Your eyes begin watering, “No, Soobin, no-“ The knights lunge at Soobin and pry him away and you scream piercingly grabbing his arms attempting some semblance of defiance. No, no, they couldn’t take him away from you! Fuck! You couldn’t go to the King!

You cry out, “Give him back! Please, we’ll both go! He’ll take m-me to the palace, in- in- fact, you can escort us b-both there! Promise!” Soobin peers at you as he gets ruthlessly tugged away and finally your grip slips with a final tug, your fingers lose touch and you gasp out painfully, “Soobin!”

The knights haul him away and you spot tears running down his face and his lips form a smile, “It’s okay…cooperate with them. Please. Just cooperate with them, l-lovely.” He hisses as they pin his arms back behind him and he grunts as he writhes against their grasp. He knew what his fate would be.

Tears drip down his cheeks and you see him begin to laugh, making your heart jump to your throat in nausea. It was different laugh from what you previously heard, it was…worse. Maddening. Soobin cackles as tears run down his face, “Lovely, don’t be sad, don’t be sad, please, please, please.”

More and more maniacal laughter emits from him. You peer around at the knights who seem utterly unfazed by his insane outburst. You tremble frozen to your spot as you feel the knights grip your arms pulling them behind you. Soobin is dragged away laughing and crying simultaneously; it caused your heart to ache.

Your throat feels dry and your fingertips cold as ice, fear envelopes you. You were alone once more, in this…new version of hell. You shakily ask the knights who grip and shove you forward, “W-What’s going to happen to Soobin?”

“The White Rabbit has been charged with treason for going against the order of the King. Thus, his punishment will naturally be an execution through beheading,” the knight says nonchalantly. “He’s the timekeeper, you can’t just-“ you stammer shakily. He interrupts with a cruel laugh, “Dearest guest, anything can be replaced. Even you. There’s been many guests though you have been the most different. Now you too, will end up on the same path.”

You feel sick. No…this had to be a bluff. You hear the other knights release a twisted chuckle. “Our majesty has been rather eager to see you.”

Another knight hums amused, “I wonder if they’ll make it longer than the last one.” They all resounding laugh as your blood runs cold.

In a resounding cheer, they haul you along like a lifeless puppet, “In the name of the King of Hearts, march forward!”

Taglist: @naoristerling @staaaarykids @tremendousphantommiracle @lun4kazumii @lunathewritingcat @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @taehyhunnzly @20crowsinahoodie @baekberrie @syraphyina @fullbodyblankets @soohashits @f4iryfever @themochiverse @atiny-chocolate-chip @nothingwithoutgyu @ethystclove @hancafe @nap-of-a-starr @isa942572 @evn-09 @ninitorih @m3chigo @tenleeluvr

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

For a request:

Maybe a rescue fic with ghost, price, or soap? One where they rescue their non military fem s/o? I know you’ve written some already and they are so good but I EAT THEM UP EVERY TIME and love that trope so much!!!!!!

Hurt/comfort is my drug I swear

I know that’s pretty vague so maybe I’ll think of more eventually but that’s what I’ve got for now.

I love your writing!

- 🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️

None Lacking Sins

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

Synopsis: It started with the incident at the grocery store and then built to the hidden gun in the nightstand and a quick, frantic, call to your boyfriend.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: Implied stalking, violence & blood, angst, protective Soap, suggestive language and conversations, implications of wanting a kid, vulgar language, fluffy banter, hurt/comfort, canon typical actions, edited in the middle of the night

A/N: I've been in a Soap mood lately, tbh. I think I'm going to flip-flop uploads for my Gaz series and Requests too...anyways. Enjoy, anon! You can never go wrong with a rescue fic!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*  

You called him for the first time when you were at the store, picking out dinner and asking what he wanted for a welcome home meal.

“Well,” his sly voice made you roll your eyes, but a smile still blossomed over your lips. “If you want me to be rash, Bonnie, I’d say that I wouldn't mind a good bite out of your–”

“Johnny, you finish that sentence, you’re not going to get anything besides butter on toast. Give me a recipe before it gets dark out.” Veiled glee was obvious from your tone, and the heat on your face could all but be heard over the line. Two months apart had made you both eager to be in each other's presence. 

Picking up a box of pasta, you flip it over and check the price, sticking to your budget and tilting the phone parallel to your chin. A deep chuckle meets your ears, and your chest feels light as it pierces your lungs. 

Your boyfriend was off in Australia this deployment—he’d been complaining about the heat nonstop on those few and far between video calls the two of you shared. While it was a step-up to know where exactly Johnny was this go around, the prospect of his job still made you incredibly nervous. There was never a time you could remember when he came home without a new cut or scar; bruises were all but guaranteed. 

Sucking down a soothing breath, you place the pasta into your cart and fix the phone’s position. The Scot was coming home in a day or so, you wanted to make him feel at home again. Destress.

You’ll see him before you know it. There’s no need to worry.

“Bit snappy, then, eh? Oh, alright.” The man huffs good-heartedly, and you hear the springs of those thin barracks-bed mattresses as his large frame shifts. Johnny lets off a soft sigh before continuing. You listen intently, leaning onto the handlebar ahead of you. “What about a nice plate ‘O that one you always make—hell—the…the one with the Pollock and cabbage.”

You blink through a laugh, shaking your head and pushing yourself off to go find the needed ingredients. The dish wasn’t easy to make, in fact, it took a helluva lot of time, but you didn’t mind in the slightest when it came to cooking for Johnny. He deserved it. 

“Hey, now,” He teases, smirking to himself, “What’s so funny over there, Dearie? You makin’ fun of me?”

“I would never dream of it, oh great and wondrous, Mr. MacTavish!” You huff, fake serious, as you place a box of cookies into the cart and pass a few strangers who raise an eyebrow at your conversation. A man passes by with a blue cap on, and you swerve the cart to move around him while tossing back a frown. You soon continue on like nothing happened, pulling back the sense of security from the man over the line. “Do you want mashed potatoes with that as well? Wine?”

Johnny groans, “Hey, you’re the one that asked me!” 

Divulging into giggles, you make your way around the store and stock up, holding a light conversation about how he and the rest of the boys were doing. 

“Ghost told me to let you know he appreciated the book you lent him, said he’d get it back to ya as soon as he’s able.” The Scot comments, and a hum makes its way from you as you head to the self-checkout. 

“Well, that’s good. I said he would like it – the bastard’s so tight-lipped about what he enjoys it was hard to nail-down a genre.” A chortle sounds off when you gather the chilled pollock and scan it; the phone was held against your shoulder to your ear. “High Fantasy for the win, I guess.” 

“I should get the man to read ‘The Way of Kings’ next time—form a little book club, y’know? Get all the boys in on it like some old ladies.” It was adorable how cute Johnny sounded, like a kid on Christmas. “Stemin’ Jesus, could you picture that, Bonnie?”

“I’d pay to see you pitch that, Dear.” A cheeky tone leaks through. “Price would laugh straight into your face.” 

“Please, the old man doesn’t know how to laugh….He’d just puff cigar smoke in my face and tell me to fuck off.” 

“As I said—I’d pay to see it.” Your boyfriend grumbles under his breath as you place the paper bags into your cart, the contents heavy, and grab your receipt with quick fingers. “Gaz would definitely be in for it, though.”

“I don’t doubt that. Anything beats playing cards for weeks straight, aye?” Your hand can finally grip the phone once more, and you sigh contently as the strained position of your neck finally rights itself. 

You’re about to answer but slow your pace with a scrunched look of confusion as you exit. 

Passing through the front doors, you suddenly get a strange sensation in the back of your mind to turn around. The hairs along your arms stand up as a breeze passes the steadily chilling dark sky, but the way the shiver ran down your spine wasn’t due to cold. Lips thinning, you spare a glance over your shoulder and look along the brightly lit grocery store as its windows leave cascading rays of light over the sun-bleached concrete. The black asphalt of the parking lot is hard under your feet.

There are a handful of other patrons at the checkouts—mothers with children and others buying quick meals for dinner—but none are out of the ordinary. 

You huff and roll your shoulders.

Maybe the day’s just getting to me.

“Bonnie,” Johnny’s slightly concerned voice brings you blinking back, turning your head back to the sparsely lit parking lot and realizing you had stopped walking completely. Your hand was sweaty like you’d just run somewhere. Fixing your hold on the device, your boyfriend continues, “...Everything alright? You’ve gone all quiet over there.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you laugh dismissively, trudging forward to your car, “I just got the weirdest feeling right outside the grocery store.” 

The cart makes a loud rumbling sound as it goes over loose rocks and the bumpy texture of the asphalt, the metal rattling loudly so you have to strain your ears to hear Johnny’s next words. 

“What kind of feeling?” His drowned-out voice was so serious that it shocked you—you’d only ever heard him use a tone like this when he had briefly talked about nightmares that had woken him up in your shared bed. 

The Scot’s words were monotone, slow, and even if the sound of the cart’s wheels was raging all around you and making your skull rattle, you’d still swear you would identify that tone over a hurricane. It made your gut churn. 

“Really, it’s probably nothing,” you play off with a tense shrug he can’t see, coming to a stop at your car and reaching into your pocket for your keys. “I just got a chill.” 

Your eyes look around before you open the trunk, biting into your lip at the long shadows that the tall street lamps give off. Licking over your teeth, you bink dismissively and shake your head, unlocking the vehicle and huffing as you begin loading in your purchases. 

“Anyways,” you try to ignore the hard build of your spine or the way your eyes travel back to the brightly lit store. There wasn’t anyone out here but you and the dead forms of cars, trees off in the distance, and far-off lights of other buildings. You swallow and clear your throat. “I was thinking about getting us a dog.” 

“You’re not gettin’ out of this that—wait, did you say dog?” Across the world in a shitty bed, Johnny’s once concerned eyes widen, jaw going slack. “No way in Christ’s Hell, Dearie.”

“Oh, come on!” You groan, placing the second to last bag into the car and tuning your back to the street, throwing out your hand. “It doesn’t have to be a big dog—just one I can go on walks with and keep me company. I know you have a bad past with them, Love, but I just want someone to help not make the house so empty when you’re gone.” 

Your voice slides off near the end of the sentence, and you try not to sound so sullen. Johnny frowns as he stares into the far wall of the barracks over the heads of sleeping men, itching at the back of his neck. It was no secret that the Scot wasn’t particularly fond of canines—his encounters with them were almost never pleasant unless he knew the handler. 

But…

“I’ll think it over, eh, Bonnie?” He relents, sighing, and he thinks he hears snickers from a dark form in the distant corner. The Sergeant glares over at it and continues with a pang of internal guilt about how lonely you must feel most of the time. “Promise…but you’re more likely to get a cat dressed in a suit than a mangy mutt anytime soon.” 

You laugh at the attempt of a lighthearted joke, closing the trunk with a roll of your eyes. A breeze goes by and your arms erupt into shivers, clothes not enough to keep out the chill. 

“I’ll take it.” 

“Hm, you know,” Johnny smirks, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes and grunting out huskily, “there’s another way to make sure the house won’t be all quiet when I’m gone.”

“Keep it in your pants, MacTavish. You’re not even here yet.” Smiling through the heat of your cheeks, the skin of your cheeks glows; your body rolls with heat. “Save it for tomorrow.”

“What, am I gettin’ you all worked up over there?” He hums, and you grab your cart, pushing it into one of the specific areas where someone would grab it in the morning. “‘Cause I have no problem with waitin’, Dearie, all the more perfect when I get to be with ya.’”

“You wish, handsome.” Walking back to the slight rumbling of your car, you speak through tilted lips and completely miss the form walking up beside you. “I think that—”

“Excuse me?” 

Yelping, you nearly drop your phone to the floor as it slips out of your startled grip; heart jerking at the sudden intrusion into an intimate conversation. Swiftly turning around you spot the same man as before—the one with the blue cap that had passed by quite rudely in the store. His strong face looks sheepish.

Johnny quickly calls your name through the line, and you let off a reassurance before tilting the device down.

“Holy hell, man, give a girl a warning next time, yeah?” Chuckling weakly to push back tension and the twisting of your intestines, you notice the stranger’s tall frame is covered in a heavy jacket. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, actually,” He’s not outwardly alarming to look at, the man, with his loose body gestures and controlled tone. “Sorry, but I was just wondering if you could lend me a hand. I found a kitten under a van back there,” he points, and you look over to the far corner of the parking lot. Sure enough, there was a large van surrounded by two black cars. Your eyes narrow on the scene, already getting a prickly feeling. “Do you have any food that might bring it out? Or maybe you’d be willing to reach under and grab the little bastard?” 

The stranger laughs and continues with a jerking of his shoulders. You watch every movement with an upticking pulse, fingers tight over the phone as Johnny listens with growing worry. 

The Sergeant's dark eyebrows pull tight, and he stands like he could run out the door to you; jaw tight and muscles wound.

“Put me on speaker.” You decline silently. Better not to get a hotheaded and protective Scot involved when he was thousands of miles away.

“Sorry,” Clearing your throat, you take a step back, attempting a friendly smile. “I have to get home to my husband.” It wasn’t the first time you’d had to use the spouse card to get away from creeps, and it won't be the last. Worked better than just the boyfriend title, honestly. And there was something about this man’s eyes that didn’t sit right with you. “Work night and all, you understand?”

“He left yet?” Johnny asks, gruff as his accent gets stronger. “Else I’m callin’ the store and sending security out to you.” 

“It shouldn’t take a long time,” the man begs and you take another slow step back to the car door, pupils going tiny. Breaths shallow. “You’ll be back to your…husband, in a few minutes. I’d hate to leave the poor guy all alone.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, firmer. “No.” 

Not wasting any time, you open the car and jump inside, wrenching it closed once more and pressing the lock. Breathing heavily, you stick the keys into the ignition, missing a couple of times, and look into the side mirrors to spy on the tall shadow that hovers like a plague. 

“Sweetheart? Hey?” Johnny calls out your name as you force the car to start driving away, face tight and limbs shaking. “Hey, are you alright?” 

The man has half the sense to wake up Price, but with the stirring bodies around him, there’s half a chance the Captain already knows something’s off. Johnny hadn’t bothered to check his noise level when the uncomfortableness seeped from you over to him. What kind of a man approaches a woman near dark and asks a question like that? The action didn’t sit right with the Scot. 

Johnny’s body hums with energy—volatile rage keeps his heart in a tight fist with a deep seething hatred of not being with you to help force back the freaks in person. He wasn’t above getting into someone's face if the situation called for it; after a couple of outings to less-than-nice pubs, all it took was a few nervous glances from you nowadays for him to create a barrier out of his own flesh.

“I’m okay,” you whisper to him, biting at your lips and peeling back flesh. “It’s all good. I-I’m on the road already.” 

A great weight falls from the man in the form of a sigh. He slowly sits back down on the mattress, lips thinning and slightly shaking his head. His free hand comes up to rub over his cheek. 

“Good. That’s good…” He snaps out of his concerned stupor quickly, but the fast beating of his heart does anything but slow. “You’re okay.” 

It wasn’t worded as a question, maybe more of a reassurance, but it helped you immensely. Your tension lessened at the comforting sound of Scottish drawl and deep, silver, voice. But you wanted him to wrap his arms around you; gaze into those cerulean orbs.

Tomorrow.

“Keep on the line until I get home?” You ask feebly, not able to resist looking in the mirrors as you turn out of the parking lot. 

The blue-capped stranger was still standing there, and one of the black cars in the far corner had turned its headlights on. A deep dread overtakes your ribs like you’d just gotten out of something very, very, bad. A sense of a lingering morality stays in between your ribs.

“‘Course. Wouldn’t be doin’ anything else, Bonnie.” Johnny utters, glaring at the floor. “I’ll be ‘ere the whole time.”

It wasn’t fair that he was unable to be there with you—never before had the constraints from his job hit him full strength in the chest like this. If he can’t protect the ones he loves back on the home field, then what was the point of the Task Force in the first place? 

By the time you get home after taking the fastest route, you quickly gather everything from the back and shuffle inside, pulse still racing. You lock the door behind you and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. 

Johnny’s soft breath over the call was like a lullaby, right in your ear as if he was beside you in bed. Oh, you missed his soft snores more than anything. Your gaze goes glossy, but the tears are held back stubbornly. 

As if sensing your turmoil, your boyfriend speaks lowly. 

“Y’know, I bet the rest of the boys would really love it if we kept ‘em over for a drink and a bite when we all get back. I can whip up something quick on the grill and you can take a breather, eh?” He speaks so softly it almost makes the tears worse, heart palpitating. 

You wetly laugh and place a hand to your mouth, standing in the dark foyer with groceries on the floor and a primal fear slowly leaving you. The familiar scents of charcoal and birch wood from the Scots hair product are stuck into the very walls of this shared dwelling, along with the scuffs on the floor from play-wrestling during movies; a light that needed to be replaced due to Johnny accidentally running straight into it at two am. He had thought an intruder had broken in, but it was just a bird that had snuck in through an open window.

The signs of a well-lived and loved home. 

“But you wanted pollock,” you grumble with a hidden smile and burning ears, pushing the tip of your shoe into the front rug.

Johnny beams and goes to lie back down, putting a hand behind his head against the pillow.

“Well, now I’m makin’ burgers. Guess you’re just going to have to sit back and watch my fabulous arse from the porch, yeah, Dearie? Don’t burn a hole into them, now, they’re the only pair I’ve got, and I know how much you like ‘em.”

“Shut up.” 

“I’ll even wear that apron you got me—what was it you said it did,” the cheeky Scot smirks, all teeth and crinkled eyelids, and hears your complaints get louder as your mind flies away from what had happened almost immediately. “Made me look like I should be in a porno? Hell, if you were in it with me, I’d not complain ‘bout it. Steamin’ Jesus, I’d let you do horrible things to me, Dearie.”

From somewhere in the barracks a low groan echoes out and Johnny snaps his hand down to stifle his loud laughter as you bark at him. 

“MacTavish!” 

Great bouts of laughter leave everyone glaring from atop pillows and from over fingers stuffed into ears; some even get up and gather blankets, leaving the barracks room entirely.

In your foyer, your body blazes with heat like you’d been set on fire, a hand placed over your eyes and a treacherous grin on your mouth. 

“Keep your voice down, you absolute arsepiece!”

“Aye—! That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ya!” 

“Johnny!”

—

The second time you called him was out of pure curiosity, only a few hours before your lover was scheduled to come home and cook for you and his Task Force. Around six o'clock. 

“When was our postbox all scratched up?” Your thumb runs over the black numbers of the sequence, blinking with wrinkled skin as you take a glance at the neighbors’ and frown. No one else's was like that. “I thought you said you compromised with the local kids and would give them money for sweets so they would stop messing with our stuff?” 

“Little fiends were sucking me dry!” Johnny huffs, “No way the devils would pass up more sugar and do something like that. What’s it look like, then? A few stray rocks manage to dent it?”

Your lips release a sigh and you pick up your mail with an annoyed grunt, closing and locking the cubby as you reply. “No way, it looks like someone took a knife to it.” Clicking your tongue, you shake your head. “God, things have just been going wrong lately.”

Shuffling his feet over the tarmac and hearing the plane engines die down behind him, Johnny takes a glance back. Price was standing at the top of the C17 arms crossed and head tilted—the Scot could imagine the raised eyebrow almost immediately. 

He grimaces and holds up a finger, walking a few more steps away as Gaz leaves the hull with his bags slung over his shoulders. 

“I can’t talk any longer, Bonnie, Price’ll wring me for not helpin’ unload the gear. He’s damn near skinnin’ me already.”

You chuckle, “Tell him I said ‘hello’ and not to damage the face.” 

“Oh, you’re a horror, you are, Dearie.” 

Quick declarations of love and see you soons were exchanged before the connection was cut, and your feet carried you back into the house. Your phone and the mail went to sit on the tiny hallways table, shoes tossed onto the plastic mat sitting on the floor with a small thump. 

Sighing, you rub over your eyes, thinking over if it was worth calling the post office or just trying to fix the scratches yourself. 

“I think we have some paint in the garage…” You trail off. 

Ultimately, you just pushed that to the back burner. Johnny was coming home. Your lips peeled into a large smile, and you’re rushing off to get into a nice outfit for the rest of Task Force who was coming a bit later than your boyfriend. Thoughts of finally being able to be picked up by your boyfriend's strong arms were all-consuming, being held into a broad chest and digging your nails to the dip of his spine. 

Just being able to be around the mohawked-man was a blessing that you’d never take for granted. 

You settled on a nice top and casual pants—you’d met the others before, so there was no need to go overboard. Smoothing your clothes down, you enter the living room and go to open the curtains, letting the light of the interior spread to the small lawn and the street. Humming under your breath, the vehicle outside doesn’t catch your attention immediately; the black metal is just another parked entity sitting still. 

When you do pause, your curtains half-opened, the delayed shock makes you lose precious time as you stare slack-jawed at one of the twin cars from yesterday at the parking lot. Your fingers clench into the fabric in a sudden moment of frozen shock. As if a mythical creature had just run past your field of view, the parting of your lips is instinctual before the widening of your eyes. 

A still second passes before you’re sprinting to the front door—locking it and snatching your phone. Heart pounding, you make a dash to the bedroom, dialing Johnny with fear-tight pupils. 

He had told you if there was ever an emergency to call him right away, he’d get there faster than any police officer; for the record, you believed that wholeheartedly. Johnny was more loyal than a dog in a pack, once someone raised the alarm the Sergeant was locked in. 

Rushing into the bedroom, you trip over the tossed covers but right yourself as the dialing tone sounds out, heavy breathing making your lungs hurt. You open the nightstand table and dig under a collection of books, hand meeting the smooth metal of an M9 pistol. 

Putting the phone on speaker, you throw it onto the mattress.

Legally, you shouldn’t even have this—while Johnny had been teaching you to shoot, you didn’t have a license for it yet. But he’d insisted on leaving you behind with something to defend yourself with.

The confused voice of your lover sounds over the open space. “Jesus, Bonnie, you miss me that much? It cannae ‘ave been more than ten minutes—”

“The car from yesterday is outside the house.” You throw the books to the floor and hear them make a clatter just as you pull out a box of ammunition. Taking out the gun’s magazine, you load bullets with a violently shaking hand. Some hit the ground with a metallic ping, but you pay little attention, just blinking back anxious tears and a harsh focus on the sounds of the front door handle being jimmied.

“I…what?” Johnny’s voice gets heavier, demanding with a snarl trapped in the back of his throat. 

Standing stationary in the doorway Base—about a twenty-minute drive from home, the man’s heart suddenly jumps in his breast. Did he hear you right? Behind him, Ghost slows to a stop at the now blocked opening, watching with narrowed eyes; a large rifle slung over his shoulder and a carry bag in his arm. Johnny’s shoulders wind tight, feet parted as he suddenly turns on his heels and takes off back the way he came in, the phone still at his ear where the Lieutenant knew you were on the call.

“What the fuck?!” Ghost’s skeletal head follows after and pointedly notices the Scots lack of care for how his bags hit the ground but keeps the pistol holstered at his thigh and the combat knife strapped to his upper shoulder. 

“Johnny?” He calls out, but only the wind answers him. “The hell are you off to?!” The gargantuan man sends a glance over to Price who was watching just as intently, lids narrowed. Gaz cleared his throat.

“....Shouldn’t we follow him? Sounds pretty serious.” 

Price sighs, taking a moment to watch Soap sprint to the main building and shove past other soldiers and staff. He grunts.

“Move light.” 

The phone call was filled with heavy breathing and hurried orders. 

Your boyfriend was running you down the basics of firing at a moving target as the sound of pounding at the front door became more hurried.

“It’s not like a stationary target—when someone’s runnin’ at ya, they're gonna be moving quick and you’re not going to be able to fire if you don’t mean it!” 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter with a shaky inhalation, loading the M9’s magazine and clicking off the safety. “What the hell do they want with me?” The whispered question is more for you than it is for anyone else, but the answer from the sprinting Scot startles you. 

At that exact moment, the pounding of a fist stops completely.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna fire at the first bastard that comes down that hallway. We’ll ask the questions later.” You hear a car door opening and a yell from Johnny’s side, soon the clammer of grunting breaths an exclamation of ‘hurry the fuck up!’

“I—”

“If you need to, leave through the window and go to the neighbors. Take cover in the foliage and slip away to the back alley.” Johnny never spoke like this to you—clipped and deathly serious. But now that you think about it, as you stay frozen and barricaded in the bedroom, if he spoke any differently you’d probably break down. “Do you copy?”

This was Sergeant MacTavish, and damn him if anything came between that man and the people he cared about. 

He barks your name, “Do you copy?!” 

“Yeah,” the gun shakes in your grip, but nonetheless you hold it at your hip and turn your eyes to the window. It would be easier to leave, you think. You’re not trained for this! “I–I think I’m going to—”

The front door’s window is broken with a shattering of glass. You rush to the phone and turn off the speaker, afraid that the sound would immediately tell these people where you were. Loud shouts flow into the foyer and spread like venom under the crack of the thin barrier separating you and the intruders. 

“Spread out and find her!”

“Yes, Sir!” 

Sir? You ask, eyes snapping this way and that as Johnny is dead silent on the other side. You think you hear the slam of a foot to the pedal, but you can’t be sure. Fuck, there was so much going on, you didn’t know what to do.

“Screw this, I’m going out the fucking window.” You gasp out, lungs tight and skin sweaty, you turn on the safety on the gun and stuff it into your belt. 

One-handed, you unlatch the lock and strain your ears, hearing feet getting closer. Grunting, you shove the heavy frame up and try to stop the ringing in your ears. Whoever these people in your house were—they were professionals. They had patience; studied your intellect with the trick in the parking lot and followed you home so they could mark your postbox number as a reminder of your address. What the hell was happening? 

Just as you’re about to make the small drop into the flower bed, a creak echoes from behind the bedroom door. You freeze in place, one foot dangling into the backyard. 

Breathing slowly, your eyes lock to the deep shadow that spreads like two distorted poles as the large feet face the very place you’d holed up. As delicately as you’re able with an award-setting tremor in your gut, you place the phone down onto the window sill; Johnny’s loud and worried voice dims as all attention moves to self-preservation. You’re just about to reach for your gun when the door busts off its hinges. 

Starling, and before your hands can find purchase, you’re tumbling backward—out of the house entirely with a stifled shout of alarm. Slamming to the ground and crushing flowers in the process, you have no time to think about the pain going up your spine or at the base of your skull before you’re scrambling for the M9. 

Just as someone peeks out from the window, face covered and holding an assault rifle, you’re firing three shots in rapid succession as you don’t even remember flicking off the safety. 

Two shots miss entirely, but on the last and final press of the trigger, as your arms catch the recoil, it connects. 

A comment is cut short as blood explodes in a great wave of velocity, coating the house upwards almost to the shingled roof. The body slumps, weight bringing it down to hang limp over the frame.

Wide-eyed, you still hold the shaking gun in the air, muzzle smoking, breathing fast through your mouth. Had you just…

Your stomach bunched, acid traveling up your throat to pool under your tongue. Perhaps you would have thrown up at that moment, the setting reality that you’d just shot someone in the head like an anvil in your pounding skull. But the barking voices from inside the house snap you back. 

Gasping down the breaths you realized you hadn’t been taking, your wobbly feet dart to shove you up like a newborn deer as sprinting bodies close in on the porch’s sliding door. God, you could only imagine what Johnny was thinking. 

Bolting out of your backyard fence, you remember your lover’s orders and run as fast as you’re able to the neighbor's open yard, using the darkening sky to help cover you. Cursing under your breath and thinking over all of the ways this should have already gone wrong, you wipe at the tears cascading down your cheeks. 

Don’t think about it—just get away.

It wasn’t long before you were down the alleyway, feet weak and lungs burning. There was a stickiness to the back of your scalp, blood, undoubtedly, from an injury caused by the fall.

It’s a damn miracle I didn’t break anything. 

What would you have done then? Just let those people take or kill you? You shiver at the idea and force yourself to go faster. Darting around a corner, your feet skid to a quick halt. 

The barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your face. 

“Had a feeling you’d be slippery.” It was the voice of the man from the parking lot—the man with the blue cap. Your face jerks to an imitation of confined horror and unease at the same eyes boring into you. He was dressed in gear like the rest of the men now exiting your house to hunt you down. The stranger shifts his feet and you flinch. “Drop the gun, Sweetheart.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” You find your voice, hissing out. The pistol clatters to the floor as it slips from your grip and you hate how you flinch at the sound. 

“Your boyfriend and his buddies are hard to track down.” Blue Cap huffs, and the tall stature of the man makes you incredibly nervous. Backing up a step instinctually, he follows and smirks. “But I figured the best way to meet him was to find his little bird first—he’d come right to me. Cliche, I know, but you can’t fault me. Works every time.” 

What did this guy want with your Johnny? Gritting your teeth, your fingers shake at your sides, hips tense and ready to run.

“He’ll kill you.” You level, not keen to show this man how disgusting you felt being near him. 

He shuffles up next to you, grabbing the meat of your arm. Trying to jerk away, the barrel of his weapon is shoved into your ribs; gasping, your body goes rigid.

If your heart goes any faster, it’ll break.

“Not if I threaten to kill you first.” Forcing you forward, you glare and feel the urge to spit in the man’s face. “C’mon, hun.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, freak.” 

“Ooo…fangs. Can’t be surprised, you did shoot one of my men, after all. Not a bad trigger finger, but you do need decent work on your accuracy if you wanna make anything out of it.” Your eyebrows pull in as you’re corralled back out of the alleyway, barrel bruising your skin and blood dripping down your neck. The man’s grip hurts as a strangled whimper falls from your bitten lips. 

Feet scraping over concrete, you’re brought out into the street as neighbors peak out of windows with drawn curtains; phones to their faces. Did these intruders not care about the police? If anything, that made you sweat more. 

“Ride’s waiting.” 

“I’m not getting into that.” Grunting, your eyes are stuck on the black void of the car parked in the street. A menagerie of other armed men stands all over. “Hell no—you can just shoot me now if that’s the case.”

“Don’t tempt me, I can still go after the Sergeant’s dear old mom,” your lungs chill as the man chuckles to himself, looking down at you through dark lashes. “He has a cousin, too, am I right?” 

Rageful tears spark behind your lids as you blink. 

No way it was going to go like this. Where’s Johnny? 

The gun was taken from your ribs as you’re shoved forward. 

“Get in. Now. We’re already behind schedule.” You stare into the interior and clench your fists, lips quivering but jaw clenched. Your Lover’s voice comes to you, sure of himself and laced with stubbornness. 

If you’re ever in trouble, you wait for me, Dearie. I’ll be there ‘fore you know it, ready to defend your honor like the knight in shinin’ armor I am, eh? Why are you laughing…?

Turning back around with every ounce of courage you can muster, you splay your feet and cross your arms.

“No.” The gun is raised to your head, and you want to flinch back in terror but restrain yourself. 

“Get in.” 

“No.” How your voice wasn’t breaking was a question in and of itself, but Johnny had always said you were stubborn like him. Best time to prove him right was with a barrel to your face, apparently.

The stranger’s eyes light with anger, hands clenching over the body of the weapon as the rest of his men stare on in shock. A growl meets air.

“I’m not asking for a third time, Sweetheart—” One loud boom later and you’re ducking down with your hands over your head, ears ringing and body unsteady; a great weight hits the ground right next to you.

The sound of gunfire rattles the world all around the once quiet street, and you think that you and your Lover will have to move after this. No way the neighbors could let all this slide. Looking up, your eyes jump from the corpse spasming near you to the running men, chaos breeding in the lines between shouts and dropping bodies. 

A hand latches into your waist, and you’re being lifted into strong arms moments later. Squealing, your head snaps to the size and meets cerulean blue inlaid in a strong brow line. 

“I’ve got ya.” Your body loses all tension at the accent that you would know anywhere, even in death, a strong grip picking you up and keeping you close to his broad chest. 

Johnny carries you away in the midst of battle as the rest of the 141 get involved, making quick work of the remaining men. Breathing in his scent, you force your face under his chin, feeling the stubble scrape as your fingers dig into flesh. 

He’s here. He’s—he’s right here.

“Don’t worry, Dearie, I’m right here. It’s nearly over, now.” You try to bring him closer as he takes cover behind a wall, pressing his shoulders against the grating stone as he shields you closer to him. Sliding down to the ground.

His eyes snap back and forth, heart rapid. God, he was nearly too late. Johnny presses his nose into your hair as he breathes deeply, watching bodies fall and feeling you shake. Feeling you shiver; now finally able to let everything sink in. 

“Shh,” the Scot mutters, pressing you closer as you whisper his name in a hoarse breath. “You’re alright. I’m ‘ere, Bonnie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His hands filter over your skin, checking for injuries and feeling over growing bumps from under-the-skin abrasions.

His teeth clench together in hate, hotheadedness taking over for a moment as part of him wants to rush out and pick a few of these bastards off himself. But it’s just not that simple. 

Looking out into the street with serious eyes, the radio attached to his vest sounds off as the last of the firefight ends almost as quickly as it began. 

“Clear.” It was Price. “How is she?” 

Johnny sighs, looking down at you in his hold as he whispers comforting words in quick succession.

“Shaken, but alright…” The reply is muttered as you sniffle, your fingers going to wipe away tears. “She’s—she’s alright.”

Johnny beats you to it as he tries to calm down, large digits tilting your head to the side and studying intently as he swipes them away with a firm thumb and a careful frown. 

“Johnny—” Your eyes stay locked on him as the Scot gets rid of any trace of fear or sadness, calluses burning your skin just as they always did. His gaze flickers to you; lips pulling tight. None of you choose to move, too content with being this close to one another and safe, even if the situation was serious. “I…”

You trail, not even knowing what to say as the wetness of your eyes blurs your vision, body hot, and the back of your skull aching. Your hands go to cup his cheeks. It’s all the words he needs. 

Eyes soft, the Sergeant attempts a weak and worried smile. “I’m so proud of you, Dearie, y’know that? So damn proud.” Your lips quirk, a strained laugh echoing out. A finger pokes the side of your nose. “Hey, I’m serious now. Stop your foolin'.” 

Johnny’s fingers run deep circles into your temples as you trace the lines of his cheeks. 

“Shut up.” You huff, straining against a wide smile. It was easy to push all of this behind you when you were looking at him. He made everything better.

“Hm,” He moves forward and presses his lips to your forehead, quickly going to lay kisses all over your face until giggles spill out from the alleyway to the waiting three. 

Gaz smiles to himself, Price grunts lightly, and Ghost gazes off. 

“I’ll just have to prove to my Bonnie Little Lady that she’s a prime piece of work, then, eh? Smarter; more quick than a fuckin’ recon team,” he leans close and you have to try and shove him away playfully when he starts to squish you against him. Your laughter grows as his scratchy chin nuzzles your neck. “And don’t mind me sayin’ now, but a proper fine pair of tits and arse to go along with the brains of ya, Dearie.”

“MacTavish!” you squeal, “I should call your mother up and explain how you speak to me—that’s vulgar! I know for a fact she didn’t teach you that.”

“Teach me? Oh, now, then, no one could teach me a thing when you’re around. Cannae think a bit; better off talkin’ to a pile of stone.” You punch his solid chest and laugh so hard your face hurts, breath fanning against his neck as his roaming praise continues as if his mind was a bag of water punctured by a knife. “I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you, my Little Bonnie.” 

The last sentence is quietly muttered into your temple, a kiss pressed tight. He pulls back slightly and feels at the dried blood on your locks, fingers separating to find the scalp. Johnny’s chest rattles in a sigh, hand shaking slightly when he sees it. 

He’d also seen the body on the window sill, though he knows not to mention it.

Christ, you’d had to kill someone. 

The prospect of taking a life was easy to the Scot—some days he felt like he had been born and bred to do just that. It became simple. Elementary. Like his mother could memorize a recipe, he could memorize the position of arteries; what shot to take at that instant, and which to wait on based only on past missions that resonated like past lives.

But for you…

Oh, it was never supposed to happen to you.

“Are you alright?” Johnny breaths, humor gone and left with guilt. 

He feels your lips on his raging pulse and lets his eyes close, content to feel you move against him as your head remains in his neck. Shifting his body into a more comfortable position, he cages you in protectively. Never again would he allow this to happen.

“I shot someone.” The man’s lips quivered, heart hurting at the blatant shock in your voice. It hadn’t hit you yet, and, hell, Johnny still remembered his first kill like it was yesterday. It wouldn’t be good when all this calmed down. He’d thrown up for two days straight, himself.

“Aye.” He breathes.

“His blood’s all over the house.”

“It is.”

“Is…is that,” you’re shivering, so he massages your spine soothingly until you find the words. “Is that a good thing?” 

He should say no, tell you that the situation that you’d been put in was never supposed to happen and it was just an unfortunate reality. Death wasn’t a good thing, per se. But the man had broken into your shared home—busted down the bedroom door with the intent of using you as a bargaining chip to get to him. So, to the Scot, the answer is clear.

No one messed with his family and lived.

“Yes.” Taking down the air of a dusty alleyway as sirens wail a street over, you weren't surprised that your boyfriend had managed to get to your home far faster than the police could. He said he always would, didn’t he? 

The bills for the speeding tickets and the running of red lights were going to be atrocious.

“Okay.” Your answer is muttered as you peel back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s lips. You believed him. Always would. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me.” His bright teeth show off a smile as your mirror. He kisses you heavily on the lips. Whispers against your lips, a promise. A vow. “As long as you put up with me, I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Soap,” Price yells, snapping the two of you out of it. “Get on with it!” 

The Scot raises a shocked brow and smirks down at you as you tilt your head and listen in happy confusion. 

“Y’know, those shots weren't half bad back there. ‘Specially after takin’ a tumble into the flowers.” Your expression freezes in denial as you’re lifted bridal style into the air. Speaking over the calls of police and firemen as they come to the scene, your voice monotones as your legs swing.

“...I missed two out of the three, you dork. That’s failing.” Johnny gapes in mock surprise and you refrain from snorting at the boyish glint in his eyes.

“Jesus, is it really? Hell, you’ll be comin’ for my job in no time, won’t ya? That’s one better than me!” 

You kiss him and feel the grunt through your lips.

TAGS ||

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet​, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

[ev-belknap]

Good omens 2 spoilers incoming

Something something the many implications of Demons getting memory wiped before being pushed down. The way Crowley understands what happened to Gabriel better than anyone. ‘Looking at where the furniture isn’t’. Knowing that it hurts to remember, knowing you *can* remember anyway. If you push hard enough. If you ask enough questions.

Something about the way many angels try to trick Crowley in admitting he remembers working with them in the before times. About how Crowley avoids answering. How he opens that file with the confidence of someone who knows exactly how fucking high he was on the ladder.

He knows. He remembers everything. And he still chooses to stay himself, because fuck all of that.

… and then something about how Aziraphale remembers Crowley, from before, and how he just wants Crowley to be that happy again, not seeing that he could be, but no longer on heavens terms, never again on their terms…

I’m going to make a season 3 prediction that Crowley is going to end up creating an entire garden to go along with their happily ever after cottage, and we’ll get Aziraphale staring at his wondrous joy again.

[copiousloverofcopia]

The Copia I love reading about is how he's portrayed as odd, quiet, nervous...finally getting the chance to bed a sister of sin, only to ask afterwards shyly "was....was that good?". Dude....she can't catch her breath, her ears popped twice from the strength of her orgasms, and she can smell colors now....OBVIOUSLY! Turns out he's some sort of sex God with a magic dick.🤣

Lol sooooo I did a thing. I also made Copia a virgin in this so it's an even bigger 😳

Anyways ghestie here you go.

Okie Dokie

Also available here on AO3!

Definitely NSFW beneath the cut

Copia took in a cleansing deep breath, his palms clammy beneath the leather of his embellished gloves. The Cardinal stood alone in his office. The day was winding down into night and there was no more paperwork that couldn't wait until tomorrow. It's time, he thought, staring at himself in the full length mirror–practicing what he would say. He adjusted his biretta and fastened his pellegrina, the diamond encrusted grucifix sprayed proudly across his chest prepared to be on his way. Tonight was the night he would tell you. 

He had a noted pep in his step as he passed the siblings as they loitered in the hallways. A warm smile worn well on his face, only the hint of unease in his demeanor as he made his way to the chapel. His footfalls echoed off the marble floor as he stopped just outside the chapel.

This was your meeting spot. A public space as to not lead you both to temptation. Copia was always careful to not be perceived as pushy or too forward in your quiet romance. Leaving both of you on edge, constantly wanting more, but neither making the first move. 

You still found it romantic however, the hours spent under the cathedral ceilings painted a rich shade of blue—mimicking the night sky. It was wondrous to behold and coupled with the warm glow of the candles that would embrace you, the perfect setting—if only he’d make a move. 

You turned towards the noise, met with the sight of your sweet awkward Cardinal closing up the doors behind him. Your heart began to pound in your chest. There was something about him that, despite what others said about his nervous disposition and “rat-like” appearance, made you ache inside. You watched, a smile on your face as Copia made his way down the nave. 

You stood up to greet him. Breath held within your chest as he walked toward you, his eyes still on his feet. When he finally looked up at you he smiled, shaking his head. “Oh no amore, please don’t stand on my account.” he insisted, motioning for you to be seated. 

Copia made the Sign of Sin, as he slipped into the pew beside you. A traditional self blessing and blasphemous display, as an affront to God, in respect of his Infernal Majesty. The sign itself, sending your eyes straight to the Cardinal’s groin, inspiring lascivious imagery and making your cheeks ignite.

“Ahem…So why did you ask me here?” you inquired, clearing your throat as you shifted in your seat. Copia placed his hand tenderly atop of your thigh, instantly heat began coursing through you. You were almost embarrassed at just how flustered you became at a mere touch. 

“You see…I have been thinking cara mia. I have been thinking that we should…um…that we should—”

“Should what C? Just spit it out already?" You laughed.

“That we should c-commit ourselves to sin. To …ah…you know to um…consummate our devotion in his name.” Copia confessed, pulling the biretta from his head. He fidgeted with it in his lap, patiently waiting to hear what you'd have to say. At first you were unsure you’d heard him right. Both of you had been careful to not discuss this particular subject, straying far away from anything that may lead to its implication. 

Now here he was telling you it was his deepest desire, his wish for you both to become one. Your heart pumped hard, so hard you felt it might break free of your chest. Your would-be lover's words made your blood rush, flooding your entire body, and culminating in the growing ache between your thighs. 

“Oh…that.” You said, the words choked as you tried to speak them, your mouth dry and voice shaky.

“Sí…I…I have thought a lot about it…uh…in the past few weeks and well—I would like to try.” Copia explained, his eyes meeting with yours. The impact of his captivating and mismatched gaze, parting your lips and creating a throb felt between your legs. 

“Are you sure, I mean I know that this will…would be your first–”

“I…think…no I know. I am sure. I can’t promise I will be any good amore, but I know that I want to be with you—in all ways. And this—this is something I truly desire. As a matter of fact. I–I have never wanted anything more.” He vowed, his hands taking hold of yours. Copia ran his thumb against the back of your hand, a soft and intimate gesture that only served to impassion you more.

“Ok.” You said, the only word you were able to form from your lips. Copia's eyes stared into you, growing hungry with each passing second. He removed his gloves, placing them beside you on the old wood pew, as he drew forth another smile. Suddenly he brought his mouth to yours, your face cradled within his hand, as he pressed his soft lips onto yours. A rush sent through you, his tongue slipping inside your mouth and dancing with yours as if he had done it a million times before.     

You lost yourself almost instantly, the moment both of you had secretly been waiting for was upon you. Now you struggled to hold in the moaning that so desperately wanted to leave your lips. Feeling his bare hand slide up under your habit made you breathless and trembling. Copia and you both moaning, fully unable to hold back as his fingertips met with the wet fabric of your panties.

“Oh amore, I want you. Por favore…Touch me.” he begged, lifting his hips up to send your attention to the swell of his cock below his cassock. 

“Oh C!” You moaned, running your hand along on the rigid thick bulge of his pants.Your eyes widened, he was surprisingly well endowed. Your cunt aching so badly with the knowledge that you longed to have him inside you even more. 

“Il tuo tocco è inebriante. Oh cazzo spero di poter durare.” Copia mewled, biting down on his lower lip as he slid his fingers past your panties, slipping carefully to meet with the full wetness of your folds. The silky flesh, plump with blood and need, making his cock pulse as he pushed his fingers deep inside. You both moaned once more, Copia stroking you and pressing into your aching cunt with full fervor. You felt yourself gripping the edge of the pew, Your nails digging into the wood as your hips rose up on Copia's hand.

“Amore, I want to be inside you. I need you now please.” Copia whined, unable to stand how good your pussy felt on his fingers. There was no need to rest on ceremony, he couldn’t hold off any longer. 

“Take me C, show me how devoted you are to the sin of lust. To our dark God.” You replied, where those particular words had come from you didn't know, as he pulled his fingers from you. The Cardinal dropped his pants and undid his excessive buttons on his cassock. Rushing to get at his heavy, leaking cock as you wiggled out of your panties and leaned over the back of the pew. He pulled up your habit, bent over and ready as you revealed your dripping folds to him. 

"Oh sweet Lucifer." Copia said, sucking in his lower lip as he stared at you. “Are you ready cara?” his words, even more strained and overcome with the impulse to fill you.

“Yes! C, please I’m yours!” You cried, looking over your shoulder as you raised up your ass before him, an offering fit for Asmodeus himself. Copia licked his lips, his eyes never leaving your body, as he rubbed his cock through your folds. Once he gathered enough of your slick, the head of his pulsing red cock pushed through and  he buried it deep inside you.

“Mmmm…cazzo amore, you feel so good.” Copia groaned, sucking in air through his clenched teeth as he spread you out inside. Thrusting and pumping his hard cock into your warm cunt. You pushed yourself back on to him, allowing him in deeper. He grabbed hold of your thighs, steadying you as he fucked you right there in the chapel. Both of you too overcome with the heated sensations, of him sliding in and out, to care about being caught. 

The girth of his cock filled you so tightly. The pressure against your every bundle of nerves, setting you aflame. The way he moved, the feeling of him inside…it was so salacious and unlike anything you'd experienced before. You wondered how the two of you were ever able to abstain before. 

Copia pulled you up a bit, your hands still holding on the back of the pew for dear life, as he re-positioned you. “C? Ahhh AHHH!” You screamed, as this new position had him hitting you in just the right spot. Your body, clenching down around his cock and holding tight to him with his every movement.

“I want to be deeper inside you, feel every part of you." Copia panted as he rolled back your hips. The tip of his cock was pressing hard against your ribbed flesh with each thrust. The spot before only you managed to find, somehow the virginal Cardinal had found it within moments. The way it felt to have his cock rubbing you there sent you floating, your soul transcending your body.

You came hard, seizing down on him. Tasting the colors as they flashed by—painted on your eyelids held closed tight. Your mind, completely awash in the sensations felt between you. The rat man had surpassed all expectations sending you to the heights of passion and lust never before imagined. 

With each passing moment, things only deepened in intensity. Both of you, clambering for air and struggling to maintain your grip. Quickly losing the strength to keep going but still needing to meet that extremely satisfying and fulfilling end. Copia continued to pump himself into you, the drops of sweat felt as they rolled down the small of your backs.

“Mmm… How? C?” you asked, breathless. Your words,  almost incomprehensible as Copia smiled. He pressed his lips to your shoulder and he pounded himself even deeper. 

“You bring out the beast in me. I need to fill you. Por favore allow me to cum…I don’t think I can hold it any more.” he growled, his grip tightening as he dug his fingers into the flesh of your ass. Copia losing his coordination with each subsequent thrust, ever so close to letting go.

“Cum C! Make me cum again for you!” You screamed. All of a sudden Copia pulled out from you, the sudden shock the loss of his width inside you short lived as he whipped you around to sit on his lap. You sunk back down on his cock, this time facing him. It was even more intimate and intense, his eyes locked with yours as he began to thrust up inside you, rubbing your clit with his fingers.

Your mouth fell open with his gentle touch. Copia taking his time as you rode him, holding you to slow you down. Both of you delighting in the feeling of you rocking your hips as you slid up and down on his hard shaft. 

“Ah…mmm...you feel so good amore. I—I'm cumming, now cum for me!” Copia's words acting as a command, feeling his cock swell inside you. Pressing just enough more to send you over. You saw sparkles in your vision as you felt him begin to cum, the hot ropes of his seed pouring deep inside you. Your cunt squeezing him tightly as he tried to keep moving. 

You both let out a final yowl as you road out the fall from your heights of pleasure. When it was all said and done you collapsed into Copia's arms. Sweaty and satisfied, a wide smile pressed on your face. Never before had  felt this way and you suddenly wondered where this sweet dorky man had been hiding all this animalistic lust. 

Copia broke the quiet come between the two of you as he spoke. “Did…did I do alright?” he asked, his face still flush from release. You looked at him in pure disbelief. Surely this wasn’t a serious question. Was it?

“I don’t want to sound like im being disingenuous or like im making stuff up…” you began swallowing back as you prepared yourself to answer, “C…I—I saw the end of the universe with that orgasm.” you confessed. You felt the words may sound silly but your satisfied, yet sore body was a testament to their truth. The cosmos had opened up to you with his touch. The pleasure he made you feel renewed your soul in ways that only Lucifer himself would be able to put into words, words beyond what you could muster. 

“Okie dokie. Thats good then?” he asked, still unsure of himself as he smiled up at you. You couldn't help but break out in laughter. How naive he could be to not realize this. How could he not realize what a sex god he was as you sat in his lap within the pews, covered in sweat and cum from the encounter. Surely he was only joking, but you responded anyway. 

“Yes, C…that was definitely good.”

[let-them-read-fics]

In Your Dreams

Pairing: Yoohyeon x Fem!Reader

Warnings / Misc. -- Smut

Word Count: 2,273

Summary: When a 2AM knock came at your door during one of the season’s most torrential downpours, you never expected to find her, of all people, standing on your porch and looking so desperate. 

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait, but here’s the Yooh smut I promised :) Siyeon is next, so keep an eye out for that <3

◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚

“Yoohyeon?” You gaped, shock evident in your tone as you lowered the television remote in your hand (which you had been fully prepared to use as a weapon, had she been anyone else). You quickly sat it down on the table by the door and peered at her, full of concern.

Her clothes were completely sodden – every fiber of them packed full of chilly rainwater as they clung tightly to her – and you had to make a conscious effort to not stare at the expanse of skin that her partially unbuttoned shirt exposed. 

The dark cover of night behind her was disrupted by the house lights of the neighborhood – all switched on, acting as little beacons of hope through the raging storm. A large flash of lightning came, too, streaking sharply against the brooding clouds above. 

“What are you doing here?” Your wide eyes darted across her features, searching for an explanation, but she shied away for some reason and failed to utter more than a quiet word here or there. 

When a clap of thunder rang out mere seconds later, she tensed slightly, still shivering from the cold.

You shook your head at her odd behavior but reached out, nonetheless, and pulled her inside. 

Perhaps a little shelter from the elements would open her up.

Water cascaded freely off of her, dripping down onto your floors and filling your foyer with its quiet sounds as you quickly shut and locked the door. You approached her again and moved her closer to the nearby vent that blew wondrous, warm air into the open space, silently hoping that it could work some magic. 

But even once you gave her time to acclimate and returned your gaze to hers, she continued to avoid it. 

Curious, you took it upon yourself to reach up and cup her cheeks, coaxing her into letting you see her. 

When you did, something clicked. Only then did you really take in the full sight of her. 

A vibrant blush painted her cheeks, and her pupils were blown wide as she peered back at you. Beneath the mussed, white, now practically see-through button up she had on, a set of dark lingerie showed, complimenting her tanned skin beautifully. One of the lacy straps of it had long ago fallen off of her shoulder, and her breast was close to showing because of that. The lines of her abs were visible as well, and every movement she made was full of some kind of alluring, restrained tension. 

Like it was killing her not to reach out and touch you.

Her bottom lip was rosy and swollen, due to her habit of biting it when she gets aroused. 

“I had a dream about you,” she admitted, like she couldn’t hold it in anymore. Her breathing was a bit quicker than normal – less stable. 

You were her best friend; she couldn’t believe she was about to do something like this. 

Her drenched clothes, paired with the warm air that felt its way up her body, created a tantalizing mix of sensations that caused goosebumps to arise; and your hands on her only multiplied them even more. She almost couldn’t stand it.

“And you drove all the way here because of it?” You wondered aloud, quirking a brow.

Though you weren’t totally oblivious to the implication behind her words, incredulity overtook your mind and tone. Even if she had had a wet dream about you, you were sure she would just laugh it off like everything else. Like every other charged interaction you’d ever shared, that danced precariously along the border of platonicity and attraction. 

There was no way she planned to do something about it. 

…right?

She swallowed, taking a second to decide if she was prepared to cross this boundary with you. You’d both tested the limits of your “friendship” before, playing with fire, toying with the line and pushing things to get a rise out of one another – but neither of you had had the courage to follow through completely. 

At least not until now.

Her head nodded sheepishly, sealing your fate. 

“I tried to take care of it myself, Y/N/N, but nothing felt as good as you did in that dream. Will you help me?” The soft plea in her voice bordered on a whine, and it ignited something in you that you had never fully considered with her before. 

Drip, drip, drip

Water pooled at your feet now, resembling the mess that you had inadvertently made in her panties. 

She wanted to take you right here on the floor, or up against the wall that stood behind you. She wanted to rip your clothes off and hear the beautiful timbre of your voice as you came undone, moaning her name. 

But she didn’t. She waited, doing her best to ignore the throbbing of her center and the curious way your eyes kept returning to her body, dropping lower and lower. She waited on you to make the next move, needing to know you wanted her just as badly as she did you.

“Kiss me, Yooh.”

That simple request set her in motion, and she had you in her arms in a second. The subsequent gasp that resounded in your throat at the coldness of her clothes was muffled by her lips before it really had a chance to escape. 

Desperation took on human form as she backed you up against the wall, stripping out of her shirt and slipping her shoes off all the while. 

You moaned into her mouth when she hastily unzipped your pants, nearly breaking your zipper in the process. 

Her frigid fingers slid past your panties with no further warning, and she whimpered quietly when she felt how wet you already were. 

“Y/N…” 

If there was any chance left of her restraining herself, it would have to be now. She was teetering on the edge of no control, and each second that she spent with you loosened her grip on the reins more and more.

“Keep going,” you breathily instructed, allowing your head to loll back against the wall. “I’m all yours.”

She shuddered, both out of excitement and chill. A new kind of darkness eclipsed the usual innocence of your eyes, and she didn’t quite know what to do with herself because of it. 

“Please tell me this is real…”

You chuckled at her earnesty. Even now, in a moment like this, she was capable of making you laugh. 

When you leaned forward and pressed an open mouthed kiss to her neck, she melted into you. You reached down into her pants to cup her with one hand, feeling the warmth that radiated from her cunt even through the lingerie, while the other wrapped around her, tenderly kneading the supple skin of her ass. 

She rocked against you out of instinct, vying for any bit of relief you would possibly award her; the needy movements pushed her own palm harder against your clit, causing you to moan softly. 

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound. 

“Does this feel real enough, baby?” You asked against her pulsepoint, just as your teeth lightly trailed across her sensitive skin. The taut muscles of her neck jumped as she strained helplessly in response. 

“Fuck,” she whined, embarrassed by how much of a mess you’d turned her into. She could feel your smile grow, and it made her walls pitifully flutter and clench around nothing.

“I know you can answer me better than that,” you teased.

You pushed her lace to the side and easily slid two fingers inside of her dripping heat, resolving to get your answer that way instead. 

“Ah!” She moaned at the intrusion, high pitched and broken as she was caught off guard. She looked down between your bodies, watching your fingers rhythmically disappear and reappear at her entrance as you fucked her. A new rise of blush made its way up to her ears at the sounds that she produced – none of which she had any semblance of control over. 

“Yoohyeon…” you warned, still waiting. 

“Yes, Y/N,” she replied, aware of her mistake – though, truthfully, she would make it again a million times over if it got you to touch her like this every time. “It feels so good. Please,” she stressed, fully aware that she wouldn’t survive if you left her without release now, “...don’t stop.” 

Her wish was your command. 

Encouraged by her words, you hiked one of her legs up around your waist and settled closer to her. The new position enabled you to easily reach her g-spot, and her resulting, guttural moan confirmed it. 

You wasted no time in exploiting that in the best possible kind of way. 

The ache between her thighs mingled with pleasure, both in equal, overwhelming doses. A tingling sensation was creeping its way up her spine, and the butterflies in her stomach only grew more untamed. 

“Just like that, jagiya,” she begged into your ear. 

Her hips stuttered, jerking messily as she bucked into you over and over. 

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you praised, admiring the flush of her skin and the way she trembled in your arms. Her weak legs squirmed, shaking as she used what strength she had left to hump a little faster. 

You added another finger as a silent way of rewarding her, and the resulting rush of warmth you felt around them made you smile. Her walls pulsed, eagerly stretching to accommodate the change, and beckoned you back inside with every pump you delivered. 

Even her pussy was greedy for you. 

Both of her hands went to the back of your neck as she pulled you forward and sealed her lips against yours in the dark. She didn’t waste much time with demurity; her kisses were messy and full of need as she tangled her fingers in your hair and roughly tugged on it. 

She swallowed up the subsequent sound of shock that you let out and used the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth. 

It was warm and inviting, just like the rest of her – so eager to please you. She stole your breath away when her kisses grew harsher – more possessive; the tell-tale clenching of her walls around your fingers told you she was getting dangerously close to release, and the small, staccato breaths she let out through her nose made you smile lightly. 

She was so precious, like that. Such a slut for you that she drove all the way to your house in the pouring rain at 2AM, and yet she still clung to her habitual shyness in a few small, undeniable ways. 

Knowing that she had it so bad for you boosted your ego majorly. 

Lightning flashed close by outside, and the bright pulse of it highlighted your combined, desperate movements against one another. She pressed further into you, and you knew she couldn't hold out any longer. 

Her pitiful shaking brought out the more merciful side of you.

“Show me what you can do, Yooh. Cum on my fingers,” you commanded, pulling away just enough to rest your forehead against hers. Her arms tightened around your neck, tethering you impossibly closer. 

The snap of her hips grew messy and rough – more primal as they worked to match the rhythm of your hand – and with a succession of filthy moans and whines, she hit her high. Her raised leg tightened around your waist, flexing to keep you in place. She cried your name out and clung to you, digging her nails into your shoulders hard enough to leave marks. 

You grimaced at the sting, but knowing you’d been the one to make her feel so good made the pain insignificant. 

She buried her face in your neck, peppering slow, grateful kisses there, and you held her close until her breathing began to even out again. 

When she eventually pulled away, you expected her to take a break. You gently lowered her leg and smiled at her, prepared to help her over to the couch so she could recover. 

But her release merely seemed to reenergize her, somehow, and she had no plans of stopping anytime soon.

She dropped to her knees in front of you and slid your pants down your legs in one motion, taking you by surprise. 

“It’s your turn now, baby,” she smirked up at you, tilting her head as a mischievous gleam showed in her eyes. Yet another flash of lightning came, outlining her striking features amid the darkness; she was a vision to behold in every way. 

Her lips easily found your v-line and felt their way across it, leaving kisses and little nips in their wake. Your head lolled back again as the promise of what was to come sank in. 

Along the backs of your calves her hands skimmed, trailing upwards and paying attention to every inch of you that they could touch. Desire led them – a fact evident in the wanton way they groped you. 

“God, I can’t wait to taste you.” She sighed the admission against your skin as if she’d been starved for a year and you were the first bit of food she had laid eyes on since. 

The conviction in her behavior made you blush, wondering how you’d ever survive whatever it was that she had in store. 

How you'd managed to survive so long without it stumped you just as much. 

Your body hummed in silent, aching anticipation. Like a band pulled tight, ready to snap at any moment. 

It seemed to set something off within her.

“You’d better choose a safe word now, Y/N,” she warned. 

[teshadraws]

your story fascinates me quite verily! i'm interested in all the character setup youve done so far, the twists and turn in your pokemon world, the implications of it all. things often come back, its indicative of Very nice, purposeful writing. in my mind it seems that this story might be cyclical. that in their plight to return to the human world, guys like will and perhaps even nia would wind up causing the big dimensional blast to try to get out. that maybe hazel's setup for moving on from the past is going to come back for our wondrous main character, making her choose to let go of her past and instead save the life she's carved out for herself in the pokemon world. it's interesting setup. i have my doubts on this of course, this is a mixture of theorizing and merely analyzing the text... it's really cool! might try to make fanart sometime... to add a complementary question, are there any characters you find to be particularly hard to write?

Thank you!!! ^^ Glad you’re enjoying the story so far.

I won’t confirm or deny anything about your theory, but I love to hear what people are thinking! 👀 And I always love fanart if you feel like making any.

As for your question? Weirdly enough, Nia has moments where she’s really hard for me to write! Something about her character makes me overthink her thoughts and actions more than the others.

[txemptress]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋'𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 | 𝐄. 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬

yes I've finally gave in to temptation.

warning: This'll be stalker Eros? If that's the best term for it? As well as yandere actions such as implicated murder and kidnapping. But, it's Eros so what do you expect. Anyway enjoy.

reminder: F/N means Father Name!

It was long past known that the Vasilios empire was one of the most ruthless to ever be mentioned in the history of this world. Due to this there are a lot of very incompetent empires barely proving their worth to such an empire.

But, what's more interesting for the empires were the rivalry between the Vasilios and [Empire Name]. Because of the other empire's competent attitude towards the Vasilios, it became known that the two empires could barely fathom getting alone with one another. Alliances had been forged, these were either broken or bent by one of the two parties. It came to a point that it started hatred and long lasting war between both empires.

When a fight broke out or a raid was sent, F/N made sure to take his family to safety. Scattering them across the land to ensure that at least one would make it out alive if ever the others were found during the war's battles.

The youngest of the family was the F/N's beloved Name. She barely even knew of such a fight because of her father's protective behavior. To her those journeys to scatter were simple vacation plans made by her father last minute, but of course as she grew older this excuse started getting old on her.

Her father had hoped that it'd last until she grew old enough, but it seemed that wasn't the case since by the age of 18, the cat finally came out of the bag. Name was quite disappointed that he did not find it fit to tell her of their struggles to hold peace in this empire. As far as she was aware a simple answer to the question on why as a child was enough for her to understand, but she did not bring this up for her father's palate was already full enough.

With a wave of goodbye she was sent off once more to the never changing destination of a cottage in the woods. This was the place her father sent her to live off a few days when the war's effects came strong. Here she lived with a few maids handpicked by the members of her family who had always troubled each other with their choices.

"This place looks wondrous!" A maid giggled with delight as she looked around the beautiful cottage filled with plants and herbs. It was perfectly camouflaged to befit safety for Name and her servants. The structure loomed deep inside a dome of plants structured to hide such a place.

Name nods at the maids' excited chattering. This gave her great comfort. Normally, her maids changed depending on the severity of the war. Most times her maids rarely chatted on and on like this. They usually kept quiet and held their peace unless their mistress asked that they entertain her.

Easing herself to the comfort of a windowsill, perfect for climbing she moved herself onto the roof of the house. Slowly, but surely reaching nooks and climbing onto whatever would hold her weight. Most times she made sure to keep silent doing this because of the fear that the maids would go around telling her father.

Looking around the roof tiles, she saw, with much delight, a paper envelope peeking through one of them. So he had responded. Crouching down, she sat on the roof , back pressed onto the chimney and opened the envelope.

These letters had started coming years back when she had first come to this place. They held great comfort and the person who wrote them knew how to make her feel great enjoyment for this place. Though this person was seemingly unknown to her, she had always thought it was written and placed here by her older brother who treasured his sister's feelings most of all.

Reading through the letter's contents she found herself smiling with joy. Folding the paper carefully, she stood up and made her way back down the roof to her bedroom window where she pretended to lay on the bed just as a maid went in.

Far away, lips smiled with delight. So she had finally come back. A relief. The male thought, jumping off the branch of a tree. Perhaps this time, he could finally take a closer eye on this beauty.

The day drones on quickly and the moon had finally shown. The last light was blown out of the quiet cottage. Now he would make his move.

Moving quietly to ensure no sound was made that'd rouse suspicion, he lifted himself onto the bedroom window. There laid his beautiful Name. His lips curled into a smirk as he sat down softly onto the mattress. Making sure his impact was light enough to let the female sleep on. A thumb caressed the female's lips. So soft.. He thought as he leaned closer to the girl. It wouldn't hurt to kiss her while asleep now would it? Leaning closer, he pressed his lips on her own. Pulling away seconds later, he felt overjoyed with the feeling.

Her first kiss was his now! This was better than he had imagined.

Quite pleased with himself, a bubbling laughter nearly came out of him. Making sure to catch himself, his hand clapped onto his mouth. That was close. He had to be careful. It was far too early for her to meet him.

Rummaging through the things she had brought for the stay, he found a few papers. Much to his delight, it seemed she kept most of his letters, no not most, all of them it seemed. A caught smile came to his lips as he looked through her things. The smile slowly curled into a malicious smirk when he saw a letter that read about a death between some old male friends of hers. It seemed she had written a letter, but never sent it. Perhaps due to hesitation or embarrassment? It did not matter to him if she mourned for those bastards. After all he was the cause of their death.

They lingered with his beloved too much. To the point it drive him mad. He had made a simple offer. To break the female's heart and lose their friendship or lose their life. The idiots chose the latter, thinking they could fight him and received a gruesome death much to his amusement to say the least.

He enjoyed the looks on the males' faces when they realized who he was. They had dared choose fighting him, their death was merely their own fault. A sneer escaped from him at the thought. He truly 'hoped' the next ones would be wiser than the rest though there was doubt to laid in them.

Looking back at the female who continued sleeping on without a sense that she was in the presence of the person whom she found comfort in, he was two minded on this particular situation. Waking her up and finally revealing his appearance to her was a must, but so was keeping hidden in case her father accidentally captured him. As he paced back and forth unsure of his decision he finally snapped to reality. He'd choose the latter.

Easing himself out of the window slowly, he crept out quietly.

Another time would be best for such a meeting. He hoped by time they finally met, she'd be glad to accept him. If not well... There were more drastic measures to be used.

taglist?? (sorry for the tag)

@d10nsaint | @that-one-pretty-bitch | @jeweledflowers | @sidra-29

• I just tagged the ones who chose Eros in the monomania poll I made •

[fancifulplaguerat]

I have gathered my Maria and Nina thoughts, which unfortunately necessitated understanding the Kains’ fuckery, as Maria and Nina appear exemplary of the Kains’ practice of reincarnation and function of Memory and Focus. Particularly how Maria held Nina’s Memory in her own Focus but had to relinquish her soul to become a Mistress.

Maria claims outright, “My Focus, however, is dedicated to my mother,” and that “I can barely hold on to the memory of my mother… Two women are living in me now. […] Soon my father will take her away from me. Forever. […] My mother has found her ultimate shelter in my heart. I am the only one who still loves her and remembers her.” Grief and remembrance are associated with Foci, which can hold the Memory with which the Kains deal. Andrey even juxtaposes Maria’s grief with the implication that grief facilitated Peter’s success in creating a physical Focus (Polyhedron):

Andrey Stamatin: The Polyhedron is a mirror that preserves the reflection of the person that has looked into it the last. You know, when Nina died, Maria said she may never be able to cope with the grief… she started to pine away. That is when Focus was created [by Peter]. I don’t know how he managed to do it. I think that’s because he loved Nina so much. Anyway—he ended up creating a space she could inhabit. Can you imagine? You come into a room and can definitely feel that she’s there—as if you've simply turned away from her for a second... And you can talk to her.

This information is ordered as though Peter created the Focus because of Maria’s mourning, but it’s his love for Nina. Thus perhaps Peter and Maria created and dedicated respective Foci after Nina’s death on account of their pain. Perhaps Nina could reside in two Foci simultaneously because the Polyhedron reflects the soul, which does not appear synonymous with Memory. Georgiy says: “the dead linger inside us—their living counterparts […] the dead may be brought back to life by the focussed emotions of the living. It’s ludicrous how people picture a soul as an ethereal imitation of whoever it belonged to. It doesn’t even occur to them that a soul is more resemblant of music […] The more subtle a soul, the harder it is to retain it and reproduce it. It would require very special instruments.” Foci predate the Polyhedron, so it seems possible that Maria holds Nina’s Memory while the Polyhedron reflects it, but both are able to “focus” her soul enough to retain and thus reproduce it to varying extents. 

This may clarify Victor’s insistence that if the children do not leave the Polyhedron, “Maria could die. And my and Georgiy’s passing… would also be in vain. […] Because she will then be forced to become my successor. To take up what I currently guard and thus condemn herself to death, and our family to extinction. Maria will die—and the wondrous spirit whose memory we have so carefully passed on, will vanish into nothingness.” That ‘wondrous spirit’ likely references Simon—presumably he will vanish without the Polyhedron because no one living remembers him (Simon’s soul, not Simon); i.e. he has neither a living counterpart nor reflection capable of preserving his memory and accordingly his soul. As for Nina: how does this potentially enact Maria’s death?

My speculation is that it lies in the Kains’ method of reincarnation, which concerns “reproducing” rather than “retaining” the soul. Georgiy seemingly explains it through Eva’s death: “If someone decides to die so that someone else can live—their death will be imminent. There’s nothing to be done about it, for such sacrifice has consequences of immense magnitude,” which mirrors Victor saying, “You can’t even begin to imagine the immense power of voluntary self-sacrifice. Don’t you know there’ve been examples in history where someone living would give their life so that someone deceased could spent a little more time with their loved ones?” Kain reincarnation apparently functions through willing self-sacrifice of one’s life for another, and this seemingly reproduces the soul in another body. This explains why Maria managed to focus Nina’s soul and maintain her identity; even Victor seemingly did for a spell, given “To take up what I currently guard” and his voice line, “I’m strong enough to hold her indefinitely. Until Maria comes into power. But how long can Georgiy cling to Simon’s Memory?” This only becomes a death sentence when Victor and Georgiy decide to sacrifice themselves for Nina and Simon to temporarily live again. 

Concerning Maria’s death, perhaps by that time Maria could not merely retain Nina’s memory anymore, but would likewise be forced to reproduce it. As for the Kains’ extinction, it appears that Maria alone can accomplish the Kains’ objectives by ending the plague and founding a new utopia. Maria alludes to her role to Daniil: “I am a miserable woman, en-Daniil. You are the only person I will confess this to. I am a woman of power. A princess with an unbearable burden upon her shoulders—and no one to share it with… This weight is about to break me. Forever.” This ‘burden’ appears delineated when Maria says, “So if a miracle happens—if those who must remain alive by my design are still alive by tomorrow—if the merciless Powers That Be disregard us, they they used to; then we will be able to context the ruthless law of existence. The dream will prevail. There will be a new utopia.” The ‘ruthless law of existence’ presumably being the plague. Maria later says, “Don’t you see that this is my town now? I am the power here. I am the mother, and since I am to give birth to a new town, I want to witness the demise of the old one. This is my duty. I am the Last of the Kains.” Simon also says, “Maria will overpower the pestilence and restore the city.” The weight on Maria’s shoulders, then, does not seem confined to succeeding Nina; rather, to realize her family’s aims before their deaths, as “perishing, burning down, dissolving without a trace” is the Kains’ fate. 

Maria must succeed Nina for this, which is likely why she relinquishes Nina’s soul to Victor—to allow Nina to transfer her power to Maria. Maria says, “Soon I shall close my eyes… for several days… and then there will be a different me… a very different me… for now it’s Father who’s holding the scarlet lava in his chest—the lava that is to fill me to the brim… it will burn him… but oh how beautiful it is!” Similarly: “Tell [Peter] that I am turning into a Mistress. Tell him I can feel the scarlet lava. Tell him I am ready to accept it into my womb… Tell him my mother is looking at me now… I shall become her, I shall overcome her.” She finally tells Artemy, “You ought to know that in a matter of a few days my power will grow to its fullness, and I will reclaim all of the scintillae of magic now scattered across the Memory of my dear mother.” Fire is evidently allegorical to Maria/Nina’s power, and Artemy’s dialogue seemingly makes it literal that Maria is inheriting Nina’s abilities through the Memory which constitutes her soul. Maybe this is likewise implied in “I will become her;” though that could obviously just mean Maria ‘becomes’ Nina insofar as she does the Scarlet Mistress. Regardless, it seems Nina’s soul cannot remain intact for Maria to claim her full inherence, considering Victor claims that once Maria becomes a Mistress, “I don’t think she will ever talk to her mother again.”

I want to diverge a moment to examine how Maria is framed vis-à-vis her ascension/role as the last of the Kains. Katerina tells Clara, “I feel that the Kains’ plot was conceived in a different mind. It all comes from Maria.” Similarly, when Maria tells Artemy that she admires Georgiy’s sacrifice for Simon, Artemy replies, “The twinkle in your eye betrays the truth. You made him do it!” Likewise Daniil: “Maria is quite content with the way things stand now. If Georgiy and Victor sacrifice themselves to the memory of their departed—guess who gets to rule?” This reads as though Maria orchestrated her family’s death to claim the their power, but that feels odd to me. Firstly because this was clearly a group effort—Nina claims that Maria is in charge because “We have transferred our power to her. Or do you doubt her entitlement to it?”

Secondly, while Maria seems haughty, she never struck me as personally power-hungry. She appears entirely committed to using her ability to found a utopia, but that is her entire family’s communal objective. She tells Daniil, “It’s time for me to start fulfilling my duty. Seems like my time has come, Bachelor Dankovsky!” but when he asks “What are you going to do?” she says, “Oh, I don’t know yet… It’ll become apparent soon. For now I want to stay alone. I’ll be sleeping. I want to dream about Mother and Simon. I want to ask them questions.” Maria’s character concept also claims she “doesn’t have a firm goal in mind. She is always in the state of some sort of trance.” So, while Maria certainly has designs for her utopia, it seems her plans were a cumulative effort informed by her family, not Maria scheming to pick off her relatives for personal ambition. I think Peter provides a more measured interpretation: “Maria has successfully executed an intricate scheme. Involuntarily, perhaps… but what’s done is done. […] You are aware that Victor and Georgiy are already dead, right?”

Returning to Maria’s inheritance, everyone appears convinced that Maria’s ability will exceed Nina’s. Aglaya says, “She will turn into a warlock queen and make the town bend before her tyranny. Like Nina before her, only even more frightening,” and Andrey claims, “I’d say the brilliance of her talent is going to surpass even Nina’s one day.” Khan, Maria, and Katerina explain her superiority that nobody will be able to oppose or balance Maria’s power. Khan claims, “I am afraid of my sister. She will grow stronger than Mother, who used to be held back by Father. This is why her power had brought more good than evil. And Victoria Sr., Ursa Major, was also alive back then. Who is to hold Maria back now?” Likewise Maria: “I have no husband to hold me back like my father did my mother.” Finally Katerina: “It took all of us to hold Nina the Terrible back—Victoria, me, and even the Kains themselves. Little Victoria will not be able to stand up to Maria on her own; I will not be staying in this world for much longer; and Victor adores her...” It then seems relatively straightforward that Maria will have greater power because she is unchallenged, but for the sake of speculation, I wonder if it’s because Maria is a locus for two sources of creation: the Mistresses and the Kains.

Mistresses are associated with motherhood, what with Maria discussing her womb as her power’s point of entry. Similarly, how Victor says when she becomes a Mistress, “The joy could not be greater if she were to become a mother,” which parallels Maria’s description of herself as the new town’s mother. Simon further says, “Maria has long been waiting for her time to come. Soon she will ascend to power and become the Mistress of Flames, as her mother once was. The blessed, blossoming Chaos, a nourishing source of growth, creativity and love, the gracious womb of a future life…” The Mistresses’ association with motherhood ties them to creation, perhaps a ‘human’ counterpart to the divine-aligned creation in Bos Turokh, Clara, and potentially the Kains. That is, the power to defy the Law is literally in the Kains’ blood—they have the same cells as Bos Turokh and Clara, both of whom are joined to divinity: Bos Turokh is a god, and Clara claims her healing abilities are from God. Saburov claims that “[The Kains’] radiant blood has preserved the memory of ancient magic […] there is still within them a spark of the flame that burned in deities and heroes born into a mythical era.” Andrey similarly explains, “Every Kain possesses this gift—the ability to see the unseen and achieve the unachievable. This art doesn’t have a name because very few people have mastered it.” So perhaps the Mistress’ creative faculties evoke the more human, physical capacity for creation as opposed to the divine power remnant in the Kains’ blood. Hence why Maria has power even Nina did not: she has the heritage of both ‘human’ and ‘divine’ creation, for want of better phraseology.

Lastly, I want to look at Maria’s actual behavior as a Mistress. Maria initially holds to Nina’s example and legitimacy; for example, when she threatens the Stamatins she says, “Tell them that if they do not wish to drink a cup of Nina Kaina’s daughter’s wrath, they will sit quietly at home!” A slight detail, but Maria’s threat centres Nina’s power rather than her own; this feels relevant considering that Peter claims, “[Maria] loves her mother too much. She tries to imitate Nina’s style.” Maria obviously emphatically loves Nina, and is perhaps further convinced in her infallibility: “Mother hated compromises. That’s why it all worked for her.” Maria potentially considered Nina unerring, which may inform Maria’s notions of how Mistresses should behave—particularly that she cannot doubt herself or even be afraid.

For one, Maria insists “I’m incapable of doubting my premonitions… or else too many people will suffer.” Though, this also seems connected to Maria’s need to position herself as the preeminent Mistress, as Capella says “If I let [Maria] see that I doubt my own abilities, it will give her a great advantage. We’re rival Mistresses, and these are crucial days. The Mistress that shows herself the most capable of all is the one that will be entitled to wield Power.” Maria reinforces this to Clara: “You are not a particularly strong Mistress if you ask questions like this… you are doubting your claim” and “This cannot be… Fear is not your kind of emotion; or else what good of a Mistress are you?” Self-doubt consequently appears incompatible with a Mistress’ power, which… Fucked up, frankly. More so because Maria likely considered Nina well-able to meet this demand, and believes any self-doubt will jeopardize her claim to power and consequently ability to fulfill her duty. Maybe that is another reason Maria tries to follow Nina’s lead. 

A last thought that bothers me, though: is this all worth it? Maria claims, “Perishing, burning down, dissolving without a trace—this is my family’s destiny. It happened to my mother; it happened to Simon. Tomorrow Georgiy dies, and my father will fade out in a week. And in ten years, when my town is complete, I will pass on in the same fashion.” The Kains incited Plague with their defiance of the Law/utopia, but what is the guarantee the new one won’t suffer the same fate further down the line? Yes, it’s *implied* that Maria’s utopia will be different in the Bachelor Route, but Patho is so emphatic that utopia can never survive, so. Unsure. But I do want to end on one bright note: how the Town children talk about Maria. They say, “Keep her safe, will you? She’s a bit odd, but really nice. I’d be glad if she ruled over us. Then our life would be beautiful, engaging, and—most importantly—adventurous! She can transport us all into a wonderland,” and “I’m so fond of Maria! She shines from the inside and she’s all magical!” I just find it sweet that the kids think of Maria like this, potentially how they saw Nina :,)

[bestiarium]

The Caladrius [Medieval Europe]

Medieval European bestiaries mention a wondrous bird called the Caladrius. This creature is completely white, having no black spot anywhere on its body. What makes this bird so special, however, is its extraordinary ability to recognize diseases: if the bird is placed on the bed of a sick patient, it will assess the symptoms. If the patient is beyond saving, the bird will turn its head around. If the person can still be saved, however, the Caladrius will look right at the patient and magically absorb the disease in its own body, curing the patient on the spot but tainting its own white feathers.

The bird would then fly towards the sun to rid itself of whatever disease it had absorbed, burning it off his body, and when it came back its feathers would be white again. The Caladrius could usually be found in royal palaces. In addition, its dung could be used as a medicine against blindness.

Of course, when talking about medieval bestiaries, an important distinction needs to be made: as is the case with many of the wondrous and magical creatures described in these tomes, the author didn’t genuinely believe in the existence of this bird. Rather, it is a religious metaphor for Christ: the implication being that the Messiah is without sin (which is why the Caladrius bird is specifically mentioned to have no black parts). The part about the bird turning its head away from a patient who could not be saved is a reference to Christ turning away from the Jewish people (according to the Aberdeen bestiarium, that is) because they did not believe in the right fate. Jesus takes our sins and burns hem away, like how the magical bird takes peoples’ sickness and erases it.

To be honest, I find it really interesting how religious messages were weaved into metaphors like that, some of which were more subtle than others.

Source: The Aberdeen bestiary, 12th century, which you can read here. (image source 1: Aberdeen Bestiary, 12th century) (image source 2: “Bestiary, with extracts from Giraldus Cambrensis on Irish birds” accessed on the British Library’s ‘Catalogue of Illuminated Manuscripts’)

[kamesama]

Anything with Kaolan please, that man looks like sex and it is criminal how little there is about him.

bruh, i took way too long with this. but yes, i agree 100%. gaolang is such a husband material, i love him so much. thank you for requesting him <3

— moments after: gaolang wongsawat.

— notes + warnings: post-coital bliss; gaolang's making you a snack. just tenderness; very small suggestive implications but nothing scandalous, really; domestic fluff bcs i'm domestic fluff provider™. — word count: 339

your feet dangled as your hands gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. with lips still reddened and just a little swollen from being so loved-up, you hummed quietly, admiring the wondrous expanse of gaolang’s broad back. his dark hair remained uncharacteristically loose and out of the confinements of its usual style — it made the entire scene all the more intimate, all the more yours.

it’d grown mild — and replaced by the whiff of something utterly delicious that it nearly made you salivate — but the subtle scent of his hot skin and sweat remained stuck within your nostrils, leaving you vaguely infatuated and thoroughly satisfied. perhaps it was just a faint remnant of him from the white button-up you’ve lazily draped around your form for the sake of maintaining some decency.

sliding off the counter, you wrapped your arms around gaolang’s frame; feeling every hardened muscle underneath the pads of your fingers, underneath your cheek. you trailed your hands across his breasts, running across what would be the bedding of his pumping heart; you felt it beat rhythmically. steady. it seemed to kick just a little quicker for a second or two, making gaolang’s face grow a faint shade of red, before calming down. you placed an innocent kiss against his spine; a messenger that serenaded of your affections and gratitude. 

“are you impatient, darling?” gaolang inquired. there was a tender desire in him to plant a kiss to your hairline, but you seemed too comfortable at his back. he decided to postpone his own affectionate gesture for when he served you your morsel, “it’s almost done.”

“nuh-uh… you’re just comfy, my love,” you uttered, and you knew that it made his lips tug upwards in a little arch. you knew it made his face grow hotter, “besides, i’m not that hungry…” you murmured, and in that very moment, a thunderous growl rippled from within your stomach almost comically.

an amused huff left gaolang’s lips as he took one of your hands to his lips, “almost done. i promise.”

thank you for reading!

— kamesama.

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 24 - Scams, Crimes, and Tentacles

She is so happy cleaning that fish!

This has... so many implications for Ecaflips...? Like... Hm.

By the way: this episode has a very cat-ish Kerubim. This moment is only the beginning, and god bless whoever is responsible for this.

This episode's intro is everything to me.

Imagine your boss, who you are on vous-vous basis (and in my language's translation of the show, a vous-tu uneven basis, where Kerubim uses tu for her, unlike the original french, where he uses vous. Just want to pepper in that I guess french and my language have slightly different dynamics for Keke and Simone. Top ten insane asides that will not make sense for the english-only-speaking readers.) climbing your legs over fish and meowing loudly.

Imagine having to be like...

"MISTER KERUBIM, WILL YOU(FORMAL) STOP CLAWING AT ME AND MEOWING."

The World of Twelve is such a wondrous place...

There are... so many implications. And I have no fucking idea where to even begin.

Simone is just like a real cat owner here, giving up like that.

What an evil fucking cat.

They're so fucking funny it's insane.

JORIS'S STREAK OF BEING MEAN CONTINUES.

HE IS SO PLEASED WITH HIMSELF??

Perhaps in part it is because he knew that the guy would start talking about what this thing is immediately. They're both very good at manipulating each other.

"Me too, mister Crepin!" Joris is... so funny. And he is definitely learning this doubting Kerubim stuff from Simone.

No comment. Joris looked cute.

Also no comment here. Kerubim looked cute. Sorry.

Kerubim kitty moments... 2! He's even doing the biscuit paw thing.

So many implications about Ecaflips in this episode...

Yet another Dice Moment.

Kerubim kitty moment 3. This episode is a gift that keeps on giving.

Bliss is so short-lived in this cruel world.

Fuck this squid in particular.

1. I'm pretty sure rogues live in a clan-based society, so I would call "all the rogues in the world" a very far stretch. It's probably more like... "all the rogues in the same clan/family as these two."

2. This episode has aged in such a funny way when you remember that, pointedly, Kerubim, Atcham, and Joris do get robbed by rogues. That's a pretty big thing that happens. I know 600 years is a long time, but still. Kinda makes everything funnier.

...Man. I love studying crepinlore.

[tinietaehyun]

Join Me, Won’t You?

[MarchHare!Hueningkai x Lost!Reader] [One-Shot] [Wondrous Tales Series]

Pairing: MarchHare!Hueningkai x Lost!reader

Genre(s): Fantasy, dark fantasy, supernatural, dark romance, action.

Contains: Profanity, manipulation, coercion, mentions/implications of death or injury, sedation, binding, possessive behaviour, suggestive themes, dialogue-heavy.

Links: Masterlist || Wondrous Tales Masterlist

Note: Thanks for the patient wait! <3

Summary: Gasping and panting raggedly for breath, you seemed to have done good by sliding down the fluorescent tunnel as a last resort! The King’s guards almost caught you!

What a maniac he was! How could someone be so obsessive? Your heart rate slows as you peer around, huh, this area seemed secluded. You deem it should be safe to take some rest here. Right? Goodness, you couldn’t trust this place at all! Little by little you feel your sanity tearing away.

“Oh? Who’s wandered into my little grove? Another guest for my tea party?” Your head snaps up seeing a tall man, with a coy grin as he clicks his tongue, walking towards you, “Oh you must be the pretty little guest I’ve heard so much about…oh then, join me, won’t you? For my little tea party?”

You had a feeling you couldn’t refuse even if you wanted to.

Coughing and spluttering as you clamber through the tunnel like your life depends on it, you finally spot a halo of light towards the surface. With a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins, you make your way upwards and heave yourself above just as you hear the final chunks of soil crumble and fall sealing off the burrow.

Fuck. You sit on the fluffy purple grass panting heavily as though you had run a marathon. Sweat drips down your forehead to which you wipe off with your arm and you grimace feeling your lungs burn and legs ache; you look at your arms and legs seeing the scratches and dirt.

That was terrifying! You almost got buried alive! After a few minutes, you compose yourself and stand up wearily attempting to make sense of your new wacky surroundings. Muttering, you begin to walk around, “The fuck am I going to get into this time?”

Your eyes are drawn to a bright yellow arrow on a sign board. Several actually, of numerous colours all pointing in one direction. You gaze below seeing haphazardly hanging bunting and old party decorations which seemed to be decaying into the ground. Broken tea cups, paper plates, napkins.

Goodness… A shudder goes through you. Surely…you hadn’t truly ended up at the Hatter, did you? You wanted to avoid that madman at all costs from what you heard about him!

You eye the arrows again, it was perhaps best to never follow them, after all in Wonderland, nothing is as it seems. You peer at the bright pink bushes and grimace, maybe you could stray off the path a little. Pushing through the bushes, you begin to make your own way through this new space.

You weren’t exactly sure if this was a good idea or whether you were just getting yourself even more lost. But anything was better than Yeonjun! What a maniac he was! How could someone be so obsessive? After a few minutes, your eyes widen seeing an opening in the foliage and you push your way through with a glimmer of hope. You once again spot the sun stuck in the same spot in the sky, painting the opening with an oddly comforting golden hue.

Your heart rate slows as you peer around, huh, this area seems to be secluded. You deem it should be safe to take some rest here. Right? Goodness, you couldn’t trust this place at all! Little by little you feel your sanity tearing away.

You regard a mossy boulder beside a broken sign which seems to read “This Way!” Your heart drops. Another sign? Even though you strayed off the path…? This place was horrid!

Your legs were beginning to hurt even more; just a little break, that’s all you wanted. You decide to settle on the boulder with an exasperated sigh; your hand rests on your forehead as you pitifully attempt to relax in the godforsaken place.

After a mere moment of silence, a bright voice destroys your peace, “Oh? Who’s wandered into my little grove? Another guest for my tea party?” Your head snaps up seeing a tall man, with a coy grin as he clicks his tongue, walking towards you, “Oh, you must be the pretty little guest I’ve heard so much about…oh then, join me, won’t you? For my little tea party?”

Regarding him with a blank gaze, you remain silent and stiff. He tilts his head before letting out a cackle which startles you. His eyes…they twinkle with mischief, his wide smile. His umber hair sprawls haphazardly over his forehead, sharp, chiseled features which had your heart fluttering. A red diamond on his left cheekbone catches your eye. His jawline dangerously sharp with thin lips that always seemed to be in a permanent coy smile. Who was he?

The vibrant grass bristles as he takes a large step forward. You note his formal attire, indeed suitable for a tea party. A white satin shirt and beige waistcoat with brown rabbit ears embroidered below one of the breast pockets. A rabbit? Another one? A small black iron key, tiny in fact, hangs like a charm on his necklace.

The mysterious man seems to enjoy your expression of confusion as you regard him intently as he grins, “Does my appearance, please you so, precious?” He skips on over and your eyes widen as he brazenly looks you over, walking around you and observing you from all angles as if you were some museum exhibit.

“Mm,” he hums, intrigued and your breath hitches as his gloved hand grips your chin tilting it up. Goodness, he was comically tall, even from where you were sitting or were you just incredibly short? You stand up instinctively and grimace, seeing his towering height.

The male smirks, his thumb brushing over your lower lip as his eyes gleam flirtatiously, “Hm, well, aren’t you a pretty thing? A sight for sore eyes even, the last one was so dreary to look at, you know? I’m glad there’s still pretty ones like you that still stumble in here.”

You pry his hand off, shoving it away with a glare, “Who are you and what do you want?” A blatantly loud cackle escapes his lips and his eyes widen manically, “Oh come on! It’s always the same question with you guests! Lighten up! Why always think so pessimistically, precious?”

Snapping, you respond, “Oh I don’t know, maybe getting hunted down by the King of Hearts? Seeing someone innocent get dragged away to be beheaded? Not knowing any way out of this deranged place?”

He goes momentarily silent placing an almost sympathetic hand on your shoulder, leaning down with a frown and you wearily lean back before he startles you with a loud guffaw. You turn around with a grumbling mutter; you weren’t going to waste your time.

A yelp escapes you as a hand grips your shoulder and abruptly spins you around. You crash into a firm chest, your nostrils filled with sweet scent, hints of ginger, peppermint, maybe caramel?

You tilt your head upwards to see him with a bright smile unfazed by your attitude. His fingers slide down your arm before interlocking with yours, “Oh precious, don’t be like that. It hurts my delicate feelings, you know? Don’t tell me you plan to leave without attending my tea party.”

He sighs dramatically, “It’s been ages since I’ve had anyone but the Hatter attend my tea party and the Mice of course. I think even once the Caterpillar did, only once. He didn’t really like the pranks I played, but that’s besides the point.”

Before you could respond to the barrage of words that made absolutely no sense to you, he interrupts with wide eyes and a gasp, grabbing your wrist and dragging you with him.

“Hey-!“ you struggle helplessly, your feet skidding and stumbling in the grass. His grip is unforgivably tight and he seems to overpower you with ease as he resumes, “How so, so, so, rude of me! I never even introduced myself to you precious, goodness it’s been so long since I’ve entertained a guest, I’ve apparently forgotten my manners! Forgive me.”

You grit out, “I don’t care- let me go!” He releases a delightful chuckle, ignoring your struggle and plea with a blissful expression, “In Wonderland I am the March Hare, or more personally, Kai.” Briefly, he peers over his shoulder to see you still pulling and tugging against his hand and he snickers, “You’re quite adorable when you struggle like that, you must have really gained the King’s fervour.”

You stiffen, heart racing, how did he know? Kai smiles widely, “Oh don’t panic, you’ve come to the right place, that pompous ruler of ours never attends my tea parties no matter how many invites I send him. Hmph, perhaps he prefers the Hatter’s more grand-scale tea parties. Huh, or maybe it’s my games he doesn’t like. Whatever, I don’t really care for his presence.”’

“Now that I think about it, it really has been a long time since I’ve had a guest. The King is so, so, selfish! He kills those he doesn’t like? Why not just send them my way? I’m not mean like him, so you don’t need to worry.” His words begin to blur out as you try to register the onslaught of information.

A giggle escapes his lips, “I’m just a lonely Hare, always having tea alone with occasional mice and egregious Hatter. How boring, you’d think I’d have gone insane?” Kai bursts out laughing, startling you.

Wasn’t he already insane? Goodness if this is supposed to be sane here, then what was considered insane here? You grimace and your eyes widen as you take in the new surroundings.

A shriek escapes your lips as you see several clothed mice scurry past your legs and you stumble into Kai’s back. He chuckles, “Oh it seems you’ve spooked the mice. Or, they’ve spooked you,” another crazed little laugh leaves his lips. Kai picks one up by the tail shoving it in front of your face making you scream and stumble back. What the actual fuck?

He cackles at your reaction, “Not a fan of mice? What a shame. Imagine how I feel then?” He carelessly tosses it down with a squeak and you flinch. Oh god, what have you gotten yourself into?

Kai leans down with a deep gaze, “But it’s okay, I’ve got you now, to entertain and not these pipsqueaks I call guests! You, you, you, are much better, aren’t you, precious?” A wave of unease and fear runs through your body. You had to get out of here. Surely, nothing could be as bad as the King of Hearts?

With a grand spin and skip, he snaps his fingers and as if by magic, several twinkling lights and little lanterns (with unfortunate fireflies trapped inside) begin illuminating, giving the area a warm glow. Your eyes process the tea party set up.

There was a long mismatched table set, beneath a whimsical tree with vibrant, oversized flowers, wrapped with various string lights and colourful bunting. The tablecloth is a patchwork of different colours and patterns which clash. The tea cups are an assortment of shapes and sizes with a grand teapot with its spout shaped and painted like a purple elephant’s trunk. What the hell?

The chairs are quirky, unstable, some that wobble and the legs twist into weird shapes. There’s an eclectic mix of wacky treats, most notably the enormous scones, cakes with impossible layers and…giant sandwiches? Fucking hell, you’d believe you were on drugs if it weren’t for everything that happened earlier!

“Like it?” Kai asks, over-excited. You grimace, “It’s certainly…something.” Rolling his eyes, he grabs your arm, dragging you towards one of the chairs and you hiss, “Wait-!”

He pulls out a chair and gestures with a tilt of his head to sit. You huff, “No way.” Kai grins at you, placing his hands on both of your shoulders, “I’m all for playing hard to get, I can work with you, precious.” You yelp as he shoves you down onto the seat and pushes the chair with you on it against the table roughly, rattling everything on it making the remaining mice scatter.

Kai pushes several plates of food and some cutlery towards you and brightly hums, “Eat, eat, up! You need energy.” Looking at the food, your stomach doesn’t rumble, in fact, you feel sick.

“Oh precious, are you worried I poisoned it? I get it, your fears are justified. The King likes to do that doesn’t he? Remember I'm not cruel like the king?” His assurance doesn’t seem to alleviate your anxiety at all.

You murmur nervously, “Really, I’m not hungry.” He takes one of the cupcakes on the table, peeling off the striped wrapper and takes a massive bite; the chocolate smearing on his lips. After swallowing, he wipes his lips with a pink napkin, “See? Nothing happened to me? Tastes really good, precious.”

You gaze down at one of the plates presented and see a slice of chocolate cake and some biscuits on another plate. Meanwhile, Kai takes the liberty to pour you some tea in a comically large cup. This all feels disorienting to you. He urges once more, “Go on, don���t be shy, eat away, to your heart's content. Come on! Don’t make me say it thrice!”

With shaky hands you pick up the cake slice, you bring it to your lips. Kai watches you with great anticipation and you bite down. A burst of rich, creamy chocolate flavour bursts in your mouth brimming with ecstasy. Fuck, it tastes so good! What the hell?

Kai’s lips form a sly smile, “Oh? I saw that twinkle in your eyes. You like it, don’t you?” You shake your head, your mouth still full with cake. This damn cake!

A grin forms, “Oh? Are you embarrassed? I’ll have you know, this cake was once the favourite of the King. But he stole my recipe and now makes it at the palace,” Kai huffs.

You take another bite and he coos, “Just like that, you have no idea how happy it makes me to spoil my dearest, pretty guests.” If there was poison in this, no doubt it tasted good. Well, if there was one way to go out, this would be it. But oddly enough, as you continue to eat, nothing happens. So you take more, a biscuit there, a bite of a scone here, a touch of cream, a cupcake, some toffee and a sip of tea.

Your stomach feels full, incredibly so. In fact you hadn’t eaten since you arrived. How was everything on this wild table so good? Kai had helped himself to his own food alongside you, talking on and on, badmouthing the king, the Hatter and the mice.

Yawning, you sigh, feeling tired. Perhaps you’d gotten carried away with your food fest. Shit…did you over indulge yourself? It had been awhile… and it tasted so good. It’s not so wrong is it?

“And then I said to him..” Kai’s voice becomes muffled and your vision darkens as your eyes flutter shut. Just… a little nap.

Kai stops talking and peers at you fondly. “What a pretty sleeping face, it touches my heart.” He walks over cupping your cheek and he snickers seeing the slight smear of frosting on your lips and he wipes it off with his thumb. “How endearing, indeed. I could just eat you up, precious.” He takes another moment to gaze over your features, lingering a little longer on your parted lips, before shaking his head with a smile.

How quaint indeed…

A warm fuzzy feeling envelops you and you smile at ease. Was this all just a horrific nightmare? Were you finally going to wake up back in your bed at home?

With a croaky groan, your eyes flutter open, light filling your gaze. You peer around and go to move when you feel a constraint against your wrists, they’re bound together. A shriek escapes your lips, “What the fuck? What’s this-?” You regard the pink silk ribbon tied around your wrists with delicate care with a pretty bow on top.

It may not have been poison but it was a sedative! Shit. Your head pounds as you see double of everything, as if one wasn’t enough for your overstimulated brain!

A laugh reverberates and you turn your head to see the March Hare in all his glory with a gleaming, illustrious smile, as he tugs at the hem of his gloves. “Ah, you’ve awoken, precious. How soundly you slept, I could get used to seeing such a sight daily.”

You snarl, “You maniac! What have you done?” He snickers, “Oh? What’s with the sour mood? Woke up on the wrong side of bed?” You snap, “Oh fuck off! Release me, I’ve indulged you haven’t I? I ate your fucking cake and desserts, what have I done to deserve this?”

Kai pouts at the use of your profanity, “Ah, ah, ah, no improper words at my tea party, this is a place of decorum after all. Only the Hatter’s Parties are so frivolous!”

You sneer, “Oh tying your guests hands together is considered decorum now, is it?” Kai snickers leaning down behind your chair, his lips close to your ear, “Be thankful I didn’t tie your legs together too. But hm, you raise a point. One that I won’t take into account, because,” he walks to the left of you with an extravagant wave of his hands, “My party, my rules!”

You seethe and he coos, “Oh don’t look at me like that, you’ll make me like you even more! How cute you look when you’re so frustrated!” His words send a tornado of anger surging through you. The sheer audacity of this man!

Rolling his eyes, he teeters as he walks around the table, “Anyway,” he snickers, “I didn’t kill you did I? Poison you? Stab you? You should be thanking me actually! If I were the Hatter, I’d have you hanging upside down on that tree over there gagged and swinging like a pendulum on a grandfather clock.”

You shiver at the thought, holy shit. This was insane! He hums, crossing his arms, “After all, I like my share of fun. What makes you think I’d just be content at seeing my little guest eat away? Sure that’s enlightening, but I want,” he approaches you once more, leaning down, placing his hands on either side of the armrests of the chair, caging you in, “…some real fun.”

His eyes beam into yours sending a dark shudder through you as his lips morph into a manic, just a little too-wide of a grin, “You can give me that can’t you? You’ve been good for me so far, haven’t you? You won’t die. None of my guests die! Well, unless they try to leave and break the rules I set, then let’s just say, I… put them out of commission for a while!”

Out of commission? Break the rules? Leave? What the fuck! Oh, he was deranged in his own twisted way. You definitely had to get out here!

Kai frowns, stepping back with a huff, “You don’t get it do you! Everyone always tries to leave! So that’s why I’ve bound your wrists! I give my guests so much freedom and it always backfires!” His eyes widen immensely as he grasps your shoulders shaking you with ferocity, “You can’t blame a Hare for becoming lonely? I just want someone to have tea and play with!”

For the first time you see hesitation, panic, anxiety in his brown eyes, causing your breath to hitch. “You’re different right? I can just tell, you’re not like the other pathetic losers that come here! You made it past THE Red King of Hearts, you’re definitely special!” His rambling makes your head spin.

“You liked the desserts and food right? I can make more. The fun will never end! We can play all my games, and it won’t even have any dire consequences, I just want someone to entertain me. I know you might be a little angry…but I'm sure you’ll calm down soon enough, won’t you?” He splutters with a manic gaze, shaking you further and you yell, “Stop!”

Kai freezes, breaking out of his rambling and manic muttering to peer into your frightened gaze and he coos softly, “Goodness, look at me rambling again, my apologies, I do this quite often with those I’m comfortable with. I- I- promise I’ll try to keep it in check.” He laughs brokenly, “Ah, you’ll have to get used to that. Don’t want you getting sick of me, would we?”

Too late for that, you think. Wait…get used to it? You stiffen. He wouldn’t let you leave. Like forever?

“…So I can’t leave your tea party?” You stammer. His brows furrow and he smiles, “Why would you? I’ve got everything here? And who knows when the next guest will arrive? The King probably wouldn’t even let them come here. Or they’d be stupid, and die on the way. Why take my chances when I have you already?” He speaks as though none of his words were deranged.

Shakily, you utter, “But…my home? I don’t belong here. I picked up that invitation by accident!” You splutter further, panic running through your system, “T-Think about it, always having the same guest, you’ll get bored of me, like you got bored of the Mice and the Hatter!”

Kai remains silent for a moment and a smirk appears on his lips as he suddenly cups your jaw, “Aw, are you trying the king’s method of reverse psychology? How adorable.”

Your face pales and lips quiver, “K-Kai, please. You have a heart, you’re sane right? You’re better than the King in all respects, you’ve treated me well and haven’t hurt me so far? Please,” you plead in desperation.

He clicks his tongue, “Tsk, tsk, none of that from you. Keep those pretty lips sealed, won’t you? I’ve finally got the one thing I’ve been wanting for a long time and you think your meager pleas will melt my heart and I’ll just let you go so I can be in solitude once more? Please!” Kai lets out a crazed laugh throwing his head back and clutching his stomach.

“Oh precious, no one’s really like you at all! Here you are, legs unbound yet you’re asking me so politely to leave instead of bolting off with tied wrists!” Kai cackles. Your shoulders droop and you frown.

You weren’t stupid, you knew you could run. But you didn’t want to find out the horrendous consequences of such an action. After all, he said he doesn’t like breaking the rules.

“I’ve got so much in store for you, if you managed to surpass the King, then your brain up there must surely be big, hm?” Kai grins, pressing the tip of his index finger to the center of your forehead and you flinch.

Muttering under your breath, you say, “I just want to go home.” Kai freezes and a dark expression crosses his face, “Home? Don’t be daft. This is your home now. Why in Wonderland would you return to that dismal place you call home? Tell me does your home have Giant Tulips and Neon Roses? Games galore?”

You snap, “I’ve had enough!” Your voice cracks, “I’m exhausted.” He groans dramatically, “Oh don’t be like that, you just woke up! I’ve worked so hard to set up some games for you. Well, that’s the one thing I can be better at than the Hatter at.”

“Games?” You sigh with a shriveled expression. You didn’t want to play his stupid games. With a mighty clap of his hands, he starts, “So! Let’s play!” Your mind whirrs, you had to get out of here, otherwise you’d be perpetually stuck here! Think, think, think Y/n! He resumes over-excited, “The first game is Shrink Maze!”

All of a sudden, dozens of dressed-up mice climb the table and push all the cutlery, napkins, holders, plates and dishes into what seems to be a maze. What did you just witness?

“Well done little ladies and gents,” Kai titters. Reaching into his pocket, he brings out a tiny vial filled with purple liquid. “Drink this nifty little thing and you’ll become the size of a mouse. Convenient right? I always did like becoming a tiny, put the entire world into a new perspect-“

You had it! All games had prizes! You just had to beat his games and make sure he had no way of refusing you! Your eyes scan around as he rambles on. There was a small iron gate with a faded red arrow. Through the foliage you see the billowing checkered valleys that lay ahead. That had to be your way out! It had to be, either way it was a chance you were willing to take!

Kai’s eyes narrow as he sees your line of sight and he leans down with a smirk, “Ah, ah, ah, looking to escape are we? That’s the Hatter’s territory precious, I don’t think your mind will handle his insanity.”

Oh whatever, yes, yes, you got the drill by now. Who said you actually had to meet the Hatter? You’d take your chances; you made it this far haven’t you? But you had confirmed one thing. That gate was indeed the exit out of the Hare’s Tea Party Grove.

He hums amused, “Even if you somehow staggered over there without me seeing, you’d only find it locked and the key is only in one place that only I know. So…too bad!” He lets out a wavering guffaw making you flinch.

You hum defiantly, “Your games. I’ll play. On one condition. A winner’s reward.” Kai tilts his head intrigued by your proposition, “Oh? Feeling cocky are we? What makes you think I’d agree to such terms then, precious?”

“You like games, and I’m sure after this long and many guests. You like winning them. Outsmarting your guests. Outwitting them. Seeing them struggle,” you firmly speak, gazing into his eyes with a racing heart.

“Huh,” he muses, folding his arms, eyes twinkling in amusement, “Very astute of you to observe such a thing. I do. I do like winning. I do like seeing my guests fumble about and lose.” With a shaky breath, you proclaim, “If I lose, I’ll stay. I’ll stay with you. Forever. We’ll have tea forever. If I win..”

He sharply interrupts you, “Which you won’t-“ you interrupt him back, “If I do, then you’ll grant me freedom. The key to that gate over there.” Kai throws his head back laughing; his fist slams on the table making the mice squeak as he finds your words the funniest someone has ever uttered.

“You’re bold, you know that? No wonder you made it past the King.” Your jaw clenches and your hands become clammy. Bite the bait! Kai utters with a sly grin, “Fine, I suppose I do love to win. I’ll bite,” he leans down startling you, “The bait I mean, not you. Unless…” “No-“ you sharply utter with a glare making him cackle.

“I do look forward to seeing you fumble and flap about.” You scoff, “As if.” With a leap behind you, he pulls you up, “Up, up, up, I’m getting bored from all this talking. As I was saying, Shrink Maze! See this lovely maze my mice friends have set up for you. You have to make it through to the exit.”

You glance at the maze. Seemed easy enough, you already had found the way out, simple. You could win this easily. All of a sudden, he grabs your jaw and presses the vial to your lips, “Spit it out and I’ll dislocate your jaw open into a permanent laugh,” he warns.

Your eyes widen, body tensing as the sickeningly sweet liquid slides down your throat. A tingle appears in your fingers and soon spreads like wildfire across your body. All of a sudden you feel lightweight and you find yourself tiny falling towards the now ginormous table, screaming.

Kai cackles, catching you in his hand and you tremble seeing his sheer size and dark gaze, “How cute you are, I could just crush you in the palm of my hand. Smoosh.” He drops you down onto the table and the monstrously sized cups, plates and decorations tower over you. You couldn’t see shit now! You didn’t even memorise the maze, fuck!

With a twisted smile, “Go on now, make your way through the maze.” With shaking limbs, you walk into the maze. Okay… you do recall having to take the first right and then one left, but that’s about it. So, you do just that. As you’re at a junction, you freeze hearing a terrifyingly loud squeak.

Kai’s voice resounds, “Oh sorry, I forgot to mention, the mice will be playing too. I did tell them that they’d get a nice chunk of cheese if they caught you, so I do apologise if they are tad aggressive, precious.” Thudding footsteps resound and you release a piercing shriek as you see a furry enemy turn the corner towards you sniffing and squeaking.

Fuck this! You hiss seeing your bound wrists, it made running so much harder! With your utmost you go straight, take a left, another left and another right. You had no fucking clue where you were heading? Another set of footsteps vibrate the table and tears brim your eyes.

Kai grins, “Oh dear, seems you’re at a dead end. Should I point them in the right direction, they’re only a wall away from you precious?” You snarl pint-sized, “Shut up!” Another squeak resounds.

You had to be quiet, they hadn’t found you here yet. You wrack your brains viciously. You peer up seeing the gargantuan decorations and chairs, back at Huening Kai. Hm, if you took into account their positions. Kai was East, you were the closest to him, so you were on the East of the maze. The exit was near the third chair of the table. Yes, yes! Maybe you could do this!

With your body and mind working overtime, you use the position of the humongous furniture, items and surroundings to help locate yourself and find your way through.

A shrewd shriek echoes and you scream seeing another mouse charging towards you from the right and your eyes flick around. You were this close, you were not going to let some furry nuisance ruin that! You couldn’t lose no matter what! The billowing napkin catches your eye and with speed, you grab it and hoist it above you charging towards it, the cloth flapping and puffing under the wind. The mice adorning an apron squeaks, eyes widened with confusion and fear and scurries off. Despite its size, it was still a skittish mouse!

A disapproving click of the tongue is heard from above - Kai. You let out a delirious laugh, your idea was stupid, stupid enough to work in this dreadful place!

“Ugh, how dreadful. Stupid mice,” he mutters with an irritated glare. Running, you take another right; the third chair now towering over you. It was right there! You grin widely seeing the path only turn right and with all your might you sprint.

The exit appears and you rush past with a foolishly wide grin as you peer up at him panting and sweat-ridden, “Done!” Your heart slams against your ribcage, legs burning and lungs on fire.

With a roll of his eyes, he picks up a green-rimmed tea cup and your eyes widen as he hovers it over you and a few drops fall on you causing you to shriek. A familiar tingling sensation appears and in the blink of an eye you find yourself back to normal size. Kai snarks, “A growing potion brings things back to regular size. Sorry, I suppose you are a bit soaked. Not many have made it past, so huh, good job.”

You grumble and he muses suddenly cupping your jaw to face him, “Though the sight of you soaked isn’t too bad either.” Glaring, you mutter, “I won. Next game.”

Kai grins, “Eager are we? You truly are different from the other guests. It really does make me want to just keep you all to myself, I bet we’d have so, so, so much fun together!” He pushes you to sit down with an excited flurry and Kai smiles at you, “Let’s talk.” You deadpan. “No, I mean, that’s the game, precious. Come on keep that pretty head of yours up to speed!”

You scoff at his remark and he grins sitting down opposite you, “What is the colour of the wind?” Your brows furrow. The fuck? He snickers at the bamboozlement on your visage.

“Give me an answer that satisfies my two questions and we’ll progress to the next game!” Kai chuckles loudly before he groans, exasperatedly, placing a dramatic hand on his forehead, “Give me a boring one and I’ll just consider that you lose.”

“That isn’t fair! You just won’t let me win!” You grit your teeth, this game wasn’t objective at all! You could be however creative you wanted and he could deny you all he wanted! This sly bastard!

“My Grove, my rules, precious, now stop pouting and start thinking!” He giggles. He really was determined to get you to stay; you gaze into his eyes, a spark of hesitance. Ah, ha! He didn’t like the fact you traversed the maze. That you won. That you had the possibility to escape. You’d sown the seed of doubt in his mind.

The gate. You just needed the key to the gate. If you could just find it. “Tick-tock!” You snap, “You didn’t mention a time limit?” Kai smiles mischievously, “Did I not? Whoops, well there is now, I’m sorry precious.” You glower at him, “Secondly, there is no time here!” He pouts, “Don’t ruin the experience, precious, here I’ll count then. Twenty, nineteen..”

You release a frustrated groan. The key. Fuck! You needed to keep him occupied. An answer he likes, something nonsensical, not logical perhaps?

“Uh…” you pick your brains. “Ten, nine..” he grins. You splutter, “The c-colour of the wind..” you eye the fluffy marshmallows on one cupcake, “is a thousand fluffy marshmallows and- and, forgotten rain..bows?” You finish unsurely.

Kai registers your answers before cackling maniacally, “Oh my goodness!” He shakes your tied hands over-excited, “Wonderful, wonderful!” His eyes meet yours with a twisted pleasure, “You are perfect to play with. Perfect. You just get me!” Remaining silent, you give him a glare making him laugh once more.

He leans forward gripping your wrists more tightly, “Mm, I did adore that nonsensical answer but you already won once right, so? Mm, no. You could have been even more nonsensical.” You snarl, “You-! This is unfair, completely unfair! How can I win then?”

He shrugs, his fingers reaching up to nonchalantly fiddle with his shirt collar, “Not my problem precious. Why would I help you leave?” You sneer, “I think you’re just afraid that I’ll escape.”

Kai painfully tugs at your bindings with a manic gaze and tilt of his head as he grits out, “One loss is already too many in my head. I don’t like, don’t like it at all. Also, I’d prefer to not let my pretty little guest win her prize of freedom. So, suck it up, precious and do what so say, when I say it, or I’ll just make you play for eternity.”

Kai’s fingers move up to fiddle unbothered with his necklace, the tiny key swiveling between his fingertips with ease. Wait. Your heart drops to your stomach as realisation fills your senses. The key! The only key here you’d seen was that key around his neck. Or were you just thinking a little too outside the box? Maybe you didn’t have to go through all this horseplay, no, you could just take a shortcut!

Gears in your mind grind and rattle. He did not underestimate you, that much was clear. He had changed his games up so much so that there was no way to win! You had to grab that key, and make a run for it! Huh…but the key was tiny. How could it fit in that gate’s keyhole?

“Hello?” Kai’s voice and sudden hand on your jaw breaks you out of your trance, “I’m waiting, don’t tell me I’ve melted that pretty head of yours into mush already?” You scoff shaking his hand off, “No. Hit me with the next question.” You just had to keep him occupied as you think of a way to get that key.

Kai grins widely, “Hmm…If a teapot…could sing, let’s say, opera. What genre would it perform?” As if to mock your predicament, he grabs the teapot and tilts it into his cup pouring more tea. What the type of question was that?

You snap, “You’re insane.” He giggles frantically sipping his tea, “Why thank you. Everyone always calls the Hatter insane, but sorely underestimate my abilities!” You seethe at his irritatingly charming smile.

“Just- Just give me more than twenty seconds this time, please,” you plead, feigning desperation. He tilts his head and coos, “Aw, that’s cute, I like the tone you get when you plead, fine, I shall allow it.” You have to refrain from sneering - he only allowed it because he was going to reject whatever nonsensical answer you came up with!

Your gaze flickers over the assortment of items on the table, lingering on the sharp knife beside the cake. The very cake that sedated you. Shit, you couldn’t even get him to eat it, he wasn’t stupid. Your eyes settle on the green-rimmed teacup, the growing elixir. Your eyes widen, the key- you could grow it back to original size (well, if your hypothesis was correct!)

It made the most sense, what place was more safe to keep the key than next to his own neck, shrunken down inconspicuously? You smile extra wide and he raises a brow, “What’s gotten you so happy, precious?”

“I’ve found an answer that I think you’ll like a lot,” you stand up. A sly smirk lines his lips, “Oh really? I have terribly high expectations, you know. Do enlighten me then.”

You brush past him with a calm gaze as you walk towards the teacup with the elixir. “The genre it would perform would be teatime tragedy.” Kai’s smile falters and he grimaces in disgust, “That’s your answer? How boring.”

You shrug, “Really?” Despite your bound wrists, you hook your finger into the handle of the teacup and raise it precariously. “It’s about the dramatic tales of an evening tea party that goes terribly,” you throw the teacup at him and his eyes widen as the liquid splashes across his face and torso. You finish, “Wrong.” With a bright hum, you gleam, “Like that.” Kai’s eyes snap to meet yours infuriated, “H-How dare you, such insolence! At my tea party? I’m the host!” You snap, “And I’m the guest!”

“Following my rules,” he argues flagrantly, “I did. I answered your question,” you grit out. He snarls displeased by your sudden defiance and your eyes sparkle as you see the key on his neck grow slowly. You had to make sure he didn’t notice!

With a rough tug, his fingers wrap around your neck and your lips part in surprise, hands against his chest. “Don’t test my patience precious, no matter how much you play, I won’t ever, ever let you win. Got that? Get that drilled into your lovely little skull.”

Your gaze meets his, breaths tumbling out. His body heat seeps through your clothes. His face was even prettier this close. His sharp nose, infuriated eyes, high cheekbones, a man sculpted by the gods themselves. Too bad he was a maniac, you’d have fawned over him in the real world. You see his eyes flicker to your lips back to your gaze, “There’s just something about you. I don’t like. At the same time, I don’t hate.”

So close. The key was so close. You almost flinch when his other hand moves a stray strand of your hair out of your face and delicately cups your cheek, “Such a pretty face, pretty eyes, cute nose,” his thumb tugs down at your lower lip making your breath hitch. Kai takes notice, smirking, “Such irresistible lips, that spew such irritable nonsense.”

“And you don’t?” You counter back breathless. Kai chuckles, “I do, but it’s better when you do it.” You lean closer, “Really? Do I win then? Could you just let me have this second win?” You plead. Kai clicks his tongue with a condescending grin, “Mm, you know I can’t do that, even when you beg so pretty, precious.”

Well, who needed his permission anyway? With a sudden jump, your hands clamp over the key and with a rough tug, you run past him. He screeches in agony, the friction of the necklace against his skin and the sound of it snapping from the sheer force of you pulling it off his neck. You peer down, the key was indeed large enough!

“You-!” The March Hare snarls enraged as he sees the key. He lets out a deranged laugh, “You clever, clever, little thing! So you figured it out all this time huh? You never planned to indulge me at all!” He lunged forward with an arm outstretched. You shriek, kicking one of the chairs in his direction to hold him back a little longer. You could NOT afford to drop this key!

Bolting towards the gate, you pant madly, you could do it! You were so close, so close- your fumble with the key inserting into the keyhole trembling. Quick, quick, quick!

“You misbehaving brat, after all that hospitality-“ you scream as you feel his hand on your shoulder and you twist yourself around head butting him in the face making him groan. Blood drips to the ground from his nose, sliding down his lips and chin as he coughs.

Tremoring, you twist the key, it doesn’t open, “Fuck!” You scream. You twist it the other way and you hear a rusty click followed by a groan as the worn gate slowly swings open. As you go to sprint, Kai’s hand grips the back of your shirt with frightening strength. Fear envelopes your gaze, adrenaline pulsates through you.

So you do the one thing that comes to mind, with your leg, you kick the gate backwards to a close and a painful string of curses leaves his lips as the heavy gate slams onto his arm with a sickening crunch, releasing you. Kai bellows in agony, falling to his knees; the surge of pain bearing too much for him, perhaps even a fracture of his arm.

He sneers, panting like a rabid dog, “That cursed little-“ Kai’s lips form an eerily wide grin as he yells out, “It’s a death s-sentence for you now precious! Oh I hope the Hatter treats you even better than I did!” A deranged laugh leaves his body as he clutches his arm, throwing his head back as tears run down his face.

Indeed the March Hare would spiral further into the abyss of insanity and isolation once more it would seem.

If only your hands weren’t tied together, it would have made this entire thing easier. You sprint, your calves searing and beginning to seize up, fuck, you couldn’t afford to look back. What if he was still chasing you? You shudder, powering through. You needed to find a way to cut this ribbon off, it was beginning to hurt your skin!

After what seemed like forever, you finally slow down into a jog and then finally a walk. Your limbs tremble from exhaustion. The foliage around you seems to morph and you begin seeing various trinkets scattered around the blue and purple plants. Where was this absurd place? Surely you couldn’t have ran into the Hatter already?

Walking cautiously, you peer around. All of a sudden a raspy voice startles you and you spin around trying to locate it, “Well, well, what’s this? A new guest? It’s been so long, dear.” It chuckles, “Up here.”

You tilt your head up and your eyes narrow as you finally see a large bluish-purple caterpillar lounging in the trees, with a lazy smile and hookah in one hand. It was incredibly camouflaged - holy shit!

“What’s with the bound wrists? Asking for a death sentence? If the Hatter finds you like this, he’ll have a real jolly time with you.” You feel nauseous at the thought and you awkwardly ask, “Ah, you wouldn’t mind untying me, cutting this off would you?” It heartily laughs, taking another breath from its hookah.

“I don’t know, why should I?” It muses, its many arms moving. You sigh exhausted, “Please, please don’t make my life anymore difficult than it is. You know what, never mind, I’ll find a sharp rock or branch or something.”

Before you walk off, it scuttles down making you grimace and reaches around in the messy foliage bringing out a small blade, with a swift slice, the ribbon comes undone and your hands are free to move. Eyes wide, you thank him, “Why? You just said-“

“I know, I know, yes, yes,” it rolls its eyes and you cough as it blows the purple fumes into your face. “I can’t help but feel pitiful for the poor souls that end up here. Far too much effort really, to survive here,” It groans, stretching. You inquire, “Well, uh thanks anyway. You…wouldn’t happen to know an exit by any chance?”

The plump caterpillar snickers, “An exit? In Wonderland? Oh dear, that’s not easy to find.” You deadpan, “So you know where it is, and the fact it does exist.” It muses grinning, “Well observed dear. Indeed, it’s in Cheshire’s Forest. On the outskirts, though, only one person’s made it that far.”

You frown, “One person?” It nods, “The others well, let’s just say Cheshire doesn’t make it easy. He knows everything about Wonderland. But no one knows anything about him.” You shiver. What an enigmatic figure…

“Though, you could say he’s the sanest of the lunatic bunch here. Oddly. After all, in a land where madness reigns, only the sane can ordain,” it utters and you blink. You think your brain has quite literally fried beyond comprehension.

“Uh, well anyway, thanks I guess. I’ll be going,” you mutter. You’d probably rest somewhere first, then try to head to the forest. The caterpillar hums quizzically regarding your retreating figure, “Follow the path where the shadows dance, and you’ll find the Mad Hatter’s chance.”

You scoff with a smirk - yeah well, you’d avoid it then. No way.

Too bad you didn’t catch the rest of the line, oh well, the caterpillar didn’t really care enough to stop you. You’d die of insanity by the Hatter’s hand or Cheshire - it didn’t matter.

“Avoid the path with all your might, and you’ll find yourself with quite the fright,” it muses, completing the line, “Oh dear, well they made it this far, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

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